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thebonerpit · 3 years

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cheerleader [FIC]

cheerleader

Rom Howney, 3896 words, [E], read on Ao3 here

A very seasonally appropriate fic in which Robert throws a Halloween party. Tom hates Halloween but decides to wear a costume he's wanted to try for years.

“I just don’t understand it.”

Tom frowns as he stares at the racks upon racks of zombies, clowns, vampires, and sexy nurses in front of him.

“I mean, to be fair, you don’t understand much of anything, do you mate?”

“Fuck off,” Tom says, whacking Harrison on the arm. “But seriously! Why do Americans go so absolutely mental for this stupid holiday?”

“Again, having trouble with the fact that you, an actor, who plays dress-up FOR A LIVING, doesn’t understand this. It’s not like this is any weirder than a fancy dress party. Plus, you get candy!”

Ok, he does have a point there.

Tom lets out a deep sigh. He wouldn’t even be bothering with all this if it weren’t for Robert. An invitation appeared in his inbox last week for a Halloween party, and when you’re invited to a Halloween party at Robert Downey Jr.’s house, you don’t turn it down. Even if Halloween is incredibly stupid. He shuffles along through the rows of costumes, rolling his eyes at werewolf masks and inflatable dinosaurs.

“This is ridiculous,” he mutters. Harrison groans, his hands already full of the various parts of a Mad Hatter costume.

“Just pick something, who cares?!”

“There’s too many options!”

“Ok, look. Halloween is the chance to dress any way you want to and have no one judge you for it. Just think about that. What have you always wanted to be?”

Tom immediately knows what the answer is, but instead of replying he just huffs and turns down another aisle that’s covered in fairy wings and glitter. He can’t possibly do it. Especially not for this party. For Robert’s party. It would be… inappropriate. He rounds the corner again and is faced with a shockingly huge assortment of superhero costumes. A foam version of Thor’s hammer sits on the shelf to his right, and he smirks as he picks it up and gives it a good twirl.

“In your face, Hemsworth,” he mutters quietly.

There’s a whole row of different Spider-Man costumes which makes him smile, especially when he sees a flimsy synthetic fabric version of the Iron Spider suit. And right next to that – a placement that thrills him even more than the suit alone - are the Iron Man costumes. Plastic faceplates, arc reactor gloves with LED lights, fabric onesies with fake, puffy muscles sewn in… it’s all there. Tom runs a finger along the edge of the faceplate before snatching his hand away like he’s been burned.

It’s all he can think about, even as they leave the store after Harrison buys his costume and Tom walks out empty-handed. He thinks about it on the ride home and through dinner until he finally makes excuses and runs off to hide in his room, laptop in hand, and puts on Iron Man 2. It doesn’t take long to get to the scene he wants. Tony Stark, diving through fireworks, landing on a flashy stage, surrounded by his Ironettes. Tom bites his lip as he stares intently at the bright red booty shorts, the long gloves, the crop tops… maybe, if he altered it just a bit, if he wore the mask… He can already feel his face heating up at the prospect of walking into Robert’s house dressed like that. Would he laugh? Would he be weirded out? Or… would he like it? Tom pushes the laptop off to the side and lets the movie play as he touches himself, coming to the sound of Robert’s voice in his headphones.

* * * * *

Tom is going to throw up. It’s inevitable, at this point. He’s in the back of a car squished between Harry and Harrison and he’s going to throw up. His stomach is in knots and he can’t remember ever being this nervous in his life. He’s used to the fluttering before a big stage performance or audition, but those nerves are more like excitement. This is sheer terror and he is going to THROW UP.

“Can you calm down? Jesus, you’re going to ruin my costume if you don’t stop squirming!” Harrison jabs a sharp elbow into his side and Tom jerks away into Harry who pushes him back.

“I just… I need some air.”

“The windows are all open! Take the mask off!”

That is the absolute last thing he wants to do. He was only able to leave the house in this costume with the mask securely over his face and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be able to take it off. He must be red as a tomato.

“Look, we’re here!” Harry crows. The car finally comes to a stop and they all pile out. Tom wants to collapse on the soft grass but he’s pulled along by four strong hands.

“Maybe I should… Look, I’ll just wait out here for a bit, ok? I just need—”

“Nope, absolutely not. Look mate, we already told you, he’s going to love it. Maybe not in the way you want him to-“ Tom punches Harry in the arm for that “-BUT, regardless, he’ll love it. You look great. And this is coming from someone who never turns down an opportunity to tell you you’re an ugly twat.”

“That was… almost sweet,” Tom says, and then yelps as they both drag him inside.

The party is in full swing and is absolutely packed with people. Small groups are standing around chatting, all in costume, and a live band is playing in the huge backyard to a crowded dancefloor. Tom recognizes only a few people – it’s hard to miss Scarlett even when she’s dressed like Morticia Addams – but that doesn’t bother him. Normally he loves mingling and meeting new people, and even dressed as he is it’s still exciting. It’s even easier after he quickly downs a few strong drinks, careful to only pull up the mask as far as it needs to go. The urge to vomit has pretty much dissipated and he’s actually beginning to enjoy himself, twirling around the dancefloor like a maniac until he’s slightly sweaty and out of breath.

“Water break!” he yells to Harry and squeezes through the crowd of people to get some air and hydrate. He finds a relatively quiet corner where he can chug half a water bottle in peace and is enjoying the cool air on his skin when someone taps him on the shoulder. He startles and nearly drops the bottle but manages to save it before turning around.

“Nice catch.”

Oh fuck. It’s him. It’s Robert. He hasn’t seen him the whole evening and assumed he was off being a good host so the whole thing almost slipped his mind, but now it’s all rushing back and he has to grip on to the fence post beside him to steady himself.

“Love the costume. Not exactly how I remember the Ironettes looking but I gotta say, this might be an improvement.”

Tom nearly chokes. He decided he couldn’t pull off the real Ironette costume as the distinct lack of breasts made it look a little awkward. So, he improvised. The shiny red and gold booty shorts stayed, of course. They made his ass look incredible. He bought the long red and gold arc reactor gloves and the plastic faceplate from the Halloween store, and instead of heeled boots he found a pair of gold high-tops and knee-high red socks. The shirt was the most difficult part, though. He went through a few variations before settling on something cute and comfortable: a red, cropped tank top. It was a bit loose and thin, so it flowed around his chest nicely and was short enough to show off his abs and his tiny waist. He also managed to find an LED necklace to serve as his arc reactor. It glowed a soft blue through the thin fabric of the shirt. Overall, he’s incredibly proud of what he came up with. Especially for someone who hates Halloween.

And now, with the way Robert is staring at him, he’s VERY happy he was brave enough to wear it.

“Is there someone under that gorgeous mask? Or are you too shy to say hello?”

Tom steels himself, takes a deep breath, and pulls the mask off.

Robert’s face goes through a myriad of emotions almost all at once. Shock, delight, amusement, and what is unmistakably arousal.

“Well. Tom Holland. As I live and breathe.” His voice is lower than before, more intimate, and when he takes a step forward Tom swears he feels the temperature go up by at least two degrees. He also notices that Robert is wearing eyeliner. The black kohl makes his eyes look even more gorgeous, and then there’s the red glitter dusted across his cheeks and around his hairline that is giving him an almost eerie glow.

“What are you supposed to be, then?” Tom asks. Robert smirks and points to the two small horns sticking out from his hair.

“The Devil, of course.”

“Of course,” Tom repeats weakly. It was barely a costume, the deep maroon suit looking more like red carpet attire than anything else, but fuck it looked incredible on him.

“I am the purveyor of sin on this fine evening,” he says, gesturing to the party, “so I thought I’d play the part. But you… you look far more sinful than me.”

Tom squeaks as Robert steps even closer and taps at the arc reactor on his chest.

“Cute,” he murmurs.

“Just… just wanted to show you how much of a fan I am… Mr. Stark.”

Robert’s eyes snap up to Tom’s and he doesn’t think he’s ever been looked at so intensely in his entire life.

“Is that so… Mr. Parker?”

Tom whines, loud enough for Robert to hear it. His hand travels down Tom’s body to squeeze at the bare skin of his waist.

“I think—”

“Robert!!”

They both jerk back as if they’re waking up from a trance. Someone is yelling for Robert and waving him inside, and he acknowledges them with a quick gesture. Turning back to Tom, he licks his lips and leans in to whisper in his ear.

“I think we’ll have to continue this later. Don’t leave without saying goodnight. Alright?”

“Yeah. Yes. O-ok. See you later,” Tom stutters, and when Robert disappears inside he chugs the rest of the water bottle and collapses back against the fence to catch his breath.

* * * * *

All the telltale signs of a party winding down are there. Most people have left, the band has stopped playing leaving only some low background music emanating from the speakers around the house, and the guests that remain are splayed out on various couches and chairs, half their costumes missing and happily drunk. The kitchen is a disaster and Tom feels bad adding more bottles to the mess, but he’s on a mission and can’t stop to tidy. After his run-in with Robert he only saw him briefly a few more times, mostly through a massive crowd, but he didn’t forget his words from earlier.

Don’t leave without saying goodnight.

Harrison and Harry have already gone home. They tried to get him to come with but Tom pretended to be enthralled in a conversation and told them he’d catch up in a bit. Now he’s wandering the massive house, peeking into various rooms as he looks for Robert. He gave up on wearing the mask after they met in the yard so it’s pushed up on his head like some sort of strange visor, his curls a sweaty mess beneath it. The second floor is quiet and empty; no one really came up here during the party anyway so it’s also much cleaner. A set of closed double doors is in front of him, and it’s the only place he hasn’t looked, so…

Tom slowly opens one door and pokes his head inside. Robert is lounging on a massive bed, scrolling on an iPad, glasses perched on his nose. He’s still got the horns on his head, and when he glances up over the rim of his glasses to smirk at Tom, he really does look positively devilish.

“Found you,” Tom says, trying to appear completely casual when his heart feels like it’s about to explode from under his ribcage.

“So you did. Come in. Close the door.”

Robert makes no effort to move so Tom slowly walks over to the bed, suddenly very conscious of how tight his shorts are as Robert unabashedly roams over his body with hungry eyes. He stops at the edge and toes at the plush carpet with one foot.

“Have you been drinking?”

Tom nods.

“How much?”

“Not that much,” Tom replies, understanding what Robert is trying to ask. “But maybe just enough to give me some liquid courage.”

Robert raises an eyebrow but waits patiently for Tom to make the first move, only shifting slightly to drop the iPad and his glasses on the nightstand. Guess it’s now or never.

He kneels on the edge of the bed with one leg first, testing the waters. Robert stays perfectly still. A deep inhale to steady himself and then Tom goes for it, pushing up on the bed and straddling Robert’s lap. He hesitates for only a moment before settling right on the seam of those expensive maroon trousers.

A pleased hum rumbles out of Robert’s chest as he runs two smooth, warm hands up Tom’s spread thighs to his waist.

“My own personal cheerleader, hm? I always knew you looked up to me but I never expected this… Pete.”

He catches Tom’s eye and gives him a brief wink. Tom’s heart speeds up even more as excitement bubbles in his stomach. Playing. Robert is playing with him. He was desperately hoping he wouldn’t drop this, leave it as the brief tease it was back in the yard. Acting with Robert is one of his favourite things in the entire world, and being able to do it like this? God, for the first time he’s actually happy that Tony Stark is dead because he’s never going to be able to act across from him again without thinking of this moment.

Robert nuzzles into his neck and starts leaving wet, sucking kisses all along the line of his throat. Tom shivers at the sensation and then starts to giggle when the tickle of Robert’s beard is too much against his sensitive skin. Robert laughs into his neck and nips playfully.

“You’re so darn cute,” he whispers. Robert has always been free with his compliments, telling Tom he’s handsome or pretty or talented, but somehow it just hits different when his hands are also squeezing Tom’s ass.

“Want to touch you, Mr. Stark,” Tom murmurs into his ear, easily switching his accent to sound even more like Peter. He feels Robert shudder underneath him and can’t help the pleased smirk that crosses his face.

“Yeah?” Robert says, grasping his chin gently so he can look into his eyes. “Do you even know what you’re doing, sweetheart?”

Tom absolutely knows what he’s doing, but Peter…

“I… uh… I was hoping you could teach me. I’m a really quick learner, sir,” he says softly.

“Jesus fucking christ,” Robert mutters, breaking character for a moment. He collects himself quickly though, shifting Tom in his lap just enough so he can undo his trousers and pull himself out. Tom’s mouth literally waters at the sight of Robert’s dick and he uses every ounce of willpower not to just pounce on him immediately.

“Want to feel your mouth, Pete,” Robert says, rubbing a thumb along Tom’s lower lip. “You can go slow. Use your tongue.”

“Yes, Mr. Stark,” Tom replies, trying not to sound too eager. He shuffles down a little and purposely sticks his ass up in the air. The red and gold shimmer on the shorts catches the dim light and he gives his hips a quick wiggle when he sees Robert staring.

“Maybe I should’ve reworked the design on your suit, hm? You like wearing little shorts like this?”

Tom nods and presses his face into the curls at the base of Robert’s dick, inhaling the scent of him. He feels the thick cock jerk against his cheek and angles his head to lick up the whole length of it, swirling his tongue at the tip. The bitter taste of precome blooms in his mouth and he moans, forgetting himself for a moment as he starts to give a much more experienced blowjob than what Peter would be capable of. Robert knocks the mask off Tom’s head so he can tighten his hand in his messy curls.

“Jesus,” Robert groans, “you’re good at this, kid.”

“Mmm, just want to make you feel good, sir,” Tom hums. He manages to remove one of the arc reactor gloves so he can grip Robert’s cock while he uses his mouth everywhere he can reach.

“Well, you’re doing a—fuck, god—a damn fine job.”

Tom thinks he could stay here forever, on his knees, mouth stretched almost painfully around Robert’s cock. He explores up his chest with his other hand, rubbing at one nipple with his thumb which makes Robert jerk underneath him.

“Keep doing that,” Robert spits out as he pushes Tom’s head down even further. He gags a bit but the incredible sensation of being stuffed and used overrides everything else and he takes every inch Robert gives him while tugging and pinching at his apparently very sensitive nipples. He drifts for a bit, so content and fuzzy, and only comes back when Robert pulls him off and throws him down on the bed.

“Pull up that shirt for me, sweetheart. Gonna paint your pretty chest with my come.”

“Oh my god, fuck, yes, please, please, want it,” Tom moans, shoving the fabric out of the way as Robert jerks himself off quickly above him. He can’t decide whether to watch his dick or his face when he finally comes, thick and white all over his chest and the arc reactor necklace. Robert’s slightly red in the face and gasping for breath as he steadies himself with a hand beside Tom’s head. Tom leans to the side to kiss at his knuckles and then dares to run his fingers through the come on the necklace and bring it to his mouth to taste.

“You’re going to give an old man a heart attack,” Robert says. His pupils are all blown out as he watches Tom hollow his cheeks as he sucks. Tom understands the feeling. He’s so hard in his shorts that it’s painful.

“Please,” he whispers, biting his lip, “will you touch me, Mr. Stark?”

“It would be a pleasure, Mr. Parker,” he replies. He palms him over the shorts which makes Tom buck into his hand. “As much as I love these… they have to go.”

The shorts are so tight that they both struggle to pull them down but finally they’re tossed off to a distant corner of the bedroom and Tom hisses as Robert immediately get his mouth on his cock. It feels absolutely heavenly, especially after being trapped in the confines of that uncomfortable fabric for so long. Robert takes his time, licks and sucks everywhere he can, all the way down to that sensitive spot right behind his balls. Tom whimpers as his tongue gets so fucking close to his hole but then pulls away.

“Want to use my fingers… s’that ok?”

“Y-yeah, please, yes!”

Robert grabs some lube from the nightstand and even warms it first before sliding one thick finger over Tom’s hole, pressing just the tip inside. Aside from the thrill of having Robert’s finger inside of him, the most incredible part is that he doesn’t stop sucking him off. The level of coordination is astounding and Tom would have complimented him on it if he was able to speak beyond moans and pleas for more. A second finger quickly joins the first and Tom’s body accepts it without hesitation.

“Good boy,” Robert murmurs in between gentle licks, “look at you, hm? So pretty and pink.”

Robert shifts him down a bit more which makes his legs fall open even wider. He feels so exposed and whines a little, trying to draw his knees close without squeezing Robert too much.

“Aw, don’t be shy sweetheart, you’re gorgeous,” Robert says. “You can put your legs up on me if that helps, ok?”

He hears the rubber of his high-tops squeak against Robert’s skin and somehow the sound is more obscene than anything else. He tries not to thump his heels too hard but fuck, Robert is doing something with his tongue that should be illegal and Tom can’t stop squirming. A low chuckle reverberates against his stomach as Robert pulls off briefly, his fingers still working in slow, gentle pushes.

“Aren’t you sensitive, hm?”

“P-please, Ro—Mr. Stark, please, need to come,” Tom begs, accent slipping slightly as he tries to shove himself down even deeper on Robert’s thick fingers. He’s held in place by the firm grip of Robert’s other hand on his waist and he whines petulantly.

“Anything for my favourite little spider,” Robert coos. He crooks his fingers and Tom arches up off the bed like he’s been shocked. He feels like he’s been on the edge since they first met in the yard and now Robert’s fingers are pressing right on his prostate and his hot mouth is back on his dick and he doesn’t think he could possibly hold off any longer if he tried.

“Gonna… gonna…” Tom’s whole body is taut, like a wire ready to snap, and when Robert takes him all the way down his throat he comes with a ragged gasp. Distantly he thinks he should be considerate and pull out but it’s like his body isn’t under his control anymore, and even though he hears wet choking noises it seems like Robert is just fine with him coming in his mouth. His fingers have stopped moving and he lets Tom clench around them for a few moments before gently sliding them out. Tom whines at the loss even though he’s so oversensitive right now he couldn’t possibly take anymore.

After taking a minute to catch his breath and regain any semblance of normal brain function, he finally looks down. Robert’s eyeliner is smudged and Tom feels a bizarre sense of pride about it. He can’t stop running his fingers through his salt and pepper hair which is also a complete mess.

“Just FYI,” Robert finally says, his voice a little raspy, “you’re going to be finding red glitter in every nook and cranny for about three years after this.” He punctuates that sentence by rubbing his cheek against Tom’s thigh, grinning as he does it.

“You’re a dick,” Tom says fondly, giggling even more as Robert continues to just rub his face all over his body. “But can’t say I’m gonna care that much if I’m being reminded about this.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well,” Robert says, that absolutely devilish grin returning, “I can give you more than just glitter for that.” Tom squeals as he starts sucking a deep bruise into the inside of one thigh, teeth marks and all, that Tom presses on every time he sees it for the next week.

#tbpwrites #rom howney #marvel rpf #nff #please do not expect this kind of consistency from me normally lol #usually it takes months in between fics!#but the fandom has been so lovely and active lately that it's inspired me #maybe i'll write some actual starker at some point and not just rpf

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kkusuka · 3 years

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Introductions <3

i literally could not shake this from my mind, and i got ever so slighly carried away.

Fem. reader <3

Relationship: Rumi Usagiyama (Miruko), Keigo Takami (hawks) Kai Chisaki (Overhaul) Tomura Shigaraki, Touya Todoroki (Dabi), Kurono Hari x Reader

word count: 4.6k

CW: You and Rumi are dating, mommy kink, slight druging, shiggy calles you pet, breeding, double penn. squirting, FxF, soft miruko, too many creampies, Photography, cum eating, I think that’s it??

let me know what you want to see next <33

It was official, you and Rumi had been dating for a whole nine months! It was so amazing, Rumi seemed to really like you, something you had absolutely not expected when you confessed to her.

You had known that she had some questionable friends but Rumi never kept you around them for too long, just some spared glances and tight smiles. But that brought you to now, where you were currently making sure everything was perfect to finally officially meet her friends!

You had baked brownies and checked your hair in the mirror at least 100 times, you were just so nervous, you knew first impressions were everything. You tried to cover all of the marks, you practiced your smile in the mirror, you made it as friendly as possible. You wore Rumi’s favorite skirt, it was baby pink and “totally adorable” according to your girlfriend, and a light pink cardigan with a white t-shirt underneath. But what you think made the outfit was the white thigh-highs that adorned your legs, and the little bows on the front.

Everything was perfect, you were ready!

ఌ

“If any of you hurt her, I’ll kill you” Right now Rumi regretted ever being friends with these people. Well, she mostly regretted that they got her revved up enough to make that stupid bet with Keigo. She would have gladly just introduced them to you but this whole “initiation” bullshit was taking it too far.

“I'm hurt you would even think I’d do anything to your precious Bunny!” Keigo mocked, he knew what he was doing, they all did. You had every single one of them wrapped around your finger and you didn't even know it.

“Let’s just hurry up, don’t wanna leave lover girl waiting.” Dabi. “Jeez Tou, I didn't think you would be so excited to see ‘er”

In character, Touya rolled his eyes and looked away, he wouldn't admit he had been wanting to “meet” for a while now. If the sock under his bed had anything to say about it. The rest of the walk to your house was filled with scattered comments about scenery, Shigaraki’s constant complaints and, Kai and Kurono’s mindless chatter.

