#pants so flared they look like a skirt in certain positions...

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hey Raven, i wanted to ask: Do you think if Silver was born as a girl that Lilia would have raised him differently? Basically, i wonder how Lilia would raise a girl.

What do you think..?

I really don't think Lilia would have raised a daughter any differently than a son. Starting out as a parent, Lilia had a hard time grasping the needs of a human child and how they differ from that of a fae child. For example, he wouldn't worry when infant Silver slipped out of his cradle (expecting Silver to come back on his own) and presently still tends to babies by feeding them milk not in a nippled bottle but from a regular cup. His primary concern, then, would mainly be on learning these nuances between human and fae rather than being concerned with male or female (the former being a far greater distinction than the latter).

Lilia and Silver's lifestyle would be the same, regardless of what Silver's sex is. He (or she) would still be in a position where they have to deal with a father that is messy and cannot cook well, which puts Silver in a situation where they have to grow up quickly to take care of Lilia and himself (when Lilia is away on his travels). This would probably result in a very similar personality forming for fem!Silver--someone who is diligent, reserved, and devoted to Lilia. I'm certain that Lilia would also still train Silver as a knight. I don't see him as the type of person who would perceive women as weak or helpless, nor do I see him discouraging a woman from being able to fight. After all, he knows and is close with two extremely powerful women (Meleanor and Maleficia) who could easily strike HIM down if they wanted to. Lilia laughs at the suggestion that his princess is a damsel in distress and is quick to correct others by informing them that maybe their princesses are like that, but his is not. Sure, that comes down to the Draconia blood making Meleanor powerful beyond the average mage--but what reason would Lilia have to deny Silver the same opportunity to gain the strength to protect others, just as Meleanor and Maleficia have for their own family and people? The fear of potentially losing Silver? But isn't it more dangerous to not let Silver have a fighting chance at all? That’s what I think, at least.

Finally, when it comes to things like "looking feminine" or "looking masculine", Lilia himself has always toed that line. In fact, he usually has the most feminine or flamboyant looks of Diasomnia. The most immediate example I can think of is his dorm uniform in which he proudly wears an oversized coat to give the appearance of being small and cute, and having tons of ruffles and a skirt-like flare to his pants. Lilia also often confidently brags about how "cute" he is and takes great pride in that cuteness. I'd imagine that he encourages Silver to dress how he likes, sex or gender be damned, so long as Silver feels his best. And Silver, being Silver, would probably just dress as usual Silver does, in something serious and practical rather than something "stylish".

I feel like the only thing that would really change is Silver not being able to attend NRC. (Well... unless it's a situation where fem!Silver attends anyway but is passing as a guy because of how androgenous she is.)

#twst #twisted wonderland #Lilia Vanrouge #Silver #Meleanor Draconia #Maleficia Draconia #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #book 7 spoilers #notes from the writing raven #question #twst au #twisted wonderland au #au #twst genderbend #twisted wonderland genderbend

[trans-xianxian]

you've heard of skirt lan wangji now get ready for incredibly flared pants lan wangji

#pants so flared they look like a skirt in certain positions... #soon you'll all see what I'm fucking talking about #ghost posts #text #lwj

[hualianff]

Thrift Shoppers

BY and PX are out shopping at a thrift store. PX waits for BY to try clothes on to show him her outfits. He sees another man lounged on the only couch near the dressing rooms. The man’s long hair is tied back into a long braid, an eyepatch on his right eye.

When BY comes out in her first several outfits, PX isn’t sure how to give an opinion. He’s not stylistic by any means and mostly wears what his mother recommends. (PX comes from a well-off household, only the luxury brands are acceptable.)

As BY goes back into the dressing room with minimal comments from PX, the man with the eyepatch speaks up.

“If you want to be invited to go shopping with your girlfriend in the future, you’re going to have to put in more effort than that,” he says.

PX blanches.

“S-she’s not my girlfriend,” he stutters. The unspoken “yet” hangs in the air.

“But you want her to be,” the stranger says knowingly.

PX deflates a bit.

