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#or just make another announcement. or just pin it
pomefioredove · 2 days
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Okay but imagine one of the guys actually win the prefect, and they just go rubbing it on the others face by making them wear their respective form uniform.
Except Kalim, he would probably just make them have a sleepover every night and paint each other nails.
ohhh see now I'm imagining all the alternate routes this could take... okay okay I'm so here for this. like half of the cast would totally make them wear the uniform just to rub it in, the other half would just be crazy about seeing them in the dorm uniform at all. I DO have some thoughts on this concept alone... and I'll make another part later yk yk
summary: joining their dorms + wearing the uniforms. a proper ending to this type of post: short fics characters: ace, deuce, jack, epel, riddle, ruggie, azul, jamil, kalim, vil additional info: yuu is gender neutral, ruggie is cute, azul is the cutest, vil enjoyers come get your food, maybe a little ooc for some parts
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If you thought it was bad before, the news that Malleus intended to marry you made everything about twenty times more chaotic. Bids were upped to insurmountable sums, rumors were spread like the plague, fights were raging through campus as the deadline to donate approached. Even Crowley was starting to feel a little antsy, despite all of the brand new amenities he had already ordered for his office.
Finally, the day came. The announcement was held in the courtyard, where just about any student who had stakes in the matter had shirked whatever after-school responsibilities they had to gather. The prefect themselves was nowhere to be found, though only few noticed their absence.
"Maybe it'll be nice," you say to your direbeast companion, the both of you tucked away in a dark corner at Ramshackle.
"It'll definitely beat living in this dump. You think they got good food in Diasomnia?" Grim murmurs.
You grimace. "Uh... sure. I can't imagine they wouldn't, right?"
Crowley clears his throat, pulling a thin, delicate envelope out of his coat pocket while the crowd eagerly watches on. He takes his sweet time opening it, much to everyone's utter dismay, and when he finally withdraws the contents the entire courtyard falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
"And our winner is..."
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First Year's Ending
"Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, and Epel Felmier. Congratulations! The prefect will be ready at Ramshackle for your collection this evening. I trust you'll sort out the details..."
The four freshman look between each other, a mix of awe and shock on each of their faces.
Everyone else is staring daggers at them.
Vil is the first to speak. "How?"
"We may or may not have sweetened the deal with a few exclusive bonuses," Ace snickers, crossing his arms. Vil rolls his eyes. Deuce sighs.
"We'll be Crowley's new slaves for months after this..."
Jack grumbles from the back of the four. "Well, it was worth it. Imagine if someone underhanded and dishonest had won, and-"
"Yeah, yeah. Whatever,"
The four pause, looking between each other in silence. Then, finally:
"So who will they be staying with?" Epel asks, catching Vil's attention again.
"Excellent question, Epel," the housewarden smiles, stepping back into the conversation. "We would be more than willing to accommodate the prefect at Pomefiore. Our dorm far outshines the others."
Leona growls. "I heard that. Besides, why should you be first in line? We've already housed them before, they were plenty comfortable then,"
"As I recall, you forced them into servitude as penance for staying," Riddle snaps. "Not exactly the friendliest host. I think they would be much more comfortable at Heartslabyul."
The four freshman can only watch in silence as the housewardens break out into bickering with one another about who's dorm is best.
"Soooo..." Ace starts. "Maybe we should rotate?"
Deuce sighs. "For once, you actually have a good idea,"
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Riddle's Ending
"Riddle Rosehearts, congratulations! I'll alert the prefect at once," Crowley says, immediately turning and disappearing into the crowd before anything can get ugly.
It doesn't exactly come across as a surprise to anyone- Riddle closely calculated his spendings, taking into consideration Leona's overconfidence, Malleus' stranger proposal, and Kalim's over-enthusiasm.
Of course, with some additional prodding about how no other dorm is responsible enough to handle another person like Heartslabyul, Crowley finally gave in.
And now, you're sat in front of the dorm's rose gardens, suitcase in tow as you make no apparent effort to walk in.
"Thought I'd find you out here," Trey says, taking a seat in the grass next to you. "Feeling okay?"
"Nervous," you admit.
Trey chuckles, much to your annoyance. "I promise there's really nothing to be nervous about. Riddle is really quite happy you're here,"
You find that a bit surprising, though you suppose it's hard to tell when he's excited. He always has this impression of deep psychological stress on him that makes him difficult to read.
"Is he?"
"Oh, yeah. He's been running Ace and Deuce ragged getting ready. He really wants to impress you," Trey pauses with a small smile. "You'll get used to the order of things here in no time. And if you ever need any help, you've got me, Cater, Ace, Deuce... I'm sure even Riddle will take it easy on you."
You smile in return. "Thanks, I-"
"Prefect!" Riddle storms out of the front doors, looking rather well-dressed for a simple Tuesday afternoon. "You were expected four minutes ago! I've taken the liberty of finding your measurements, so your dorm uniform is already ready and inside!"
Yeah. Excited, right. You give Trey a little look (to which he only waves merrily) and start off behind the housewarden.
For a moment, as you follow him, you could swear you catch him humming and smiling. But before you can say anything about it he catches Ace messing with your dorm uniform and starts shouting.
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Ruggie's Ending
"And the winner is... no... this can't be right..."
Crowley clutches the paper, bringing it close to his face. He clicks his tongue, murmuring to himself.
"Um... Ruggie Bucchi, everyone!"
The news sends a shockwave through the audience, and everyone turns to the sophomore at the back of the courtyard. The sudden shift in energy is enough to make him drop his sandwich.
"Damn it..." he grumbles, picking it off the ground and swiping the dirt off of it with his sleeve. "Still good, eh?"
"Are you deaf?" Leona glares. "You're just embarrassing yourself now, and me by association."
Ruggie raises an eyebrow. "What? Oh, the lottery-thingy? I'm pretty sure Crowley misread that. He's going senile, y'know,"
Crowley crosses his arms, begrudginly handing off the paper to Azul in the front. He adjusts his glasses.
"It says Ruggie Bucchi,"
"Then someone mistyped it! I'm telling 'ya, there's no way I managed to scrounge up enough before the deadline. I was digging between couch cushions by the end of it,"
Leona looks as if he's about to smack him upside the head. "Would you just get up there?"
"Geez, alright. But don't blame me when someone comes around with the right winner later," he says, trudging to the front of the crowd. "So what do I gotta do?"
"Erm... the prefect is waiting at Ramshackle. You'll collect them and return to Savanaclaw, where you'll be responsible for handling the details."
"Sure, whatever. Let's get to it, then,"
---
Even your surprise is palpable, though you suppose it could be a lot worse. Ruggie has been a pal before, helping you out at Sam's and convincing Leona to let you off the hook when you accidentally annoy him.
Though, he himself seems less than pleased as you step out of your new room in Savanaclaw, dressed in a slightly too-big uniform.
Leona smirks as if watching something amusing and claps, slowly. "Looking good. See, none of those other pompous outfits woulda looked half as nice on you. Nice work, Ruggie,"
Ruggie rolls his eyes and leans back against the wall. Leona excuses himself to find somewhere warm to nap, leaving you two to stare at each other.
"So... what's wrong?"
"Hm?"
"I mean," you say carefully. "You don't exactly seem excited about winning."
"Oh," Ruggie shrugs. "That's cause I didn't. Guys like me don't win anything. I'm sure someone will come to give you away to the right winner tomorrow."
The thought doesn't sit well with you- you're already here, after all, and Grim is gorging himself in the lounge, and you really-kinda-don't-mind Ruggie winning.
"Well, I hope not,"
He raises an eyebrow. "You know I can hardly afford to take care of myself, right?"
"So then we're even. Just don't make me go through all that bidding stuff again," you sigh. "Let's leave it at that."
A brief, though comfortable silence falls over the two of you, and then he grins. "Alright, then. I can live with that,"
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Octotrio's Ending
"Azul Ashengrotto!"
Azul's immediate reaction is to collapse. he hadn't really realized how much stress the anticipation was causing him until suddenly his knees were buckling like he was learning to walk on land all over again.
Floyd grabs his shoulder to keep him upright and Jade joins the scattered applause.
"Don't look so pale, Azul. I'm sure this will prove to be a worthwhile investment," he says, folding his hands neatly in front of him.
A part of Azul knows that Jade isn't referring to anything financial, but he doesn't say a word about it.
"Besides," Jade goes on. "It'll be nice having another member of my club."
Both Azul and Floyd groan in unison.
---
Floyd gives you a standing ovation when you walk into the Mostro Lounge, fully dressed in the provided dorm uniform.
Azul, on the other hand, looks away entirely.
"It feels too long," you say, staring at the bottoms of your pants. You're not exactly in a place to complain, so you keep your voice meek.
"We can make the necessary adjustments," Jade says, walking into the room with a tray of tea, his all-too-knowing smile as unnerving as ever. "You look very nice, though. Wouldn't you say, Azul?"
The merman's eyes immediately turn away from Jade. "Hm?"
"Tell the prefect they look nice, Azul,"
Floyd laughs from across the room, clearly enjoying the spectacle. You tilt your head to the side like a curious puppy, not exactly sure what this banter is about. But it's not your place to pry, either.
Azul's face is beet-red. "You... look nice,"
"Thank you,"
"So are they gonna work or what? I'm tired," Floyd whines, lying on one of the couches and kicking off his shoes.
Azul grimaces. "Don't do that, that's disgusting. And I thought we should let them adjust a few days before giving them the option of working,"
"Option?" Jade's grin widens. "My, aren't you feeling generous?"
"I... assume this process has been rather jarring. I don't want any of my employees distracted or mopey. Is that right?"
You blink. "Uh... yes. This whole thing has been pretty terrible,"
Azul nods in acknowledgement as Grim tumbles in the room, wearing a brand new purple and silver-streaked bow. "Can't believe you guys had one of these 'jus lying around! I feel like a million thaumarks!"
You chuckle and scoop him into your arms. "You look very handsome. Just like Azul,"
Azul can feel his soul leaving his body and has to swiftly turn around to face the wall so you can't see him blushing. Floyd laughs.
"Oh- oh I meant the bow looks just like Azul's outfit!" you correct yourself. He pretends he didn't hear anything at all.
Jade breaks the awkward silence with a chuckle. "Ah, what fun this will be. Now, I think it's only appropriate that we give these two a proper welcome dinner. Prefect, do you care for mushrooms?"
Floyd and Azul groan in unison.
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Jamil's Kalim's Ending
"Kalim al-Asim!"
Everyone could see that coming from a mile away. The disgruntled mumbles and groans of the crowd are drowned out by the cheers and claps of one sophomore, practically jumping up and down in the middle of the crowd.
"Yes! Yessss! This is going to be so much fun!"
Jamil suddenly looks exhausted.
Kalim runs to the front of the crowd, shakes Crowley's hand, steals the envelope from him, and sprints the rest of the way to Ramshackle.
Your moping is quite abruptly interrupted by a procession of loud knocks at the door, and after managing to summon your courage, you answer them.
"Wh-"
The very second the door is open, a familiar ball of energy is in your arms, squeezing you tightly.
"I wonnnn, prefect! I won!"
Your eyes widen. "You- you-"
You breathe a sigh of relief.
Out of everyone who threw their name in the hat, you couldn't get much luckier than Kalim. Financial problems? Gone. Loneliness? Blown away in the wind. Your chances of getting assassinated...? Well, let's hope Jamil is in a good mood.
Your uniforms are ready, measured to the exact inch, sitting on a set of mannequins that greet you as soon as you're inside.
Jamil is hovering behind one of them, picking at the sleeve of your school uniform for stray threads. He gives you a sideways glance, not exactly looking happy.
"My two best friends in the whole world in the same dorm!" Kalim claps. "You have to try on your dorm uniform, you'll love it! Oh, let me get you some new sheets- we have silk!"
He bounds off down the hall, leaving you alone in the lounge. The silence is thick and uncomfortable.
"Yeah, I'm outta here," Grim says, walking off in the opposite direction.
"Grim!" You whisper-shout.
"It's a preventative measure! No cracker-dry mouth for me!" and with that, he's gone.
Jamil smirks slightly, turning his attention back to sorting the uniforms. "You should get changed while you still can. I have a feeling Kalim will be attached to your side for the rest of the evening,"
You're pleasantly surprised to see how well the dorm uniform fits you, and your return to the lounge is accompanied with a little smile. The fabric is light and breezy, perfect for the dorm's usual weather- you could certainly get used to the perpetual summer.
"Fits well, I presume?" Jamil asks. "You certainly seem to be in high spirits."
"It could be worse,"
"Much worse," he agrees.
A silence falls over the two of you. Eventually, he sighs to himself, watching you out of the corner of his eyes.
"If you ever need a break from Kalim," Jamil says tentatively. "I could certainly find a way to distract him. Just so you know."
You understand the nature of his offer immediately, and though you know it's wrong, you don't exactly say no.
"...Thank you, Jamil,"
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Vil's Ending
"Vil Schoenheit! Thank the sevens..."
Though he walks to Ramshackle to collect his prize with a sense of ease, Vil admits that there was a brief moment where he felt anxious about not winning.
Standing in that crowd, surrounded by royalty and nobles, his chances were higher than most but certainly not assured. The very thought of you being stuck with someone other than him was enough to send a shiver up his spine.
After all, how many people on this campus would you feel comfortable with taking your measurements? None, none but him.
"Hold still," he says for the millionth time. "I'm almost done."
Vil insisted on taking your measurements himself, and you had no qualms about that. After all, things could be worse.
"There. I'll have these sent out right away. Pomefiore has many students of your size, so it's likely we'll have a spare uniform for you. That is, until I can have one custom-made,"
"You really don't have to..."
He raises an eyebrow. "Of course I do. You're a Pomefiore student now, I expect you to present yourself like one,"
A knock at the door pulls your attention away from him, though it's Vil who answers it.