Entering a fairly nice neighborhood about 15 minutes from the school, Rumi declared they had arrived in front of a nice-looking traditional house. “I am going to say this one more time. You will not hurt her, do not say anything weird, and what’s about to happen will never happen again”

“Yeah whatever, just knock on the door” rolling her eyes Rumi did just that. And within the second the door swung open and a puff of light pink jumped out at their friend. “Umi, you're here!” you were smiling like the sun at your girlfriend.

“Yeah Bunny we’re here and don’t you look all dolled up” Gross, the two of you looked like you were about to eat each other's faces.

“Oh! Yes! Um- Come in, we can go, um, to the family room and watch movies! O-only if you want to though, w-we can do other things too, i-if you want” you had managed to stutter out before Rumi guided you into the house before you could say anything more embarrassing, “that sounds great Baby, let's go” shooting the boys a pointed look, a warning, they followed the two of you through the house.

You were practically shaking and you didn't know if it was from excitement or nerves, but whatever it was, you would have to get over it somehow. Just like you expected, they were scary. Each of them practically towers over you, and even if they didn't, they all had the most intimidating aura you’ve ever felt.

After getting settled, and answering Kai’s questions about cleanliness, you made the best attempt at an introduction you could; “Um, hello I’m (f/n) (l/n). It’s really really nice to meet you guys!” really really? Great now you sound like an idiot. And they probably think the chuckles around the room said anything.

You were broken out of your hand by a hand grabbing yours, and a voice speaking up awfully close to your ear, “Aw baby bird you are just too cute! Keigo Takami at your service now and always” the voice purred, he was, so close. You could smell his cologne like it was straight from the bottle. To say that you were beet red was a true understatement. When you were about to try and stutter something out, two hands grabbed your waist and pulled you into another hard chest.

And before you knew it a head was in the crook of your neck, “Stop it bird brain you're probably scaring the poor little girl. No worries Little mouse, Touya’s got you now” with this new angle you could see Keigo better, and blonde hair and was he wearing eyeliner? But mostly, he was looking at you like you were the only thing in the world. Which in turn made you even redder. But your staring contest with the man was cut short when you were pushed into someone's lap.

“Tomura Shigaraki” was quickly muttered, “Shigaraki” not even looking at you before placing you next to him on the couch. You took the opportunity to look at Touya, dark spiked hair and piercing blue eyes, if he didn't have the scars you would have believed he walked straight out of a magazine. Tomura, still not looking at you, had curled into himself, immediately making you feel bad, for what? You had no clue. So, you placed a hand on his shoulder and spoke whatever came to mind, “Are you ok? I didn’t hurt you right?”

This seemed to have the opposite effect on the teenage boy because he had curled further into himself but managed to stutter out a no. You were about to apologize, thinking you had injured the poor boy somehow when a gloved hand encased yours, lightly detaching it from the other boy. Following the gloved hand to an arm, with a rolled-up long-sleeve button-up shirt, to a neck with a tie neatly resting on his chest, to a masked face and golden eyes.

“You're really pretty.” Oh god. You-you said that out loud to his face. You had to apologize-” I mean, your lower lashes are perfect.” That is not what you meant to say, he was going to kill you, Rumi was going to kill you. Instead of wiping you from existence, like you knew he probably could, he just raised a brow whilst everyone else in the room busted into laughter.

“Thank you, Angel, But my name is Kai Chisaki.” He had a pretty voice too, god you needed to stop thinking like right now. And now a new round of laughter had begun, “I said that aloud didn’t I? God, I’m sorry, you probably rhino I’m weird, I’m really sorry” You were embarrassed if you could call it that, you were practically melting.

You were panicking, they don't like you anymore, they were laughing at you, you were putting Umi to shame, and now you're going to break up and- “Bunny. Bunny it’s ok, you are just being too cute right now. All I need to know is that you still think I’m the cutest” Rumi still liked you, and you must have missed the transition into her lap, where you were now located. “Of course you’re still the cutest Umi, am I still the cutest?”

“Always baby, now you’ve got one more person to meet, bee a good bunny for me now, ok?” Shifting you in her lap you faced the last of the group, a boy next to Chi (your new nickname for him). He was pretty too- you just didn't blurt it out this time, instead, you waved. He reacted with a light chuckle, it was pretty too, and telling you his name was Kurono Hari.

“Alright, now that that’s over with,” Touya reached in his bag and pulled out two bottles of vodka, “let's get this initiation started”

ఌ

The room was spinning. You could hear the boys and Rumi laughing but you were too buzzed to listen. More importantly, you felt hot, specifically down there. You had felt this before, you knew it. Oh! It was when you and Umi-Umi were alone in your bedroom! She made it go away then, that meant she could make it go away now!

You managed to get yourself up from whoever's lap you were sitting on, Tomura if you were to guess from the whine when you moved his arm. Standing up was a slight challenge, your legs shaking and you almost let out a moan. Placing down your cup on the coffee table that was covered in beer cans and plastic cups, you didn't even realize that everyone in the room had shifted their focus to you.

Stumbling over to your girlfriend you fell into her lap and nuzzled yourself into a straddle position so you were face to face. Within the second Rumi began to rub little circles into your hip, making you even hotter. “What’s the matter bunny? Is something wrong?” She was such a good girlfriend, always looking out for you, she would surely help you, you just knew it.

“Umi-Umi I feel hot. Like the time in my room? Do you remember that? When my parents weren’t home and you made the ache go away? Places, please do it again! I feel so so hot.” You began to ramble continuing until Tomura, said something that sounded funny to you (well everything sounded funny right now) “I told you it would work, you just had to give it some time”

What needed time to work? As quick as you could you look back to Rumi, she seemed to know exactly what you wanted to know, she shifted a bit under you and began, ‘Alright bunny listen to me, ok baby focus on me. God, you look so pretty, ok? Listen, they wanted to try something with you, you’ll like it I promise, Mommy will be with you all the way, but Mommy lost a bet to her stupid friends and she is very sorry, but they won’t do anything you don't like, Ok? Tell Mommy how you feel.” Lost a bet? What did they want? They seemed nice, it wouldn't be that bad, and you had to make Rumi proud, you were being so good and you had to keep that up!

“Yes”

“Yes what, Bunny.”

“Yes Mommy, I'll be oh so very good for everyone!” That made her happy! She was proud of you! But the two of you were snapped out of your little bubble when Keigo, you think it’s Keigo, began to chuckle, “Mommy, really?” Yes, that was Keigo.

“Shut it chicken wing or you won't get to go.” well Mi-Mi sure knew how to shut him up, and Touya who was laughing along with him shit up too, which made you giggle. By pattern, it made all their attention turn back to you.

“Well strip her now, we don't have the rest of eternity!” Tomura impatiently shouted out. Strip that seemed fun!

“Shut it crusty,” As soon as the bitter remark left her lips, Rumi turned to you, softening to ask if you needed her help to get out of your skirt. No! You would do it yourself like a big girl. Well, that was until you couldn't figure how to undo the buttons, yeah maybe you did need her help after all. And she knew that waving you over with her pointer finger, she giggled and pulled you into a spot where she could undo the button.

You did manage to take your blouse, white shirt, and bra off by yourself, instinctively turning to Rumi, and she looked so proud of you! That means you were being good! But when you turned back to the boys, they looked like they wanted to eat you, but it didn't scare you like you thought it would, in fact, it seemed to have the opposite effect, sending jolts of heat down to your core.

Next, you want to take off your thigh highs being almost immediately stopped by a voice “No little mouse, you're keeping those on.”

“Yes sir” whoa, (y/n) where did that come from, but it didn't matter because Touya seemed to like it, and that made you happy.

“Calm down, I’m still going first, you still have to wait your turn, Angel? Come here.” Kai’s beautiful voice called, shifting your attention to the other side of the room to the couch where he currently sat with Hair (he insisted you call him that, so you just began to call everyone by their first name). As much as you wanted to obey the command immediately, you had to ask Rumi for permission, as a good bunny does. But before you even opened your mouth, as she does, Umi read your mind. “Go bunny listen to him” and that you did.

While walking to him, Kai unhooked the mask that sat on his face, placed it to his side, and eyed you, it felt like he was burning holes through you. You stopped right before him and he motioned for you to kneel before him, like a real king! Cutting you from your thought was Kai’s smooth voice asking if you’ve ever taken a cock in your little hole before.

The answer was no. Rumi was your first girlfriend and well, she was a girl. As you let him know just that! He retired your statement with a small smirk and a hand on your cheek, which you leaned into. “Alright Angel, can you tell me how many fingers you've ever had in your little pussy? And call me Sir or Master, it's respectful” You were going to melt if he kept this up.

“O-only four, Sir'' you couldn't look away from him, or how perfect his eyebrow looked when he raised it in question. “Oh? And how many up your ass?” while asking his thumb had reached your lips pulling on the bottom one, “No-no fingers sir, b-but sometimes I put a “plug” thingy that looks like a bunny tail in for Rumi, and don’t tell her I told you but sometimes a take it and do it without her knowing, but you can’t tell her I said that.”

That seems to do the trick, before he spoke he reached down and grabbed you by the waist and lifted you onto his lap, then spoke “Your secret is safe with me angel, now can you do me a favor? I need you to unzip the zipper on my pants and pull my boxers down, ok?” You could do that, and so you did!

After pulling it down, you saw his...thing. It was standing tall, and the tip was oozing white liquid, were they all this big? “Is that going in me? I-i don't think it’ll fit.” that gained more than a few laughs, “Oh it’ll fit, Angel. Now-” he placed a gloved hand on your panties, and both the glove and your panties disappeared, but his glove returned a second later.

All of them were looking at your lower lips, you could feel it, someone (Tomura, you think) had even let out a moan, “Well angel, it looks like you're already wet enough, so we’ll get right to it. can you please take my cock and line it up with your hole?” He sounded so soft and gentle, you just couldn't ignore it, you didn't think you could speak, deciding to just nod instead. But Kai didn't seem to like that. “Answer me, Angel, can you?” placing five fingers on your hip, just as a reminder to do as he asks. “Yes Master, I can.” That made it all better, but he did move his other hand onto your other hip, caging you in.

Doing as he said you took his cock in your hand and tried to line up the tip with your hole as perfectly as you possibly could, following his next command seemed a bit more challenging, “I want you to sink all the way down ok? Your clit should touch my hip, Yes Angel?” After your respectful response, you tried to get it in, and it didn't work! No, no, no! You were doing so well and now this?

At this point you were on the verge of tears, it just won't go in. “Bunny dear, let Mommy help you out, Ok? You’re doing so well ok?” Umi! She grasped Kais cock and moved under you to get a better view of your pink lips. She spread them out and began to press you down onto him. Just like magic, she made Kai’s cock go in! She let go when the tip was fully embraced by your gummy walls. “You gotta do all the rest honey.” and just like that, she moved back to her chair.

Deciding you needed something to hold onto, you looked towards Hari, “Can I hold your hand please?” He just looked at you before offering his hand to you, you're sure you heard someone “awing” on the other side of the room but you were too focused on sinking down Kai’s dick.

When you finally had all of him nestled in your insides, just how he commanded, you looked your head back and let the loudest moan, probably ever, out. Kai didn’t even seem to notice, he was busy being entranced by the images of where the two of you were connected. You did however pick up on the conversation that was happening between the two boys on the other couch.

“Yo, Shig, you got that right, please tell me you have that”

“I got to agree with Birdbrain here, please tell me you're still recording”

“Jeez, yes yes, I got it I got it”

“Eye’s back on me Angel. I’m going to move now.” and doing that he did, lifting you all the way to his tip, he let you drop onto him, extracting a tight gasp from you. It. was. Bliss! Over and over again he bounced you on his cock, until you were bouncing on your own like a madwoman, gaining whistles and praises from the other men in the room.

“Say how good you feel Angel, tell me how much you like getting fucked so well in front of your Mommy and her friends like a street whore, tell your Master how good he’s making you feel, go on, say your a street whore beg to cum..” Kai all bit growled at you, you couldn't ignore the command if you tried. “S-so-so, good Master. I’m a good street whore, a-and I like being fucked, and I-i've been so good please let me cum-please, please” after that you began to blubber out whatever you possibly could. Plea’s for him to let you cum, begging for your Mommy to let you cum, and seconds later Kai gave you the go-ahead and you wasted no time, immediately seeing stars.

Coming down from your high, you realized two things. One; Kai was still hard, ready, and in you. Two; Hari was now behind you on the couch spreading your ass and rubbing small circles around your tightest hole. “W-wait, it won't go in!” Soft chuckles were the only response you got to the exclamation. Ever so slowly Hari thrusts a finger into your hole, then another, and began to scissor them in an attempt to stretch you a bit.

“Are you alright Angel? Be honest.” Kai commanded.

“It-it hurts a bit.”

“Ok, I’ll make you feel better.” With that he began rubbing small, calculated circles around your clit, which did ease the pain of Hari beginning to put his tip in. it took about two more minutes for you to be completely filled with both their cocks. You felt so amazingly stretched out, they filled you so well.

It became even more overwhelming when they began to time their thrusts. When Kai pushed in you Hari pulled out, making sure one cock was always hitting one of your sweet spots, and they did it well. And they clearly knew it from the way you would moan with every thrust.

“You sound so pretty Baby, do we really make you feel that good?” Hari cooed in your ear, reaching around to circle your nipples, when Kai added in a quick “You clench every time we got a sweet spot Angel, you're being so good for us.”

As their orgasms approached the thrusts got slightly erratic, and they lost their perfect timing, which made you fall over the edge, entering your second orgasm of the night.

As you spasmed on their cocks they began to fill you with spurts of white, filling you up with their cum.

Basking in your post-orgasmic glow, you didn't even realize you had been moved to where Tomura was sitting. He already had you on your back, legs spread, displaying both of your holes to him.

Not saying a word he took out his cock and slammed it into your used hole but because of your sensitivity, it had hurt just a bit. Making your discomfort known, you whined and tried to bend your legs away from his grasp. Pushing your legs back open he ignored Rumi's yelling about letting go because he was hurting you.

“If you can do it for those assholes, you can be a good breeding cow for me too, understand?” he didn't even wait for you to answer, he just began to pound into you like a mad man.

He was grunting and growling, pushing you into the mating press, only to stop and completely pull out, garnering a whine from you. He shut you up by pushing two fingers inside your weaving hole and scooping cum out and bringing them to your face.

“Open” he commanded, following the order he shoved his cum-covered fingers wiping them over your tongue, “keep your mouth open and don’t swallow. Be a good pet and let me breed you.”

You never thought Toumra would be so commanding during sex, but right now the only thing you could think of was his cock hitting your g-spot over and over bringing your orgasm rapidly closer.

“To-Tomura, please so so close, let me cum, need it so badly please” is what you wanted to say, but considering the mouthful of cum you had and the fact that you couldn't even think past his cock, all that came out were blabs of pleases and cries of pleasure.

He was close, you could feel it in his thrusts. Reacting to your desperate attempt begging to cum tomura laughed, “You can cum when I cum pet. Just a little longer and you’ll be filled again, just be patient.”

You were crying at that point, you were so so close, and then finally! You felt his specks of cum in your womb! Finally, you could cum, but there was something different about this one, it felt bigger. You didn't know what it meant until your world turned black.

Coming back everyone in the room was staring straight at you like you had grown a second head. You were confused until Touya yelled.

“Usagiyama! You didn’t tell us she could fucking squirt! And the shithead of all people made her do it!”

While he was speaking, he came over and grabbed you and impaled you on his aching cock. “You're gonna do that again, Ok? I don't care if I have to fuck you for hours.”

“No, Touya, you're going to be nice to her” Rumi growled back at the Black haired boy. Earning a glare from him in response.

At that point, you were too fucked out to do anything other than subconsciously bouncing on Touya’s cock earning a laugh from him. “Look! Look! She’s already bouncing and I haven't even done anything yet, damn Rumi you've been dating a cockwhore this entire time” the insult gave you the motivation you make this the best sex Touya will ever receive!

And you did, placing your hands on his shoulders you used them as leverage to bounce harder, at some point he had shoved his head into your breasts and began to shake his head in between them. Biting at some points to conceal his moans.

Reaching down to your clit, he whispered permission to cum, which you gladly accepted, and in the process, you managed to milk him dry after biting the pressure point where his shoulder met his neck.

As soon as Touya was done cumming, you were swooped up into soft feathers and were met with a smirking face. “Are you ready for the ride of your life Babybird?” Yes, God yes you were so so ready, but couldn't manage to mutter a word, but he understood what you wanted to say through your pleading eyes.

Standing you on the floor Keigo kneeled you by the coffee table and bent you directly over it, leaning back to gain a better look at your dripping holes. Deciding he can't just look at it once he reached on the table to grab his phone to snap a quick picture, receiving multiple commands for him to send it to them in return.

Setting his phone down, began to massage your ass, moving to your lower thighs, before asking if you were ready, to which you mustered up a quick nod. With your permission he slammed his entire length into your pussy, gaining a moan and a few more tears. Bending over he reached to hold your hand and continued like that for some time before pulling your upper body smashing it so your back was to his chest giving everyone else a view of your breasts bouncing.

Throwing your head back onto his shoulder, Keigo leaned down and began to suck hickeys into your shoulder. Continuing like this until both of you came in a whirl of moans for each other and overstimulation. You leaned back into his warm embrace before Rumi came and picked you up onto her previous chair. She kneeled in front of you and spread open your legs.

“Before I do this, does anyone want a picture?” every single one of them scrambled to get their phones and snap a picture of your overstimulated cum stuffed holes. “You all done now,” you knew that tone Rumi wanted you to herself for a bit. Receiving nods from the boys, now back in their spots on the couches.

She quickly grabbed your thighs and wrapped them around her head, latching her mouth onto your quivering hole, and began to suck as much cum out as he could before removing her head and kissing you. Making you eat all of the men's cum batch after batch. When she was finally finished getting every last drop of semen out of you, she grabbed a soft, damp towel and gently wiped you down. Kissing you all over earning giggles and soft moans from you.

After she was all down, Rumi picked you up and wrapped you around her body, placing small kisses on the side of your jaw and lips.

“Rumi. I’m tired”

“Ok, Bunny, That’s ok, you can sleep now” she gentle mumbled back gaining obnoxious “aw’s” from your audience.

ఌ

“I don't know about you guys, but we have to do that again”

All the head’s nod, including your lovely girlfriends.

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spideymarvelws · 3 years

Note

Peter Parker fluff- as friends or on a date, the reader and Peter go to target and cuteness, flirting and a lot of fluff happen 🥺

Some ideas ( if you don’t know what to do )

- Peter picks you an outfit to wear

- your in the makeup section shopping and Peter either gets into it or he gets bored

- in the food isles Peter says that you both should bake together

Even tho i’m not taking requests... i still wanted to do a little hc cause this idea was to cute to pass up that and i was feeling in a fluffy mood

Main Masterlist

I could see it just being something happening out of the blue

Well for Peter at least

He was ready to just chill at your place

Maybe get some last minute work down

But for the most part he was just excited to goof around with you like he did almost every afternoon

Maybe also gather the courage to confess his feelings to you

What he didn’t expect was to be attacked with your puppy dog eyes, asking him to come with you to target

You were already planning on going with a MJ but she bailed last second

For reasons unknown 👀

Definitely not because the constant pinning was getting on her nerves😀

And since it was a last minute decision to go, you didn't have the time to tell Peter your plans

So once he reached you immediately asked him to go with you

He ‘reluctantly’ agreed, coughing away the red all over his face when you grabbed his hand and dragged him out the apartment

Now where I live we don’t have target and I’ve only ever been there once so bare with me here

Peter doesn’t know jack shit about shopping for clothes

His waredrobe consists of the same jacket, two pairs of jeans he just washes every week, maybe a sweater or two and an entire draw dedicated to tshirts with science puns

And while you found the silly puns and jokes cute, especially when he looked so proud and went on little rambles when someone pointed them out

You couldn’t help but wonder how you could do so much better...

Queue the fashion show montage

The classic black jeans, white shirt combo for starters

Definitely trying out the bad boy look with a fake leather jacket over top

Does target sell plaid pants?💀 cause if they do thats a definite yes

We’ve seen how good Tom looks in them

And maybe- possibly you slipped in a crop top

The second best thing you’ve ever done after embarrassing him in front of the avengers

And as much as he didn’t want to admit, he liked it too

Quite a lot

But he couldn’t let you know that

Especially since he was acting done with the entire situation, he had to keep up with the facade

Not that it was believable when his face was the shade of the target logo itself

Subtly slipped the top into the cart

“I thought you didn’t like it?”

“shutup.” 🧍🏻

Picking out some clothes for you wasn’t any better

Because of course you picked the most revealing outfits

Constantly asking how he felt about it, if he liked the colour, the way it made you look

He always answered with the generic answer of you look beautiful in everything or just a quick, high pitched ye-yeah you look great!

Which was true, you could make a potato sack look amazing

But he wasn’t about to call his best friend sexy in the middle of a Target

Nor did he want to get turned on in the middle of a Target

So calling you beautiful seemed like the next best thing

After the absolute torcher mostly on his part in the in the clothes section

It was off to the makeup

And boy, did you take advantage of him

Using him as your brand new canvas

Countless swatches of eye shadow, lipstick, you name it, littered his arms with the first aisle

Honestly anything that caught your eye and had a free sample you used

Ofc this is after covid

Very pouty boi every time you grabbed his arm

But still looked at you like you lite up the sun

Which was always his downfall

Willing to help

But at what cost?