“Is it that obvious?” He asks. The man clicks his tongue, giving PX a side-eye.

“To her, probably not. At most, you’re giving her three-syllable answers when she asks for your opinion—which she clearly values,” he informs idly.

“I’m not the most knowledgeable with fashion,” PX admits.

The other man now gives him a once-over. “Hmm, I wouldn’t say that. But let me help with the next one.”

The sound of the dressing door opens, but it’s the door to the left of BY’s. Out steps another man in light-wash jeans and a pink knitted sweater.

“San Lang, what do you think of this one?”

“Gege, come a bit closer,” the eye-patched man responds. PX watches with interest as it seems the men had come shopping together. “Hmm, I really like the shade of the sweater. Is it comfortable?”

“Very!” The other man answers, holding his arms out to the side and wiggling happily. PX notices how the collar scoops low enough to expose his collar bones.

Was this considered the latest style?

PX sneaks a glance at the eye-patched man and sees that though his shirt isn’t revealing, it’s incredibly tight. The sheer fabric stretches tightly upon a wide chest, leaving little to the imagination of what is underneath.

PX shakes those certain thoughts out of his head. He tears his eyes away from both men who stand quite close to each other now. The eye-patched man, who PX now seems as “San Lang,” assesses his partner’s pants.

“Can Gege turn around in a circle?”

The other man complies, slow and practiced.

“The pants look a bit tight, but Gege likes them like this, right?”

“Hmm, yes. They’re fine back here-“ the man in the sweater gestures to his backside, which impressively fills out the pants. “-but if I squat down-“

He bends his knees and squats down. Both men on the couch widen their eyes in concern as strong, thick quad muscles bulge the fabric of the pants—threatening to rip at the seams.

“Okay, ahahahah, these are definitely too tight then,” the man says as he quickly stands up. “I’ll try on the next pair.”

He shoots his partner a grateful smile before rushing back into the dressing room.

PX blinks in realization.

So this was the correct way to give one’s opinion about another’s style of clothes? Not that SL was overly critical with his words, but he served as a second pair of eyes that aided his partner to a decision about the clothes.

“Don’t overthink it. Provide compliments, ask questions, and give feedback that you think will be helpful,” SL suggests, spreading his legs as he leans back into the couch.

PX, sitting with a straight back and proper leg position, vaguely thinks he needs to relax a bit.

Before PX can respond, BY’s dressing room door opens up. She steps out in a high-waisted plaid skirt reaching mid-thigh and a white crop-top that accentuates her build nicely.

PX tries to swallow but ends up choking on his spit. Out of the corner of his eye, PX sees the other man duck his head into his hand.

“Pull it together, man,” PX tells himself.

“Pei-ge, how does this look?” BY prompts, doing a cute little twirl so the skirt flares out.

“You look…beautiful,” PX honestly says. He couldn’t find any other words besides beautiful because that’s directly where PX’s mind goes when it comes to BY. He thinks she could even make a burlap sack look great.

(Also, not @ how he complimented BY herself in the clothes instead of the clothes.)

“Thank you! I wasn’t sure if the top would fit to cover enough, but I think it looks good,” BY says enthusiastically. She peers at herself in the full-body length mirrors, then turns back to PX. “I’ll definitely get the skirt. I’m going to try on a few more tops with it.”

BY reaches for the dressing room door handle, but before she can open it, PX manages to sneak in one last comment.

“The black shirt, you know, the one with the long sleeves, I think it would look really good with that skirt,” PX says tentatively.

Except as soon as he says those words, he meekly shuts his mouth. What if BY thinks his suggestions are weird? Or he’s being too pushy?

Don’t get him wrong, PX doesn’t care about his pushiness with anyone else other than BY. With BY, PX would like to be equals. He would never want to force his opinions or make her feel like her own opinions and choices don’t matter.

However, BY’s eyes light up as she takes in PX’s comment.

“That sounds perfect. I’ll try on that one next.” She exclaims. “Thank you, Pei-ge!”

As soon as the door closes, SL gives him an approving look.