He returns to you, dorm uniform in arm.
"That was fast," you say, accepting the bundle of clothes.
"Punctuality is important. Now, get changed, I want to see what I'll have to adjust for you,"
Waiting for your return is almost as nerve-wrecking as it was waiting for Crowley to call out his name. Vil can't be sure why exactly you're making him so nervous now, but it's all he can do to keep from showing it.
The dorm uniform- which you've dawned before- is just as comfortable as you remember. Warm, but not suffocating, soft but durable.
Vil stares at you for a short while before saying anything, simply drinking in your presence.
"Come here. I need to have a look,"
You inch forward, standing in front of him as he turns around you in circle, inspecting every inch. "Well, it fits much better than your last,"
He pauses, stopping in front of you. You look down at your feet, feeling as nervous under his analytical gaze as ever.
Vil chuckles, cupping your chin and tilting your head up to meet his eyes. "You look wonderful. I'll have to help with your confidence, though,"
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Good Ending
"And our winner is... M-"
"Crowley!" a loud voice resonates from the very back of the crowd. The sound of hurried footsteps follow it as Trein and Crewel show up on scene.
"We're... we're kind of in the middle of something-"
"You are absolutely not. I cannot believe I had to find out about your little scheme from Trappola and Spade, of all pups," Crewel grimaces. "Are you well?"
"Well I- I-"
"Called it," Ruggie grins. "Totally senile."
Leona rolls his eyes. "Oi! Just read the damn paper!"
"Absolutely not. This is a highly immoral and borderline illegal offense," Trein crosses his arms. "You will all be refunded promptly. Now return to your studies!"
The crowd slowly dissipates, murmuring amongst themselves. Crowley remains in front of the well at the front of the courtyard, kicking the ground with his hands behind his back, like a child being scolded.
Both Trein and Crewel glare. "If you were having such issues with the prefect's expenses, you could have asked,"
"In what universe is giving them away to teenage boys a sound idea?" Trein grimaces. "I can overlook many of the things you do, but this is far too much."
"But-"
"That's enough," Crewel snaps his pointer against his palm. "If the prefect is causing you such troubles, we'll be glad to take them off your hands. In fact, I've already had the necessary legal papers drawn. I've always wanted a pup of my own, you know."
---
A gentle knock at the door rouses you from your melancholy and after some lengthy pestering from Grim, you finally go to answer it.
Outside is none other than Ace and Deuce, looking rather somber.
"No- don't tell me," you say. "I don't even want to hear it."
Deuce sighs. "It's not that. The whole thing got canceled,"
"No- wait, canceled?"
"Someone got caught with their hand in the cookie jar," Ace snickers, but quickly clears his throat after Deuce gives him a sharp glare. "Crowley's negotiated a different solution to the problem."
Deuce nods. "Hypothetically... how do you feel about being adopted?"
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look-at-the-soul · 10 hours
Text
Every little thing you do - Part 6
Tommy Shelby x reader
Series master list
🥰So another part to this series, thank you so much for all your support and encouragement! It means the world ♥️ and as I take your feedback seriously, I can assure you Tommy will be looking for a housekeeper substitute 🤭
Word count: 3,138
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Y/N prayed silently her dress would close, Ada suggested getting it slightly loose at certain places just in case, because overnight, her belly was showing and most of her clothes wouldn’t fit anymore. It was funny because it only looked as if she was bloated but it was enough for a zipper to break.
“You ready?” Polly asked just as she knocked on the door, stepping in right away. As usual, she looked so elegant in her attire.
“Her dress is beautiful Mrs. Gray.” Y/N’s grandma pointed out making Y/N blush, she then turned to Polly. “And you look stunning.”
Polly nodded acknowledging her compliment.
“I can’t believe I’m wearing this gown.” Y/N stated staring at her reflection in the mirror, she looked like a completely different person with her hair up in a simple but elegant hairstyle, make up in just the right places, accenting her features, and the dress fit like a glove. She had never had a dress like this.
“You need something else though.” Her grandma suggested, she looked beautiful in her attire too, the Shelby family were too kind to extend an invitation for her.
Opening her bag, Y/N frowned confused by what she meant, she had everything already.
“Your grandfather gave me these when we got married.” From a velvet pouch, she produced a pair of gorgeous diamond studs.
“I think these will look beautiful.” Polly encouraged, feeling a swept of love by the exchange.
Y/N on the other hand felt lost for words, to some it might be a small detail, but to her, the sentimental value it’s what weighted the most.
“These are meant to be wear on occasions like this, right?” She asked holding one of the earrings for her granddaughter while she hooked the other one.
“Looks like you’re all set then… let’s welcome the guests.” Polly added taking grandma’s purse to help her. “Everything’s going accordingly so far.”
The music filled the big room, people were dancing happily, champagne flowing, staff filling empty cups with booze and plates with appetizers. Y/N felt particularly mesmerized by the chandeliers catching the light beautifully and reflecting all around as if it was dancing as well.
Tommy insisted the party should take place in Arrow House, said it would be a good excuse to do a grand opening, so she immediately got busy to have everything ready. The place oozed luxury everywhere she looked, the most important names in the country RSVP’ed faster than she thought. Never in her wildest dreams she imagined how it would turn out, she spent so much time choosing flowers for the center pieces, napkins colors to go with the tablecloths, tableware as well as the menu, days of hard work paying off finally on this night and for a brief instant, she allowed herself to feel proud because she took care meticulously of everything.
“I’ll be back in a minute, need an ashtray.” Polly announced and took grandma by the arm to chat for a while.
Y/N was taking everything in, still not fully believing it was a reality.
“Johnny, get everyone in the kitchen.” He instructed. “Five minu-“ words got caught up in his throat as he took a double look to his left and found Y/N standing by herself next to the staircase.
Her hair was pinned up, framing her face so it was fully on display instead of hiding, the dress made her look gorgeous but the cherry on top was the glowing emanating from within her heart, pregnancy was suiting her well. He then noticed she opened and closed the handbag nervously.
She wasn’t the same girl that used to run with him a race at an open fiel until they reached the river. He let her win so many times… yet that girl was somehow still in her.
He had never seen her like that before. She was more beautiful than he imagined.
But as soon as the thought entered his mind, Tommy kicked himself mentally. He shouldn’t think of her that way.
“Are you planning to give someone a heart attack?” He joked and took a few long strides to be at her side.
“I’m nervous,” she chuckled, “I’m the one having a heart attack.”
Turning around to face him, she felt her mouth going dry, the blue suit was a fabulous choice. It wasn’t traditional, but when she saw it at the tailor’s shop she knew Tommy had to wear it to the event and since she got a blank cheque, she added it to the account. He was so bloody handsome, but she thought that he looked even more that night. There, with a cocked smile and proud shining in his crystal eyes…
They stood there holding each other’s gazes, the people in the background fading away…
Until Johnny Dogs interrupted them.
“The boys are on their way Tom.” He nodded at Y/N. “Are we going, yeah?”
Tommy gave Y/N another look and she encouraged him with a smile to go.
He started to walk away, but then stopped abruptly and turning around he spoke; “Y/N you did an amazing job, thank you.”
Reaching his expectations was all Y/N wanted to achieve, to make him proud of her work. It was the way she knew in retribution to thank him for every little thing he did.
“And Johnny? Y/N told me she counted the paintings ey?” Tommy turned to give her wink. “So you better tell your kin they can’t steal anything or they’ll have to deal with a very pissed Y/N.”
Y/N gasped, of course she didn’t count the paintings. An evident blush covered her face and neck and she started shaking her head in embarrassment.
“Hey! That’s not true.” She tried to keep her manners, but her mind went back to when they were teenagers and her grandma discovered the two of them sneaking into the kitchen to get a slice of the pie she had baked and Tommy blamed it all on Y/N, the worst part is that her grandma believed him and scolded her granddaughter when it had been Tommy’s idea in the first place.
“Where are they, ey?” Tommy asked impatiently a cigarette hanging from his mouth.
“I’m telling you now, we got lost,” announced Arthur. “You really need to do a map, Thomas.”
“Right, boys you’re all here.” Tommy started in a warning tone.
The blinders gathered around him in a circle.
“Tonight it’s a fucking very important day, we’re celebrating the Arrow House grand opening.”
“Yeah, and you said there’d be no bloody uniforms.” Interrupted John.
Tommy shot him a death stare. “Nevertheless… nevertheless, John… despite the bad blood, I’ll have none of it on my carpet.”
They were part of the guest list.
He made a pause and looked around to his men. “Now, for Y/N’s sake, nothing will go wrong. She has worked so fucking hard for everything you see tonight and the Shelby Institute. And if you fuckers do anything to embarrass her, your kin, your cousins, your horses, your fucking kids, you do anything…”
“Tom?” Once more, John interrupted his brother.
“What?”
“What about snow?” Asked Isiah.
John replied something that Tommy couldn’t understand, but he felt his blood start boiling by their silly attitude.
“No, no, no.” He stood in front of the young blinder. “No cocaine.” Then pointing at his face, he repeated; “no cocaine. No sports.” He then moved to point at John. “No telling fortunes. No racing.” Walking back towards Finn, he continued. “No fucking sucking petrol of their fucking cars.”
He hated to admit it out loud, but he was nervous to. He wanted to fit in, he needed to blend in among the richest and more powerful people, to be one of them. To prove everybody that he had been able to claim a stair that was only reserved for those who were born in a crib made of gold.
Meanwhile, upstairs Y/N attended several guests, listening to the stories they were sharing about how much it would mean to them to donate and give back to the community. Some of them, Y/N learned were important politicians who wanted to show a good image to help them gain voters, others members of the aristocracy just wanted to show their wealthy off. Whatever reason they had, Y/N was excited to see some of the cheques they were writing right there for the institution, additional to a monthly donation they promised.
Finding Tommy among the guests, Y/N approached him to ask him if she could save the cheques in his office.
“Can we see this later?” He relief not even sending a glance in her direction, his eyes were fixed like daggers in someone.
As he moved around like a gazelle, about to chase his pry, Y/N noticed a group of women eating him with their eyes, looking him up and down, seizing his frame, biting their lips, probably wondering how would it feel to be with him….
Y/N felt like she was out of place, she shook her head and decided to ask Ada instead where she should keep the documents. She then excused herself for a moment, feeling like the happy bubble had been popped given Tommy’s cold attitude. He was never like this, he had never left her talking alone before, but he had been a bit off the last couple of days.
For some unknown reason.
Perhaps she had been creating a fantasy in her mind, yes he was a good man, but he also had an explosive temper when he wanted to, he snapped at people at the slightest provocation. Why would he treat her differently? Just because a she was pregnant?
A knock on the door disturbed the peace she just found, and without waiting to be asked to come inside, Tommy called her name.
“Y/N you’re needed downstairs.” Tommy informed her, but he knew her too damn well. When Ada told him that Y/N was taking a minute on her own, he knew she wasn’t comfortable about something.
“What happened?” He asked patiently. She shook her head, not wanting to make a scene. “Hey, hey.. come here.”
It was everything, her pregnancy, her nerves, the bloody hormones, mood swings, worry to make everything perfect… him.
“I hope you don’t take personally what happened earlier, I was looking for someone that wasn’t invited.” Tommy explained.
Y/N looked at him tentatively. She walked into the en-suite bathroom to wet a cloth and press it into the back of her neck, careful enough to not get a stain in the dress, he followed her steps and took a seat on the edge of the bathtub. The familiarity and comfort between them was too personal.
“Is this why you’ve been acting distant the last couple of days?”
With a sigh, he nodded. “Yes, I act like this when I’m scared.”
Y/N turned around pondering into his words, giving him time and space to speak on his own terms.
“I need to make sure you’re away from this business. I don’t want you to get involved at all. Do you understand?”
“Tommy what’s happening?” It all made sense to her now, the secret phone calls, the late night drives, his mood.
“The less you know, the better.” He cleared his throat. “Promise me you won’t make something stupid.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, he was the one always making the bad decisions she wanted to say instead.
“You won’t get involved.” He was firm about his statement.
“Only if you promise to be safe.” Y/N retorted.
“I’ll try my best.” A soft smile played on his lips.
She mirrored the smile and followed him outside, to join their guest one more time.
“Mr. Shelby! This is a wonderful party.” Mrs. Lewis praised, she was the wife of a former major, a bit extravagant, she loved to show off. “And a beautiful house.”
“I appreciate your words. But all the credit goes to Y/N.”
“So the old wives tale is real huh? That babies come with a bunch of blessings.” She squinted her eyes happily at Y/N’s baby bump, then looked back at Tommy. “Congratulations! I wish this baby nothing but the best.”
Y/N opened her mouth to correct her, and clarify that Tommy wasn’t the father. But Tommy cut her out.
“Thanks, hopefully you’ll be able to help us with the fundraising.”
“I’ll tell family and friends, you can count on that Mr. Shelby.”
As the woman disappeared, Y/N turned her face around to look at him.
“Let people talk, they’re going to do it anyways.” He stated, then as a waiter passed by, he took a glass of whiskey from the tray. “Rule number two; never reveal the truth when they can barely deal with a half truth.”
“What’s number one?”
“Oh, I’d tell you… but then I’d have to kill you and I’d be kind of sad you know?” He winked at her and elegantly strode towards where the music band was playing to grab the microphone.
“Good evening everyone, thank you for joining us tonight. As some of you may know, the Shelby Foundation Institute will open doors in a couple of weeks, we’re sure with this project we’ll be able to help many many children in need, grant them the education their parents can’t afford and a safe environment to learn and develop the abilities that’ll will help them in a near future.” A round of applauses filled the room and Tommy thanked the guest with a small nod. “Your contribution is highly appreciated, it will allow us to complement and provide everything that’s needed. I can assure you, your money will be well spent and we’re more than open to welcome you any time at the Institution.” His eyes started moving across the room. “Last but not least, I’d like to thank to the responsible of this project, the one who since day one showed a genuine interest and despite the doors that were closed in her face, she never backed down until this was a reality. Y/N thank you for everything you’ve done.” Raising his glass in her direction, he recognized her effort and compromise.