At some point, you managed to reach to his face

Manz do be looking like a full on clown afterwards🤡

But he was your clown 🥰

*cough cough*

Best friend clown ig 👀🙄😒

Luckily you kept makeup wipes in your bag

Because you were cruel, but not that cruel

And while Peter was relieved, he had to make a mental note to ask if you could do his face properly when you reached back home

Maybe it was because he actually quite liked how he looked with coloured eyeliner or maybe it was because of the close proximity of your face to his

Ig we’ll never know🤷‍♀️

At that point you thought you’d put him through enough

So you rewarded him with going to the toy aisle next

Because you can’t convince me that Peter Parker is not a man child by heart

And that is not the first place he would run too anytime he’s taken to any store like target

You’ve never seen him smile wider that day

Probably because all you’ve been making him do was blush and mumble words under his breath 😇

But he was especially pulled to all the spider man toys

In fact as you both entered the aisle there was already a small boy there, giggling with his parents as he held up packaged web-shooters and playing superhero, adorning a plastic spider-man mask on his face

Peter almost burst into a million pieces of confetti

And as the family left, he turned to you with a bright smile

“Can we get some?”

“THE CHILD??!!”

“WHAT!? NO! Not the child, the TOYS!”

such a weird sentence out of context lmaoo

Fast forward the next thirty minutes, the both of you are giggling and laughing, chasing each other around the aisles with plastic swords and shields

Peter having to hold you back from jumping into a crate of plushies

You making sure he never got any silly string cans in his hands

Just pure chaos

How you both haven’t gotten kicked out? Only bingus knows

Having that moment where he sneaks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against him, just muttering boo in your ear to scare you

Him laughing at you

You trying to calm your racing heart

Then realising how close both your faces where

The area becoming quiet

Feeling his breath against your face

His body close to yours

All Peter saw was you and all you saw was Peter

The both of you slowly leaning in, gaze switching from his lips to his eyes, making sure that this was something that he wanted

Feeling his lips brush along yours, reading to fully press them against-

“eXUsE mE? But do you knew where the shampoo is?”

👁👄👁

🧍‍♀️🧍🏻

🦗 🦗 🦗

Peter stepped away and politely guided the lady to the aisle, earning him a pat on the head while you stood awkwardly by your cart

You both strolled to the food area in silence, immediately separating to ‘divide and conquer’ but in reality it was to fully process what just happened

While you were overthinking near the pastries, Peter was working over by the fruits, hating that the moment was ruined and wondering what would’ve happened if you weren’t interrupted

He kept thinking about the fact that you didn’t pull away

That you leaned in with him

That he felt your lips even if it was for a split second

He wasn't about to let his opportunity go to waste

And his sudden burst of courage

So as you both checked out and walked out of the store, he was quick to pack everything in the trunk of the car, pushing the cart right in front of you and blocking you from climbing into the drivers seat

“Get in.”

“Heh?”

“Get in.”

You blinked

“As in, get into the cart?”

“Yes.”🙂

hehe

you’re in danger😀

But nevertheless you got into the cart, trying your best to find a comfortable position

You mind immediately went to Peter rushing you across the carpark, sending you both flying into a hospital bed

But you didn’t expect him to pull out a camera along with a bouquet of flowers you didn’t know he bought

He delicately gave it to you, blushing when your fingers brushed along each other

“I just- I just wanted to get some photos for memories.”

His hand rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes locked on his shoes that tapped on the floor repeatedly

You bit your lip, relaxing into the cart with your leg thrown over the thin plastic and flowers held to your chest

“Like one of your french girls?”

“Okay. Just because we watched Titanic last week does not give you the right to use that line everywhere,”

“Just shut up and take the pictures Parker.”

After a few moments of Peter circling the cart, making sure to get the perfect angles that captured the sun set behind you but kept you as the focus point of the picture, you started to zone out

Instead of focusing on making a certain face or direction, you took in his appearance

Hair tousled and glowing brown, moving perfectly with the wind

His face fully concentrated on taking the pictures

It was a perfect picture

He was a perfect picture

“If this is for memories you gotta get in here too Peter.”

You smiled, waving your hands and ushering for him to come closer

“I- okay.”

He walked behind the cart hesitantly, leaning over with the camera to get the both of you in frame

He had to lean a little bit closer, his face right next to yours

So as his finger pressed the button to take the photo, you took the courage to turn your head to give him a kiss on the cheek

But he turned his head to do the same thing

Resulting the both of your lips connecting, a quick peck that sent to both of your head spiralling and smiles growing

“Never thought our first kiss would be in a target carpark.”

“Can out second one be there too?”

“Damn right it can.”

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #peter parker hc #main character shit right there #people only appear for plot purposes😒🤚#as they should

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perditus-a · 3 years

Text

50 Headcanons Challenge

He has a unique bird language strictly specific to himself, but cannot understand other birds nor communicate with them.

His feathers shift slightly as time goes on, so the ones on the ends and lower are older than the ones closest to the base.

His two sword feathers are unique in that he usually uses them last if he can. They’ve been growing the longest, hence their size, and are his strongest ones.

Keigo does rifle through his wings and clean feathers that get too old though, because if they become too strong and dense it makes it harder to fly.

The larger the feather, the more it can carry and withstand. His two feather blades can handle several hundred pounds - but they’re slower to move so there is a limit to how big he should go.

His wings are strong, but as a child he couldn’t really lift himself as easily. It took a lot of fluttering wings and tripping and falling to get to a level of flight that was respectable.

His wings are trained not to react to his emotions, but when he isn’t trying they’re VERY emotional! They rise in excitement, droop in anger, and flutter with intense happiness and love. They also tense up in anger.

Keigo’s visor nullifies the enhanced sight he gained from his bird-like qualities because it’s too much and causes eye strain. He also has contacts and glasses that do the same function.

His earmuffs protect his ears during flight but also dull sounds so he can focus. Since he has his feathers and vibration sensing techniques, he can afford to lose it in exchange for greater focus on the field.

Yes his eye marks are birthmarks! But he also adds on a little eyeliner to make them look smoother.

He collects jewelry, especially earrings. He’s specifically fond of studs and has different sets. He even cheekily buys some to match his best friends as well.

Keigo can use JSL and ASL. He decided to pick it up so that he could communicate with deaf people on the field as well as vocal people. He thinks it’s important and advocates for it to be included in curriculum, though to little success.

He also uses Morse code and has trained his sidekicks and interns to use it as well. He uses it in conjunction with his feathers.

Keigo is well trained in hand-to-hand, but his specialty deals with swords and generally keeping his distance.

Much of his training in his youth was geared towards flight. A lot of the little quirks about his...well quirk... were discovered along the way and then focused on if they proved to be useful ( his vibration sensing ).

He can play guitar sort of, he’s not specially trained or anything - he can recognize chords and play based off of that but can’t come up with much on his own.

He has a pet falcon - their name is Kaze and they’re a TOTAL asshole to Keigo and everyone. But he trained them to deliver messages and do all kinds of things, so he’s stuck with them.

Keigo is trans! He has opted to not do any surgeries and probably never will due to being comfortable enough as is. He does wear binders though!

Keigo is bisexual - but tends to lean towards males.

He despises the League of Villains, but does have sympathy for specific members and the MLA.

He never went to any school before the commission picked him up, and learned things by reading newspapers and listening to people from the side.

He never had friends before the commission - his father wouldn’t let him see anyone.

Though he’s had social training, genuine stuff is actually a problem for him and more often than not he’s faking it. Completely.

The spot between his wings on his back is a sweet spot, and feels relaxing to rub. It makes him calm down from a panic attack.

Keigo is terrible at games unless they’re pay to win. Then he’s at least decent.

Keigo actually makes nests when he sits around and stuff, and have blankets all over his office and stuff. It’s completely subconscious, and he just does it without thinking.

He loves to kiss, it’s very very fun for him.

His preference for pets is dogs, despite having a Falcon. He doesn’t have the time to take care of one...but he wants one BADLY.

He can hold his breath longer than most due to his quirk, and it’s why he can fly in the air without requiring a mask.

After the WAR ARC, his ability to hold his breath is severely weakened and he can’t fly as high anymore without a mask. ( if he ever even gets his wings back TO fly).

His bones are dense but hollow and light, allowing him to take flight easier. It makes his body weigh a lot less than normal people his age, but it’s completely healthy.

Keigo’s favorite food is chicken, followed by strawberries and peaches. He’s a big fruit guy. He makes all kinds of fruit smoothies during his own time.

He has crazy balance, but losing his wings makes him stumble and fall a lot. Keigo is used to having a heavy weight on his back, and without it he’s clumsy and more likely to fall or knock in to things.

Keigo’s wings actually glow under the right type of light! His wings are very much like normal bird wings, and thus have the same properties. The colors are red/blue/purple with dapples of white.

He can see ultraviolet things, when his eyesight isn’t being diminished by his equipment. He dislikes it though.

He had always wanted a sibling as a kid, but has since grown out of that and desires a family instead.

He hates his father, but he’s always loved his mom even when she neglected him or said mean things to him...he wanted her to love and want him. It’s why he left, so he could give her a better life and hoped that maybe she would finally love him.

He didn’t start liking Endeavor until he busted his dad, though he grew more fond of him due to the plushie. He originally liked All Might, but he became more of an impersonal hero at best - Endeavor felt very real to him.

He’s considered dying his hair, but decided to keep it the same. He would rather have something to resemble his mother.

Keigo’s not really afraid of injuries and death because of his mom’s creepy quirk. It’s why it was easy for him early on to accumulate to it.

He loves motorcycles and hate’s most normal modes of travel. He does have a car, but it’s specially modified to allow him to relax his wings and not feel cramped.

Keigo only wears designer clothes while out and about, because it’s for his personal image as well as contracts his agency has.

Speaking of which, he models on the side as well as hero work! It’s pretty fun for him, but he doesn’t do topless shoots unless it’s for charity aimed at supporting LGBTQ+ groups.

Keigo can turn off his vibration sensing, but sometimes it’s difficult and he can get sensory overload. He usually counts under his breath when he’s feeling overwhelmed and needs a moment. He tries to hide this though.

His feathers are also sensitive, and he doesn’t like them being yanked. They only remove painlessly when he uses his quirk to do so.

He hates fire as well as storms.

Keigo also hates swimming, because the water makes his wings heavy and it gives him a back ache.

He has smacked in to a window once. Only once. He was a little intoxicated at the time since he very rarely drinks.

Keigo can’t taste spicy food at all! So he tends to make overly spicy food and his friends suffer for it. Oops.

Keigo absolutely loves swords!!!

#|| ✦ || Our wings are small but the ripples of the heart are infinite || Headcanons #|| ✦ || Where flowers bloom so does hope || OOC #winks at u #I DID IT #bnharpchub

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justasparkwritings · 3 years

Text

Merry & Bright {27}: Glitter on the Floor*

Previous: Anticipating

youtube

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader

Genre: SMUT

Rating: NC17

Warnings: Swearing! Sexy Times!

Summary: The morning after your New Years party is the perfect time to discuss your future.

Taehyung wakes slowly, the sun streaming in from a crack in the blinds. His mind is hazy with memories of last night, dancing, glitter, sequins, base rattling the chandelier, Ho-Seok’s dance break, eating pizza in the living room at 2AM and, you. Rolling over, he finds you tucked under the blankets, hair a halo on your pillow, skin illuminated by the beams of light. He’d give anything to wake up like this every day, the city restless outside the confines of his home, glitter seeping into every crack and crevice of the apartment, you beside him.

You’d agreed to host the New Year’s bash simply based on the look Ho-Seok had given you when it came up. Any chance to wear neon eyeliner and encrust your eyelids with rhinestones was an opportunity you would be foolish not to take. You’d meticulously planned the evening, from the theme to the food, Taehyung offering creative direction and steering the ship with you, taking turns as you cruised. It had been everything you’d ever wanted in a party, all your favorite people, the best food, Jimin and Jungkook setting the music for the night with a brilliant mix of pop, American, European and Korean, mixed with R&B and full of energy. The polaroid cameras they’d been gifted were out and about, extra film in one central location, which inevitably led to photos people forgot or didn’t like scattered on the hardwood. You didn’t care, it was going to go down as the most spectacular New Years party ever had, which finished nicely with an outstanding fireworks display and the love of your life’s lips on yours at midnight. Though, Taehyung didn’t know he was the love of your life, and in your haste to celebrate a new year with your friends, you hadn’t taken the time to tell him like you had planned. Instead, you bit back your words, kissed him wildly, and retreated to the dance floor.

As you roll over, eyes opening to the morning light, your chocolate eyes land on his, already awake, already staring.

“Morning,” He says, hand reaching out to cup your cheek, thumb moving gently against your bottom lip.

“Morning,” You reply, eyes still covered in sleep, body too tired to react to his gentle touch.

“Did you sleep good?” He asks, propping himself up on his elbow.

“Mm, am I not still asleep?” You wonder, eyes blinking rapidly.

“Depends what your dreams were about,” Taehyung says, arm reaching for your hips, pulling your body closer to his.

“I don’t remember,” You say, “I was reliving flashes of last night.”

“Which parts?” He inquires, breath hot on your face as he places kisses on your forehead, lips dragging to your cheeks, across to your nose.

“The best parts,” You say, eyes fluttering closed to encourage your senses to focus on his touch.

“Which were?” His lips whisper against your ear, teeth tugging your bare earlobe gently. It wasn’t often that your ears weren’t adorned, and he relished the ability to take your sensitive flesh between his teeth.

“You,” You whisper, hips already becoming unruly under his touch. “Tae,” You moan gently, hands moving up his chest, tweaking his nipples between your fingers.

“Y/N,” He moans against your neck, lips pressing gently on your flesh, teeth ready and willing to nip at the exposed skin.

Your hands snake around his neck, fingers tugging the hair at the nape of his neck, gently pulling his head up.

“Tae, look at me,” You whine. Taehyung pulls up, tongue absentmindedly jutting between his lips.

“What is it?” He asks, eyes searching yours.

“I wanted to tell you something last night but I didn’t get the chance,” You scoot your body so it’s flush against his, his bare chest radiating heat through your modal pajama shirt.

“What is it aein?” He whispers, eyes struggling to stay focused on yours when your lips are pouting so perfectly.

“I love you,” You say.

“I love you too,” He responds, still confused why this statement is requiring so much levity.

“I wanted to tell you that, I think, no, I know that you, Kim Taehyung, are the love of my life and I just, I felt like I wanted,” You blink quickly, hoping the tears forming wouldn’t fall, “I needed to tell you.” Your words become weightless as they leave your lips, floating between you before Taehyung breathes them in.

“I’m the love of your life?” He asks, eyes both wide in shock and knitted in confusion.

“Yes, and I know that I might not be yours,” Your words are becoming more rushed as you try to fill the silence.

“Aein,” He says, eyebrows relaxing. “You’re the love of my life, too.”

It’s then that your tears begin to fall, delicate beings just waiting to rain down your cheeks. Taehyung is crying too, this profession of love, of dedication, far greater than any you’d ever shared before.

Taehyung is quick to place his lips on yours, but you’re quicker, pushing his shoulders back, straddling his hips only to grind yours against him, lips surging with his. His large hands, warm and tender, slide gently from the top of your knees up your thighs, resting softly against your hips, thumbs dipping below the band of your underwear.

You stay on top of him, both sets of hips rocking into each others until the tension is too great, you’re too turned on and his arousal, aggressively pressing into you is driving you both insane. The lewd sounds escaping both of your lips can’t be masked as his hands move under your pajama top, cupping your breasts, gently kneading them. Your focus on his lips is breaking as you start to circle your hips against him, causing Taehyung to arch his back, head turning to the side to moan your name into the open air.

“Jagiya, I need you to st-stop,”

“Why?” You ask, voice muffled by your teeth against the column of his throat.

“I’m too close, I want to last,” His words are strained as you continue to bruise his flesh, pulling away to pull your top overhead, too hot and sticky to keep the garment on.

“Y/N, damn it,” Taehyung mutters before he’s flipping you over and swiftly pulling the remainder of his clothing off. Your eyes are wide at the sight of him, fully nude and wanting, the tip of his cock red and ready to burst his load. He stares at you, breasts heavy, begging him to sink his teeth around your nipples. “I can’t believe I get to spend my life with you.”

“Yeah?” Is all your able to get out before he’s greedily climbing over you, your legs spreading wide to accommodate him. The look in your eyes tells him where you want him, and his lips and fingers are greedy in their devouring of your cunt. He’s generous and forgiving, skillful and still learning, never tiring of trying new techniques or sticking with his tried-and-true methods of getting you to your edge and then some.

No matter how many times you’re intimate, regardless of the minutes or hours he’s accumulated between your legs, his curiosity and blatant skill always surprises you. He knows your body, by your breath, by the knit on your brow, by the way your thighs quiver, he knows you.

Which is why when he stops his movements, tongue retreating to his mouth, fingers pulling out of you abruptly, you’re confused and wanting.

“Tae,” You question.

He doesn’t say anything as he grabs a pillow from the floor, hand tapping your hips, which you raise so that he can place it underneath you. He repositions himself between your open legs and pushes himself in, bottoming out within seconds. Your surprise at his change in demeanor, from doting lover to dominant tempter, is overwhelming and so fucking sexy. His movements are all over the place, languid and sensual, then quick and charging. The change in pressure is disorienting as your body gives into the unsteady rhythm, your ability to control any aspect of yourself completely gone.

All that exists is your moans, loud and frequent, only being swallowed when Taehyung places his lips over yours, messily meeting you where you’re at, tongue and teeth engaging as he feels you tighten around him. He moves one of his hands, which has been propping him up, to find your throbbing clit. It doesn’t take him more than a few quick circles to send you absolutely over the edge, the edging of the morning racking through you. Taehyung comes undone within you; his inhibitions gone as he empties himself fully.

He rests his chest against yours, head in the crook of your neck, as both of you gasp for air. As his heartbeat slows, he rolls over, grateful for the extra space to breathe.

“Water?” He asks. You nod before standing and slipping your pajama top back on, feet guiding you to the bathroom, then to the kitchen where you fill two glasses. As you pad back to the bedroom, glitter and dried candle wax sticking to your feet, you pick up a stray polaroid, a photo a drunken Jungkook had taken of you and Tae, kissing at midnight.

“We should frame this,” You say, handing Tae the photo and glass of water.

“When you move in,” Taehyung says, his thoughts from waking returning to him.

“Absolutely,” You respond. “You and me,” you add placing a kiss on his lips.

“Forevermore,” Taehyung smiles.