“That was better. Giving feedback shows that you’re engaged in your time together. It makes the shopping experience more enjoyable for both of you. Even if it’s not your thing,” SL says.

“Right…” PX mutters.

“And don’t worry, you’ll learn to function with that crush of yours,” SL continues. “I’ve been doing it for years.”

Meanwhile, in the dressing rooms right by each other…

“Hua Lao Shi? How was that?” BY whispers through the thin wall.

“He definitely sounded winded…you probably took his breath away with your beauty,” XL whispers back, feeling like a proud father. “Keep it up.”

BY is a sophomore at the college XL teaches at. She took XL’s beginning environmental science course in freshman year and is currently in his advanced sustainability elective. BY loves XL’s methods of teaching; she hopes to become XL’s TA next year.

BY had run into XL on the way to the dressing rooms. After telling her professor about the guy she’s shopping with and hoping to date, XL suggests they get dressing rooms beside each other. That way, he can guide her in assessing whether PX is romantically interested in her.

PX, who is in a completely different school, didn’t recognize XL or his partner. XL had texted HC about BY’s simulation beforehand. HC, content to coach this child in proper etiquette when shopping with anyone you care about, sneaks a confirming glance at XL as he walks back after another mini-catwalk.

XL and HC know these two will be just fine.

Bonus:

(HC: “Gege, I may have…a crush on you.” 🥺

XL: “San Lang, we’ve been together for eight years, married for five.”

HC: 🥺

XL: “I have a crush on you too.” 😇)

#tgcf #heaven official's blessing #hualian #peiyue #hualian au #peiyue au #ban yue #pei xiu #hua cheng #xie lian #cerdrabbles #slice of life #thrift shopping

[adsosfraser]

The Stone’s Toll - Chapter Nine

Read on AO3

Jamie woke that morning, to his wife tangled around him. The singular thing driving him was between his legs. He kissed her neck and tugged at her skin with a sharp sting. Claire stirred and smiled up at him. Gathering her bottom lip between his teeth, his hands meandered down her shoulders, to the slope of her breasts, to her abdomen, and finally lifted the plump piece of flesh that he loved so much. 

 “Is this real? Are you real?” 

 “Would I do this if I was only a dream Sassenach?” He pinched the backside of her arse and grinned. She yelped in response and swatted his fingers away from the now stinging flesh. 

“You’re real.” She smiled and placed her palms on either side of his jaw. 

 “I’ll prove just how real enough I am lass.” He smirked and moved his hands away from her backside, further down to cup between her legs. 

 “Jamie. Stop.” Claire panted out. 

 “Have I hurt ye, Claire?” He immediately pulled away, hovering over her and softly brushing her sides. 

 “No, but there are some things I need to tell you… before we’re intimate.” 

 “Is this about Frank?”

 “What? No! Why on earth would you be thinking about him?” 

 “Well did ye?-” 

 “Once. But I didn’t encourage it.” Her lips tightened into a line. “This isn’t what I wanted to talk about Jamie.” 

 Before he could eek out a livid response, Claire jumped out of the bed towards the corner of the room. Pulling out a small silver box inside her leather bag, she plucked out a dome-shaped cup. She had two more tucked away in the small metal tin. Her hands then grabbed purchase of a small vial within her medicine bag. The objects flew onto the bed and she plopped down next to Jamie. 

 “This,” she pointed to the vial, “is a concoction of fennel and posies.”

 Jamie had grabbed the odd rubber cup and rolled it between his fingers. Claire swatted it out of his hands a little annoyed at her husband’s dirty fingernails; she would have to clean it again. 

 “And this,” she waved the small cup in front of his eyes, “is a diaphragm. Some call it a ‘womb veil’. These are all forms of birth control.” 

 “Birth… control?” He rolled out the syllables in his last word. 

 “Yes, preventative measures to avoid pregnancy.” 

 “Christ, ye would kill a bairn!” He immediately regretted his words as his wife recoiled and her eyes betrayed the hurt inside of her. 