Blushing from getting all the attention towards her momentarily, she started biting her lip.
When Tommy started walking, people over to the side, making something similar to a human wall and leaving a space free for him to walk until he reached Y/N.
“Dance with me?”
The gesture took her by surprise, but soon Tommy’s arm wrapped around her waist and he started swaying to the beat of the music.
“Everything is perfect, thank you for taking care of every little thing.” He admitted with a very rare smile.
Carefully to not make Y/N dizzy, Tommy spun her around, following the music beats.
“Thank you for taking us in.” Y/N replied as a wide smile spread on her lips.
Feeling like nothing she could say or do was enough to thank Tommy. She’d be in debt with him for the rest of her life.
“You’ve nothing to-” he started to say but she cut him off.
“I do, every single time I blink, I feel so grateful to have you in my life.”
Tommy gave her hand a squeeze. “If things were different… wouldn’t you do the same?”
“Yes.” She admitted in a heartbeat.
“Then this better be the last time you thank me.” He raised an eyebrow as a warning, but his eyes remained giving her a gentle look. “I know you’d do the same thing for me.”
One more careful spin and the piece was done. A round of applause filled the room and the background noises brought them back to reality.
“I’ve to go, stay here, stay safe.” Tommy stated. “You know what to do in case something bad happens.”
He had already showed her where to hide in case anyone broke into Arrow House. It wasn’t his favorite outcome, but he had assured her it was for the best of she was prepared. Luckily he hadn’t show her how to use a weapon, but she knew the day might be closer than she thought.
“Tommy…” her heart started hammering her ribcage, she could feel it in her ears too. “Promise me you’ll be safe.”
The look of worry he found in her eyes made him fight the lump in his throat. If something happened to him, what would she do? Who would protect her? Who’d look after her and the baby?
“Will do. This is the last ilegal business, you know I want to make it right.”
Clearing his throat, he looked around finding Arthur giving him a nod, they were ready to go.
“I’ll be back before you know it.” He assured her once more.
As a different music started to play, Y/N went on to search for her grandmother.
Meanwhile, downstairs Lizzie was crying and smocking in such a bad shape after having a word with Michael about Angel, she started shouting when she heard what they did to his restaurant, she was fuming.
“Miss Stark can I help you?” Mary asked, smoothing her apron.
“Do you’ve a gun? So I can shoot someone?” Lizzie wiped her nose.
“No ma’am.” Mary took a step closer. “May I ask what happened?”
“The Shelbys blew my boyfriend’s restaurant so he couldn’t come to the party.” She tried to smooth the black mascara under her eyes.
And she started to whine and bent into the maid all she knew about the stupid rivalry between the Shelby’s and the Changretta’s.
Mary ignored Lizzie’s past, she only knew she was her master’s secretary, so she felt naturally bad for the green-eyed woman.
“I don’t get it, Thomas gets to have the little happy family with Y/N and also dictate who am I able to be involved with.”
“But they aren’t a family, the baby isn’t Mr. Shelby’s.” Mary dropped an unexpected bomb.
Lizzie stared at her in disbelief, her jaw dropping.
“Are you sure?”
“The motives of why he keeps her under his protection are unknown to me, but he isn’t the father of that baby.” The housekeeper assured her.
Lizzie nodded automatically, processing the news and thinking how this piece of information changed a lot of things.
“So Y/N is a little slut after all.” She mumbled to herself, planning in her mind a couple of ideas that would tear down that facade of integrity and good morals Y/N carried around like a crown. A woman’s reputation meant much more than anything.
And of course, it didn’t match the wealthy people standards.
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TYSM for reading! Remember your feedback feeds a writer’s soul 🥰✨
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lilybug-02 · 1 year
Text
“The Chara Timeline” Comic- Future Plans:
Since I’m a busy person and it takes me a while to make comic art here’s some information on how the comic is going!
Big Edits:
Next Parts (15-17):
The Next few Parts are being worked on all-together to make it more cohesive. 28 pages currently planned and choreographed, with 20 of the pages very well laid out- ready to draw and finish.
Next Weird Route (4-6?):
It’s mostly planned and drawn as well. (Though the ending needs much work). The only real challenge I have here is waiting until I have my regular route darkworld mostly finished. For my own continuity sake and I don’t like spoiling surprises ;)
Mostly Unedited Commentary:
For the mainline comic there will be about 12 more Parts planned for the end of the arc. And there are about 2-4 more Parts planned for the weird route (these are both subject to change due to my own incompetence, but this is were it relatively stands).
This comic does have a planned ending! I’ve had an end goal in mind for months, so its not something that’s going to come out of nowhere (I hope :P praying it feels organic). I’ve been on the fence on wether I want to continue the comic after my ending, but for now I don’t want to dwell on it too much. I’ll be more open to it when I finish. The most I would do is probably 1-2 extra pages or just a written epilogue. I want to take a nice break after I finish :)
It’s taken me longer than I imagined to get myself to this point in the comic’s story. I have a feeling these next few parts may take me about another 6 months or longer to finish it off. But I mean…. I am a college student and I need to do better for myself than just work all day on comic design. My future career plans have nothing to do with art, THIS IS A HOBBY, so it’s important I take long breaks in-between drawing to keep my sanity. ❤️
But despite the wait, I’m still excited for the rest of the story. I mean this is a passion project and it’s important to me to finish off strong. I’m glad so may of you also love the story and art.
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grugruel · 9 days
Text
His Little Killer
Pairings: Cooper howard x f!reader
NSFW/MDNI
Masterlist
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Summary: in reluctant companionship with a ghoul, which turns out to be exactly as dreadful as you'd thought. You find yourself in a shoot-out where–post battle–one of your usual fights end way more pleasurable than usual.
Word count: 2.9k
Warnings: (violence, blood, death, in typical fallout manners), enemies to lovers, choking, pinv sex, rough sex, fingering, creampie, pet names (darlin', honey, killer, sweetheart), praise, a pinch of degradation.
AN: not yet proofread! Hope yall enjoy! (Yes, I'm unwell.'
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Wood shattering, explosions booming–and charging footsteps heading straight for me. 'At my right!' I shout, gesturing in the direction of the steps. My voice barely registering above the racket of the fight.
Nonetheless, he heard me, I knew he did. Because bullets suddenly whizz past my makeshift cover in every direction except to my right.
The ammunition creating sick squelching noises as they collide with their targets, bloodsplatter spraying the walls a horrifying deep red. Meanwhile, in my corner. The heavy footsteps were left wide open to plough through the old wooden barrels I was hiding behind, 'Holy shii-' I squeak as im tackled to the floor with enough force to knock the breath out of my lungs. I try to cough, try to make my lungs open up as the man grabs hold of me. I hit my chest hard, desperately hoping it would do something–
He grabs my boots, pulling me toward him and finally- I get a breath of air. 'Stupid, fucking asshole.' I mutter through clenched teeth as I lunge and wrestle my attacker, our quarreling bodies kicking up a cloud of dust to swirl around us.
The man was big and foul-smelling, maybe it would've been better refered to as an it, considering the animalistic growls, snapping teeth, and fraying lips that bit and lunged at my face. He attempted to pin my arms to the ground while aiming its teeth at my jugular, but I was quicker. My knee smashing into his balls before he had a single thought of defending himself. He cried out in pain and I took my chance to roll him over, pinning him down with my weight instead, and I began throwing a wave of punches to his face, over and over again. 'I said MY right!' I shouted over my shoulder, weeks of fury and frustration bubbling up inside me as it fueled me into beating the ugly mut unrecognizable–when a second force slammed into my back, knocking me onto the ground once again. Another man, now climbing on top of me, his dirty fingers slithering around my throat and-
Another splatter, this time it's his blood–the second man's, and its sprayed all over me.
'Finally. . .' I exhale heavily, thudding back against the floor, splaying out with relief.
'Were really polishin' up on our teamwork.' A gruff voice announced, words coming out slow and steady with that self-satisfied tone which never failed to get on my nerves.
I heaved myself up on my forearms, angling my body so what remained of the man slumped off of me, and the source of the voice appeared like a specter from the dead man's shadow. 'You're a real pretty sight when ridin' a man like that.' He said, nodding to the guy with a bashed face.
I rolled my eyes, unbelievable. 'You mean while beating the shit out of him?' I ask, my voice pitching higher as I couldnt quite fathom the nerve of that man, despite forcing myself to get used to it over the past few weeks.
He hummed. 'Mhm, really got me goin' for a sec.'
My face scrunched up in disgust. 'Fucking cowboys.' I spat, renouncing the idea loudly. But, quietly, inside my mind, the thought had my core purring unwillingly.
'I shot right, just like you asked.' He shrugged, stalking closer, the drawl in his voice washing through the barren and now battered bar.
'The hell you did!' I hissed. He stopped at my feet, looming over me with his tall frame, frayed coat swaying around his chins, and that stupid cowboy hat covering half his face just like always. We'd been forced travelling companions for a while now, and I could say a lot of nasty things about him, but it was hard to deny- he was a real fucking apocalypse cowboy. Pretty cool if you cut his personality out of the picture.
'I said my right, what the fuck else do you think I ment with "my"?' I kick the lifeless body with my boot, emphasising my point.
'Well. . .' He shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips. '. . .my, right.' He smirked.
I shook my head, shooting him daggers. 'Not even you are moronic enough to get that wrong, ghoul.'
'Well, you're right.' He admitted, shocking me for a second. But then, the problem I've always had with him, inescapable and always the same–he never shut his damn mouth when he ought to–and continued, 'You need to work om your phrasin', honey.'
I shut my eyes, screwing them together so tight I began wishing I could disintegrate from annoyance and seep through the cracks between the weathered floorboards like a corn of sand. But no, I was stuck with him, and had to lay there listening to his idiocy. 'How–?' I sighed a heavy, exasperated sigh. '–is it possible for a man to be so full of himself, yet- never talk about himself?'
'Tricks of the trade, sweetheart.' He winked, clicking his tongue while those forsaken eyes roamed my body like a predator sizing up it's prey, and extended a hand toward me as if it were no big deal.
Exhausted as I was, accepting his help seemed sorely tempting to my tired body. After a moments hesitation, I decided–once, wouldn't harm my morals. So, I grabbed his hand with reluctance and let him pull me to my feet. 'I could've died, I hope you realise.'
'Yes. . . But you didn't.' His lips pulling into a grin. 'I wouldn't let that happen'.'
'You're a real bastard, y'know that?' the words left my lips with an unintentional drawl, damn that man.
The ghoul cocked an inexistent eyebrow. 'If I didnt know any better, I'd say im rubbin' of on you, honey.'
Another scoff from me. 'The only thing you're rubbing–is me the wrong way.' I spat, this time making a point of speaking as plainly as possible.
His eyes lit up suspiciously, filling with mischief as his widening smile creased them. 'Well, tell me how you like it then and I'll do it the right way.' He smirked, his voice gravely as it scraped along my spine with a shiver. He always did this, He'd call me nicknames, flirt with me. All cause he knew I hated it. But now he's just bordering on harassment. It did however, not, stop the heat from rising to my cheeks, or for a blush to seep through my skin. He'd staggered me, I truly didn't know how to react. What happened next was purely instinctively driven–
The palm of my hand made contact with his cheek, a crisp slap sounding out through the room. I even confused myself for a moment, almost as I was the one who'd been hit. But I would've been furious, how he reacted, well. . .
'There you are. . .' He purred, his tone lethal. '. . .my little killer.' A grin spreading across his face as he took a step closer.
He was pure poison, somehow both hot and cold as he ran through my veins. 'I ain't yours.' He wss the only person- ghoul, who could get on every nerve I possessed, lighting it ablaze with frustration.
'No. . .? You ain't?' He chuckled, 'You're sure startin' to sound like it, sweetheart. I see the way you look at me, the way you blush when I call you pretty little names.' He nodded toward my eyes, his hat tipping with the movement as he took another step, gaining on the precious distance between us. I feared he was right, too, my cheeks burned in a way I'd never noticed before. Had I always reacted like this? Before I knew it–I'd flung my palm for his face a once again-
Only this time, he caught my wrist. 'Tsk tsk tsk, you can do better than that, killer.' He let go off me, forcefully shoving my arm back to my side with a scoff.
But now, I'm the one stepping closer, pushing him away by the chest simultaneously. 'I hate you.' I spit, taking another step and push again, but this time he doesn't budge, and I was left standing mere inches away from him, my hands pressed firmly against his chest as my own heaved with frustrated breaths, strands of hair hanging over my face from the ordeal.
'Good. . .' He whispered, brushing wild strands of hair from my face. '. . .Now, show me how much you hate me.'
I could've slapped him again, pushed him again, done anything else than what I actually did. But my body acted on instinct, again-
I crashed into him, my hands grabbing his face as our lips met in a battle for control. He released a breathy moan, his trigger ready hands finding my waist impossibly quick to pull me flush against him, our bodies clashing together in a thud. He hummed. 'That's right, killer. Show me.' He whispered in the air-swallowing gasps between our kisses.
I put pressure behind my hands, walking him backward while my fingers found the buttons of his vest. Undoing them along with the shirt, then slid his coat and vest down his shoulders in one go, right before his back collided with the bar top. My hands found themselves making their beneath his shirt, feeling the dents of his scarred chest as I sucked his lip between my teeth, and bit down. A sharp hiss escaped him, quickly being replaced by a wide grin. 'Naughty girl.' He breathed.
Smiling, I pushed myself off of him. 'You bring it out of me.' I panted, pulling my shirt over my head and unhooking my bra, letting it fall to the floor.