Next: Too Early in the Game

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colossaldame-a · 3 years

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HEADCANON BUFFET !

for the 50 headcanons challenge that @bnharpchub made i’ll be reposting the ones i posted in my main blog the other day , since they are pretty recent still ! ! beware that some of these might have spoilers , both for the main manga and for the vigilantes manga --- not all obviously , but a few !

she eats A LOT , it helps with her quirk since she has a giant hehehe appetite ! no seriously , she probably eats almost as much as taishiro ( fatgum ) , but due to her transforming a lot and training it doesn’t look as much ( neither does she want it to be noticeable ) .

she actually loves to play video games ! first person shooting games are the ones she is better at , but she will play everything !

her favorite solo game of all time is the last of us , and her favorite co-op one is gang beasts ! although just dance will always have a special place in her heart .

she has the animal crossing switch !

yu swears A LOT too , usually when playing though , it’s pretty funny to see her lose her cool , actually -

her setup looks like this !

she streams , but actually doesn’t show her face or reveals her identity at all ! it’s like a little safe spot for her it’s also a good way of getting money for the damage she causes while working !

on that note : one time on a stream , yu got told that ladies shouldn’t swear as much as she did , so she spent the next 30 mins somehow managing to get a swear in every sentence . she only stopped because she didn’t know how to continue anymore .

since in her original design yu had blue hair , i’m going with the idea that she had a tiny little bitsy emo phase back in middle school . that’s also when she started to play more on her computer !

she has two older brothers , who are twins ! taichi’s quirk is the ability to make things big by touch , while koba’s to make things small ! her mother , tsukiko , her quirk is to make any part of her body grow : hands , feet , ears ! anything ! her father’s ( his name is kimio ! ) is the ability to touch anything and be able to mold it into something else !

her brothers ( now both 29 ) , they used to participate in the fighting matches that rappa and miruko participated in ! yu is aware of this due to the fact that they would ask her to distract their parents while they sneaked out , or to cover up for them in case anything happened !

know how astronauts have trouble adjusting to life on earth again , because of how they let go of things in the air thinking they’ll stay there , but get confused when they drop to the ground because gravity ? that’s kinda what happens with her , but with the size of things ! while in her normal form , she envisions things as smaller than what they really are , and ends up getting surprised each time !

since yu is the youngest of 3 children , she always grew up in a competitive environment and mindset . that didn’t change much the moment she became a hero , always aiming for the top and to be the ‘winner’ . HOWEVER , that began to change the more she grew as a hero , not having that mindset as her priority anymore but in the back of her head , and due to the recent events of the manga , it’s almost completely gone .

she actually knows a lot of puns , usually doesn’t say them often but she knows them !

the fight between her and nemuri ( midnight ) that happened on that talk show ? completely fake , they planned it before hand !

yu’s favorite hero since she was a teenager was , in fact , midnight ! the mask she wears with her hero costume is in her honor ( now more than ever ) !

like momo and itsuka , her first internship as a hero student was with uwabami . it’s thanks to her that she wears the curls in her hair bangs now !

she likes to jog at night , when it’s chilly ! this does not apply in the winter , though ; too chilly !

as the only daughter in the family , as well as the youngest , she is spoiled . it happened , it’s okay -

the only reason why yu got mineta as an intern after the sports festival was because of his color scheme being similar to hers . the moment she met him for real she wanted to kick him to the sun , but alas couldn’t and shouldn’t and she knows that ( unfortunately ) .

the way yu and her family found out about her quirk was one time in a picnic , when she was 5 years old . thankfully , they were far away from people , but it took her 30 minutes to be able to turn back to her normal form . from that day on ,, her parents started to buy her clothing that fit her quirk . she had control over her quirk one year later , and since she was 15 she didn’t need to wear that special clothing . although sometimes she still has certain outbursts and it causes for it to activate .

to everyone’s surprise ( not really , if you remember that she dyed her hair ) , her favorite color is blue !

her favorite song is timber , which is pretty ironic in itself ; although she also vibes to wap !

yu records and takes pictures a lot ! and due to that , her tiktok account ( because lets be real , she has one ) is filled with videos of funny things happening while working .

she is bisexual , and usually goes for men that are older than her , and women around her age ! obviously this doesn’t apply if she meets someone she really likes , but that’s usually how it goes !

yu really likes asmr !

her nickname in high school was sharpay evans ; she took it as a compliment !

since kamino , she wears her suit under her casual clothing --- her mask usually kept either inside a pocket of her jacket , or inside a purse she has at the moment . that experience ( mostly best jeanist though ) taught her that she can’t let her guard down .

she knows how to play the violin !

one time she entered a competition of people dressing up as a heroes , mostly as a joke : she lost , and the judges told her that her hair looked fake . it took a lot to keep things calm then .

yu prefers to not wear much makeup , on contrary to popular belief ! eyeliner , mascara , lipstick and a bit of concealer under her eyes usually does the trick ! although she has tons of makeup and will often do looks when she is at home ( and if there’s any formal event happening ! ) .

yes , she liked one direction when in her emo phase . nobody knows , it’s her dark secret ; even darker than that whole phase itself and yes , she cried when zayn left .

yu doesn’t like kids , at all . teenagers are alright though , she supposes .

yu , tsunagu and keigo ( best jeanist and hawks , or rather : @fiibermaster and @perditus ) have weekly meetings to spill the tea . honorary members are katsuki and neito , though .

continuing from above , that’s how she always knows the spiciest drama that happen . it’s pretty funny , actually .

continuing of from 33 , @perditus‘s keigo is absolutely her best friend .

since her quirk only allows her to have those two heights , yu has taken upon herself to learn and and know more of 1v1 combat , meaning beginning to train more martial arts .

her favorite movie is legally blonde ! and her favorite series is new girl ! although her favorite character of all time is tanya from mamma mia ! !

her favorite animal are squirrels ! she finds them cute and that’s why she has caroline in her island in animal crossing ! !

yu’s taste in music is very sporadic , although a lot of songs end up being slightly suggestive . here’s her playlist .

yu has met both @explodeking‘s katsuki and @shockingtm‘s denki through gaming online . when she heard their voices she went pikachu shocked face !

mentioning katsuki ; you bet your ass she absolutely went and asked about the kids first thing after waking up after kamino .

she might have gotten a few scars from kamino ward , but she actually absolutely cherishes them . because those scars reminder her of how they trusted her for such important mission , to be able to work along heroes that were in the top 10 . it actually means a lot to her , although if asked yu will just shrug it off .

she likes to camp and hike ! granted , she hates it because no wifi and no games , but that way she can use her quirk without much trouble of hurting people or destroying things and therefore relax a little .

yu naturally smells of roses and surprisingly ; rain .

unlike many , yu doesn’t even think on quitting her job after the war : in fact the whole thing that happened made her grow more stubborn about it . also made her realize how much she still has to grow as a hero , and she can’t wait to leave the hospital and start training and helping those who need it right now .

it took her one day to wake up after what happened too , and while she did have many injuries , the worst ones ended up being on her head . right now it’s mostly wrapped up , and she has been having many headaches even with the pain killers .

she doesn’t like spicy food that much , but she will eat it either way .

in her giant form , she will often whisper ; since if she speaks normally , it’s already pretty loud .

and finally ! the glare that machia gave her right before grabbing her head and throwing to the side ; it scares her still . in that moment she realized he was basically just playing around , while she was doing her most to stop him . she has nightmares about it still .

#CRYING SPENT THE WHOLE DAY ON THIS #* HEADCANONS // it goes one by one ; even two by two - everybody in the club gon' be rocking when i'm through .#bnha spoilers //#manga spoilers //

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kbstories · 4 years

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Axiomatic

ax·i·om·at·ic (adj.)

Self-evident; unquestionable.

The best part of battle is the afterparty.

(Or: Remember that banquet Luffy promised? This is it.)

Tags: Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Partying

Set in Wano. Spoilers for all of Wano. Read Chapter 2 here.

***

“What do you think?”

Lipstick glides over thin lips, the wax malleable and smooth as it leaves a coat of rusty red in its wake. Killer makes sure it’s perfectly even before he glances elsewhere. In the mirror, Kidd’s face is all scowled impatience.

One last run-down – eyeliner, mascara, lipstick: done, done and done – then Killer grabs the mask waiting for him. “Alright, let me see.”

Their eyes meet and Killer sighs. Metal over skin-and-bone, Kidd’s arms are crossed; his shaved brows push together further. As if Killer doesn’t indulge his every whim by the regular.

“I’m looking. Show me again.”

Kidd grumbles, “Watch.” He opens his arms, reveals an unbuttoned shirt tucked into his favorite patterned pants, glinting gold over black under a double-belted cinch at the waist. So far, so very Kidd.

No, the point of discussion is the frankly massive coat slung across his neck: Nice soft-looking suede on the outside and glossy-grey fur on the inside, it hugs Kidd’s shoulders in all the right places to then cascade down his back in a display of near-ridiculous opulence.

Extravagant, over-the-top, flashy. It’s hard to tell which type of animal had to die for this. There must be a lot less of ‘em now, with this monstrosity in the world.

Kidd is swiveling it back and forth with critical glances to the mirror, the coat wooshing with the motions. Killer takes in the fluid glide of fur over Kidd’s exposed chest, the contrast of impeccable couture against jagged scars. Loses himself for a moment or two imagining how it would feel like to run his hands over both.

An appreciative hum. In Killer’s educated opinion, Kidd looks damn near sinful.

“Yeah?”, Kidd asks and Killer nods. “Yeah. Heh, told ya the detour’s worth it.”

Perhaps it was, although sifting through Onigashima’s treasury whilst bleeding all over heaps of shiny expensive everything might’ve been a case of skewed priorities. There’s no need to talk about what-could-have-beens, though – they’re here, they’re rich and they’re long overdue at Strawhat’s banquet.

Killer’s practically done, tight jeans under a shirt that’s done up to the third button and left to flare open otherwise. It’s not his old favorite (that one stopped fitting him a good year ago) but similar enough, patterned in geometric black-and-white shapes. Definitely one of his fancier ones, not that anyone will care one way or the other where they’re going.

It’s… been a while since it’s been anyone other than them and their crew. Pirates are pirates, allied or no; Killer eyes the scythes neatly stored next to the bed.

Kidd is touching up his lips one last time, the same shade as Killer’s. “Bring ‘em. That Roronoa guy keeps throwing you weird looks and I’m not allowed to kill him.”

Yet goes implied. Killer isn’t wearing his mask and so he doesn’t roll his eyes. “He’s got every reason to”, he reminds his captain, focusing on the heavy clasps of his weapons to keep the memories at bay. The red mark on his chest stings, stuck in the limbo between a healing wound and a fresh scar for a few days still.

A testament to his failure that Killer won’t hide. If Zoro hadn’t stopped him that day his hands would be stained with blood that cannot be washed off, not entirely.

Kidd’s eyes are on him, dark. “I don’t care.”

Resentful as always. Killer reaches for him, digs his fingers into the fluffy lining of that coat and oh, the fur is as soft as it looks. “I do, though.” A firm tug, one Kidd follows until Killer can kiss him, careful not to smudge anything.

“No killing of allies today, ‘kay? We just came back from a war. The crew’s tired. I’m tired.”

“Mh” is all Kidd has to say to that, a grumpy huff against Killer’s lips more than anything. Kidd does give him a proper kiss, however, and Killer knows he won this one.

All he can ask of Kidd is to try, anyways – with two equally hot-headed captains and a whole host of morons around to rile him up, there’s bound to be blood eventually. The trick is to make sure everyone’s drunk enough not to take it too personally.

A pinch to his ass tells Killer he was caught scheming. Kidd smirks, tells him, “We’re getting wasted tonight”, all triumphant like it’s the best idea he’s had all week, and Killer doesn’t miss the emphasis on we.

“Two Emperors down! Strawhat better bring the good stuff tonight or this alliance is over.”

Killer groans, “Kidd”, but he’s smiling, too. Before he can be called out on it, Killer shoves his mask into Kidd’s hands, metal clanking against metal. “Make yourself useful. We’re late.”

Kidd’s laugh is more of a cackle than anything else – “Yes, darling”, said in that sarcastic lilt Killer knows all too well – yet Kidd complies. His hands, organic or otherwise, handle the mask they’ve built with care and precision. Soon, Killer’s vision is narrowed down to dots, the audio filter of his helmet kicking in soon after.

Killer rolls his neck and hums, satisfied. “Ready?”

Kidd throws a final look at himself in the mirror, grinning into the collar of his new coat.

“Hell yeah. Let’s go.”

The banquet is a sprawling, messy affair that swallows the entirety of the ramshackle village the Strawhats picked as their home in Wano Country.

From the moment the Kidd Pirates get there they are surrounded. Wherever Killer's eyes roam there are knots of people drinking, eating, laughing and crying, sometimes simultaneously – there, at the heart of it all where the crowd is thickest, burns the largest bonfire Killer has seen in a while, perhaps ever. Smiling faces all around and for once, it doesn’t make Killer’s stomach drop because they’re genuine.

Survivors of SMILE just like him, caught in the rush of real emotions for the first time in who knows how long. Killer has a pretty good idea how that feels like.

Next to him, Kidd is so tense he’s stalking, gaze intense, oozing Haki to keep people away; Wire’s hand is clenched to bloodlessness around his trident while Heat exhales a bit of smoke with every breath and yeah, Killer gets it. Can’t help it himself, either, scythes kept close to his sides to make sure they’re there.

The thing is: They don’t do these kinds of things. Parties, yes, many and often but not like this. Killer can count on one hand the amounts of times the population of any island was actually happy to see them, much less willing to send them off with one big feast.

Actually, he wouldn’t need to count at all because it’s simply never happened. Even filtered by his mask it’s… a lot to take in at once.

The entire damn country is here, it seems, all breathing a collective sigh of relief so monumental the air itself carries their joy. For all that the Kidd Pirates were in this for revenge and glory, Killer can’t deny it’s rewarding to see a nation so ravaged by an Emperor’s greed do whatever they want for the first time in decades.

Finally, a few familiar faces start popping up. Some of the samurai greet them with nods of their heads, overly formal like the people from Wano tend to be; here and there they spot the distinctly branded yukata the members of Trafalgar’s crew are wearing and, rarer but all the more noticeable, those animal people Strawhat dragged along from somewhere.

Minks? Or something? Killer is inclined to say it doesn’t matter if they didn’t have the habit to jump on them out of fucking nowhere. Looking for bone-crushing hugs and wet-nosed kisses, of all things, and– Oh no, he did not sign up for this.

Much less for whatever that group of cat minks are gearing up to, staring at the holes in his mask with eyes nearly swallowed by black, round pupils. Killer is absolutely, solidly convinced he doesn’t even want to know what that’s all about.

“Captain.”

And yeah, his tone is a little more alarmed than he truly means it to be. It gets Kidd’s attention, though – himself having fought off a dog mink enamored with his metal arm not too long ago – and he barks a laugh even when he ramps up his presence to an almost stifling degree.

“C’mon, I feel Strawhat up ahead.”

To nobody’s surprise, they find him smack dab in the middle of everything. Strawhat and his crew are lounging around the bonfire, there’s no other way to describe it: All broad smiles and flushed faces amidst the chaos, completely in their element, and it’s hard to tell if it’s the closeness to the bonfire or the vaguely impressive amounts of empty bottles lying around already. They’re certainly boisterous enough for it to be the latter, even Jinbei.

And no, Killer hasn’t quite processed that turn of events yet. The strangeness of seeing someone of that caliber wheeze into his mug with laughter as his (new?) captain takes a disturbingly big bite out of an even bigger chunk of meat is… not helping things, in that regard.

What a bunch of weirdos. In the safety of his mask, Killer allows himself a small smile.

From here the flames seem to reach for the sky, tinged in warm pinks and oranges by the sinking sun and there, very faintly, Killer can make out the first stars. He can’t remember ever seeing them, not with the factories running over night as well.

“Spikey!!”

Ah. Killer’s head turns with Kidd’s and it’s a good thing, too, because there’s a stretched arm coming for his captain – Kidd bites out, “Nope, no, Strawhat”, red eyes going wide – and Killer manages to side-step it in the last possible second. One, twice it wraps around Kidd, fancy coat and all, and then the rubber recoils.

“Killer!”

Oh my, Killer thinks mildly as he watches him go. Behind him, half their crew is flabbergasted and the other half is in stitches. “Captain’s gonna be in such a mood”, Heat says to Wire, and it just sends them into another fit of chuckles.

For Killer, finding a drink becomes his top priority. So much for keeping things peaceful.

>>Chapter 2.

#one piece #eustass kid #killer one piece #kidkiller #fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #this is a setup for smut in chapter 2 ngl #(i just got carried away as per usual)#this fic is also on AO3!!#my stuff #one piece spoilers

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dixbolik-lovers · 4 years

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That’s too tough!!! >:3 There’s no way I can decide~ Thus, I’m just going to post all of their faces and gush over how pretty they all are!

F (who shares Laito’s voice actor~) is ofc a very pretty boy. I love his purple eyes, and the pink streak in his hair is a real charm point. The rest of his hair is super fluffy too!! His voice is basically the same as Laito’s... and just as sexual, and look at that precious lil tongue sticking out.

Belga is just... baby. I love his hair color (pretty and pink!!!), and his face looks so fucking soft. He’s got the squishy cheeks and the little fangs and his grumpy expression is adorable. His fangs are my favorite part of his looks tbh.

Mikhael worries me. Those bandages mean something, probably bad. The rest of his face is gorgeous, though. Like, his features are so refined. His whole face is just really aesthetically pleasing to me, especially the subdued, peaceful expression that matches his soft voice perfectly.

Ninety worries me MORE, but just look at this cute puppy!!! His hair color is stunning– the gradient of neon pink and green, and his two-color eyes are just as pretty. I wish I could see his full face though :( Some people theorize that he has a slit mouth under that mask...

Ghost is just... wow. He’s so ethereal and pretty, with the soft, for-sure-silky white hair, tender-looking eyes, and fragile expression. He looks really breakable to me and we all know I love that. His outfit is also really nice. I read a creator’s note once saying that it’s meant to be a combination of bride and groom.

89 is adorable. I love his dead eyes and done-with-life face. He look so tired, and while I bet that all of them have dark circles to some degree, his are for sure the worst. He’s just so normal-looking compared to the rest of them that it makes him stand out even more... which he’d hate. >.>

Eins is REALLY handsome to me. He’s the tallest and oldest (physically speaking) of all of them, and his features are just beyond gorgeous. I love his hairstyle, especially the shaved bits, and everything from his face to his build appeals to me probably more than it should.

Kirsch is a little cutie!! I love his cotton-candy-colored hair, with the soft pink and blue, and his eyes match it perfectly. I love how innocent he looks (he’s NOT), and in the rest of his design, he’s got supidly long and pretty legs. His voice is really nice too! Very cute!

Hokusai is also very handsome!! I love the silver-to-blue gradient of his hair, and yes, this boy is definitely wearing eyeliner. His piercings, while a little worrying, are adorable, and the lil heart on his cheek is perfect. All of his scars are EXTRA worrying, but the one on his throat is a really nice touch.

Fal is just... handsome. His expression has always seemed really soft to me, like he’s a lot sweeter than he wants to let on. He gives me strong Reiji vibes too. I like his glasses (only megane gun!!), and his hair also looks super fluffy. His voice is really smooth and collected too, which fits him super well.

Love1′s design is all over the place, but boy does it work. I know I’m getting repetitive with this, but I love his hair color, and his pretty blue eyes just kill me. The hair spikes are perfect for his wild character, and the nosebleeds are kinda hot. Also worth note is that he shares a voice actor with Shin!!!

Like2 is a very pretty boy. He’s the only one of the Moderns with long hair, and boy does he pull it off. I love his pink theme, all the hearts in his design are super cute, and boy do his LEGS look great in his full artwork. He’s got a really soft face too, even when he goes all tsundere.

Aaaaand last is Mauser. He’s... he’s baby. Cute, cute baby. I love his military/boy lolita style design. He just looks so cute and young and aaaAA. His red eyes, even if they’re dead-looking, are beyond precious, and his hair looks perfect for ruffling!!! He’s also absolutely tiny.

#Gun boy tag #Long post

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h-styles-babes · 5 years

Text

NINE

Week Two

“You didn’t,” El gasped, genuinely surprised by her best friend. “Anastasia Marie!”

Sia threw her head back against her pillow and groaned. “I know! I didn’t mean to! It just slipped out. And then he started throwin’ shit back at me, and it all kinda escalated. Worse even, is that his manager’s here now. I’m sure Azoff is gonna have words for Bhasker.”

She really didn’t have any idea how it had come to this. Harry and Sia had spent the weekend away from each other after their little tiff at the bar on Friday night. Sia spent Saturday talking to Mitch about everything regarding herself and Harry Styles, and then they went down to the beach to try to wind down. She’d had fun learning to surfboard, though she wasn’t very good at it yet. On Sunday, she’d went into town and met up with Nadia for lunch, where she did everything in her power to not think about Harry. Did she feel bad for getting snippy with him while they were just trying to have a good time? Yes. But he’d been snippy back, and it was obvious neither one of them had any plans to apologise.

Monday’s recording session had been absolute chaos because Sia and Harry were actively avoiding having to look or talk to each other, and it was most definitely causing everyone around them discomfort. Sia couldn’t take another second of it once they were nearing on noon, but luckily Alex called for a lunch break, since they didn’t seem to be getting anywhere any time soon. Sia had quickly fled to the kitchen to grab a prepackaged salad from the fridge and was already dialing Ellen’s number as she walked down the hall to her room.

“Yeh both need to get your heads out of your arses and make this work,” El told her. “This is your first producer credit and this is his first solo album. It can’t turn out like shit because you two are being babies.”

“Hey,” Sia protested, not expecting this turn of events. Ellen was typically on her side, backing up her distaste for anyone Sia deemed unworthy. For the last six months, Ellen had wholeheartedly taken it upon herself to hate Harry’s guts just because he’d hurt her best friend. Now she was singing a different tune, and Sia hadn’t been prepared for it.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m still very upset with him,” Ellen quickly assured, sensing her friend’s affronted state. “But this shouldn’t be about the beef you two have with each other. Yeh need to set that aside and agree to play this out like civil human beings because yeh both want this album to be successful. Bein’ at each other’s throats about shit isn’t gonna make that happen.”

“Are yeh sayin’ we should call a truce while we’re workin’?” Sia asked.

“I’m sayin’ maybe yeh should actually…yeh know, work some shit out,” El suggested, a hesitancy in her tone. She wasn’t quite sure how Sia was going to take it. “Think a lot of the animosity comes from yeh not speakin’ to each other about what happened. Maybe it’s time yeh tell him? It’s been months, babe.”

Sia swallowed hard over her suggestion, the threat of bile rising in her throat. She felt nauseous at even the thought of opening up to Harry about her feelings and things. She knew it had been months since everything happened, but she was still hurt from it. No one just got over the things she’d gone through after they’d broken up. She’d had every intention of telling him about it at the time, but then he’d shown up with the brunette Barbie wrapped around him on a bloody yacht, and all her intentions flew out the window. He obviously didn’t care anymore, so what did it matter? If she told him, he’d just pity her. It wasn’t worth it, so she suffered alone. Well, not alone. She had Ellen and her parents, but no one who’s emotions would have been on the same level as hers. She may as well have been alone, she surmised.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for that, El,” Sia whispered, feeling the thickness in her throat that indicated her approaching tears. “And I don’t know if I wanna bring that vibe to all this.”

Ellen sighed. “I know, babe. And I know it’s hard. I still get emotional over it sometimes. But he deserves to know. I know yeh had your reasons for not tellin’ him before, but that was then. Who knows if you’ll ever see him again. He needs to know.”

Sia felt her tears slip back into her hairline, no doubt probably ruining her eyeliner along with it. “I know,” she whimpered.