 “No, because there would be none in the first place. It stops the sperm- seed from ever even getting into a woman to create the baby in the first place.” 

 “But surely God-” He spoke more softly. 

 “Would want me to use it.” Tears pricked at her eyes. “Jamie I’m not… I’m not ready.” Jamie shifted to hold his wife closer as the atmosphere changed from playful to sombre. “I couldn’t go through that again to not have my baby in my arms. I truly think it would kill me, it almost did.” 

 His heart softened at her admission and he knew he would do whatever would make her safe and happy, even if it meant a life of celibacy. But he hoped to God it would never come to that.

 “I dinna want ye to bear another child. I wouldna risk your loss Sassenach.” Jamie carefully pulled a curl away from her eye. “Not for a dozen bairns. We’ve Fergus and our nephew and nieces- weans enough. And our two beautiful lasses are wi’ God. So,” he paused to blink away the moisture in his eyes and swallow down the tightness of his throat, “if this wee diaphragm,” he rolled the word around his tongue, ”and posy is what’ll help ye I’ll gladly pick it fer you every day if that’s your wish.” 

 He picked up the diaphragm from her hands again, inspecting it more closely. “How does this wee thing work?” 

 “Well, I place it inside me so it covers my cervix, it should rest comfortably against my pubic bone.” 

 “Ye put that… inside ye?” He was completely disturbed by the thought. 

 “It’s not like there hasn’t been anything in there before, and I’d dare say it was even larger than that ‘wee thing’.” She grabbed a healthy hold of him to emphasise her point. 

 “Aye, that it is.” He looked down with pride and she rolled her eyes at him, but couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. 

 “I’ll have to take the herbs one more week, to be safe. Can you wait for me?” 

 “I’d wait forever if it came to it, fer ye Sassenach, always.” 

 “Well, and we can always do other things.” She flipped Jamie to his back and her head travelled down his body to the curls nestled atop his pubic bone. “So long as you don’t, ‘spill your seed’ inside of me. Well inside my-” 

 He expressed his agreement with a loud grunt. 

 Six days later, Jamie was practically jumping in his skin with anticipation. He had gone back to the cave, much to Claire’s dismay. Instructing her to stay at Lallybroch, he wasn’t surprised when her head of curls popped into the shadows of the fire in his small sanctuary. He was very attentive, eager to make sure she kept up her steady intake of fennel and posy. They spent most of the days cuddling together and ignoring anyone else but themselves when he wasn’t out hunting for food. Most of the food was sent off to Lallybroch through Fergus. She didn’t want to admit it, but they were both avoiding their family’s disorderly presence and unanswerable questions. Fergus stopped by frequently and Claire was glad of the company while Jamie was off. Claire spoke to both Jamie and Fergus about her many childhood adventures; those stories were safe from the fresh pang of loss she had endured. But Jamie finally put his foot down on the final night when Claire got a crick in her neck and returned her back, but her wee hands gripped him hard into their bed. There would be no returning to the cave. 

 Claire wrapped a shawl around her and tiptoed to the window. The sunrise was almost over, bringing with it an unusually bright and cloudless day. She peeked down across the courtyard, and her blood turned cold. Jamie was pulling up his breeks over his sark. Without hesitation, Claire shoved Jamie into the small wooden closet of the Laird’s room and quickly pulled the laces of her skirt and bodice. Not a moment later, the door banged open to the sight of a pock-marked redcoat. His eyes scanned the room and landed on the closet. 

 “Where is he?” 

 Claire played dumb, not willing to speak to reveal that her accent would be the same as his. That would raise even more questions that she couldn’t possibly answer. The only thing she could think of at that moment was to play into the delicacy of her gender and faint into his arms. With an overdramatic flare of the back of her hand to her forehead, she slumped onto the floor. 

 Her prone position reminded her of another stiff surface. A cold metal sheet, uncaring hands, and a pressure in circles on her temples. Panic squeezed her throat and veins.

 “Captain! This woman needs assistance up here!” 

 But it was Jenny who appeared at the door, not the Captain. 