He leaned back against the bar, bracing himself on his elbows as his eyes roamed over my bare chest and flushed face. 'Those are the prettiest fuckin' tit's I've ever seen. . .' He spoke in a low voice, too filled with lust to allow him anything else. 'Now, would you mind.' His hand gestured below my waist, his index finger sliding through the air as he traced the buttons of my pants from a distance.
And an idea struck me, suddenly feeling like I wanted to indulge myself in a little torture. Turning around, I did as he told me and began unbuttoning them, slowly. Terribly, terribly slowly. Sliding them over my hips and down my thighs, bucking my knees and bending over slightly as I pulled my panties down along with them. Just as I stepped out if them and looked over my shoulder to give him a coy little look, perhaps revel in the feeling of his pained expression–I was in for a surprise.
Turning my head over my shoulder, I came fave to face with him, but he wasn't just standing there- no. He collided with my back, his arms already wrapped around ny front to catch me. His shirt bow nowhere to be seen. 'Enough.' He growled, one strong arm wrapping around my breasts as the other wrapped around my waist. He raised me off the floor, held tightly against his chest. I squeeked, giggling as I pulled my legs up. Completley overcome with the anticipation of what was about to befall me–then I all of a sudden found myself pushed over the bar top, chest against the smooth luke warm surface. The quality off it telling me it hadn't been bought when fitted into this weathered building.
Then, the clanging of metal, leather groaning, friction, and his belt hit the floor. Gruff hands ran over the swell of my ass and down the arch of my back, taking his time to feel all of me. 'Been thinkin' 'bout this, how you'd feel falling apart beneath me, on top of me–' he leaned over me, hand wrapping around my neck as he pulled me flush against him only to whisper in my ear. '–around me. . .' He breathed, dragging the words out. '. . . All wet 'n messy with my cum fillin' you up.'
A moan left my lips. 'Show me.' Was all I could get out, a silent pleading to make all those thoughts a reality–and so he did.
Before I knew it, a hand had disappeared to line himself up with my entrance, pushing inside me without as much as a warning.
'Fuck!' I cried out, my voice breaking as my breath left me. It felt never ending, he was huge. But oh, he felt so good.
He groaned, finally stopping as he'd sunken all the way into my core. 'So wet for me already.' His hand slid over my back and shoulder, molding itself to my throat as the other grabbed my hip. Already flush with my back, he inclined his head, leaving trail of kisses along my spine and neck.
'Fuck me, please Coop-' it was the first time I'd called him by his name, and I realised it the second it left my lips.
His lips curled against my skin, a smile-
He thrusted into me, again and again. My back arching into an angled I had no idea it was capable of, helping him hit my core at every rut of his hips–not that he needed it. The 200+ years of experience really showed, and they were definitely felt.
The bar was dead silent, no noise except for our joint breaths of pleasure and the sound of slapping skin. It was lewd and brutal, and It made me absolutely delerious. His low, pained grunting in my ear did nothing to ease the matter. He'd created an aching so strong within me I wasn't sure It'd ever be able to be tamed.
'Harder, harder, please.' I stuttered, the words barely coming out between my heavy pants. Fuck, he made me feral. Without even trying, that's just what he was capable of. It annoyed me, he managed to annoy me while fucking me senseless. Oh, how I wish I could hate him, but there was no going back now.
Coop left little love bites all along my shoulder, and up the side of my throat, nipping and kissing in equal meassure as his breathing warmed my skin deliciously. Doing it all with such precision I couldnt understand, his thrust were rocking my emtire body, his chest rubbing againdt my back, yet he could be so delicate. I side ive never seen before. 'Little killer ain't so tough no more, is she?' He whispered, placing a kiss behind my ear before biting the lobe, tugging in it gently.
'. . . Mmh- 'm not, I'm not.' I got out. I was whatever he said I was while he delivered this type of pleasure on a silver platter. I didn't care, my morals had been thrown out the window the second his lips touched mine.
'Well, look at that. Admittin' defeat already?' I could feel his stupid grin again, his pace slowing- still ruthless, but it did enough for that feeling of building pressure to wain inside me.
I shook my head, shutting my eyes hard as I tried to focus on his member moving inside me, desperate not to lose that red string that'd lead me to climax.
'Words, sweetheart. Use em'. .'
'Dont fucking care.' I cried. 'J- just- Fuck. Me. Harder.' I ground out, my teeth clenching real hard from a mix of desperation and frustration for the pressure to start rebuilding.
'That'll do.' He groaned, squeezing my throat. All the while his other hand slid down to my cunt, starting condensed circling around my clit. And just like that, he'd made me into a whimpering mess for him to steady, falling apart beneath him just like he'd thought. Then he simply took up right where he left off, without missing a beat he thrusted so ferociously I was sure I'd be bruising on every single part of my body from the vibrations that rumbled through my muscles alone.
The darkness of my lips were specking with white, a wall of pressure building brick by brick in my abdomen. 'Close, so fucking close.' I whimpered.
'Good- Good job sweetheart. Doin' so good for me.' He burried his face in my hair, nuzzling his nose into its scent, inhaling it as he too approached climax. And there it was, that sudden softness. It was almost unsteadying my senses more than his touch, more than his thrusts, but only almost. 'You sound so sweet for me, honey. Let me hear ya'. . .' He moaned, exhaling warmth against the nape of my neck.
I obliged, of course I did. 'Feels so good, Coop- so close. . .' I panted, tears burning my eyes as they began rolling down my cheeks.
He slid his hand upward, keeping it between me jaw and throat, still choking me as he angled my face over my shoulder, enabling him to kiss me properly. And I've never been more thankful because I was about to cry myself dry as the wall broke. Pleasure flooding through my body in tidal waves, my knees bucking beneath me. 'Good girl.' He praised, voice muffled against my lips. Fingers stopping to instead cup my aching cunt. 'My good fuckin' girl, my little killer.' He moaned softly, my lips vibrating from the roughness in his voice as he caught me, delivering a final few ruts of his hips before he too came. Doing just as he promised, filling me up with his cum.
He loosed his grip around my throat and slit, letting me depend on the counter for support while he held me. 'Still hate me?'
'Yes.' I didn't, but it'd be a long time before I admitted that to him.
'Good.' And then there was silence, our lungs catching up with our breaths. 'Still wanna see those pretty hips ride me.' He murmured as he hugged me from behind, his hand sliding lower, pinching my hipbone.
'Ow! Asshole.' I yelped, and he kissed my shoulder to make up for it. But the thought was alluring nonetheless. I wriggled in his embrace, looking around at the destruction we'd caused, at the- dead bodies. And a pang of guilt hit me. 'Fine, but not here.' I agreed, actually wanting nothing more than to get out of there and sit in his lap, maybe ride his thighs too.
We redress, and share a kiss before leaving. 'Can't wait to taste that cunt of yours, killer.' He murmured suddenly. Leaving me staggered once again.
Ugh, I'm done for.
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gremlingottoosilly · 4 months
Text
The Horror and The Wild (emperor!Konig x fem!Reader)
A day after you and Konig's wedding. Who knew that evil emperors could be so romantic. Tags and TWs: Dub-con, aphrodisiacs, power imbalance, breeding kink, size difference, loss of virginity, age difference(Konig in his forties, Reader in her twenties), medieval/fantasy AU, Konig is a pervert AND an evil dictator Word count: 3256 AO3
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— Lift your hips up, princess. You don’t want to waste my seed. 
You whimper, trying to get your legs down, so he can’t force you to spread them anymore – but you feel the hot seed getting back in the swell of your well-used maidenhood, and it makes you whimper only more. What a woeful sight indeed – a fake princess crying over having to take the seed of the strongest person in the whole continent. You know a thousand of women who would beg for an opportunity to have the Emperor’s hands on their hips, guiding them down to admire the look. You know that the real princess – your princess – would never agree to this ordeal, no matter the begging and the bribery. So, you don’t agree too. — In m…my culture, a bride should wait at least a month after the marriage before the…conception, Your Majesty. 
You lie through gritted teeth like it could change anything. Like it could magically force all the seed from your womb to the ground again, to the silk of the sheets under you. Like the mere tradition that you gave birth to the idea of a minute ago would stop you from being König’s breeding mare. Still, you refuse to lift your hips, a small resistance that puts a small chuckle to his lips. He is amused by you – or your stupidity. Princesses are supposed to be spoiled and bratty, right? Yours certainly was. 
— Does your culture also make the bride lie to her husband? 
You lick your lips, forcing them closed. No another quick witty word from you – your lies already got you on the edge of…something. After König announced he knew who you were this entire time, he got you on your back, on your belly, with your hips up and down, your head silly from lack of air as he choked you until you begged for your life – only for him to kiss you over and over. Feeding your womb with his seed until there was a bump, not giving any chance that the baby wasn’t there yet. If anything, he conquered your body the same way he did your country – and left your bruised hips as a reminder. The handprinted bruises covering your skin like the finest fabrics of the gown he got you. 
— If you wish to order me dead, your majesty. 
— Death doesn’t mean anything here, meine Liebe. 
— Then banish me. For the lies and the betrayal of a royal…
He laughs – it’s a nice sound, still, something in your deprived mind likes the way you make him laugh and chuckle. Something in your head makes you feel as dizzy as you did when he cut off the air in your throat, every time that cold eyes of his look at you with warmth. heated obsession, whatever that is – you refuse to believe it was genuine, as you were borrowing your princess’s identity, but now, when he laughed and spoke about his true intentions, you weren’t sure if a pathetic and lowly lady-in-waiting is as safe in you as you thought.
— If being as stupid as you are is a punishable crime, then I’d finalyl have a good reason to kill off most of my harem. He laughs again, a hand in your hair – getting out all of the fancy pins and bows and dead flowers that were forced to be held in your crown and on your head. You groan in pleasure as the pins scraping your scalp are finally removed – and try to get back at his hand immediately when he comes to squeeze your breasts again. Not for any reason – simply because you happened to have the aspects of your body that he could touch. 
— Would be much safer to get a woman from a harem, sir. Not…not me. 
— And if I wanted just you? 
König looks at you – trembling, loved out completely. Covered in his marks, as many bites as a princess could take. Even being a servant, you’re almost as gentle and reserved as a real deal – but gods, if you weren’t the cutest thing he ever saw in that damned ugly country of yours. Hating nobility as much as he hated speaking to his troops not as their commander, König never particularly enjoyed the idea of having to marry some bitchy royal daughter…you, however, were the loophole in the god’s contract. A gift, just for him. 
— Your council would make me disappear for deceiving you in the first place. 
— No one would dare to leave the empire without heirs. 
— You could have another one. There are plenty of princesses out there, Your Highness. 
— And I don’t have enough patience to entertain you trying to sell me the idea of your freedom. Do you know what relief I felt when you were the one to meet me? 
You don’t answer, instead prompting to just listen. You have good ears for listening – for allowing others to talk, so you wouldn’t be made to fill in awkward silences. König loves that and appreciates that. Finally, someone who can just be silent – even if he also has nothing to say, at least you’re scared and angry enough to dismiss him anyway. At least your unwillingness is making him less awkward at participating in the conversation. 
— You knew who I was all along? 
— Princesses are pampered. Even the poorest kingdom would never have a princess with hands as hard-working as yours, Schatz. 
He takes his hands in yours – no matter the healing creams you rubbed in them, no matter the lack of actual physical labor, even the smallest tasks you performed for the princess, the tiniest exposure to cleaning supplies that would make the toughest skin crack, left a small traces in the skin of your palm. Fingers with clean nails – short, practical, indicating the need to have your hands in working order all of the time. Indicating your lack of a servant who would do everything – opening buttons on clothes, embroidery, and washing oneself’s body. indicating that you were said servant. 
You look embarrassed that he pointed that out. Scared, almost. 
— Are my hands too ugly for you, sir? 
He can see the tremble in your fingers. He traces them with his – large, calloused hands keeping you in place. Rough skin and multiple ridges of scars over the darkened skin made you shiver from the contrast of the sensation – those are the hands of a ruler who isn’t afraid of taking a sword in his hands. Who almost got his arms chopped off for this altogether. 
Then – he kisses them. 
One finger at a time, every ridge and bump in your skin deserves a graze of emperor’s teeth as he tugs on rough skin around your knuckles. Your hands are soft, softer than a normal maid would have – but changed from the work you had to put. Every kiss and lick doesn’t make them gentle, doesn’t remove the experience you had – in braiding hair, in washing clothes, in cleaning up after a royal mess. It doesn’t change who you were, but with every little praise he whispers – crude language, really, but the affection in his words scares you more than any foreign insult could – with every toss of his lips over your palms, he is changing who you are. Who will you become in just a week or two. 
He calls your hands beautiful – in North tongue, with a smile on his face. König loves to explore, and your body is a beautiful place for him to be. Your hands are the best place he could have been in the morning. 
Some historians are already saying he has done more to this country than any other ruler ever could. But oh, the emperor knows that the most important thing he did here was kiss your fingers. Over and over. 
You snap your arms back when he finally breaks down, starting to bite – the softer skin of your palms falling victim to his sharp teeth. Emperors aren’t supposed to have sharp teeth but for all he knows, he was born from a dog and raised by one. A wolf in wolf’s clothing. 
— Your hands belong to an empress. 
— Thought I was a regent. 
— You are, mein Schatz. Can’t trust you with a country, ja? 
You laugh, but there are tears in your eyes. Loss of whatever authority you could have as the princess's personal maid – her friend if he knew anything about royals and their habits. Scheisse, he was the emperor for 10 long years and still didn’t get a hang of it. Might be something he had to be born with – such a shame, really. Should have told his mother to never give birth to a rat that would usurp the throne once out of the crib. 
He loves to see you weak, trembling like this – like a proper bride should. Like a real princess, the one whose manners should be enough to fool the people and the dumbest of his court. The smartest ones could always agree to put their tongues up their behinds – if they don’t want to get their heads chopped off by his blade, without even bothering an executioner to do it. 