All the crushing feelings she’d experienced when it’d first happened washed over her, breaking her heart all over again. Not that it’d ever properly healed from the initial wound, but there’d been secure bandages around it that made it possible for her to function as a normal human being. It felt like those bandages and plasters were being forcibly ripped from her being. Of course, she’d been to therapy to try to dull the pain and rebuild what part of her had been broken, but it was hard when a part of the source of her pain didn’t know anything.

And Ellen was right. Sia had had her reasons for not telling Harry at the time she found out. He’d broken her heart, and she had no intention of reopening those wounds when she had new ones with which to deal. So she’d trudged on with the most life-threatening of them, stopping the bleeding and preventing any further injury. The previous one seemed to heal on its own, though severely malnourished, so those parts of her were still wonky. But they functioned, which was all she could really hope for. The newest ones, though. They seemed to be infected and no matter how aggressively she tried to treat them, it just seemed to be persisting, running rampant with no sign of stopping. She’d had to prioritise.

“And I’m not sayin’ this is all on you. He definitely has some apologisin’ and grovellin’ to do. But right now he doesn’t know why you’re really mad, and so he’s probably lashin’ out because of that.”

Sia wiped at her tears and forced herself back up in bed. “I know. And I feel bad for antagonisin’ him the other night, but I couldn’t help it. I think we’re makin’ progress and I’m settin’ aside my feelings, and then I’m angry all over again. And then I feel like shit about it afterward.”

“I don’t blame yeh,” Ellen assured her. “It’s normal with what happened. But maybe lettin’ him into this part will help yeh heal. He’ll probably go through the motions of it all too, and maybe it’ll make yeh guys able to at least talk to each other. I’m sure it’d be nice to at least be friendly with him again.”

There was a knock on her door as Sia hummed in agreement with Ellen. She called for the person to come in, and Mitch peeked his head into the door.

“They’re ready to head back into the studio.” If he noticed that Sia had been crying, he didn’t comment on it.

“Alright, I’ll be there in a mo’.”

Mitch smiled at her and backed out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

“I gotta go, El. I’ll call yeh in a few days, I’m sure.”

“Alright, lovie. Let me know if yeh end up tellin’ him.”

Sia agreed and they hung up after quick farewells. Sia made a quick stop to the restroom to make sure her face was still in order before going back into the lion’s den that was the recording studio.

~*~*~*~

“Maybe we should stack the vocals there,” Harry suggested, pointing to a section of recording on the computer screen that Alex was sitting at.

It was Wednesday and they’d been trying to perfect this one song that Harry couldn’t seem to get right. Every which way they put it together sounded a bit off to him, and he could tell it was starting to wear on everyone, despite their willingness to let him keep fiddling with it. No matter how many times he went back in the booth to lay down a background note, it never sounded they way he’d wanted it to with the established lyrics and arrangement, and it was driving him absolutely bonkers. He could see the looks that flashed across everyone’s faces when he declared another change, but they quickly masked with with feigned enthusiasm. Everyone was trying to appease him, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

Everyone except Sia, that was.

This time, when he suggested his new idea, she groaned, throwing her head back in the chair that she was sat in beside Alex. They were on day three of trying to perfect this arrangement and he could tell it was wearing her nerves thin. He felt bad about it, because he didn’t want to cause anyone any stress, but she was getting on his nerves too, with all her snarky comments she spewed under her breath. She must have forgotten how truly attuned he was to her, though, because he heard every one of them, and it took him all his gained patience to not bite back. His own patience was wearing thin, though, and it was only a matter of time before he snapped back at her. He could feel it building underneath his skin like a bad rash.

“That’s gonna sound shit,” she argued, pointing at the fresh recording bit Harry had suggested inputting to the already laid track. “The notes don’t go together. They sound like they’re off two different songs. Yeh need to harmonise, Styles. Those aren’t harmonious. Jesus.”

Harry’s jaw clenched and he could feel the thread of his patience fraying.

“The last piece yeh recorded was better. It flows. What was wrong with that one?” she asked, pointing at the previous file that they’d liked best.

“It doesn’t feel right,” Harry told her, just like he’d told her the first time he’d heard it.

“‘It doesn’t feel right,’” she mocked, mostly to herself. “It doesn’t need to feel right. But it sounds right, and that’s what matters.”

“This is my fuckin’ album, Anastasia. I’ll do whatever the fuck I please,” he spit out. He was really trying to be civil for the sake of maintaining a professionalism with her, but she really knew how to press each and every one of his buttons.

“Cursin’ at me doesn’t scare me, Harry. Who do yeh think taught yeh how to use all those big boy words?” They glared at each other over the top of Alex’s head, which was the only thing that separated them physically. “And while this may be your album, the rest of us are workin’ our arses off on it, too.”

Harry’s nostrils flared as he huffed out a breath, reasoning with himself that he would most definitely not be hitting a woman ever in his life. Especially this woman, whom he’d spent a majority of his life loving with every fibre of his being. However, she was infuriating him to the point of an actual outburst, and he’d never wanted to smack someone so bad in his life. When they’d been together, she’d push his buttons and then they’d take it out on each other with a bit of rough sex. But since that wasn’t an option anymore, Harry was having a harder time expelling his pent up emotions.

“I swear to God, Anastasia…” he trailed off under his breath, closing his eyes against having to look at her. She was so fucking beautiful, her hazel eyes set with determination and her pretty lips pursed with her frustrations. He wanted to love her like he’d been free to for so many years of his life, but he couldn’t, and it was pissing him off that she was pissing him off intentionally. It was a conundrum.

Sia opened her mouth to bite back at him, but Jeff Azoff quickly butted in.

“Alright, maybe now is time for a bit of a break,” he suggested loudly over the rising volume of their argument. He took a quick glance at the watch that sat on his wrist. “It’s lunch time, anyway. How about we take an hour, and we’ll meet back here to start fresh.”

When no one gave any protests, Jeff nodded and they all broke for lunch, heading off in their different directions. Sia lingered behind in the studio while everyone exited, letting herself calm down a little from the strange nearly-yelling match she’d had with Harry. She hated herself for letting it get like that, but he was just getting under her skin like he’d always been able. It had worked for them so wonderfully when they were friends and then in a relationship, but it was just venomous now that they weren’t even acquaintances. There was no healthy way for her to expel all her fucked up emotions in that moment, and it was driving her a bit crazy. She wanted to rip her hair out with how frustrated she was with him.

She watched as Jeff pulled Harry aside with a grip on his shoulder as they got the threshold of the door. She was sure his manager was going to have words with his client about what the hell had just happened. Jeff obviously knew about Sia and Harry’s history, since Jeff had been his friend long before he’d become his manager. However, Sia was nearly positive some sort of backlash would come of this. While it was common for producers and artists to have tiffs about musical choices and stylizing arrangements, it was not at all common for them to yell at each other about it. She was mad at herself for letting it get like that, and all she could do after the fact was hope there were no serious ramifications to her career.

Sia finally let herself release tension from her shoulders when Mitch rapped his knuckles against the open doorframe. He had a sympathetic smile on his face, though he didn’t look like what had just taken place in the studio was a complete disaster.

“Is Harry pissed?” she asked him, letting herself relax back into her chair.

Mitch shook his head. “Nah. Think he realised you both were just upset. Heard Jeff asking him if this needed to be dealt with.” The way he said ‘this’ definitely implied to Sia that Jeff wasn’t happy with their behaviour. She’d be hard pressed to let Jeff take this opportunity away from her and postpone production. She’d fight to the death for this. “But Harry brushed him off and promised he’d fix it. Seemed to ease Jeff a bit.”

“Good,” Sia said. “I don’t know what the fuck happened. I think bein’ cooped up with him has started to take it’s toll. Too many pent up emotions, still.”

Mitch looked at her thoughtfully as he pushed his hair back behind his ears. She could see him beginning to chew on the inside of his cheek, like he was contemplating actually opening his mouth to speak. She didn’t want Mitch to be afraid to speak freely with her or ask her questions. They’d only known each other for two week, but she felt like she’d known him for ages. Plus she liked having someone here with her to express her worries and strifes with so openly. Talking to Ellen every couple days was great, but she couldn’t comfort Sia physically. Mitch was an actual shoulder to cry on, and between him and El, Sia felt like she could hold herself together through all of this.

“Just come out with it, Rowland,” she urged, kicking her foot out at him in a gesture to get his attention.

“Don’t think you have to tell me if you don’t want to,” he prefaced. “But, is the whole yacht thing the only reason you’re upset. Because, knowing what I do about you, I feel like you’d have been over that awhile ago.”

Sia furrowed her brows as she assessed him. He was far too intuitive for his own good, she realised. No one who didn’t know the full extent of the story had figured her ire and upset had been due to anything other than Harry’s betrayal. Her reaction was really only warranted if he’d actually cheated on her, which he hadn’t. However, Mitch was the first person to comment on the fact that Sia’s emotions seemed disproportionate to the act she was upset about. Maybe not all men were emotionally stunted after all.

“Yeh picked up on that, huh?” she asked.

He nodded at her. “Like I said, you obviously don’t have to tell me.”

Sia let the silence after his statement linger for a few moments, allowing her to ponder whether or not she actually wanted to tell Mitch. It seemed like a pretty big emotional burden to place on someone who was practically a stranger. Hell, it was a lot of emotional burden on the people she loved most in life.

Finally she looked up at him. “I haven’t told anyone beside my family and best friend. Oh, and my therapist.”

“You really don’t have to tell me, Sia.”

“I know. But my therapist says it’s healthy to discuss it with people I trust. And for some inexplicable reason, you seem like a pretty trustworthy person, Mitchell.”

“I’m unsuspecting like that,” he joked.

Sia laughed a little. “C’mon. Close the door behind yeh. Think I’m ready to talk about it a little.”

#Harry Styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles writing #the long road home #tlrh

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raccoon-wizard · 5 years

Text

Proud & Safe

Whoever you are and whoever you love, know that you deserve happiness and safety and love much like the other person does. Love and peace to all human beings <3

Prompt: imagine Loki feeling female one day and shape shifting accordingly. Someone makes a mention of how you, his girlfriend, would react to her "current state", eventually leading her to feel a little insecure about whether or not you'll accept this side of her.

From @imagine-loki :)

DISCLAIMER: I am not genderfluid myself, so it is possible that my depiction is not entirely correct. If you happen to see some inaccuracies, please let me know and I shall correct them.

Characters: Loki, the Avengers, you

Type: Fluff

Warnings: Language and sexual implications.

Notes: I am well aware that Pride Month is almost over, but ours isn’t until August, which I have no idea why. Anyway. Whoever you are and whoever you love, know that you deserve happiness and safety and love much like the other person does. Love and peace to all human beings <3

When Loki woke up that morning, he wasn’t feeling… well, he. That day, Loki’s mind saw the world as a woman. Making sure to make the body’s appearance match the mindset, she shapeshifted accordingly. Looking at her entire figure in the mirror, she realised she didn’t own any women’s clothes, and the men’s ones just didn’t fit her. She rummaged through her closet and found a dress that Y/N must have left behind. She sighed and put it on, noticing that it actually fit her quite well, though it was a little shorter than it was probably meant to be. Smiling to herself, she left the bedroom and headed to the kitchen to make herself her everyday cup of tea.

As she was stirring sugar into her beverage, she heard footsteps near her.

“Damn, did Steve finally get laid?” Tony’s voice asked her. She turned around rapidly, murdering him with her glare. “Holy shit!” he gasped. “Reindeer Games?”

“Good morning to you too, Anthony,” she greeted him, folding her arms on her chest. “You were saying?”

“I… I’m sorry,” he stuttered. “What’s… why are you…”

“I’m a woman today,” she shrugged.

“Oh… okay,” he mumbled and began preparing his own breakfast in silence. “Does Y/N know?” he wondered after a few minutes.

“I haven’t seen her yet,” she explained.

“You sure she won’t freak out?” he raised his eyebrows. “I mean, you haven’t been together that long, but… you know, this is a kind of thing that be… problematic.”

“Is it?” she stopped dead in her tracks. She didn’t even consider that. Among gods, her condition was rare, yes, but accepted as a pretty normal thing. After all, they were ancient magical beings. It never came to her mind that humans could be less accepting.

“Yeah, I mean…” Tony sighed. “It depends on the person really, but there’s many people who struggle because of this kind of thing. Ever heard of the Pride?”

Tony spent the morning explaining human’s relationship with gender and orientation. He showed her many clips of these Pride Parades, which seemed to be celebrating the rarities such as herself. But he also showed her what people did when they disagreed. When they saw differently gendered people as monsters, nature’s flaws, freaks. She nearly broke into tears when she read what some people were capable of. It made her wonder whether Y/N would be understanding enough, the fear eating her alive.

As if on cue, a group walked into the kitchen, consisting of her brother, Captain Rogers, James Barnes, Samuel Wilson, and Y/N. They all went for a run each morning, insisting that a group jog was much more fun than a solo one.

“Good morning, sister!” Thor greeted her before she could do anything. Hide under the table perhaps. The rest of the group froze, Y/N included. She stared at her, her mouth hanging open slightly, the shock in her eyes slowly changing into pure anger. Loki’s throat tightened and she turned away, staring into her cup.

“Why the fork does my dress look so much better on you than it ever has on me?” she asked.

She turned back, tears in her eyes, confused. “What?”

“You look absolutely amazing!” she exclaimed. “That’s my favourite dress, I thought no one could ever wear it better! Rude!”

“Maybe ‘cause his… her legs are kinda longer,” Sam suggested.

“Hey!” Y/N’s head whipped around. “That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about, asshole.”

Y/N’s words made Loki’s heart flutter and a smile creep up her face. She watched as Sam tried to defend himself, rambling hopelessly. She caught Y/N’s eye and smiled even wider. Y/N dismissed Sam and walked over to her, grinning.

“So, girlfriend,” Y/N whispered softly. “Were you ever going to tell me about this, or was I supposed to find out like this?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realise that you Midgardians don’t… that it’s not considered normal here,” Loki tried to explain herself. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Offend me?” Y/N frowned. “Why should it offend me?”

“I… Stark showed me some… videos of what people sometimes think about… people like me,” she stuttered. “And what they do.”

“Babe,” Y/N sighed and gently cupped Loki’s cheeks. “Yeah, there are people like that. And they suck. But me and the rest of this team, we would never, never, hurt you, do you hear me?” she asked gently, putting a strand of hair behind Loki’s ear. “Not in a million years. You’re safe with us. With me.”

A tear slipped down Loki’s cheek as she blinked. “And it wouldn’t… change what we are?”

“Of course not, darling,” Y/N smiled. “You think I was with you this whole time just for that dick?”

Loki chuckled, blush coming up her cheeks.

“That would be pretty shallow of me, wouldn’t it?” she continued. “I mean, it was a pretty impressive bonus, but…” Loki laughed out loud this time, the rest of the tears falling down. “You know, it wasn’t the point.”

There was now a genuine smile on Loki’s lips.

“That’s much better, isn’t it?” Y/N asked, leaning in to kiss her tenderly, noting how much softer her lips felt now.

The rest of the people were still in the kitchen as well, politely trying to ignore them, but failing for the most part. When the couple noticed their barely masked side glances, Y/N smirked.

“Darling, how about we get out of here and go shopping?” she suggested. “As much as I adore that dress on you, you need your own clothes.”

“That sounds like fun,” Loki nodded. Y/N grinned widely and grabbing Loki’s hand, they ran out of the kitchen towards Y/N’s room. “I need to take a shower first, I stink,” she explained and disappeared into the bathroom. Loki sat on Y/N’s bed and waited, listening to the sound of her singing from the shower and smiling. A massive weight was lifted off of her chest, her heart swelling with relief and happiness.

She looked around the room - she knew it well, she had spent many nights there before, just as many as Y/N had spent in her room, but through woman’s eyes, she saw it differently. She noticed a little desk with a big mirror and make up sprawled all over it.

“Y/N?” she called.

“Yes, babe?” Y/N responded after turning the water off.

“Would you mind if I borrowed your make up?” she asked shyly.

“No, not at all, help yourself,” Y/N said. “I’ll be out in a moment, I just need to dry my hair.”

“Thank you,” Loki smiled to herself and sat down in front of the mirror.

She soon found out that it was much more complicated than she had anticipated. Mascara seemed to want to go everywhere but her eyelashes, the colours didn’t suit her and she nearly stabbed her eye out with eyeliner. And not to mention the disaster that the lipstick caused.

“You’re hopeless, aren’t you?” she heard Y/N’s voice from behind her. Their eyes met in the mirror and she could see how hard she was trying to fight back a smirk.

“I… I’ve never tried using these before, I just thought I’d wing it,” she explained, looking down at her hands with smears of different colours.

“Would be much simpler if it were like that, wouldn’t it,” Y/N chuckled and pulled a chair next to her. “Here, let me,” she mumbled, grabbing a bottle of make up remover and a few cotton balls. She gently rubbed Loki’s failed attempt away before starting over.

“You’re a lot paler than me, that’s why the colours don’t quite fit,” she explained. “It’s not like you really need make up when your skin is that flawless anyway. We can get you your own if you’d like though.”

Loki didn’t say a word, worried that if she moved even in the slightest, she would ruin Y/N’s work. She felt her fingers grazing her skin and different brushes move around and enjoyed the sensations.

“Ta-da!” Y/N grinned. “What do you think?”

Loki opened her eyes and looked at herself in the mirror. It was definitely better than what she had attempted first - the mascara was where it belonged, the eyeliner was perfectly straight and the lipstick that Y/N had chosen fit her much better.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I… I feel beautiful now.”

“You shouldn’t need make up for that, babe, you are gorgeous,” Y/N smiled, lightly pecking her lips, careful not to smear the lipstick. “Like seriously. You’re just… wow. That’s perfection right there.”

“Do you really think so?” Loki wondered.

“Of course, hot stuff,” she insisted. “You have everything a girl could want regarding looks. I’m not sure if I want to bang you or be you.”

Loki blushed for the second time that day. “Sh-shall we go then?” she stuttered.

“Sure,” Y/N nodded.

They went to the mall together, spending the entire day just wandering around, trying on clothes that they deemed nice. Y/N was swooning over Loki the whole time, which made her feel a lot better about the whole situation. The adoration in her eyes was something she was not used to.

They even went to a lingerie store, a place that she had never thought she would visit. They both got a few things for themselves, helping the other one pick the best looking ones.

"By the way," Y/N said from the changing room. "Do you prefer a different name in this form or is calling you Loki still fine?"

"No, Loki is fine," she replied while checking herself in the mirror.

"Great," Y/N grinned. "Didn't wanna be saying a wrong name tonight."

"Heaven's sake, Y/N," Loki rolled her eyes, but there was a playful smile on her lips.

"Oh, that sounds lovely," Y/N continued flirtatiously. "Remember that for me please. I want to put these pretty little things to use as soon as possible if that's okay with you."

"Absolutely, darling," Loki chuckled.

And truthfully, that night, Loki's name echoed from her bedroom walls, along with whispered profanities and Heaven's sake, Y/N.

A few months later, Loki, this time in his male form, took Y/N for a walk around the city. After all, it was a beautiful day; the sun was shining and there were only a few fluffy white clouds on the gorgeous blue sky. But it confused her significantly, seeing that he hated going out and he didn't really know the city. But whenever she tried to ask about it, he shushed her, smirking mischievously, which only made her curiosity rise.

"Come on, do you really think I'm buying the just a walk bullshit?" she tried again. "I'm not dumb. I mean, I am incredibly dumb, but not like this. What's going on, babe?"

"Well, we're almost there now, so I might as well tell you," he sighed in defeat.

"Almost where?" she frowned.

"Do you remember how Stark showed me what people did to people like me?" he asked.

"Of course I do," she nodded. "Oh! We're going to burn some asshole's house down, aren't we?"

"No, darling, although I would love to do that," he grinned. "No. But I decided that it's absolutely unacceptable. So I decided to help."

"How?" she wondered.

"With Stark's help, I bought a house," he began explaining. "And I turned it into a secret hideaway for those who find themselves in danger because of who they are and who they love. And no asshole can ever find it."

"So… how do the ones in need find it if it's so secret?" she questioned.

"Brilliant question, love," he smiled. "It is protected by magic. Only those who need it can find it. When they get, for example, kicked out of their home because of their identity, they will be drawn to the house without even realising. They will just sort of… wander in. And they will be safe until they are ready to leave. Or they don't have to. They can stay forever."

"But… there's so many queer people who need help, can they fit?"

"That's another great trick," he told her. "Strange helped me with that one. It is always big enough on the inside, no matter how small the outside might seem."

"You built a forkin' TARDIS and you didn't tell me?!" she gasped. "Okay. So it's big enough. But what if there's a gay kid in, like, Nevada? Can they get in too?"

"Absolutely," Loki nodded. "It actually transcends this reality in a way. The entrances are all over this world. I modelled it after Yggdrasil."

"Oh my God," she choked out. "You… you just singlehandedly saved the world."

"I wouldn't exactly use that phrase-"

"No, you did!" she insisted, throwing herself at him and squeezing him in a hug. "You took one of the biggest struggles of modern humanity and solved it just like that. You're the best person to ever walk the Earth and you're not even from the Earth."

"You haven't even seen the house yet, love," he laughed, kissing the top of her head. "Come on, we're almost there."