 She gathered Claire onto her lap as best as she could being so far along in her pregnancy. “Oh no! My puir cousin! Ye see she had a great fall one day. The tragedy took her speech and now she has spells such as these all the time. I’m heart sorry ye had to see that Corporal…?” Claire relaxed into the familiar arms, so different from the ones that had restrained her.

 “Lieutenant Wilson.” He puffed out his chest.

 “Weel, Lieutenant, as ye can see my cousin Mistress Malcolm has taken up residence in this room recently. Bless her soul, the accident that stole her speech took her husband as well.” 

 The redcoat placed his tricorn over his heart and bowed his head. “Terribly sorry madame. Thank you for your cooperation.” 

 “O’ course, now away wi’ ye, we must prepare yer meal.” 

 Jenny was panting and gripped Claire’s hand when the soldier whipped out of sight. Liquid seeped down her skirts and to the stone floor below. “Jenny-” 

 “We must tend to the redcoats first.” 

 “No. Jenny. You’re only eight months along. We need to see to you immediately.”  

 “The Lieutenant-” 

 “Can go hang. Ian and Mrs. Crook will see to them.” 

 Jamie slipped out undetected down to the root cellar.

 Jenny cursed, screamed and paced around her room. The midwife was impossible, refusing to sanitise properly before touching Jenny and Claire finally kicked her out. No woman like that would be touching her sister nor her future niece or nephew. Jenny slumped into the bed with Claire’s help when her labouring was over. Caitlin Maisri Murray was impossibly tiny when she met the world. No screams wrenched through her tiny lungs and Claire was immediately pressing the child to her thigh. Her forefinger and middle finger pushed into her chest and she breathed into the limp body. Finally, her chest heaved two minutes later, and her loud banshee shrieks filled the room. Her niece was a fighter. With her help, she would weather her first days, which would soon turn into thousands. 

 She had taken up massaging the baby girl to soothe her traumatised muscles from the hard birth. Claire cradled her niece’s turned head carefully in her hand and propped her stomach on her legs. Her hands began to deftly massage the exhausted baby’s back, legs, and arms, and once she was finished she gave a small peck to her wee nose. She still had a lot of growing to do to recover, but Claire was certain she would become a scraggly and loose-toothed toddler and a beautiful teenager before growing into the mature young woman she could envision her as now. Opening her bright eyes, moisture gathered at the corner of her aunt’s eyes in reaction to the brilliant colour. They were so like Jamie’s, and she knew not all babies kept their original colour, but she hoped. Would her daughters’ eyes have looked like this?

  The men had all dispersed for drinks in the Great Room downstairs and Claire brought Ian over to the side to share the great news. She signalled with her hands to keep up the pretence of her muteness but whispered quietly with nearly closed lips as well to Ian. The Captain, Claire presumed, sauntered over to her and held out a paper. Laird MacKenzie sprawled across the material in an adolescent scrawl. 

 “A letter for your Mistress. We thank you for your hospitality and wish her congratulations.” Claire nodded and tucked the paper into the pocket beneath her skirts. 

 It was dark, the middle of night, and Jamie snuck back in when the redcoats mounted their horses. He fell asleep immediately tucked into his wife. She grabbed the small grey tin from within her leather bag and pulled out the diaphragm. She adjusted it inside her until it laid comfortably and sighed. It had been days since her return, filled with distress and sickness, panic and dismay, and the events of the past few months had come crashing down upon her once again. She needed her husband. Crawling over him, he woke from his slumber. He grinned up at her and slowly came back to reality. 

 “Thanks to yer quick-thinking Sassenach, not only was my life saved but my wee niece and all in Lallybroch.” 

 “You saved my life James Fraser, on more accounts than one. I thought it might be fair for me to return the favour.” Claire smirked and rolled their bodies so she straddled him. “And not only that, I want to protect you forever Jamie. To see you safe until we’re old and grey, with an army of grand nephews and nieces, and the grandchildren Fergus will bless us with, to surround us. You can’t get rid of me ever again.” She softly kissed his forehead, along his cheeks, the tip of his nose, and slowly brushed her lips against his eager ones.