— But you can trust me with your children?
— This empire needs an heir. As much as I can rule forever. 
— No one is immortal. 
— Ach. Did Sebastian forget to visit you before the wedding, little princess? 
He is mocking you, again and again – he laughs with death and you hate it, you hate yourself, you loathe him and his laughs and his crooked smile and the scars covering his skin and…he kisses your hands again, then – dips your hands up in that mask of his. Lets you feel the skin, involuntarily trace your fingertips all over everything hidden – you touch his teeth, his fangs, and you gasp in shock. So, the monster has lips. So, the monster has thin lips and wet mouth, and he dips his tongue all over the traces of knuckles and…
König knows you’d never agree to be his in a way that he wants you too – but this is fine. He can work you around. He can break you. He can please you. What a wonderful job would this be. 
— Your court would soon find out I’m not the one. 
— They know how to keep their mouths shut. You would, however, have to deal with my harem personally. 
— Did you intended to add my princess to your harem too? 
— If I knew that you wouldn’t take her place? Of course. I never visited the place for the exact reason I didn’t bother to find your patron. 
— Are you really satisfied with the scraps? 
Oh, his poor, dumb girl – he was feeding off scraps since he was ripped away from his mom’s tit. You were the only fancy meal he ever liked in his life – and gods, if he wouldn’t give up anything to taste you again. 
On the other side, however, he can do just that. 
König dips his head down, the traces of his hood laying on your labia. You whimper. 
— I never ate anything as exquisite as you, little princess. 
— I’m n…why do you keep calling me this? 
— You will be my princess. Forever trapped on my lap, on the floor, chained to my throne like a…
With each word, his tongue laps on the glossiness of your lower lips. He gives your maiden a little kiss all over, he digs down like it’s a fancy meal indeed – the scrawny hairs of his stubble make you whimper every time they graze your clit. König has a fleeting thought of eating his cum out of your poor, sore body – that it wouldn’t be wise, that it would make the process of impregnating you slower. Then, he thinks – he can just fill you up with his seed later. And in the evening. And tomorrow. 
He pushes his tongue down, deep – you gasp, you get your hands on his hood, not trying to tear it apart, but laying there like a scared maiden. You were one – you are one, after all. Gods, he could just keep you here forever if it weren’t for the country needing its empress. 
König kisses you all over – you’re still smelling like rose water, like fragrances that were forcefully rubbed on your skin right before the wedding. A proper lady, you were bathed in salts and oils like a kitchen in poor man’s soup – but weren’t you looking beautiful in that dress of yours. Too bad he had to rip it eventually, stepping on it accidentally quite a few times as he was getting you water. Your little trick with the herb did make you thirsty in all possible ways. 
You don’t know a lot about royal weddings, but you’re pretty sure that the emperor shouldn’t be sprawled on his giant bed like this, eating you out like you were the roasted lamb served at yesterday’s feast. You moan when the material of his mask is getting tricky with your gentle parts when the rough fabric is scrapping your thighs in a way that is far from arousal – and then he leans in, a head laying on your tummy. Your princess parts are swollen from his actions – and lack thereof. You almost think you could buck your hips up like a… König takes off his hood. 
— Wh…what are y… You don’t master enough words before he is forcing his face against yours before his lips finally lay down on yours properly – and gods isn’t this a beautiful sight. The emperor, the vile conqueror, your biggest enemy, and your husband – smiling like a boy when he got free candy, like a cat who got the cream – like a man so in love, it makes him unable to stop smiling while looking at his wife. 
He isn’t pretty in the sense that some of the rulers can be pretty – he isn’t hideous either. A rough face doesn’t look like something that belongs to a royal family – big nose, small lips, chiseled chin and not a sight of inbreeding. You try to see if his ears are wrong, at least, but they are fine – not caring about a bit of chopped-off bits, probably from old battles. He is rugged and handsome and rough and you hate that red stubble on his chin and his gorgeous ginger hair – if you were forced to see this face every day, you might give up and like him. It’s a good thing he wears the mask most of the time, isn’t it? 
— You don’t like how your emperor looks, little princess? He laughs again, then – cups your face in his hands and kisses you all over. Again and again, his lips fell on yours making you feel dumb, making you feel dizzy and just a bit charmed – like the potion you drank yesterday hadn’t fully worn off. You can taste your own pleasure on his lips and it makes you embarrassed – a proper lady should never enjoy a process as dirty as making love – your lower parts should only exist for him to take pleasure in ruining it, and for you – to birth little princes. 
But König bows down before your lower lips, but König presses his tongue against your special spot again and again, and it makes you wonder if he recites the anthem of the empire on the little swollen bud between your legs – for his actions are filled with devotion that should only be reserved for one’s country, not for just a poor, dumb handmaiden whose only job was to lie and to protect. But…is it really all you want to do now? Just lay here and let him take him, without a chance of enjoying him playing with you if only for just a bit longer? — I…I believe you look fine, Your Majesty. 
— Just fine? 
He smiles and kisses you down there again – the aftermath of your pleasure makes his lips feel too hard on your swollen parts, the climax had taken everything from you left only feelings, as naked and trembling as you are right now – and, by god, if you aren’t feeling like sold and set in pieces. You are selling your dignity right now, the loyalty to your kingdom is getting grazed by each new stroke of his tongue. You close your eyes and moan – for you can’t hold off your pleasure anymore. For you don’t see a reason in trying to pretend you don’t enjoy being treated like a princess after a life of servitude. 
— You are fine for an emperor, my…my husband. You struggle to say it – but you do have to say it eventually, at least in front of the servants. If he isn’t intent on keeping you locked away in a tower, pumping out babies like his little servant – maybe he wouldn’t want to keep you open for the world to take. You were a secluded princess kept in shadows before he discovered you, after all. You served the one, at least. 
— Trying to cover the harsh words with honey, ja? I killed for less, mein Schatz. 
— I assume you won’t kill me before the first son, at least? 
— Wouldn’t kill you even if you’d be barren. I’d rather leave the empire to rot without an heir than choose someone else in your place. 
— That is awful news for your empire. 
— Our empire can rot without you, Meine Liebe. Never wanted the damned crown in the first place. 
— But you’re fine with putting it on the head of a commoner? 
— I was a commoner once. Know better than anyone else that a princess would never make a good wife. 
You never studied his rise to power – the latest politics were hidden from you and the princess, the king never wanted to taint his daughter with such silly things as rising stars of the political arena – and he failed to mention the empire that was once rotting from its head getting a ruler who would take half of the continent and a daughter of every kingdom in his harem as the spoils of war. 
He lays down beside you, taking you in his arms again. his hair flows all around you – he smells like blood, still, even after so many hours spent bathing in your shared musk. You wonder if everything he had done with the forbidden rituals made him like this – face torn and stitched back together again, harsh scars that can only be made from a blade or claws of a giant animal – and he pushes you down to press your face against his chest, taking in the feeling of laying beside your husband. 
— Don’t you have something that needs to be done, Your Highness? 
— The most important thing I need to do is lay between your legs, little princess. And you’re too swollen to be doing that. 
You press your forehead against his chest. Taking it him and the light tan of his skin – you wonder where he could get it, if he almost never took off his armor. His face is as pale as it can be, and it makes him look a little silly when naked – but you refuse to smile and make him angry. — I thought you wanted me to meet your harem. 
— They can wait. We need to give them time to prepare the poison for you, right? 
He laughs and you don’t find anything better to do than to press your head against his chest and close your eyes. The royal visits really can wait until tomorrow.
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okwons · 7 months
Text
accidentally mentioning you on live
♡ idol enhypen ﹒ reader genre fluff word count 300 warnings none — bookshelf
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heeseung wouldn’t even notice your name slip through his mouth since he’s so used to it. he would unknowingly look over to the staff and have an instant change in expression — equally as shocked as them. the last thing the viewers would see is heeseung turning off the live without saying a single word
jay would play it off so well. he would casually be showing his viewers the new pictures he took on his camera and scroll a little too far which results in him revealing you. before anyone can ask about it, jay makes up an excuse to end the live and it was never to be brought up again ..
jake would be unboxing a new lego set with another member and excitedly mention that you were the one who bought it for him. the other member would immediately start nudging his arm to remind him he’s still live. after realizing what he just said, jake would turn into a giggling mess
sunghoon would be in a heated debate with the other members and suddenly announce “yn would agree with me” and then it’s pin drop silent. he would be so confused as to why everyone got so quiet .. sunghoon would finally process what he said a few minutes too late
sunoo would have a habit of ranting about you. when it comes to lives where he sits down and talks to his viewers, there’s no way he wouldn’t mention you! after sharing a couple stories, sunoo would scroll through the comments only to realize what he did and slap his hand over his mouth to stop himself from confessing anything else
jungwon would be doing a mukbang for his viewers to watch and unintentionally mention that he was eating your favorite dish. the comments would instantly flood with questions like “who’s that?” jungwon would peek at the staff with pure panic, along with a tiny smile threatening to appear on his face
riki would bring up an embarrassing story about you and his expression would suddenly be washed with horror. not because he was caught by his viewers, but only because he’s scared of the scolding he would receive from you. the minute riki locks eyes with the staff, he wouldn’t be able to contain his laughter
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© okwons y was this sm fun to write
@dollikis @yuerki @hysgf
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luveline · 7 months
Note
hi baby if you feel up for it i'd love to request some fluffy fluff with sirius. maybe he's usually so reserved and stoic (because, cmon) and they're out with his friends and they're all making fun of him for being so lovey and doting on r
love u sm!
love you!! ♡ fem, 1k
"This is really lovely," Sirius says, your face turned to the light in his hand. "It's bright without looking out of place. Blue is your colour." 
"Thanks, bug," you murmur back, holding still as he cleans the smudged mascara from your lower lash line.
"Every colour is your colour," he amends. "It goes nice with your top." 
You rub your lips together slowly, sticky with gloss. His noticing makes all your make up efforts worth it. 
Sirius wipes his thumb into the tissue you'd given him and tucks it away, stroking your cheek one last time with his other hand before stealing yours to twine your fingers. Your friends have carried on into the pub, but it doesn't take long to catch them. Remus was kind enough to wait at the entrance, eyebrows raised. 
"What?" Sirius asks. 
"Nothing." It's clearly something. "At all." 
You figure it's between them and skirt past Remus with a smile, eager to hide away in the warm wooded walls of The Firestroke. The boys filter in behind you, following you through the entryway and past the bar to the table James has commandeered with Emmeline. 
He's fiddling with her hair, readjusting a bobby pin, another held between his lips. "It looks nice, Emme, you should have it out of your face more often." 
"Marl says that all the time. Hey!" She beams at you. "Come and sit by me." 
You laugh happily and slide onto the seat next to her. You, Emme, and James sit on the booth side while Sirius and Remus set themselves down opposite. A waitress arrives and Sirius doesn't wait for the others, ordering a round of drinks for the entire group, wherever they may be. They'll filter in soon enough. 
"And extra cherries for my girl, please," Sirius says, nodding to you as he does. "Thanks." 
"Ooh, for his girl," James croons. 
"Remember when he'd order stuff for me like that?" Remus asks. 
Sirius rolls his eyes, offering his hands to you from across the table. Honestly, you're slightly surprised at his behaviour today, but you won't look a gift horse in the mouth. You lay your hands in his obligingly and relax as he begins to draw shapes into the fronts of your fingers, tiny stroking lines that feel ridiculously good, even under the eyes of your friends. "He's lying. I'd purposefully get his food wrong when we were teenagers so he'd have to go up to the counter and correct it." 
"Like exposure therapy I never signed up for," Remus sighs. "It worked, too." 
Sirius laughs. He's handsome to begin with, the last burst of a tan from summer's end on his skin, his hair dark and lush in the shimmering light, and when he laughs it's a tenfold effect, the grey of his eyes suddenly mesmerising, the wicked curve of his smile softened into a sweeter thing that begs to be kissed, or admired at the very least. You let him keep one hand but turn the other inward to give him similar treatment, rubbing your fingertips up and down his palm in a ticklish wave. 
"Do that to me, mate, there's a good lad," James says, offering his hand. Emmeline bats it away. 
"Awfully jealous today, aren't they?" Sirius asks you, ignoring their teasing to curl your fingers in and cover them. 
"I…" You're not sure what to say. Does he not realise how sweet he's being? Publicly? He's not usually this open. 
"You okay?" 
"Fine, just…" Words fail you twice. You cringe at your lack of explanation, but Sirius doesn't falter in his nice touches. It shouldn't shock you when he slides his chair tight against the table and pulls your hands ever closer, his top lip scratchy with hair as he leans down to kiss your knuckles. "Siri." 
"Yes, darling?"
"Jesus," Marl says, announcing her presence with a faked gag. "What's your problem, Black?" 
"I'm deeply in love, McKinnon. Not that you'd know what that feels like." 
You melt in your chair as he kisses a short path to your wrist. You could write Marlene a ten thousand word essay on love if she needed it, that's how adored he's got you feeling. 
"Absolutely vile."
"So sweet!" Mary denies, plopping herself down in the chair beside Sirius', all pink tulle and flowery smells. Any other day you'd be jealous of her in a good-natured but undeniably insecure manner, terrified that Sirius was gonna turn to her and see her in all her dewy beauty, but he doesn't so much as look up, your hands now rubbed against his cheek. 
"He's had a bit of catnip or something," Remus says. 
"It's the eyeshadow," you try to explain. 
Sirius lifts his head severely. "It looks perfect, but it's definitely not the eyeshadow. I'd feel just as mad about you if you were covered in soot." 
"Good to know," you say breathlessly. 
"Oh, so you're feeling pathetic today?" Marl asks.
Sirius sighs as though he's been greatly inconvenienced and sits up properly, casting his gaze around the group for a lick of sense between them, if his slack eyebrows are anything to go off of. "You're all wrong. I'm this pathetic for her every day of the week." 