He led her through the suburbs of New York, full of rich people's homes. At the end of one street, she spotted a building that wouldn't be much different from the rest, save it for the gigantic rainbow flag hanging from the balcony.

"Are you sure The Straights will completely miss this place?" she asked. "This is pretty obvious to me."

"Don't worry, only those who are meant to see it will," he explained. "Every possible threat has been accounted for. This is the safest place on Earth."

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mandeebobandee · 6 years

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The (Dark) Knightmare Before Christmas

This is for @sanderssidescelebrations prompt #16, Couples Costumes. Hope you guys enjoy this one!

"Have you seen Virgil and Roman around yet?" Patton bounded up to his boyfriend, Logan, wearing a plush Winnie the Pooh costume with only his head visible.

Logan, much to his chagrin, wasn't faring much better. He still questioned to himself why he thought it was a good idea to allow Patton to choose their Halloween costumes this year, but Patton went all out on the cute factor.

Ugh.

...fine, seeing Patton happy and excited made it all worth it.

It did help that Patton suggested that Logan be Owl. Owl was always Logan's favorite character in Winnie the Pooh during the (exceedingly rare) occasions when he did watch the show as a child, and he was honestly flattered that Patton remembered him mentioning it as a brief conversation point a few weeks prior.

"No, I have seen no sign of Virgil or Logan. What was it that they were supposed to dress up as again?" Logan questioned Patton. Patton went over to the sign-up list where everyone listed their costumes for the couples costume contest that would be held at the end of the night.

Right below Logan Dicax and Patton Wright - Owl and Winnie the Pooh were Virgil Thompson and Roman Prince - Joker and Batman.

"I can't wait to see what they'll do with it! Oh look, there's one of them now! OVER HERE!" Patton called out, waving his hand high up in the air. Logan, in the meantime, gave a much more subdued half wave as Batman made his way over to them.

Patton squealed, clapping his hands together in delight. "You make such a good Batman, Roman!"

Logan shifted a little where he stood, supposing that he ought to pay Roman a compliment as well. "You do wear the suit well, I must admit," he acknowledged. A deep, raspy chuckle could be heard from beneath the suit, a chuckle fitting of the character being portrayed, yet oddly subdued for Roman.

"Where's Virgil, though?" Patton frowned. "I want to see what my dark strange son did for his costume! I bet it looks all ~scary. Oooooooooooh." Patton mimicked ghost noises.

"Patton, Virgil is eleven months younger than you are, that hardly qualifies him as your 'son'," Logan said in what might appear at first glance to be exasperation, but it was hard to miss the fond look in Logan's eyes as he could hardly take his eyes off of his boyfriend.

"Why so serious?" a voice said from behind Logan, causing him to jolt and nearly go flying into Patton. There the Joker stood, in all of his green-haired, white-faced, red-lipsticked glory. He let out a cackle more than just vaguely reminiscent of Mark Hamill's Joker in Batman The Animated Series. Logan nearly forgot that he was standing face to face with Virgil and not the Joker himself.

"You look amazing, kiddo!" Patton smiled. "And you did a great job with the makeup! I guess I shouldn't be surprised, what with all of that cool eyeliner you usually wear!" The Joker grinned mischievously at that, and Logan frowned in confusion. Why did he get the feeling that he was missing something? And why did Virgil's voice sound so different?

"You think we should tell 'em, Bats?" The Joker asked, smirking at Batman. Batman, much to Patton and Logan's surprise...nodded? He then proceeded to remove his mask.

If the purple hair and dark eyeliner didn't give it away, the bangs would have.

It was definitely not Roman under that mask. Which meant...

Logan and Patton's wide-eyed gaze shifted back to Roman, who threw his hands out wide as if stepping out in front of a large crowd. "SURPRISE!"

As Virgil, Roman, Logan, and Patton got to talking, Logan reached the realization that Virgil and Roman's costume choices made sense. While one might pin Virgil down as preferring a more villainous look based on mere aesthetics and for Roman to go with a more heroic look, he did have to admit that these choices matched their personalities better.

Batman was a hero, yes, but he was a gritty, no-nonsense sort of hero who often kept to himself and kept his face hidden with a mask. Perfect for Virgil, who wasn't a fan of parties and preferred to hide himself away when he could. The mask was perfect for him, as it prevented others from seeing his face and thus recognizing him.

Joker, on the other hand, was a theatrical villain - Perfect for Roman, a major extrovert who loved attention and theater. He seemed to relish in the roll, and it allowed him the chance to shine and show his range in a way that dressing as Batman would have never allowed him to.

"Well, what do you think?" Virgil asked warily, slipping the mask back on before he could get too many stares.

Patton beamed. "I absolutely love it!"

It was really no surprise to Logan when the couple won the Best Couples' Costume of the night. The bigger surprise came from the fact that he and Patton were runners-up.

The night was sure full of surprises, wasn't it?

#prinxiety #logicality

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belphegor1982 · 5 years

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Got tagged by @kikabennet!

when did you last sing to yourself?

Yesterday, since I’ve currently been awake for an hour and a half. Might have been either “Bonnie Portmore” or “Here’s a Health (To The Company)”. I’ve been putting a lot of shanties and pirates/sailing-related films soundtracks on to draw to (and hopefully write to) lately. (EDIT: Ooops - yep, wrote that yesterday around 11AM, so make that this afternoon; I hummed while I drew along with the first 3 Pirates of the Caribbean soundtracks. It’s so darn hummable.)

if a crystal ball could tell you the truth about anything, what would you want to know?

Who was the Man in the Iron Mask!? (I know better than to ask personal/family truths :S Besides, I’m curious.)

(putting the rest under a cut...)

what is the greatest accomplishment of your life?

Being able to speak (mostly) and read/write English fluently.

what is the first happy memory that comes to mind, recent or otherwise?

When my mum was in the hospital with my newborn baby sister, my dad would take me see them, and before that we’d stop for ice cream and a ride on the merry-go-round. That’s what comes to mind when I read “first happy memory”.

if you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living?

I’d go see my family and friends who live far away a lot more, and eat a lot more of my favourite things.

do you have a bucket list? if so, what are the top three things?

I don’t, really ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

describe a person close to your life in detail

The Best Beloved is tallish (1,77m - that’s… 5′10?), with dark brown hair, green eyes, skin that tans easily even in winter, and glasses. …and that’s as much detail as I’m comfortable putting.

do you feel you had a happy childhood?

On the whole, yes. Could’ve done without the bullying at school and the undermining of self-confidence at home, though.

when did you last cry in front of another person?

Don’t remember, so it must be at least a fortnight.

pick a person to stargaze with you and explain why you picked them

My dad, who used to sail with a compass. I don’t think he knows much about constellations, but he’s always willing to share memories, even if sometimes he doesn’t remember he’s told them multiple times.

would you ever have a deep conversation with a stranger and open up to them?

Probably. I shouldn’t, though. Strangers being by definition strangers, you never know where that information is going and how it might be used (possibly against you).

when was your last 3am conversation with someone, and who were they to you?

We both were tired and ended up going to bed around half past midnight, so no 3AM conversation, but my friend Sandrine last week.

if you were about to die, and you could only say one more sentence to one person, what would you say and to whom?

…I have no idea? I think I’d concentrate really hard on not dying :S

what is your opinion on brown eyes?

Why would it matter tho I have brown eyes and for the longest time I thought they were boring. It doesn’t help that brown hair and eyes are basically the default where I grew up/live. Then I grew up and moved on.

pick a quote and describe what it means to you personally

George Bernard Shaw’s “Life does not cease to be funny when people die any more than it ceases to be serious when people laugh.” Life is complicated, all about balance between extremes and absolutes. Don’t trust people who tell you the world is grim and serious just because they are. And while getting the giggles at a funeral/wake is inappropriate, it doesn’t mean you’re heartless.

what would you title the autobiography of your life so far?

Wait, What

what would you do with one billion dollars?

I’d keep half a dozen millions for me (car and house debts), my family and my friends, and give the rest to social services, healthcare, and public services in general.

are you a very forgiving person? do you like being this way?

Ehhh… It’s complicated. I tend to hold grudges when I can remember why, but I rarely do something about it. On the whole I’m pretty “live and let live”.

would you describe yourself as more punk or pastel?

Neither, really. I’m too soft for punk, but pastel’s not really my thing either.

how do you feel about tattoos and piercings? explain

I’m too much of a wuss to even consider getting either, but they look great on other people. When I get a spot on my tongue I wonder how people with a tongue piercing manage to keep it, though. It’s very distracting.

do you wear a lot of makeup? why/why not?

As a rule, no, but if I work or if I’m invited somewhere I’ll throw on a bit of eyeliner and lipstick. (I should raid my makeup drawer, really, some of my lipstick cases are almost 20 years old and you should NOT do that.)

talk about a song/band/lyric that has affected your life in some way

In high school I saw a psychologist (junior high was NOT a happy time and the bad stuff just overflowed at one point) and went to an outpatient clinic every Wednesday. They had lots of activities, like painting on silk, various art stuff, and a band, and I loved that band. I was one of the only ones who’d request songs to sing in English. The guitarist introduced me to the Beatles’ “Something”, which I didn’t know, and to this day when I hear this lovely song I think of that guy who had a great smile, a great sense of humour and a great moustache (think George Harrison on Let It Be) who helped me get better.

list the concerts you have been to and talk about how they make you feel

Not to brag, but back in my uni days I did go to a number of them - K’s Choice, Coldplay, King Khan And His Shrines, M, Tom McRae are among the ones I remember. And a couple months ago I went to a rock concert with three bands one after the other. I love live music, it feels amazing. It courses through my body, makes me grin like a maniac, and want to jump and flail around just to vent the excess energy. And all this without a single drop of beer! (can’t stand the stuff :P)

who in the world would you most like to receive a letter from and what would you want it to say?

I’d love a letter from the national loto that says “here’s a giant check even though you haven’t scratched a ticket in years” :P More seriously, I LOVE receiving letters from my Internet friends.

do you have a desk/workspace and how is it organised/not organised?

I don’t really have a workspace. I have a desk, which has the desktop screen, keyboard, mouse/graphic tablet, and a whole lot of mess of papers, pens, boxes, and stuff. I can use either that desk or my laptop in my armchair.

what is your night time routine?

Finish watching the movie/tv show, look at Tumblr a bit (and/or stuff on the laptop, like TV Tropes), go to bed, read a bit on my Kindle, kiss the Best Beloved good night, switch off the lights, and try to sleep.

what’s one thing you don’t want your parents to know?

Anything about my intimate life, thanks.

if you had to dye your hair how would you dye/style it and why?

I experimented a bit with henna back in the day, but generally I just have haircuts (I have too little hair to risk harming it). I’d like some reddish highlights one day, though.

pick five people to go on an excursion with you. who would you pick and where would you go/what would you do?

Eehhh... I’d rather stay at home and chill :P Okay, I’d take the Best Beloved and my friends Melody, Nico, Sandrine, and Aldric, and head to Marquèze. (wish their website had an English version, it’d be better.) It’s an ecomuseum about local life in the early 1800s/early 1900s, with preserved traditional houses and people showing skills like dyeing fabric, shepherding, making flour (there’s a watermill) and all sorts of cakes and bread and snacks, and an entire day isn’t too much to visit everything.

name three wishes and why you wish for them

I wish:

I had a decently-paying job from home,

my friend Sandrine’s mum were/will be all right (don’t ask),

we had the house extension built already

what is the best halloween costume you have ever put together? if none, make one up

We didn’t have Halloween when I was growing up, it really only started to be a thing in earnest a decade or two ago. Although... One time when we lived in Bordeaux, the Best Beloved and I were invited to a housewarming party on Halloween, so people would wear costumes. I went as a witch, with a long black skirt, long-sleeve thing with black lace (-ish), long black and white wig, and of course black lipstick and lots of black around the eyes. The Best Beloved had made a cloak, a scythe of sorts with cardboard and foil, and had a scary death head mask on. We didn’t have a car and the friend lived in Saint-Médard (which is relevant), so we had to ask around the bus drivers for which bus went there.

So picture the two of us dressed as we were, mask and all, well after dark, asking around for the “S&M” bus. Yep :P (People stared at us during the ride, and unlike the Best Beloved, I didn’t have the luxury of a mask to hide my laughter...)

what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done while drunk or high?

The only time I got slightly tipsy I went a little pink and apparently talked a little louder than usual. I’ve never got drunk (too afraid of stomachache later) or high (it took my mum two heart attacks to quit smoking and I’m wondering if she hasn’t taken it up again, I can’t hold a cigarette, tobacco or otherwise).

what’s one thing you would never do for one million dollars?

Hurt people, probably. If I wouldn’t do it for ten dollars I wouldn’t do it for a million - if you agree to one or the other the rest is just haggling over price.

if you’re a boy, would you ever rock black nail polish? if you’re a girl, would you ever rock really really short hair?

I don’t think I have the right face shape for that - my face is too round, longer hair suits me better.

what’s your starbucks order, and who would you trust to order for you, if anyone?

I live 126 km (78 miles) from the nearest Starbucks, when I walk by one the queue is huge, and the prices are well beyond my range :> But I’d trust the Best Beloved. He’d still ask me, though.

what is the most important thing to you in your life right now?

Being happy and/or stress-free. Also the oncoming Papa Bear Awards nominations in a week and the Eurovision Song Context coming up in May :D

Tagging @radarsteddybear, @rose-of-pollux, @truxi-twice, @myrling-art, @iorvethscommando, and @toooldforthisbutstill! :o)

#about me

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hellomissmabel · 6 years

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Exotic part 2

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Bucky x siren!reader, Steve x siren!reader and Tony x siren!reader

Warnings: Talk of rape and mentions of a suicide attempt

Word count: 3k

Summary: When you get to Wakanda, things take an interesting turn.

A/N: CLEANING UP MY GENERAL TAG LIST. IF YOU ARE ON THIS LIST AND WANT TO STAY ON THIS LIST, SEND ME AN ASK. IF YOU WANT ON THIS LIST ALSO SEND ME AN ASK. You can still get tagged in Exotic too but I accept asks only.

Series masterlist can be found here

Link to the dresses (skip this part if you wanna read the fic straightaway)

Reader’s dress:

Raegan’s dress:

Nakia’s dress:

The fic continues here...

The king is waiting for us at the Heli carrier platform, dressed in a smart, tailored black suit. His dark brown eyes follow your every move as soon as you exit the plane with Steve hot on your heels. You haven’t spoken a word to one another every since he confronted you about Bucky.

Approaching T’Challa with a steady gait, you stop right in front of the king with a tight-lipped smile and an extended hand. Aware that this gesture might be considered bold and too forward for a guest of the king of Wakanda, but honestly you couldn’t care less. All you cared about now was Bucky.

“Miss Y/L/N,” the king addresses you in a polite tone, his eyes just as sharp as the blade you carry underneath your tactical gear.

He shakes your hand firmly before turning his attention to the blond standing next to you. “Captain Rogers.”

Steve nods and shakes his hand as well, his broad shoulders towering of you as he rest his palm on the small of your back. “Follow after me, please,” T’Challa bids courteously as he shows you towards the main living room. There are three glasses of water and four glasses of champagne waiting for you on a table and you raise an eyebrow at the fourth glass of champagne.

Following your eyes, the king smirks a little at your puzzled expression but doesn’t address the matter. He prefers to leave you pondering for a little longer. “I hope you had a pleasant flight.”

Inwardly, you roll your eyes at his attempt at small talk, accepting a glass of water from Steve as he finishes his own. The king takes the third glass of water and raises it slightly. “To my friends, Captain Rogers and Agent Y/L/N.”

“Doesn’t champagne fit much better with a toast?,” you question T’Challa as he sips from his glass of water.

“You are absolutely right. My apologies, but I thought you must be very thirsty from your travels,” is his simple reply.

Steve feels the mood has shifted and the tension is almost palpable. “So,” he decided to break the uncomfortable silence, “T’Challa, would you be so kind as to inform us on the progress regarding Bucky’s awakening?”

“Of course,” he king nods as he puts down his glass and a gorgeous dark-skinned woman enters the room, carrying herself in the same regal manner as T’Challa. “Meet Nakia, my trustee. She is also a member of the Dora Milaje.”

The name rings a bell and you recall the all-female special forces of Wakanda that also serve as bodyguards to the king. It does not surprise you that Nakia is a part of them as the air radiating off her is a true symbol of strength.

Nakia hands T’Challa a folder that contains all the relevant information on Bucky and his recovery. Turning it over to Steve, he scans the pages and agrees to go ahead with the plan. You feel a little hurt that you’re being left out but keep you head held high, even when Nakia gives you a condescending look.

As if sensing you are displeased with the current events, T’Challa excuses Nakia and passes on a glass of champagne to both you and Steve before taking one for himself. “Let’s keep the business for later. Let us now focus on pleasure first. I am hosting an intimate dinner this evening and I would like to invite you, Captain Rogers, and you, Agent Y/L/N for these humble festivities. Once Sergeant Barnes awakens, he will no longer be chained to the trigger words Hydra enslaved him with.”

The blonde shoot T’Challa a gratuitous smile, pleased to hear the lies T’Challa is feeding him, although not on purpose. Both men are ignorant of the true extent of which Bucky was turned into the Winter Soldier, and you’re here to make sure that they don’t fuck up and forever send Bucky spiralling down the black hole Hydra kicked him in.

Someone coughs at the other end of the room, and a white-haired woman appears at T’Challa’s side. Instantly you recognise her frail frame and delicate eyes. But much unlike before, she is wearing a subtle, soft pink lip stain and winger eyeliner, a loose fitting blue dress with a choker and moderately high heels in the same colour as her dress. She looks nourished and well taken care off.

At first, she only acknowledges you, casting her eyes downwards when Steve takes a step forward to introduce himself to her. But instead she takes a step away from him and closer to me, smiling timidly as she recognises me too.

“Raegan,” I whisper her name very softly, “Raegan, meet Steve Rogers. He’s Bucky’s best friend.”

The woman fails to look at Steve when she shakes his hand but once she does, his breath gets caught in his throat. Never would you have pegged Steve for the kind of guy to fall for a woman like Raegan. But then again, Steve’s got a major saviour complex and Raegan seems like the type that needs saving, even if it is from an organisation that is no more.

“Steve Rogers, ma’am,” he mumbles a little clumsily and it prompts a smile from Raegan’s lips.

“Nice to me you, Steve,” she says all too sweetly, pursing her lips in a tender smile as she gazes over at you from the corner of her eye.

T’Challa hands her the fourth glass of champagne and she thanks him kindly, her voice having grown a little stronger now she’s managed to charm Steve. Seducing Steve isn’t part of the agreement and you’ll have to give her a stern talking-to when you finally get her alone.

“Miss Raegan here has been so kind as to help us identify the inner workings of Hydra.”

“I’m sure she did,” you coo just as amiably as Raegan spoke to Steve earlier.

Your change in tenor rings an alarm bell in the king’s mind and he gently puts down his glass of champagne, intending to show you your rooms instead and offering you his arm to take. With a cautious smile, you accept the king’s arm.

Steve is engaged in a light conversation with Raegan as you she guides him towards his room as well, following a couple metres behind you and T’Challa. When they’re out of earshot, the king leans in and voices his suspicions. “I didn’t not expect you to get along smoothly with miss Raegan. I didn’t however not expect there to be some king of competition between the two of you.”

Facing the king, you grant him with an innocent grin. “It’s not a competition. It’s just a lack of trust.”

“We are here,” you can hear Raegan tell Steve, glancing over your shoulder at how she holds open the door for him to enter and then closes it behind her again, her gaze locking with yours as she smirks with a wink.

Turning back to T’Challa, he also stops when you have arrived at your room only a few doors removed from Steve’s. “Follow me,” you mumble under your breath as you enter the room and motion for the king to do so as well.

You pay no mind to the lovely yet modest interior of the room, warm colours like forest green and brown clay blending effortlessly with the jungle at the other end of the window. Immediately jumping head-first into the attack, you lean against the mahogany desk with your arms crossed over your chest. “Is Raegan your guest or your prisoner?”

“Neither,” T’Challa answers while sitting down on one of the chairs on the other end of the room. Somewhat surprised by his reply, your face does not fall instead your stern no-nonsense expression stays put like a mask. “Raegan will be incarcerated a few weeks from now.”

“What are the charges against her?”

“How much do you know about her extraction?,” T’Challa diverts your question with another one.

“Nothing. Steve never said anything about it and Tony keeps his files under lock and key.”

Humming in understanding, the king links his fingers and leans his elbows on the armrests before speaking in a steady, noble tone befitted of a king. “Before Steve brought Bucky to Wakanda, Bucky gave us the names of the last locations of Hydra, including army bases and test labs such as the one they kept you and Raegan. I sent my best soldier, Nakia, along with other SHIELD operatives. They found Raegan in a pool of her own blood. She had sliced her wrists.”

Swallowing thickly, you can feel your blood rush in your ears and your heart pump in your shaking fingertips, trembling with the memories of your own suicide attempts. “We nursed her back to health yet despite our best efforts, she was showing some very concerning behaviour, extending to her personality.”

With a sigh, the man locks eyes with you, piercing eyes burning straight to your soul. At a moment like this, you’re afraid he will see your soul for what it truly is, pitch-black. “I’m talking about dissociative personality disorder, Y/N.”