 “Och, Sassenach. Stuck with ye for life? I can think of worse.” He stared back at his wife with mischief in his eyes and adjusted his body so they were both on their sides.

 Claire rolled her eyes as she lightly slapped his arm. She leaned even closer to him, which seemed impossible with their skin flushed up together already. Her thumb trailed a line across his bottom lip and she replaced it with her own mouth. 

 “Make love to your wife.” She whispered, obstructed by his lips but he heard her like his life depended on the very cadence of her voice. Claire let go of his lips to kiss the spot behind his ear that made him squirm. “Make love to me Jamie.” 

 Their lovemaking was frantic, both seemingly clawed to possess every inch of skin.

 When they laid dazed on their backs, recovering from their post-coital bliss, Jamie lightly pressed his fingers onto the fading burns on her stomach and traced up to the two identical circles on her temples. Her hand found the healing scar on his thigh and she stroked over the raised skin. She looked at the large gash across her husband's thigh, still red with the newness of the injury. 

 “How?” 

 “Culloden.” He gritted out. “How?” 

 Her hands guided his towards her stomach. “The stones.” Now, her temples. “Boston.” 

 She didn’t want to discuss it any further, just as he was reluctant to share the details of that dreary morning on the moor. She neglected the scar on her breast and he didn’t push any further for her to speak on it. Would he feel ashamed of her truth? Of course, he wouldn’t, but she did. It was difficult for her to think back on. Speaking on it would make it true, so she kept those memories locked tight in her brain. Maybe, with more time she could heal, and she would share everything with him completely like they once had been. 

 “Boston?” 

 “Danvers State Hospital to be specific. Or as some call it- will call it the State Lunatic Hospital at Danvers. Frank put me there when I-“ 

 “Frank did this to you?” Jamie’s teeth clenched in anger and Claire could feel the heat radiating from his skin onto hers. “If he were here, I’d fight him fer ye Sassenach. I should ha’ never sent ye to him.” 

 “You couldn’t possibly have known. You were doing what you thought best, with the information we had at the time.” 

 “What is it, that left these scars on your puir heid?” 

 “They’ll fade. Soon there won’t even be a scar, I’m sure.”

 “I dinna care about how they look on ye Sassenach, I care that ye went through pain to have them, I would ha’ gladly taken it myself.” His eyes were glossy as he implored her. “Now tell me.” 

 “In the asylum, they had these new treatments, electric shock therapy. They place these two rubber circles wrapped in like socks or something attached to a headband on your temples, and send volts of electricity through your brain. Like harnessing lightning right to your head.” His grip tightened, appalled at his wife’s description. “My mind was hazy for days, I couldn’t do much but stare listlessly at walls. I saw Fergus then, on the first night following the treatment, though I’m not sure he saw me.” 

 “He yelled out fer ye, almost at the same time every week.” 

 “Oh.” It felt better to know those nights he was truly there. “I was in there for little over a month, so I only had to endure it two times- wait no three, I think. I was a lot luckier than others, who were prisoners there for years on end. I shiver to think what that would have been like, a prisoner to your own mind and unable to say no to your jailer, or even saying no but them being apathetic towards your plight.” 

 “Fer all ye speak o’ the future, it doesna seem much better than now.” 

 “It’s true, some people use their innovations for evil then, that’s why the war I was in started. Evil exists in any time, in any place.” 

 “Weel I’m glad yer here in my arms, away from those mad bastards, and I know I can be there to fight anyone who wishes ye ill.” Her thigh began rubbing between his. 

 “I am too Jamie. So much.” 

 Laird and Lady clung tight to each other in their bed, in their home knowing they would have to leave tomorrow.

#outlander fanfiction #adsofraser writing #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #claire fraser #fergus fraser #canon divergence #craigh na dun #outlander fanfic

[brexrif]

August Takes What He Wants

A very filthy smut inspired by a conversation had about being forced to take birth control by a dom. Why? Because we filthy like that. August Walker? Because he is THE filthy, sadistic Sir we all need.