"Then what's with the PDA?" James asks incredulously. 
"Mate, first of all, look at her. And if you must know, it's our anniversary." 
You flinch, your gaze jumping to his. The group erupts with well wishes and 'why didn't you say so's, and James slaps his card on the table, insisting that the round is on him to celebrate. Your heart races as you make the calculations in your head, calming as you realise that nothing falls on today's date, not a half month nor a first date. 
"Sirius?" you ask while everyone's distracted. 
He takes your hand again and begins kissing your knuckles once more. "I'm lying," he says, as you'd figured, scratching your fingers with his stubble. "That's what he gets for prying… You really do look lovely tonight." 
You nearly swallow your tongue. "Thank you. You look lovely, too." 
He smiles, twining your fingers together to rest his face against the back of your hand. "Thanks, angel." 
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rboooks · 11 months
Text
Alfred's Boy: Part 2
Bruce felt his blood pressure rise as Damian shoved another pair of swimming trucks into his cart. His youngest insisted that he needed something flattering, as his previous outfit was "functional but not attractive to the youth of today."
Damian had never cared that he wasn't up to the trends, but that was before Danny moved into the manor. Now he had to wait hours for Damian to find a satisfying outfit, knowing darn well its only because Danny mentioned he was interested in taking a dip in the inner pool.
The boy, technically being staff, felt it was essential to ask permission before taking a swim. Bruce had spent years telling Alfred he had free range over the manor, only to always have the man ask before doing anything. He hopes Danny won't develop the same habit.
He wanted the young man to feel at home with them.
His younger children- who honest to God forgot they even had a pool- had all scrambled to go swimming with Danny. Tim had practically thrown himself over the table to change from his WE suit into his swimming wear, Duke use his grappling hook to zoom up the stairs and Steph begged Cass to lend her a bikini.
Damian remained seated, despairing that his old swimming shorts had been bought by Dick the year previous. Dick had gotten him green shorts with little cats and dogs. Damian- who refused to even go near public pools- wore them to the family pool with no desire to purchase new ones since he saw no point in it.
And now he was paying the price for keeping childish wear. Personally, Bruce thought they were adorable and perfect for his fourteen-year-old son, but being two years younger than Danny gave him a terrible disadvantage, and Damian could not afford falling futher behind.
He just sat there, staring longingly at the retreating back of Alfred's assistant after telling him he had nothing to wear. Danny had told them he could join the rest another time before scurrying away to finish his cleaning of the right wing.
What else could Bruce do besides offering to take him to the nearest outlet mall and get him something nicer?
"Damian are you almost-"
"I am ready, father. Make haste to purchase our wears. Daniel must be finishing his duties, and I wish to get back." His son announced, yanking the cart out of Bruce's hand and practically running to the cashiers.
Bruce sighed.
It's not that he minded his son's crush on a boy or that it was Danny. It just felt like he shouldn't be encouraging his children to try and romance someone going through a lot.
Alfred had forbidden anyone from looking into Danny's background, and he had respected the request. There was a lot Bruce and Batman were willing to do but defying a direct order from Alfred was not one of them.
(Honesty, if Alfred ever turned evil, Bruce's contingency plan for him was simple: Die.)
Danny took his assistant butler job very seriously. Often wearing a neat and pressed suit, finishing his work in record time, well mannered and very intelligent but kept a distance from the family. Alfred also had a small wall of professionalism but he would crack a joke and be in their presence like a grandfather.
Danny only spoke when spoken to, tried to refrain from being notice and basically kept the reminder that while he liked them all he was always going to be a employee first and foremost.
Maybe it was due to his parents? Danny probably couldn't relax until he felt safe once more. Not for the first time, Bruce wondered what type of monsters the Fentons had to be to make a boy capable of discovering the Batcave without so much of a blink, flatter.
"Father!" Damian called impatiently, tapping his foot before the nervous-looking teen who what been attempting to ring him up.
The Wayne's made everyone nervous.
"Yes. Yes. Here put It on my card-" Damian snatched it out of his hand before Bruce even took it out completely from his wallet.
Suddenly his phone rings. Seeing that Damian could handle punching in the Pin, he accepted the call, not bothering to check the screen.
All his children have personalized ringtones, so only one person would cause Gun and Ships from the Hamilton musical to blare from his phone.
"Jason-"
"Bruce!" Jason yells in a wheezing voice "Tim almost drowned!"
What.
"Is he alright!?"
"He's fine!" Jason assures, voice breaking to manic cackling. "He's just really embarrassed. He forgot about the bruise on his back, so when he tried to do cannonballs with Danny, he cramped up. Danny had to help him out of the pool and then lectured him about jumping in the deep end because of peer pressure. He thinks Tim can't swim, Bruce!"
Bruce felt a headache building behind his eyes. "Jason-"
"Wait, wait, there's more! Do you know how Steph never wears bikinis because she is uncomfortable? Danny clocked that as soon as she walked in and offered her the old t-shirt he was wearing. Took it off right then and there, and do you know what Steph did!? She walked into a wall! A wall Bruce!"
"Jason-"
"Duke hasn't stopped staring at Danny. I think his brain is in a permanent blue screen. I'm actually thinking he's-"
"Jason!" Bruce cut in which finally seemed to get his second oldest attention. Don't get him wrong, he was thrilled that Jason was spending so much time around the manor but the constant updates on his children tripping over themselves for Danny was not well for his heart. "I think you need to make sure your siblings give Danny some space. The poor chum might not be comfortable-"
"I'm not helping you stop Danny from finding true love, old man"
Bruce rolled his eyes as his son hung up. He can't wait for school to start up again. Danny will be homeschooled by his own request and Alfred's agreement but at least most of his kids will not be around him as often.
His phone started playing Sk8er Boy and he considered not answering. He really did but honestly his son probably needed him.
With a sigh he presses the accept call button "Tim-"
"He thinks I can't swim Bruce! He banned me from the pool!" Tim sobs and Bruce sees Damian perk up, happy Danny had put distance between one of his suitors ans himself.
Was it too late to ask Alfred if he was sure his contact Clockwork had no where else to foster Danny?
Being Batman on the night all his rouges broke out was easier then this.
( Part 1) (part 3)
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felixandresims · 2 months
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KICHEN 2Point0 :)
It’s been well over a year since the last Harlix collaboration, but we are happy to finally be able to announce the KICHEN 2Point0! It all started way back in 2019 with the original KICHEN, so we decided we wanted to bring it back full circle and finally focus back on our much-loved room of the home. A lot has changed over the past 4.5 years, not only in our own personal work but the multitude of custom content creators that also now create kitchens for your Sims. In 2019, there were slim pickings for your homes. Now, there is such a vibrant array of content to choose from, and it really is an excellent thing for all.
In the years that followed, we have really focused on improving our technical skills and artistry, which we hope you can see with this latest set. The stand-out item for us both in the original KICHEN was the wishbone chair. We have personally both tried to find another dining chair that tops it and failed miserably! It is just the perfect chair for use in so many different settings, whether it be modern or even a rustic setting; it’s just so versatile. It deserved an update to our latest techniques and colours & it’s the only item from the original KICHEN set that has been reworked for this newest iteration. Also, back in 2019 we were a little too scared to use our internal name for that item, but in 2024 we are happy to share the appropriately named WISHBONER chair with you 😆
The KICHEN 2Point0 is also designed to fit perfectly into our current Klean & Soho sets to fulfill the kitchen part. For some reason, we always seem to be in sync with our set themes, and no more so than with Klean & Soho. The overlap was very scary tbh, with many Pinterest pins selected independently but shared in common, so we decided to do this 2 part collaboration to create a kitchen to fit both of our current sets, with the hope of creating a much more in-depth set which includes all elements required to make your dream kitchen. This first part focuses on the foundations of that dream kitchen.
All items are Base Game compatible and can be found by searching the b/b catalogue using the keyword 2Point0. As the items are designed for both of our current sets, they will also appear when you search using the keywords KLEAN or SOHO.
Set Items include:
- Counter (raised with legs) - Counter (standard) - Island (raised with legs) - Island trolley (3 pieces) - Cabinets (short) - Cabinets (tall) - Appliance Cabinet - Fridge Nooks (high & low) - Built-in Sink (wide & standard) - Dining Table (1, 2 & 3 tile) - Wishboner Dining Chair - Shelving (multiple height endings, middle & standard end pieces) - Hanging Feature Pendant Lights (multiple variants)
Now on Patreon Early Access
Public release on the 7th of May
The collaboration will continue next month and focus on appliances and clutter for your kitchens.
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harrie-cc · 2 months
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Kichen 2Point0
It’s been well over a year since the last Harlix collaboration, but we are happy to finally be able to announce the KICHEN 2Point0! It all started way back in 2019 with the original KICHEN, so we decided we wanted to bring it back full circle and finally focus back onto our much loved room of the home. A lot has changed over the past 4.5 years, not only in our own personal work, but the multitude of custom content creators that also now create kitchens for your Sims. In 2019 it was slim pickings for your homes, now there is such a vibrant array of content to choose from and it really is a great thing for all.
In the years that followed we have really focused on improving our technical skills and artistry, which we hope you can see with this latest set. The stand out item for us both in original KICHEN was the wishbone chair. We have personally both tried to find another dining chair that tops it and fail miserably! It is just the perfect chair for use in so many different settings, whether it be modern or even a rustic setting, it’s just so versatile. It deserved an update to our latest techniques and colours & it’s the only item from the original KICHEN set that has been reworked for this latest iteration. Also back in 2019 we were a little too scared to use our internal name for that item, but in 2024 we are happy to share the appropriately named WISHBONER chair with you! 😆
The KICHEN 2Point0 is also designed to fit perfectly into our current Klean & Soho sets to fulfil the kitchen part. For some reason we always seem to be in sync with our set themes and no more so than with Klean & Soho. The overlap was very scary tbh with many Pinterest pins selected independently, but shared in common, so we decided to do this 2 part collaboration to create a kitchen to fit both of our current sets, with the hope of creating a much more in depth set which includes all elements required to make your dream kitchen. This first part focuses on the foundations of that dream kitchen.
All items are Base Game compatible and can be found by searching the b/b catalogue using the keyword 2Point0. As the items are designed for both of our current sets they will also show up when you search using the keywords KLEAN or SOHO
Set Items include:
Counter (raised with legs)
Counter (standard)
Island (raised with legs)
Island trolley (3 pieces)
Cabinets (short)
Cabinets (tall)
Appliance Cabinet
Fridge Nooks (high & low)
Built in Sink (wide & standard)
Dining Table (1, 2 & 3 tile)
Wishboner Dining Chair
Shelving (multiple height endings, middle & standard end pieces)
Hanging Feature Pendant Lights (multiple variants)
Now available on Patreon Early Access
Public Release: 7th May
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roseykat · 8 months
Text
TITLE: How they are when they cum
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SYNOPSIS: OT8 version of...the title x
WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate/monitor every single potential interaction with these posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.
TAGS: mentions/descriptions of orgasms, blowjobs, sex positions. Nothing too major.
A/N: Take this as a filler while I wrap up my post for Shutterfly Butterfly. I actually really enjoyed creating these blurbs and will do more in the future.
BANG CHAN
Groans and grunts. He’s pretty vocal in bed and on the very strong occasion where he cums as hard as he always does, he’ll announce it, and it’s the hottest thing ever. There’s nothing sexier than a man expressing how much pleasure they’re in through such an erotic thing. Usually his moans and incoherent words sound so panicked before he combusts inside of you, like he’s dying to cum but doesn’t want to yet so as to savour your warm, wet, heat wrapping around his cock. 
-
MINHO
Is gripping onto you when he cums. Whether it’s by digging his nails into the skin and flesh of your hips or ass, grabbing a fistful of your hair, groping your tits - he needs something to help him channel such a surge of pleasure when he orgasms. His moans are very breathy and very consistent. He won’t always announce that he’ll cum but you can tell when he does. If it’s not the warm load inside of you, it’ll be the silence he exudes that will give it away. For some reason, that’s how you can identify how hard he’s actually cumming. 
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CHANGBIN
Will not shut up, and you don’t want him to either. Every ounce of pleasure he gets from fucking you, sends him into another realm. But when he cums? A whole other level. The pleasure is out of his depth that it rattles throughout every cell in his body. His eyes will flutter, mouth slightly ajar for your name to spill out. When he cums, he also has the tendency to bury his face into your neck, depending on the position. Not because he’s ashamed, but because he just doesn’t know how to deal with the overwhelming waves of euphoria. 
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HYUNJIN
He will moan your name repeatedly and it’ll be in the most beautiful airy voice known to this earth. Sometimes he can be quiet but not intentionally. He’s just trying his best not to cum so quickly and feels that hearing his own moans mixed with yours will get him there faster when he actually wants to drag out how good he feels for as long as he can. He’ll mutter quietly to you against your lips that he’s ‘gonna cum’ and when he does, his forehead might rest on yours or he’s kissing you as he’s cumming, and he’s all flustered and rushed. 
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HAN
Whiny. Whiny as fuck and whimpers. He tries to stifle his moans with the back of his hand or maybe he’ll be biting down on your shoulder or something. But when you have both of his hands cuffed or pinned by the sides of his head when you ride him, he is the loudest, whiniest person in existence. You’ve even thought about gagging him, especially before he cums at least. He’s so prone to being overstimulated a lot and has most definitely cried before when you’ve made him orgasm. 
-
FELIX
Will most likely say to you “gonna make me cum,” every time the two of you have sex or you’re giving him head, right before he orgasms. He wants you to know that you’re the one unraveling his sanity for a good thirty seconds. Felix is vocal, loud, and almost borderline whiny. Despite having such a deep voice, his whimpers can be the complete opposite. It’s just a sign that he’s struggling to deal with so much pleasure that his body can possibly handle. 