You’ve read enough books at the compound to know what it means, your bones popping as you stretch your muscles as if preparing for battle. A psychological battle nonetheless. “Raegan continues to be a point of concern here at the palace. She has her freedom but she also has her limitations. She will always be escorted wherever she goes. She will never be left unattended, as are my orders.”

“Good,” you say with a strained voice, “Is there anything else I should know about?”

Pursing his lips in thought, T’Challa oversees the possibilities in his mind, weighing the pros and cons of your presence here in Wakanda and the information warranted for the safety of his people and that of his friends. “Yes,” he concludes after a heartbeat of silence. “You might find it difficult to… connect with Bucky once he wakes up.”

Knitting your eyebrows together in confusion, you tilt your head to the side as you gaze intently at the king. “How so?”

“You were the siren that kept him under control,” T’Challa continues as his eyes wander to the clock, noting that it is almost time to join the others for dinner. “He projected all his carnal needs on you to a point where you weren’t just an object of his desires but an actual subject. He grew fond of you. The Soldat grew fond of you and that is why he saved you. But the Soldat is not Bucky, and Bucky does not know you. Bucky knows Raegan, or rather, he knows the other girl inside of Raegan.”

The vase next to on the desk collapses into a million shards on the floor, your hand having flown to push it aside in a fit of rage. T’Challa is caught of guard by your unexpected outburst, the anger clearly visible in your troubled eyes. “How is this possible?!,” you exclaim in a fit of rage, rolling in thick waves off you.

Standing up from his seat and walking towards you as he keeps a calm composure, T’Challa rests a hand on your shoulder, his comforting presence halting your erratic actions. “Raegan, or should I say, Aria, will be attending dinner as well. I advise you to take a long, hot shower to collect your thoughts and reflect on your feelings. The girl you used to know is no longer. The man you used to know is no longer. But you are still the same woman, and so it is up to you to decide how to handle the situation.”

Squeezing your shoulder once, he exits the room and leaves a heaviness hovering over your head like the sword of Damocles. Nevertheless, you do as the king suggested and take a shower and inspect the closet for an appropriate attire for such a formal event. There you find a showstopper of a dress with a kind note attached to the clothes’ hanger in elegant handwriting.

“Compliments of your ally, the king.” It reads ally and not friend, leading to assume that a common enemy has made you allies after all.

Steve softly knocks your door, intending to escort you to dinner and stealing a moment of your time to talk things through. He feels he should at least apologise for being so rude to you yet he is fully aware that you’re not one to dwell on the past. When you first started the process of rehabilitation, Steve was the shoulder you’d lean on when the memories would haunt you at night and the cuts and bruises would bleed again.

But along the way he found you were distancing yourself more and more from him. In the beginning he blamed Tony’s advances for the subtle change in proximity even though you still recoiled from every touch no matter if it was Steve or Tony that was reaching out to you. No, there must be something else that drove you away from him.

All Steve ever meant for you was friendship, to make you stronger and make sure you could defend yourself should something bad happen to you once more. But you were just fine with being left to your own devices, seeking the solace of science with Bruce rather than sparring with the super soldier. Little did Steve know that you were pushing him away for his own good, just like you plan to pull him away from Raegan’s clutches for his own protection.

“Wow,” the blond exhales sharply upon seeing you in your gown. He cleaned up nicely as well, with a black bowtie and his hair combed back neatly. “You’re stunning, Y/N.”

As you retrace your steps back to the main room where everyone is already waiting for T’Challa’s honoured guests, Steve seizes the opportunity to hug you close and tuck you against his chest. “I didn’t mean to offend you, Y/N.”

With the other guests in your line of sight, you attempt to smile as warmly as possible while the ice courses through your veins, making it hard for you to stay genuine. “You didn’t offend me, Steve. You simply forgot I am an agent as much as I am your friend.”

When you reach the others, you notice Nakia is there as well in a beautifully satin blue dress with a flowery print. Next to her is Raegan in a silver top and a glittery black skirt that graciously cascades down her long legs. You feel a pang of jealousy when Steve’s grip on your waist loosens momentarily as his eyes fall on her.

“Dinner will be served shortly,” the king announces royally, the doors to the dining room opening promptly. The seats are assigned and you are seated right next to the king on your left and Steve on your right, across from Nakia and a woman you haven’t seen before. T’Challa introduces her as his mother, Ramonda.

“My son tells me you have a remarkable singing voice.” The queen addresses you with this statement before you have the opportunity to formally introduce yourself. “Would you like to sing a little for me?”

If conversation hasn’t run dry already, it sure has come to a stop now. Your throat suddenly feels sore, as if you’ve just devoured an entire plate of rusted nails. “I’m afraid you’ve been misinformed, your highness. I cannot sing, not anymore. A few years ago I was operated on my vocal chords and I haven’t sung since.”

If she is even the slightest bit disappointed by your answer, the queen does not show it to you, instead choosing to resume her conversation with Nakia. But she is soon interrupted by her son who clears his throat, the room immediately falling silent again. “Yet you sang to Captain Rogers on his birthday, did you not, miss Y/N?”

“Indeed she did,” Steve jumps to your defence, “And I can confirm she has the voice of an angel. Unfortunately she was hoarse for weeks afterwards.”

Glancing over at Steve, you throw him a grateful look and it seems the matter has been put to bed, until Raegan’s saccharine voice fills your ears. “Regardless,” she pipes up with a most sincere smile, “It would be rude not to sing for the queen if she has requested you to, would it not?”

All eyes are on you, Raegan’s challenging remark leaving you with no other option but to sing. “You are quite right, Raegan,” you chuckle softly while telling T’challa and Steve it’s okay. “This is a song I believe you will know as well. It’s called ‘the hanging tree’.”

You inhale deeply, starting off with a quivering voice as you recall the first verse. Yet by the time you are singing the third verse, it is with a calm and confidence, mesmerizing to the ears of everyone present.

“Are you, are you Coming to the tree They strung up a man They say who murdered three Strange things did happen here No stranger would it be If we met at midnight In the hanging tree

Are you, are you Coming to the tree Where dead man called out For his love to flee Strange things did happen here No stranger would it be If we met at midnight In the hanging tree

Are you, are you Coming to the tree Where I told you to run So we'd both be free Strange things did happen here No stranger would it be If we met at midnight In the hanging tree

Are you, are you Coming to the tree Wear a necklace of hope Side by side with me Strange things did happen here No stranger would it be If we met at midnight In the hanging tree”

It isn’t long before you’ve uttered those last sentence before Raegan lunges herself over the table and her hands wrap around your throat. It takes both Steve, T’Challa, Nakia and a couple guards to tear her away from you. But the woman that attacked you isn’t Raegan, your song having triggered the siren inside of her.

Tagging: @melconnor2007 @learisa @mrshopkirk @dont-speak-just-read @buckyappreciationsociety @beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep @lovemarvelousfics @pleasantdreamqueen @petersunderroos @movingonto-betterthings @palaiasaurus64 @ssweet-empowerment @lovemarvelousfics @rrwilson66 @reniescarlett @killmongrer @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @barnes-heaven @abovethesmokestacks @marvelrevival @marvel-fanfiction @justanotherbuckydevotee @promarvelfangirl @heartmade-writingbucky @buckyywiththegoodhair @captnbarnesrogers @a-little-hell-to-raise @knittingknerdy @winterboobaer @viollettes @feelmyroarrrr @justareader @howlingbarnes @themcuhasruinedme @buchananbarnestrash @hollycornish @delicatecapnerd @yourenotrogers @tomhollandzs @aletheladyinred @xbergiex @capbuckybuchanan @pegasusdragontiger @salty-holographic-stickers @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @autijahnerd13s-blahg @sophiealiice @sarahmatthews7 @lumelgy @kudosia @daringtodreamawake @always-an-evans-addict @thegreentgirl @yourtropegirl @4theluvofall @curvybihufflepuff @caplansteverogers @amrita31199 @movingonto-betterthings @breezy1415 @isnt-the-blog-youre-looking-for @pineapplebooboo @thefridgeismybestie @supernatural508 @supernaturaldean67 @cant-decide-at-this-moment @mehrmonga @specs15 @kanupps06 @imnotinsanehunny @sarahgracej @jasura @nerdyandproud9 @geeksareunique @jesspfly @badassbaker @whenallsaidanddone @jurassicbarnes @suz-123

Series tag list: @incoherent-smiles-deactivated @persephone-is-here-omg @thebookisbtr @just-another-teen01 @grande-and-thediamonds @mizzzpink @missinstantgratification @kyaracrazy @lastfallenstar @satanwithoutstyle @se-fucking-hun @solsticestorm

#exotic #bucky x reader #steve x reader #wakanda #black panther #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fan fiction #sebastian stan #chris evans #steve roger #steve rogers fan fiction #t'challa #siren!reader #marvel #marvel fan fic #marvel fan fiction #fan fic #fan fiction #avengers

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heyktula · 6 years

Text

reconnaissance

So, it was my birthday the other week. And as a birthday present to me, I thought it would be nice to revisit the AU for Foxtrot, because it’s been a while since I’ve hung out with those particular disasters. So--please enjoy reconnaissance, a Foxtrot one-shot that gives another perspective on the epilogue of Foxtrot Uniform Charlie Kilo.

It contains (mild) spoilers for Foxtrot, but very little context for said spoilers, so it’s not gonna hurt you to read this if you haven’t read that.

Enjoy!

reconnaissance

(6k, pg-13, contains some drinking, some burlesque, and a pejorative use of the word ‘slut’, courtesy of our resident asshole ginger, who didn’t even lower himself to show up in person)

“Holy fuck, he’s way bigger than he looks in his archive footage.”

Phasma only briefly looks up from her phone. “No, he’s not. And he’s not that big.”

“To you, maybe.” Mitaka takes another drink of his beer, looks across the bar at the behemoth currently leaning against it. He’s buzzed, and he can hear it in the way the words fall off his tongue, loose and casual. “Look at the stage presence on that fucker. Everyone’s staring at him.”

“Everyone into men is staring at him,” Phasma corrects.

Mitaka looks over at her. She’s still staring at her phone, idly flicking through screens, and absolutely ignoring him. “You’re occasionally into men,” he says, a bit petulantly.

She raises her eyebrow at him without looking up. “I’m only into other people when I tire of giving myself orgasms.” She gestures vaguely toward the bar, red lacquered nails glinting briefly in the light. “I know what he looks like when he’s been fucked into a concrete floor, and I assure you, it’s not as attractive as you think.”

“My opinion may differ,” Mitaka mutters into his drink. He swigs the rest of it down, jerkily pushes his chair back. The room is spinning, a bit—but it’s just a bit, so it’s fine. The show hasn’t started yet; he has enough time to sober up if he feels like it. He balances himself with a hand on the back of his chair, closes his eyes for a moment to get his bearings.

When he opens his eyes, Phasma is watching him.

“I thought you were the responsible one tonight, Doph.”

“I am,” Mitaka says, pushing his empty drink to the edge of the table. “I left all our credit cards back at Citadel and paid for the rooms in advance.” He gestures vaguely in the last direction he saw his boyfriend heading. “Thanisson only has cash—he’ll burn himself out soon enough.”

“Unless he’s on a winning streak,” Phasma says. She drains her gin and tonic, and pushes her empty glass next to Mitaka’s. “You could get me another, while you’re up there.”

“I might,” Mitaka says. He pulls his cash out of his pocket and checks to make sure he still has his phone. Realizes, after a moment, that Phasma is looking rather pointedly at the wad of cash in his hand. He folds. “I will. Get you another, that is.”

“Thank you,” she says, extending her long legs out into the aisle and resuming tapping on her phone.

Mitaka debates not saying anything, but the beer’s loosened his tongue. “You’re going to give Hux a heart attack.”

She lifts one shoulder minutely, raises her phone and snaps a picture of Kylo Ren at the bar. “That’s the hope,” she says.

“This is a vacation,” Mitaka says, more to himself than to anyone. He scoops up the empties, and heads over to the bar. He’s off-duty. So is she. And he doesn’t need to interfere with whatever she’s doing just to protect Hux’s feelings.

It’s not like Hux has any.

Kylo Ren is still there when Mitaka approaches, sipping at a glass of something clear with a lime perched on the side of it. Mitaka considers saying something, but he’s too drunk to come up with anything even remotely intelligent, so he doesn’t bother opening his mouth. (It’s not like hey, so you’re a legend back at the Citadel, huh? or we heard Hux fucked you into the floor, how was that for you? are good openers for a conversation.) Anyway, Kylo Ren is much bigger than any of them had suspected—easily twice Mitaka’s weight, and towering over him even when he’s leaning up against the bar, so it’s probably in Mitaka’s best interests not to piss the guy off.

Up close, though—Kylo Ren is fucking gorgeous un-masked, even more so than the archive footage at the Knights had indicated. His eyeliner is sharp, winging out past his fake lashes, and he’s wearing deep purple eyeshadow with a gold cut crease and dark lipstick. His hair is effortlessly tousled and falling in waves around his face, longer now than it had been even in the earliest archive footage from his initial recruitment. He’s wearing tight jeans, worn at the crotch and with holes in the knees, and a black tank top cut low in front, exposing a broad muscular chest that’s glittering faintly in the light. There’s an unzipped hoodie slouching down his arms, not doing anything other than exposing his biceps.

Mitaka squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, and then opens them again, glad Kylo seems more engrossed in squeezing his lime into his drink than noticing that Mitaka’s been staring.

“What are you after?” asks the bartender. She’s small, ridiculously so, with thick glasses that dominate her features.

“Uh, another pint of that spiced craft beer, and then a gin and tonic for my friend.”

She stares at him for a moment through those ridiculously thick glasses. Mitaka holds firm—if he can hold firm while Armitage Hux screams at him, he’s not going to crumple under an old lady, even if he is halfway to plastered and she’s being very intense about it.

“I’ll find you a bartender,” she says finally, and she turns, gestures to someone at the other end of the bar.

Mitaka breathes a little easier once she’s turned away.

“Are you here for the show?”

Mitaka does jolt this time. The owner of the voice is remarkably close, the voice itself is remarkably deep, and—oh, fucking hell, of course it’s Kylo fucking Ren.

“Yes,” Mitaka says evenly, all the while trying to school his face so that he doesn’t look as though he nearly jumped out of his boots. “Yes, I am.”

“Ah,” Kylo says. He brings his fingers—nails cut short, filed neatly, a dark purple glitter gel that matches his eyeshadow—up to his straw, twirls it around in the glass for a moment. “It’s a good show,” he says. “You’ll enjoy it. First time at something like this?”

The nervous chuckle escapes before Mitaka can clamp down on it, because what the fuck is he going to say? Actually, I work with Armitage Hux—I believe you’ve met? “No,” he says instead. “I’ve seen burlesque before.”

In the light, Kylo’s lips aren’t the black Mitaka thought they were. They’re actually an ombre—near-black on the edges, fading to purple closer to the middle. The purple becomes obvious when Kylo raises the glass, purses his lips around the straw, and takes a drink. He lets go of the straw, and his lips move for a moment.

“What?” Mitaka says gracelessly, and then immediately frowns. Fucking hell, he’s not drunk enough to be this uncoordinated.

“I was asking where you were sitting,” Kylo says, amused.

“Over there,” Mitaka says, vaguely gesturing into the corner. It’s reasonably dark back there, and a good bit away from the stage.

“Pity,” Kylo says. He takes another drink, and then sets his empty glass back on the counter. “Best view in the house is gonna be those couple tables right front and center, so if I were you, I’d go cozy up to the blonde in the red dress.”

“I’ll consider it,” Mitaka says. His voice comes out steady, and he’s very proud of himself for that.

“I’ll cover this round, Maz,” Kylo says. “Put it on my birthday tab?”

“Your funeral,” the old lady responds. She sets a new round of drinks in front of Mitaka.

Kylo grins, and then snags the beer before Mitaka can pick it up. Takes a sip, and then sets the glass down at the bar. “Good choice,” he says, before turning and sauntering away. “Enjoy the show.”

His lipstick has left behind a dark purple print on the rim of Mitaka’s glass.

Mitaka sighs, picks up both drinks, and heads back to his table—which is front, center, and impossible to miss because Phasma is constitutionally incapable of going out somewhere without wearing something memorable.

Tonight, it’s a red dress.

“This is a public venue,” Phasma is saying when Mitaka walks up. She’s still looking at her phone, even though the dude standing right next to her is staring at her, arms crossed over his chest. “I’ll take whatever pictures I like.”

“I’m saying,” the guy says patiently. “That I’d like you, as a personal favour, to stop taking pictures of Ben.”

The guy looks remarkably familiar for some reason—curly hair, about Mitaka’s height, looks like he’s at least passingly acquainted with the gym—but Mitaka can’t quite place him. He’s definitely seen photos of him before, though, and recently. Within the last few months. The guy looks—

“Who the hell is Ben?” Phasma asks.

“Hey,” Mitaka says. “Brought your drink, Phas.” He sets the glasses down on the table.

The guy turns, and the reason he looks familiar suddenly clicks in Mitaka’s mind. “The lockscreen,” he says, feeling proud for finally figuring it out. “That’s where.”

The guy’s brow furrows. “What?”

“Nothing,” Mitaka says. “It’s just—I’ve seen a picture of you before, that’s all. You’re with the Resistance, aren’t you?”

The guy sighs, extends his hand. “Yeah. Poe Dameron.”

Mitaka shakes out of instinct rather than any actual desire to do it.

“He’s the boss of who takes pictures in public spaces,” Phasma says dryly. “You might want to hand over your phone for inspection.”

Dameron rolls his eyes. “Look, I really don’t need any more shit from you guys. I don’t know what the fuck Snoke is—”

“This has nothing to do with Snoke,” Mitaka and Phasma say in unison.

Dameron frowns. “You are still with the Knights, though? I mean, I don’t recognize you,” he says, gesturing at Mitaka. “But I do recognize you.” He attempts to level another glare at Phasma, but she remains nonplussed.

“We’re not here officially,” Mitaka says, summoning all the diplomacy he can muster. He’s hesitant to sit down, but then, he doesn’t really want Phasma standing up either, so with any luck, she’ll just stay on her phone, and Mitaka can just smooth this over before it gets ugly. “Snoke’s out of town—”

“I know,” Dameron says cryptically.

“—and there’s—there are—just a couple of us here tonight. Blowing off steam.” He cringes the minute the phrase exits his mouth, because fuck, does it ever sound stupid.

“Where’s the rest of you?” Dameron says suspiciously. “Did you bring that ginger—”

“Hell no,” Phasma says.

“It’s just the two of us,” Mitaka says, trying to sound calm. “And my boyfriend, gambling in the back room. Just the three of us.” He sighs, gives up, and sits down. “Hux doesn’t leave Citadel. He’s probably trying to kill himself rehearsing right now.”

“Maybe you’ll be lucky and he’ll succeed,” Dameron says.

“We could always hope,” Phasma says, still not looking up from her phone.

Dameron frowns a little at that. “It’s not like the show was—”

Mitaka surprises himself by interrupting, albeit more plaintively than what he’d intended. “Could we not? Talk about the show?”

“Oh, come now,” Phasma says, and her smile is all teeth. “It was such a lovely followup to Starkiller.”

“Could we not,” Mitaka repeats again. “Please, Phasma. We’re trying to have a day off.”

“And we’re all so very good at it,” Phasma says.

“Look,” Dameron says. “I just need to clarify this, alright? I don’t actually care about whatever internal drama is going on.” He runs his hand back through his hair. “You’re certain that you’re not trying to recruit him back into the Knights?”

Phasma snorts, actually sets her phone down and looks Dameron in the eye. “You think we want Kylo fucking Ren back? Can you imagine the shitshow that would be?”

“I need to sit down,” Mitaka murmurs. Even just the thought of it is making him woozy.

“He’s fucking good,” Dameron says defensively.

“You don’t need to tell us,” Mitaka says, pulling out his chair and sitting down heavily. “We’ve seen literally all of his archive footage—front, back, and sideways. Phasma uses it for training for our dancers, and we showed up tonight, at least in part, because we’d heard the Resistance was performing, and that implied that he would be performing too.” He tips his head toward the backroom. “And because my boyfriend likes to gamble.”

“Well, Maz’s is good for that,” Dameron allows. He hesitates a moment, and then seems to come to a decision. “Look,” he says. “I’m sorry about getting all aggro with you. I’ll make sure your next couple rounds are covered, alright? I just—I just wanted to make sure that Snoke wasn’t pulling some kind of bullshit again.”

“Not that we’re aware of,” Mitaka says. He takes a drink of his beer. The rim of the glass is weirdly sticky, and he regrets not checking it to make sure it was clean in advance of actually drinking. He runs his tongue along his bottom lip, looks down at his apparently filthy glass. The glass is clean—it’s Kylo’s lipstick that’s the problem. “To be honest, we’re hoping we can just wait Snoke out until he dies.”

“Or help him along,” Phasma mutters darkly.

“The contracts are that bad, huh?” Dameron asks.

Phasma looks down at her drink, and then back up at Dameron meaningfully. “I’ll need to be drunker than this to talk shop with you, pretty boy.”

“Noted,” Dameron says. “Next round, coming right up.”

“Thanks,” Mitaka says.