Warnings: D/S relationship, smut, rough handling, forced contraception, spanking...idk ya’ll it’s filthy and dark proceed with caution.

Special shoutout to @littlefreya​ for giving me the beautiful idea to have Daddy August put the shot in your ass! And special shoutout to these ladies for the lovely conversation that inspired this deliciousness: @dancingwendigo​ and @snazzyjazzyjayy​

Please refer to my MASTERLIST if you need more filthy wonderfulness.

“This is for your own good, Kitten.” His voice was stern and cold. There was a twinge of condescension as he bit off the word ‘Kitten,’ and tightened his grip on your wrist.

“No! Sir, please, I don’t want it,” you pleaded with him. His eyes were icy, unflinching as he looked down on you. No waver of mercy could be found over the calm lines of his composed and stunningly handsome face. August Walker would take what he wanted from you, just as he always did.

He dragged you down the hallway and towards the tiny kitchen of your apartment.

After just two thrilling, and admittedly a little scary nights with August, he had made it clear that you did as you were told. You obeyed him, swayed by some mesmerizing power he had over you. It was something about the way he so calmly commanded your whole body, moving you and using you like a puppet as he pleased, putting on a show just for him; you couldn’t get enough. You willingly surrendered, allowing your knees to go weak from his voice, letting him talk down to you and make you feel small in his strong arms, like you needed them to hold you up and protect you. August had an icy charm, the darkness in him was seductive and lured you in without room for thought or consideration. He was mysterious and dangerous and it made your folds slick being at his whim. You wanted to please him, you wanted more of him.

The sex. It had been like nothing you had ever experienced before. You had never been truly taken, and by such skilled hands. He had you rolling through continued orgasm after orgasm, working your body meticulously and learning from each sound and shudder your limbs made. August left you a whimpering mess the last two nights; truly, a mess. He would not put his magnificent cock in you yet, claiming you needed to earn it each time he unloaded onto your body. The first time, he guided your throat around his cock and came on your face, ruining your makeup. He wouldn’t let you wash it off until you came for him again. He said he wanted to watch you moan for him with his cum in your eyes. The next time had been onto your perky tits. He moved his throbbing cock over them covering you as best he could, grunting and praising you for staying still.

“Sit.” Your wobbly legs took you to the stool in the kitchen. You wanted to obey him, you really did. You enjoyed how controlling he was over your physical body, but there was something different about him wanting to control the function of your anatomy…

“B-but. I have tried it in the past. I don’t like how it makes me feel, Sir” you whined and twiddled your thumbs nervously. You weren’t sure what happened yet if you disobeyed August.

“Aww. What a sweet sentiment, little Kitten.” There was a laugh in his voice. You couldn’t see his face as he rummaged around in his bag, but you were certain he was smiling. He turned to you, uncapping the long needle of a syringe and allowing it to glint in the light. He was smiling.

“You still think it matters how you feel.” He said this matter of factly to you, his tone suddenly severe, and he crossed the tiles with heavy steps towards you while putting the plunger of the syringe in his teeth, undoubtedly to free his hands. Your face sunk, realizing what was happening and his hands were on you.

One hand gripped your waist, his fingers digging into you ever so slightly and nudging you upward. His other hand stretched out over your throat. You felt his thick fingers cup up underneath your jawline and squeeze lightly. You stretched your neck out, hoping it would provide you more airflow as he brought your chin and gaze up to meet his. You squirmed on the stool, grinding your moistening cunt on the hard wood and jamming your thighs together in an effort to still your own desperate movements. But August noticed everything.

“Look at you squirming already for Sir’s hot cum” he cut a wicked smile with the syringe hanging between his teeth and tightened his fingers around your throat. You tried to gasp, but it was more of a raspy wheeze that came from your parted lips.

“You’re so pretty when you’re scared, Kitten. Maybe we’ll have fun with this feeling first.” He set the syringe down on the table nearby and lifted you from the stool. He held you up in front of him, controlling you by the waist and the neck, your limbs limp wood for him to arrange.