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SEUNGMIN
Sometimes he might hold his breath when he cums because he is just in so much of a state of pleasure, his body doesn’t know how to react. Therefore, you might not always get sounds out of him - which is good because that’s how you know he’s cumming hard. If you’re perhaps giving him a blowjob, his head will tip back, voice lodged in his throat until he’s spilling white wherever you’ll let him. But in the few seconds after he cums, Seungmin is either swearing or moaning as well; most of the time, both.
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JEONGIN
Similar to most; moans a lot to a T. He can get sort of embarrassed by it even though you reassure him that it’s okay to express how good you feel in the moment, especially after you told him how much you like it. From there he’s become a bit more relaxed and now he won’t hold back. They’re sort of high pitched, but low and strained in some cases when he’s absolutely railing you. Will also breathe out “baby” over and over again as he approaches the edge of his orgasm.
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sagesolsticewrites · 2 months
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Hi! I’d like to request a John “Bucky” Egan fic where he tries several times to flirt with the reader, but the reader is super oblivious about it and just thinks he’s being nice. It becomes something everyone on base talks about and gets invested in. Maybe other people set up a scheme to get them together or make the reader realize how he feels. Idk, just something funny and cute like that ig 😁
Thank you so much for requesting, Nonnie, I’ve been having so much fun with these Masters of the Air requests! I loved getting to write for our best boy Bucky 🥰 Shoutout to @blurredcolour’s Trust fic (an absolute masterpiece, check it out y’all!) for helping with the writers block on this one 😅 (Reminder that requests are open! Feel free to check out some of my favorite prompt lists in my pinned post 😊)
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.
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Oblivious
“There’s my favorite nurse!”
You rolled your eyes at the phrase that announced John “Bucky” Egan’s every visit to sickbay.
“Hello, Major,” you said, turning to greet him with a mock-exasperated smile.
Bucky clutched a hand to his heart as if wounded, a hurt expression on his face. “How many times do I gotta tell you to call me Bucky, sweetheart?”
“At least a few more times, Major,” you reply, unable to hide a smile at the usual volley of friendly banter.
Major John Egan had been unusually friendly to you since the first moment he’d sauntered in to introduce himself to the medical staff as Air Exec. Your colleagues had blushed afterward and playfully insisted that he had paid you more attention than the others, but you just laughed and shook your head, insisting that he was just being nice.
This visit was simply another instance of Bucky being friendly to you; well, that and Harry Crosby’s airsickness had gotten the better of him again and he was checking up on the navigator.
You stepped aside as Bucky approached Harry’s cot, ready to update him on the goings-on since the last mission had returned.
He threw you a kind smile before perching on the stool next to Harry.
“How’s my girl treatin’ you, Crosby?”
Harry happily told him how the base had gotten a new shipment of airsickness pills and you had slipped him a spare box for his own personal use, and Bucky’s smile grew wider and wider.
You were glad to see how happy he was at the news that his friend was feeling better, and you quietly excused yourself to tend to the other patients.
Bucky sighed as you walked away.
“She still hasn’t picked up on it, huh?”
“No, Croz, she hasn’t.” sighed Bucky, “She thinks I’m just bein’… nice or friendly or something. Which I am!” He added hurriedly, “But I just…I like her so much. I wish she’d notice.”
“She will, buddy,” Harry replied, with a comforting pat on his friend’s hand, “She will.”
Bucky headed out after a few more minutes of conversation, giving you a wink and a smile as he walked past your station.
“Bucky visited again, huh?” Rebecca, one of your fellow nurses, sidled up next to you with a teasing grin.
“Yes, Major Egan came by to visit Lieutenant Crosby,” you replied, putting emphasis on their ranks.
“You’re sure that’s all he was here for? Somehow he never shows up here without an excuse to see you…”
“He’s just being nice, Becca,” you insisted, “You know how these soldier boys are.”
“But he’s always—”
“Becca,” you cut her off as gently as you can, “I really don’t wanna talk about this anymore.”
“Alright, alright,” she held her hands up in surrender, “Bucky is an off-limits topic, gotcha.”
The conversation turned to the current hot gossip, and you idly chimed in when it seemed appropriate, losing yourself in your routine tasks.
Rebecca broke off to check on Harry again, narrowing her eyes as she noticed Harry watching you.
“Something Nurse L/N can help you with, Crosby?”
He jumped, gaze darting to Rebecca as she approached.
“No ma’am, I just…”
He scrambled to think of some excuse, but all he could come up with was: “I’m trying to think of some way to get Y/N to notice Bucky!”
Rebecca blinked in surprise, then plopped down onto the stool next to his bed, leaning in conspiratorially.
“Oh thank goodness it’s not just me! He’s been at it for months but the poor girl’s just so oblivious…”
“I keep telling him to just talk to her like a normal person, but he insists on dancing around it!” Harry instantly agreed, glad to have someone besides Jean to talk to about this. “He’s been so distracted lately. If he doesn’t do something soon, I’m worried it might start to affect his flying.”
Rebecca pressed her lips into a thin line, twisting a strand of hair worriedly.
After a few moments of quiet, she spoke up again, green eyes sparkling with mischief.
“I’ve got an idea.”
———
“Hey Bucky,” Harry said at breakfast the next morning, “I’m gonna pop down to the infirmary to visit Winks, wanna come with?”
Bucky quickly agreed— he’d been meaning to check on Winks yesterday as well as Croz, but got caught up in… well, you.
As they entered, Bucky made a beeline for Winks while Harry caught Rebecca’s eye and gave a subtle nod, which she returned, signaling her part of the plan was complete.
She had removed the step stool you always used from one of the supply closets, now hidden under one of the cots nearby. When you weren’t able to reach something on one of the higher shelves, well…
Good thing Bucky was so tall.
“Y/N, would you mind grabbing some more bandages for me? My station’s running low.”
“Sure thing, Becca!” You called, stepping away from your current station to check the supply closet.
“Becca…” your confused voice called from the closet, “Do you know where the stepstool went?”
“It’s not there?” She called back, sounding equally confused. “Let’s see, um…”
She scanned the room, putting on a good show of looking for someone who could help.
“Oh, Bucky! Would you mind helping Nurse L/N grab something from the supply closet for me?”
“No problem, Becca,” came his reply, accompanied with his trademark winning smile as he nodded to Winks and made his way over to the supply closet.
It was much smaller than he’d anticipated, and barely half a foot was all that separated you as he asked, “Alright, what do ya need, sweethea—”
The pet name was cut off by the sound of the supply closet door closing.
And locking.
You lunged for the handle as Bucky reached up to turn on the single lightbulb, both of you calling out in confusion.
“Becca! What?”
“C’mon, guys, this isn’t funny!”
Harry’s voice came through the door, clear and determined.
“Just tell her how you feel, Bucky! Your tactic clearly isn’t working!”
“I— what?” You turned to Bucky, hoping he knew what in the world they were talking about.
Bucky hesitated, but seeing as it seemed he had no choice…
“Well this isn’t… exactly how I wanted to do it, but…” He took a deep breath, twisting his fingers together in an uncharacteristic display of anxiety, “I really like you, doll. I’ve liked you since I first laid eyes on you. And I’ve tried every way I know how to tell you, but nothin’ worked, so…” He gestured around at the supply closet, “I guess it came to this? Which wasn’t my idea, by the way. Just for the record. I would never…”
His voice faltered, and you realized just how close you were to him. You didn’t remember moving forward. You were just suddenly there, so close the two of you were almost breathing each other’s air.
“You… you like me?”
Bucky couldn’t help but laugh at that.
“Doll, you think I call every pretty girl workin’ here my favorite nurse?”
You flushed at the compliment.
“I thought you were just being nice, I didn’t…”
“I mean, I was bein’ nice,” He said with a shrug, grinning, “Just not quite in the way you were thinking.”
Bucky’s eyes flicked down to your mouth, and being this close to you, he couldn’t hide the bob of his throat as he swallowed nervously.
“I’d, uh. I’d really like to kiss you right now, if that’s alright with you, sweetheart.”
You nodded slowly, “I think I’d really like that, Major Egan.”
“It’s Bucky, sweetheart,” he murmured softly as he leaned in, capturing your lips.
You may or may not have spent more than a few lonely nights in your bunk imagining what it would be like to kiss Major John Egan.
Your imaginings were nothing compared to reality.
This was magic unlike anything you could have dreamed.
Your arms wound around his neck as his wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. You toyed with the dark curls at the nape of his neck as he slanted his mouth against yours, deepening the kiss. Needing to be closer, you tried to step towards him, but merely succeeded in pressing him back against the shelves.
Ordinarily you would apologize, but something like a thrill ran up your spine when you felt him grin into the kiss as his back hit the shelves, knocking rolls of bandages and boxes of gauze onto the floor.
His right hand moved to cup your cheek, keeping your lips connected as his other hand splayed across your back, pulling you impossibly closer as you arched into him.
You could still feel him grinning as he murmured against your lips, “Knew you were feisty under that good girl act.”
“Bucky,” you whined softly as he pulled away from you, chest heaving.
“Oh, now she uses my name,” he teased breathlessly, bumping his nose playfully against yours.
The two of you flinched as sunlight spilled into the dim closet, a harsh change from the dingy yellow lightbulb you had become accustomed to.
Harry and Rebecca stood in the doorway, wearing twin smug grins.
“Looks like our work here is done,” Becca said, shooting you a wink as she bid farewell to Harry with a two-fingered salute, “Pleasure working with you, Lieutenant Crosby.”
“Same to you, Nurse Carter,” Harry replied, and he turned back to the two of you, a genuine smile on his face.
“About time, Bucky.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky waved off his friend’s I told you so, “You gonna congratulate me or what?”
“Congratulations,” came Harry’s mock-put-out reply, accompanied by a genuinely congratulatory clap on his arm. “You got a good one. And it only took months of unsuccessful flirting—”
“Hey, I got her in the end, didn’t I?” He squeezed you closer, grinning down at you.
Your lipstick was all over his mouth, and you’re sure the Victory Red on your own lips was in no better shape.
You couldn’t bring yourself to care, however, as he pulled you in for a tender kiss.
Which you broke for a moment to point out, “He isn’t wrong, you know, it was months of unsuccessful—”
Your teasing was promptly cut off with a “shush” mumbled against your lips as Bucky silenced you with a kiss.
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aidaronan · 2 months
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Microfic; Macropenis
Another @steddiemicrofic March for "pin" || 388 Words || Explicit Warnings & Tags: sex under the influence of drugs/alcohol, Eddie has a big dick
"I mean, you've heard about him, right?" Tommy asked.
"Eddie Munson?" Steve looked to where Eddie was balanced on a lunch table, orating about the unfairness of funding for the arts versus sports. "About how he deals?"
"No, everyone knows that. About how he's, like, this total and complete freakazoid obviously, but he's packing serious heat."
"Um?"
"Huge dick," Carol said, putting her finger in her mouth and making an obscene pop. "But he won't let anybody see it. I've tried."
"Uh…?" Steve looked back and forth between her and Tommy.
"Don't be such a prude, Steve," she said. "Tommy knew. It was pure espionage. Plus I was trying to score us free weed. I get pinned, we get pot, ya know?"
None of that really made Steve feel any less floored, but he let it go, looking back to Eddie instead. Steve was, of course, unable to keep himself from looking at Eddie's crotch. It looked fairly normal as far as Steve could tell. No massive bulge or anything. Just denim being denim.
Still, Steve couldn't let it go. Lunch ended, then the day ended, then the week, the month.
A party rolled around, Munson announcing his wares to the whole assembly like a merchant traveling town to town in some medieval flick. "Hear ye, hear ye!"
Somehow, Steve ended up alone with him on the front porch, both of them getting some fresh air while the party raged in the house and the backyard.
"Is it true?" Steve asked, floating high on beer and Eddie's star product.
"Is what true?"
"That you have, like, a horse dick."
Eddie spat beer all over his own shoes but quickly recovered, wiping his face with his sleeve.
"Why?" he asked. "You aiming to find out, Big Boy?"
Steve glanced behind him as though there might be someone there, but there was no one. "And if I was?"
Which was how he found himself pinned in the back of Eddie's van, one knee shoved up, Eddie easing inside of him inch by massive inch.
In that confined space, high and buzzed, the world felt soft as cotton. And Eddie felt…
"Well?" Eddie asked, brow sweaty as he pumped his hips. Steve's mouth hung open in uninhibited pleasure, come spurting out onto his belly.
"Yeah," Steve rasped. "Yeah, it's pretty big."
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lady-ashfade · 2 months
Text
Blood And Pressure
Part one
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Yandere!Pjo x Fem!Grisha!reader. (Platonic Yandere gods) (romantic!various characters)
-♡ Chapters: Previous // Next
-♡ characters: Percy Jackson, Luke Castellan, Clarisse La Rue, Grover Underwood, Annabeth Chase.
-♡ this is a shadow & bone slight crossover. Reader is a heartrender and that’s all really (maybe more in the future!)
-♡ Please note that all characters are aged appropriately, so all characters are older versions of the book characters. So 17-19 characters for these, you can choose any of them really. Just that they are older teens.
-♡ warnings: short, yandere behaviors, obsession, stalking, slightly sick love, possessive, manipulative, gaslighting, platonic yandere too, blood powers, powerful powers but not godly, and future warnings when more chapters come out.
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No one knew the power you held when you entered camp. You stayed in The Big House at camp with Mr.D and many of the campers knew nothing but a few things when you walked by. You were a person of few words but spoke in glances, or at least to them you were.
You spent your days talking to Mr. D and Chiron since they didn’t like you to leave the house or their side.
“It’s just too dangerous to be around the little kids,” Chiron talks ever so soft to you.
“I mean, I don’t care if you hurt them or not but they know nothing of you— we barely know anything of your kind. So you stay with us.” He was a bit harsher when it came to you but he was also fun to be around.