“Gotta ask, though,” Dameron continues, cocking an eyebrow at Mitaka. “The lockscreen picture. How the hell’ve you seen that?”

Mitaka grimaces.

“I’ll ask in a round or two,” Dameron says.

Mitaka nods, knowing that he’s not gonna say a goddamn fucking thing.

“Shit,” Mitaka says halfway through the show. “That’s one of ours.”

Phasma sets her empty glass down on the table, looks back up at the stage. “Fuck me, it’s Bastian. I thought he’d quit after Black Sun.”

“Apparently not,” Mitaka says. “Technique hasn’t slipped or anything.”

“Even with all the blacklight bullshit.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Mitaka says. He waits until Bastian’s number ends and the lights come back up, claps even though it’s drowned out by the Resistance group hollering, and then shoves his chair back. “Back shortly.”

By the time Mitaka returns, feeling no more sober than he felt when he had initially stood up, Dameron’s bought another round of drinks. Mitaka takes a deep drink from his immediately—he swears he can still taste Kylo’s lipstick on his mouth, and he’d be a fuck of a lot happier if that would stop happening. “Fuck, I’m wasted,” he says.

“Should have paced yourself,” Phasma replies, setting her phone back on her lap. “Moderation is—”

“Oh, like you would know a damn thing about moderation.”

“I’ll have you know I’m spacing my texts to Armitage out by exactly twenty three minutes.” She smirks. “I can just imagine how fucking furious he is right now.”

Mitaka frowns, brings out his phone anyways. Opens up his text messages, finds Hux’s name, and hesitates.

No, fuck it.

He goes back a screen, texts his boyfriend instead.

Mitaka: Assuming your phone is off.

Mitaka: Thinking of you.

Mitaka: Am reasonably drunk.

Mitaka flips his phone off again, looks back up at the stage. There’s an androgynous performer up there in pants and suspenders, blonde hair up in a short glittery mohawk, and lipstick a screaming bright blue. They’re currently sitting on a small stool—wait, no. Mitaka squints at the stage, because it seems ridiculous that they’re sitting on nothing, and also doing a stocking pull—but no, that’s correct, there’s definitely no chair there, and they’re just supporting their own weight with sheer muscle.

“Okay,” Phasma says. “That’s fantastic control.”

“Shit,” Mitaka breathes. “All this talent—and they’re performing here?”

“I don’t know what you could possibly dislike about this place,” Phasma says lightly. “It’s adorably trashy, and my shoes only get stuck to the occasional bit of floor.”

“I mean, the beer is great,” Mitaka says.

“Speaking of which,” Phasma says. She looks over to the tables where the Resistance dancers are, and holds her empty glass up in the air.

“You’re killing me, Phasma,” Mitaka groans.

“Buck up,” she says. “Still more show left, and you can’t tap out before Kylo fucking Ren performs.”

For a moment, Mitaka’s hopeful that there’s going to be something calmer. Maybe, like, a feather fan piece. A classic striptease. Something that involves long evening gowns and multiple glove reveals, saxophone and violin or maybe some classical piano. Something where he can just drink some water, relax, watch someone get naked—but no. There’s a juggling duo that’s so fast-paced that Mitaka can hardly follow the pins as they tumble, glowing and flashing about four different colours, through the air. It’s followed by a poi piece where the spinning is so fast the performer needs to duck so she doesn’t nail herself in the head with her own poi.

Mitaka pounds a glass of water while his heart is still racing from the poi piece, and somehow, finally, gets to the end of the beers that have continuously been showing up at his table. The next round that shows up is just two gin and tonics, and Mitaka opens his mouth to complain—and then closes his mouth again, because what would be the point? He’s verging on being uncomfortably drunk, and he really doesn’t want to be, because any minute now, Kylo Ren is going to take the stage—

The next piece is a contortion piece. The dancer is small, feminine, and not, under any circumstances, Kylo Ren.

Mitaka sighs, and goes to the bar for another water, trying to ignore the twinge from the headache that’s starting to creep in even though he’s still drunk.

“Well, well, well,” Phasma says.

Mitaka raises his head off his arms. “Hmm?”

She gestures toward the stage, takes an appreciative sip from her gin and tonic.

Mitaka looks.

Blinks.

Kylo Ren is.

Well.

He’s.

“I’m too drunk for this,” Mitaka murmurs.

“Hux is going to eat his own liver,” Phasma says, grinning. “He’s fucking gorgeous, look at him!”

And, holy shit, Phasma’s right—he fucking is. Tall and broad, sparkling in the light with his hair hanging long around his shoulders, spinning a staff in each hand like it isn’t even a thing. He’s hardly wearing anything—black pleather arm guards that cover his arms from elbows to wrists, coming to a point over the back of his hand, black shorts that look like they’ve been painted on his body, showing off his muscular thighs and round ass, fishnets, and—

“Ugh, dance sneakers?”

“I know,” Phasma says smugly. “I’m getting a picture when he comes over this way, Hux would murder him.”

“I might murder him,” Mitaka says.

Kylo’s over on stage left right now, idly spinning one staff in each hand, looking out at the crowd.

“That’s something different with his mouth,” Phasma says suddenly. “He doesn’t smile like that when he’s performing usually.”

Mitaka would roll his eyes—except that would mean he’d have to take his attention away from Kylo for a moment, and he finds that he doesn’t particularly want to do that.

The staves stop spinning, suddenly, and there’s a pause right before Kylo slams the butt end of each staff, one after the other, down on the stage. Another moment of silence, perfectly aligning to a gap in his music—at least Hux would appreciate the timing—and then the staves light up, brilliant LED rainbows that nearly blind Mitaka for a moment before his eyes adjust.

“Holy shit,” he breathes, because Kylo Ren has started spinning the staves again, and holy fuck, the lights are drawing circles and swirls into the air, the afterimages lingering in brilliant rainbow paths behind him. It’s like the poi piece from earlier—only more, so much more, because Kylo is huge, his stage presence as well as his physicality, and there’s something about the way that he paces the stage as though he owns it, spinning one of the staves above his head and the other at his side as he paces all the way to the back of the stage, and then looks out at the audience—looks out at them—

“Oh bloody hell,” Mitaka says, and he doesn’t even have time to push his chair back before Kylo is running full tilt at them, actually jumping off the stage like a fucking gazelle, landing on the table in front of them, and then just as quickly stepping onto their table—so close to Mitaka that Mitaka could reach up and touch his calf—and then onto the table behind them before stopping, looking up, and—

—holy fucking shit, tossing one of his illuminated staves up into the air, tipping his head back, and feeding the other one right down his fucking throat.

“That’s right,” Phasma says. “Right down your throat, big boy.”

Mitaka watches in shock as Kylo reaches up, catches the other staff as it falls, holding it up above his head. He’s seen the sword-swallowing before on the archive footage, he knew Kylo could do it, but there’s a massive difference between watching something on professionally edited video, and watching it in a weirdly lit bar as the performer in question swallows a staff while standing on a table in fucking dance sneakers.

He’s up on his feet applauding before he’s even consciously decided to do it, watches as Kylo pulls the staff out of his throat, and then bows, table wobbling underneath him. Mitaka can feel his heart pounding, knows he’s short of breath.

“That was fucking phenomenal,” he says as soon as the applause has died down, and Kylo has loped backstage.

Phasma grins at him wickedly. “I think I see what Hux sees in him.”

Mitaka makes a face. “For fuck’s sake, stop taunting him. He’ll be a nightmare—you know that, right?”

She shrugs. “I thought you guys were like this again.” She extends her fingers, middle crossed over first. “I mean, you forgave him.”

“I’ve got a heart,” Mitaka points out. “You, on the other hand.”

Phasma grins. “It’s not your heart, it’s the thing where you think you can manipulate him into—”

“Aaaaaand that’s enough of that,” Mitaka says. He shoves his chair. “I’m gonna go talk to their stage manager. You coming?”

“No, I’m going to finish—that fucker,” Phasma says, looking down at the table and then down at the floor. “Bastard kicked over my drink.”

“Maybe he’ll buy you another,” Mitaka suggests.

“Your stage manager,” Mitaka repeats, once he’s actually found someone he recognizes. “I’d like to talk to your—”

“Heard you the first time,” the girl chirps. “But we don’t have one, not for a show this size.”

“There were eight performances,” Mitaka says. “No, wait. Nine. Sorry, I’m drunk.”

She laughs a little, and then shrugs. “Still doesn’t change the fact that we don’t have one. I mean, Poe likes to pretend like he’s doing it, but honestly, he didn’t need to do shit, he’s just—he’s just here,” she says, as though the end of her sentence wasn’t at all what she’d meant at the beginning. She frowns at him. “Who did you say you were again?”

“Dopheld Mitaka,” he says, extending his hand. “Not here officially,” he adds hurriedly. “Just—personally.”

Her eyes narrow, but she shakes his hand anyway. “Jessika Pava. You a reporter or something?”

“No,” he says, “I stage manage—” And it’s a great time to lie, but he’s drunk, and his mouth just goes ahead and commits to the bullshit coming out of his brain. “The Knights,” he says heavily. “I stage manage the Knights of Ren.”

She stares at him for a moment, and then laughs in his face. “Oh my god,” she says.

“I wasn’t there,” he says tightly. “For the—I wasn’t there.”

She raises her beer at him, takes a swig from her glass. “I mean, that does explain a lot. Oh, and that’s why the blonde lady looks so familiar!” She turns to her right, yells at a group of people. “Karé! You were right!”

“I know!” comes the answering yell. The blue-lipped, mohawked androgynous performer from before swaggers up from where they’d been sitting, drapes an arm around Pava’s shoulders. “He with them too?”

“Stage manager,” Pava says.

Karé’s eyes glint. “Karé Kun,” they say, extending their hand.

“She’s my girlfriend,” Pava says proudly.

“Partner,” Karé corrects, flicking Pava on the nose.

Pava winces, and then grins. Looks over Mitaka’s shoulder. “Hey, Poe, we were just—”

“I fucking lost him,” Dameron gripes, striding over and running his hand back through his hair, still looking around the bar. “He’s probably—no, wait, I see him. Fuck, he’s talking to one of the goddamn Knights again—”

“We weren’t,” Mitaka says. Licks his lips nervously when Dameron turns to him. “Part of the Knights,” he clarifies. “We were separate, before—we’re not—” He sighs, looks over to the bar. Kylo is standing there, leaning in close to Phasma. It’s a disaster waiting to happen. “I’ll just go. I’ll send—I can send—Kylo—” Mitaka stops talking, waves his hand vaguely. “Back this way,” he finishes.

Dameron’s eyes are narrowed. “Are you sure you guys are okay over there?” he asks. “Like, I mean. I don’t care. But.”

“We’re fine,” Mitaka lies. “Everything’s fine.” He smiles like he means it, watches Dameron’s face soften. “Congratulations. It was a good show.”

“Sure,” Dameron says. “I mean—yeah. Of course it was.”

“I’m just saying,” Kylo slurs to Phasma. “You are so stunning.” He’s dressed now, his hoodie actually on and halfway zipped up. His chest is still exposed via the deep scoop neck of his tank top, and his stage makeup has mostly been washed off, fake eyelashes removed—everything gone except for thick black eyeliner around his eyes, a fresh application of lipstick, and the ever-present glitter. He has the same jeans on as he had before, except after watching him put a staff down his throat with hardly any visible effort, Mitaka wonders at the cause of the wear and tear on the knees of Kylo’s black jeans.

As Mitaka watches, Kylo reaches out, touching Phasma’s face, and for some fucking reason, she actually lets him, appears to be genuinely smiling.

Mitaka slows his pace as he approaches the bar, phenomenally fucking confused and trying to figure out if he’s more drunk than he thinks he is. He carefully and quickly touches the tip of each finger to his thumb, fumbles a bit on the fourth finger, but is otherwise quick and accurate enough to know that he’s not trashed, so—what the fuck is happening?

“You’re not so bad yourself,” Phasma says.

Mitaka blinks.

“But you’re a fucking mess right now,” she continues, and Mitaka relaxes fractionally, continues up to the bar. At this rate, he might as well order another drink, it’s not like sobering up is helping him understand tonight any better.

Kylo grins at her, tips his head to the side. “Have I told you,” he asks. “That it’s my birthday today? So if I’m ever entitled to be a mess—I think it’s today.”

“I don’t know,” Phasma says slyly. “You seem like the type of boy that might be a mess a lot of the time.”

“Maybe I am,” he says. “And maybe I’m not. You could find out, if you wanted.”

She reaches up, pats his cheek lightly. “You’re entirely too drunk for me to even consider that.”

Kylo hesitates a moment, and then grins loosely at her. “Good point. I’m pretty wasted.”

“Last thing I need is a case of a whiskey dick,” Phasma continues, and fucking hell, Mitaka really wishes he’d gone to the bathroom instead of standing by the bar beside the two of them. Like—this can’t be a thing. This can absolutely not be a thing, but he knows damn well if they keep pursuing it, he’s just going to go to the back room and collect Thanisson, and—move, or quit, or try working somewhere where his two closest coworkers aren’t sociopaths.

(He’s not going to do any of those things. He’s going to work until he dies, because that’s who he is as a person.)

“I can get it up for anything,” Kylo confides, probably louder than what he actually meant to.

Mitaka is going to die. He is going to dissolve into a puddle, and he is going to die.

“But I am pretty fucking drunk,” Kylo continues. “And it’s probably better if—yeah.” His face darkens for a moment, and then clears, easy smile reappearing like the sun from behind clouds. “Lemme buy you a drink, though, gorgeous? And I’ll get one for him too.”

Phasma turns. “Oh, Mitaka. You’re back.”

“Wish I’d stayed gone,” he answers ruefully.

Phasma grins viciously at him. “But I’m having such fun right now.”

“Well, that makes one of us.”

“Two of us,” Kylo answers, handing a pint over to Mitaka, and then a gin and tonic to Phasma. “And I bet I can make it three.” He extends his own pint somewhat unsteadily in a toast. “To good drinks, and better company.”

“To an unparallelled ability to deepthroat,” Phasma says, grinning.

Mitaka winces, raises his glass wordlessly, shakes his head minutely when Phasma raises her eyebrows.

Their glasses clink together heavily, and they all drink.

“I think Dameron was looking for you,” Mitaka says after he’s swallowed.

Kylo grins at him. “Thanks, man. I’ll go track him down.” He takes a couple unsteady steps away, and then turns back. “Hey, if y’all are ever in D’Qar—look us up.”

“We’ll see,” Mitaka demurs. He waits until Kylo has—rather drunkenly—wandered off before turning to Phasma. “Seriously?”

She’s still watching Kylo walk away. “He’s really something, isn’t he.”

“Please tell me you weren’t filming that.”

“Of course not,” she says, and she tips her phone toward Mitaka. “Just taking a couple pictures.”

Fuck, the man even looks good in candids.

Mitaka takes another drink of his beer. “Did you bother telling him you’ve been texting pictures of him to Hux all night?”

“Also video,” Phasma says absently, tapping away on her phone. “I managed to get the staff swallowing. And no, I didn’t.”

Mitaka pinches the bridge of his nose. “I’m not even sober and I can feel my hangover happening.”

“Well, isn’t that unfortunate for you.” She glances down at her phone again. “Oh, he’s so pissed. Goddamn, I love how reliably he falls to pieces.” She considers a moment. “Should I bother telling him that Kylo is currently grinding with some girl on top of a table?”

“There’s no need to make things up,” Mitaka mutters into his beer.

“That’s the glory of Kylo Ren,” Phasma says. She gestures to the other side of the bar, where Kylo is—

—oh, for fuck’s sake.

“Those two fucking deserve each other,” Mitaka says. “What the fuck. Don’t tell Hux I said that.”

“Why not?” Phasma asks. “He’s so easy to rile up.”

“That’s nice for you,” Mitaka says. “You just have to put his ribs back into place. I’m the one that actually needs to get him to work with people.”

“He’ll get it sorted out,” Phasma says. “I mean, how much worse could it possibly get?”

There’s a tug at Mitaka’s sleeve.

He turns, just in time for Thanisson to tackle him in a sloppy embrace, sniff heavily into his shoulder.

Apparently gambling hadn’t gone well.

“Aw, sweetheart,” Mitaka says. He nuzzles at the side of Thanisson’s head. “It’s alright, you’ll have better luck next time.”

“I lost everything,” Thanisson says mournfully.

Mitaka does a quick mental calculation, swallows back his sigh. “Alright, we’ll just—”

“Everything except this ten grand!” Thanisson says, stepping back and fanning out a ridiculous wad of cash.

Mitaka can think of about fifteen things to say—things like holy fuck and don’t wave that around in here, we’ll get robbed and how many people did you cheat and, primarily, what the hell—but he doesn’t say any of them, just looks at his boyfriend blankly.

Thanisson grins at him, all dimples and freckles. “I did good, ‘taka! Drinks on me! Let’s get some food! And some shots!” He shoves most of the cash into Mitaka’s hands, and stands there, bouncing on the balls of his feet a moment.

“You did well,” Mitaka manages finally, and Thanisson grins, wide enough to nearly split his face open.

“I’m gonna grab us shots!” Thanisson says, and then he’s off to the other end of the bar.

“Oh my god,” Mitaka says quietly, trying to fold the cash and jam it in one of his pockets. It doesn’t go gracefully, and he fumbles trying to split it into two stacks, regrets that he’s not wearing a jacket with additional pockets. “He’s never won that much before, I’m never going to hear the end of this.”

“Absolutely never,” Phasma says. “How the hell much did you send him in there with?”

“Two grand,” Mitaka says. “I sent him in there with two grand and he made it into ten.”

Phasma grins. “Well, there you go. You’ve got an alternate career—another alternate career—if you—oh, haha. Hux is back at his phone.”

“Do I even want to know?” Mitaka asks.

She chuckles, tips her phone toward him, and it’s just—holy hell, it’s a wall of text, with a series of phrases jumping out at Mitaka.

—fucking knew he was a goddamn slut—

—telling you for years—

—never listen—

—no way I’m getting in touch—

—why would I—

—ruined my career—

—are you fucking high—

Mitaka hands Phasma her phone back. “How long’s that rant been going?”

“Since I sent him the video,” she says. “I’ve got—eighteen minutes left before I send another text. I think this candid, huh?” She tips her phone back toward Mitaka.

It’s a candid of Kylo walking away from them. His ass looks fantastic.

“You know what,” Mitaka says. “I’m just gonna leave you to that. I’ll just … not get involved.”

“Suit yourself,” Phasma says, grinning. “I’m sure the next text is just gonna be more of the same, but it’s only midnight and he doesn’t sleep until four, so there’s all kinds of time for things to devolve.”

Mitaka rolls his eyes, takes the shot Thanisson offers him and sets it down on the bar, where hopefully he’ll just completely forget to drink it.

Thanisson tosses back his own shot and grins at him again, all dimples. His cheeks are slightly flushed. “Oh, hey. Was Kylo Ren any good?”

“Yeah,” Mitaka says. “He was quite good, actually.”

“Magnificant,” Phasma says wickedly, holding her phone up and taking another photo.

Goddamn, does Mitaka’s head hurt—and it’s gonna hurt worse if he goes back to Citadel tomorrow like they’d intended. “Hey, so. Thanisson. How’d you—how would you—feel if we … stayed here a couple extra days?”

“Work thing?” Thanisson asks. He licks some of the salt off the rim of his glass.

“No,” Mitaka says, telling the truth.

The eyebrow Thanisson raises at him indicates that he should have lied.

Phasma looks down at her phone, and chuckles.

Thanisson looks over at Phasma, back to Mitaka, and then to Phasma again—or, more specifically, to Phasma’s phone. “Oh,” he says. “I get it. Phasma’s riling Hux up and you wanna give him a couple days to cool down, so you’re faking that it has nothing to do with work so that I’ll go along with it.”

Mitaka rolls his eyes. “You could just let me pretend I’m giving you a vacation.”

“You don’t take vacations,” Thanisson says. He licks more salt off the rim of his glass, and then leans up against the bar and snuggles up against Mitaka’s side. “Thank you, though.” He leans into Mitaka’s ear. “Daddy.”

Mitaka can feel himself blushing furiously, and does not make eye contact with Phasma, instead looking out across the bar where Kylo Ren has the poi performer up on his shoulders, and glassware be damned because there’s no way she’s not dropping at least one of her pints in the next thirty seconds—

“Wait,” Thanisson says, following Mitaka’s gaze. “That’s the guy Hux fucked?”

“That’s him,” Phasma confirms. “Your boyfriend is into it, incidentally.”

Thanisson makes a face, and a disgusted noise.

Mitaka sighs. “Could we please never discuss Kylo Ren again?”

Phasma looks down at her phone. “Oh, for sure,” she says. “But that would mean I’d have to keep this latest batch of Hux texts to myself …”

Mitaka picks up the shot he’d been trying to abandon, and tosses it back. It burns all the way down his chest into his stomach. “Go ahead,” he says, regretting it already. “Show me.”

#kylux #kylux fic #ktula writes #fic: foxtrot uniform charlie kilo #fic: reconnaissance #i missed these fuckers so much #they are such assholes #and i love them all #like #phasma #you are being such an asshole right now #ben #you are a mess #hux #who even knows what the fuck you're doing #mitaka #you were a surprisingly fun viewpoint character

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