No one noticed when you’d glance into a room while a patient was sick and in bed. And no one knew you visited Percy too.
You heard whispers when he arrived and wanted to check him out for yourself. His heart was beating fine and healthy but a little to high for your liking. He was having a nightmare and you could calm him down.
When you placed your hands together and calmed his heart, then his eyes open just a bit. He remembers seeing annabeth but you were new. You wore dark red and silver clothes making him wonder about you, you almost looked like royalty to him…and your beautiful.
“Sleep percy,” As soon as you spoke he was out like a light as you controlled his body and decreased the anxiety he felt. You wanted to stay there and help him but you knew you could get caught at anytime so you left. He wasn’t the only one you helped, and he wouldn’t be the last.
Another day you found yourself playing cards with Mr. D, he got too angry at you beating him that he took a break. He rests his eyes while you read a book, a very old and run down book but you refused to let it go. And that’s when the boy you helped walked in with confusion on his faces.
It was your favorite part to see someone new get welcomed.
Percy seemed to not notice you at first when his announce stayed on the god you knew, obviously he wasn’t aware of who he was talking to…and when he did he didn’t seem to care either. After a few minutes of them talking, he finally noticed you as you flip the page of your book.
“What are you looking at her for?” Mr. D tried to pull his attention away from you but he just kept staring.
“You…you were in my room that night.”
You shake your head and sit back under the gods suspicious glare. “No, no. Must have me mistaken.”
“I recognize that pin on your jacket, it was definitely you.”
“Okay kid, that’s enough now got get me that wine.” He snaps his fingers and Percy finally turns his gaze. Thankfully Chiron got there in time before Percy fell for his trick.
Percy was getting to explore the camp, train and fight and win glory. You hated how tight your at stomach got in jealousy of him. You’ve been here for two years and yet you haven’t stepped off the porch of the big house.
You stood up from your chair causing them all to turn to you. You slammed your hands on the table and started to demand that you would be going with them. You’ve had enough.
“I wanna see things too. Just for once let me see the camp, it’s cruel to keep me here.”
“You know the rules, you stay here!” Mr. D was always the one to fight with you when you threw your fits.
“Your rules suck! Let me go on the tour!” Your voice was so loud percy thought that the whole camp could hear you. Your final hope was to look at Chiron with begging eyes since he was so easy to guilt.
And like every time. He caves.
“Maybe we should. They have shown no signs of hurting anyone and it would be good to get a bit of fresh air, stretch their legs.” He tried to reason with him. You begged and prayed in your mind for it to work.
“Fine— whatever. But if anyone so mush as touc-” he was cut off by you squealing and hugging him. He was caught of guard since you’ve never do that before. He felt pride, the other gods wanted you to come to Olympus or the underworld but he got you. No one could take the smirk on his face.
Percy was happy to see you smile. It caused his mood to lighten greatly and he didn’t really know why but you seemed so familiar to him. Like he’d do anything to keep you smiling, to hold your hand…
“Come along, we have a lot to explore.” You both trail behind the centaur to take on the new adventure. Maybe this was fate.
You didn’t know it but many eyes would begin to follow you everywhere.
Next chapter
-No Taglist because idk of people want this to be tagged in (I will add you if you ask! Just my normal ones I don’t wanna spam them with notifications if they don’t want this)
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venus-haze · 10 months
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She's Out To Please, She Pouts Her Best (Soldier Boy x Reader)
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Summary: Soldier Boy’s been pulled from the European Theater to sell war bonds to the American people, the goodwill tour dotted by big cities and small towns alike. In the meantime, he gets familiar with the variety of women in dazzling costumes that accompany his speeches with carefully choreographed dances. You’re, without a doubt, his favorite of them all.
Note: Female (blink and you’ll miss it implied plus size) reader, but no other descriptors are used. This fic is so short because it’s pretty much PWP. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 2k
Warnings: Dressing room sex, mirrors, breeding kink, daddy kink, power imbalance, overstimulation, implied baby trapping. Do not interact if you’re under 18.
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Chattering from the packed high school auditorium somehow seeped through the walls. The rural town that was the latest stop in Soldier Boy’s war bond drive had shown up en masse out of patriotism or sheer curiosity. Usually both. Electricity was always in the air before the show in small towns. Some of them didn’t even have movie theaters. 
You and the other dancers on the tour had set up camp in one of the bigger classrooms, using it to get ready in since it was near one of the bathrooms. Dresses, sequins, and makeup scattered about the room, making the place of learning look like a department store had exploded inside. You’d been helping another girl with the curlers in her hair until a masculine voice called out your name from the doorway.
“Soldier Boy wants to see you in his dressing room.”
You nodded, giving an apologetic look to your colleague, who waved you off. It wasn’t unusual for Soldier Boy to call on one of you to help him “warm up” before the shows. Lately, however, he’d almost exclusively been asking for you, to the detriment of your jaw. 
Grabbing a nearby tube of red lipstick, you hastily applied it in the illuminated mirror in front of you. The lipstick residue soon adorned a tissue that you discarded, and you used your fingertips to gently massage the muscles in your face in preparation for taking him again. You hoped you’d at least get to come this time.
A flyer had gotten you to this point, stark white with patriotic motifs, pinned to a board in the nightclub you had been working in prior to getting the gig. Uncle Sam declared, “Ladies, you can serve your country too!” You figured why not, there was a war on, and if you could do something to help, you might as well. 
Your qualifications led you to your local USO office, where you were handed a star-spangled outfit and joined a gaggle of other girls to be the supporting act on Soldier Boy’s war bonds tour across the country. At times, you felt silly, kicking and shimmying to audiences who were clearly only putting up with the opener just to catch a glimpse at the world’s first superhero. A man larger than life in every sense of the word, as you and your fellow dancers on the tour would learn.
Wandering the hallway, you checked each door for an indication of which commandeered classroom was his. Not one for subtlety, his dressing rooms always had ‘SOLDIER BOY’ printed in large letters, declaring his presence. You found the sign toward the end of the hall, giving a smile to the usual group of people who congregated around him, assistants and handlers to keep him on schedule.
You knocked on the door, announcing your arrival. 
“You wanted to see me, sir?” you asked when he opened the door. 
He smiled, putting his hand on your lower back as he ushered you inside. “Sure did, sweetheart.”
His dressing room always betrayed his vices—alcohol, drugs, porno mags. It didn’t faze you anymore, not like the first time he asked for you, a stuttering mess in his presence. Back then, you had to take a shot with him to settle your nerves enough to blow him without feeling too self-conscious. Now, it was routine. You moved to get on your knees, but he stopped you, to your confusion. 
Instead, he disarmed you with a passionate kiss that nearly knocked you over. You steadied yourself on his strong arms that had made their home near your hips. He squeezed them, pulling you closer so your body was flush against his as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. 
You let him take the lead, he always did—strong, masculine, hard-working. Wasn’t America lucky its hero was easy on the eyes too? Except he had a temper, a mean streak that could go for miles. Not that you’d ever been on the receiving end of it. No, for all his faults, you seemed to get the best of Soldier Boy.
“I’ve been thinking about you,” he whispered against your lips.
“You have?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. You’re—“ he paused, searching for the word he wanted to use, “special to me.”
You weren’t sure why he was laying it on so thick. It wasn’t your first rodeo with him. “Special?”
“‘Course you are. You wouldn't be here if you weren’t,” he said. “I wanna try something different today, alright, doll?”
“Alright,” you agreed softly.
He smiled. “That’s my girl.”
Your body came alive at his praise, and you pressed your lips to his for another kiss. He guided your body backward until you bumped into the vanity. Parting his lips from yours, he turned you around, bending you over it so you were face to face with yourself in the mirror. 
You looked at him from the reflection, brows furrowed as you wondered what he was doing. 
He leaned down, voice husky in your ear as he growled, “I want you to see how pretty you look when you come.”
Your eyes widened, and you grabbed either side of the vanity in preparation, to his amusement. He pressed a kiss to the back of your neck as he pushed up your shimmery skirt, exposing your red, satin panties, specially made to be on display. Soon, your panties were around your heeled feet, one of his hands reaching to play with your clit while the other squeezed one of your breasts through your top.
“We look good together, don’t you think, sweetheart?” he asked, intense gaze studying your reactions.
“Y-Yes,” you moaned, trying to keep your eyes open. 
He always wanted you to look at him. From your knees when you were sucking him off, when he’d be standing on the side of the stage during your act, in his hotel rooms when he couldn’t find local girls to fuck around with. This instance was different, though, able to really see him, and yourself. You didn’t find your glassy gaze or parted lips particularly flattering, but he couldn’t seem to get enough.
His fingers had already brought you close to climax, and you whined when he pulled them away from you for a moment to free his hard cock from his pants. You shuddered, feeling it on your skin before he guided it in your pussy. Your hands curled around the vanity you were bracing yourself on. You weren’t sure if you’d get used to how his cock seemed to split you apart every time.
One of his arms wrapped just below your chest to hold you up, as you struggled to support yourself when he started pounding into you. Your pussy was already wet and pliant for him, and you'd be embarrassed by the obscene squelching sounds if you weren't so focused on getting off when he had brought you so close to the edge already.
You were your own voyeur, your brain feeling like it was going to melt, watching yourself getting fucked by him. His superhuman strength always caught you off guard, from the first time he shocked you by lifting you above his head on stage for a roaring crowd to the way he could make your body feel—and look—like you were little more than a ragdoll. 
“Gonna put a baby in you,” he grunted as he thrust into you, items falling from the vanity and onto the floor at the force he used to fuck you. “Want you up on that stage with my cum leaking out every time you kick up those legs—fuck—you’re mine.”
Your pussy clenched around him at the vulgar image he conjured up. “Yours daddy.”
His voice was strained, words slurring together. He was close. “‘S right, baby. Keep fuckin’ you ‘till you make me one. You like takin’ daddy’s dick, don’t you?”
You had to force the short affirmation out of your mouth, pleasure’s chokehold creeping up on you. That wasn’t enough for him or his ego.
“I wanna hear you say it.”
“I love taking—oh fuck—taking your dick, daddy.”
He came, hard and sloppy as your pussy milked his cock. You cried out, feeling so full it almost started to hurt. Something in you finally snapped, releasing the pain and pressure as you rode out your orgasm on his softening cock. Your arms gave out from under you so that it was just his strength holding you up. You weren’t sure how you’d be able to go back to having sex with men who weren’t well-endowed superheroes. Go back to faking it, you supposed.
Your throat was sore. You hadn’t paid attention to how loud you were being. Everyone outside the room must’ve known what was happening if they didn’t have an idea when you first showed up looking for him. 
Soldier Boy pulled himself out of you, and you could hear fabric rustling and the sound of his zipper again. You didn’t bother trying to stand up, still needing time to catch your breath. 
He used his fingers to swipe up some of his cum that had begun dripping out of you, causing you to gasp at the slight sensation of them brushing against your pussy. You whimpered when he pushed his index and middle fingers inside you, already aching from the orgasm he’d just pulled from you. 
“I—I can’t—“
‘I can’t get pregnant and ruin my career,’ you wanted to say, but all that came from your lips was a desperate, animalistic moan.
“I got you, baby,” Soldier Boy whispered, voice low and husky in your ear. “Give me one more so it sticks.”
You choked on air as his thumb brushed your clit, rubbing circles in the sensitive bundle of nerves. His fingers pushed deeper, and your hips bucked at the overstimulation, your spent pussy reactively pulsing around his cum-slicked fingers that curled inside you.
The woman staring back at you in the mirror was a mess with her mascara stained cheeks and smeared lipstick. You were utterly unrecognizable as you came again, harder on his fingers this time, crying out as you gripped the edge of the vanity, threatening to break one of your manicured nails. 
“Good girl,” he praised, pressing kisses to your cheek, as you came down from your second orgasm, pulling his hand from between your legs. “You alright?”
“I think so,” you breathed. “Jesus Christ.”
Your legs felt like jelly beneath you, and you wondered how the hell you were going to be able to dance in less than half an hour. You’d have to reapply all of your makeup too.
He turned you around, looking at you with a brief fondness before kissing your lips, soft and quick. 
“I need to fix my face,” you breathed.
He smiled. “Why? You look great.” 
You laughed softly as he gave you space. You pulled up your panties from around your ankles, knowing his cum would stain them by the time you made it back to the dancers’ makeshift dressing room. Taking some of the tissues from the box on top of the vanity, you began wiping your ruined makeup from your face. He stared at you in silence from the spot he’d taken on the loveseat that’d been brought in for him.
“I think I’d be a good father. Better than my old man,” he said finally.
You paused, looking at him from the mirror, giving him a sardonic smile. “I don’t see you as the settling down type.”
“Maybe I just need a woman worth coming home to.”
“Maybe,” you echoed.
“C’mere.”
You obliged, joining him on the loveseat. He wrapped an arm around you, holding you close. You let yourself bask in the intimacy.
“Things aren’t always gonna be like this,” he said. “Once the war’s over, what’re you gonna do? Go back to dancing in nightclubs?”
“Why not?”
His jaw clenched, cheek twitching as he pulled his gaze from you. “I don’t want you doing this for anyone but me.”
This could have been any number of things, dancing, fucking, being at his beck and call. Knowing him, he meant all of it.
“Ben,” you said, grabbing his attention, “then you have to tell me what you do want.”
“I want you. I want the white picket fence, kids running around the yard with the dog,” he said, the intensity in his voice wrapping tendrils around your mind, pulling you into the world he was describing. “I want dinner to burn ‘cause I was busy putting another baby in you when I got home.”
“Oh,” you whispered.
A voice through the door startled you. “Soldier Boy, the mayor’s here to see you!” 
“Think about it,” Soldier Boy said, getting up from the loveseat to grab his helmet and shield. 
The door shut behind him, leaving you to agonize over the future he presented to you. Part of you wondered if you’d really have a choice.
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