“My pretty little doll.” He admired your body objectively as he took the seat himself and tightened his fingers around your throat again, as if to remind you that even seated, you were at his will. He spread his legs and released your waist. He patted his his thick left thigh and invited you to sit, though it was never really a choice for you to make. He dragged you onto him by the neck and positioned you so that one leg was swung over each side of his meaty thigh.

He brought you back to lean on his broad chest and all of your senses were quickly overwhelmed with August. He smelled earthy and masculine to you, his natural musk mingling with whatever deodorant he had on, a smell you now associated with intense arousal. Your back pressed on his hard chest and you could feel the steady, calm rise and fall of his breath beneath you. His fingers still held your throat, though he was allowing you much more airflow now that you were in his lap. He brought his free hand to your outer leg and started palming over the smooth skin of your inner thigh, roaming freely beneath your short skirt. He pushed your head back so that it fell onto his shoulder and you let your eyes gently close as his commanding touch on your thigh elicited slow and heavier breaths from you.

“That’s it Kitten, sink into me.” He whispered, hot breath over your temple and kissed you lightly. He crawled his thick fingers deeper in towards your heat and rubbed gently under your jawline with the other hand, teasing the very breath that came through your throat. You felt your whole body surrendering even further to his touch. Your muscles melted with your will into the thick, hard surface of his body. The thick pad of his middle finger found your clit outside your panties and he held it there, steady and unflinching. You whined and pushed your head deeper into his shoulder, desperate for the pleasure you knew he was capable of.

“Who does this belong to, Kitten?”

“You, Sir” you answer him breathy as he tightened the grip around your throat.

“That’s right. What a clever girl you are.” He mocked you and pushed onto your clit, wiggling his finger ever so slightly. You bit your lip, embarrassed, trying to conceal the moan that escaped from you.

“Don’t hide those moans from me you slut” he choked you hard and the air left your throat suddenly. He began circling your clit vigorously, you felt the friction ease as the pleasure soaked your panties. You tried to pant, but couldn’t. Pathetic, squeaky breaths left your lips and you felt August’s broad chest rumble beneath you as he chuckled, amused by the state he had so easily put you in.

“Does that feel good, Kitten? You’re so wet you could probably cum without me even taking your panties off, huh?” August’s tone was condescending and made you feel silly and weak. With his hands controlling your breath and the pleasure building between your legs, you welcomed the feeling, sliding even deeper into his control and ultimately your euphoria.

He took his hand from your throat so you could answer and you gasped for air, panting and reeling. He rocked his thick finger over your clit, building the pressure he had control of and worked you so close to orgasm.

“Answer me, slut”

“Yes, Sir. Ple-please.”

“Please, what, Kitten? Use your words.” His voice calm and controlled against your frantic and desperate plea.

“Please, may I c-cum, Sir?” you stumbled on the words as your back arched and August rubbed your clit faster, your panties completely soaked.

“I want you to grind on my thigh. Show me how badly you want my cock.” Without thought, you wound your hips on his thigh, rocking into his thick muscles desperately. He kept a finger on your clit and spread his palm over your mound while your ground into him. The friction was too much, you were moaning now, head thrown back and mouth agape.

“Cum for me, Kitten. Cum all over me you desperate slut.”

And you did; on cue. August had complete control of your body and at his command, you came hard onto his thigh. Your legs shook and you moaned and whined for him. He released your cunt and brought both of his hands to your waist. He pushed you back and fourth on his thigh after you had given into the pleasure, extending your orgasm for you. You fell back onto his chest again, panting heavily from the pleasure. August was right, he hadn’t even taken off your panties, which were now soaked in cum.

“Look at the mess you made on my pants,” his tone was condescending again, “what a good girl. Now, I expect the same on my thick cock, if you earn it.”

You nodded your head and whined. You needed it, you yearned to feel him inside you.

“Now, do you want to earn my thick cock, little slut?”

“Yes, Sir. Please Sir.”

He lifted you from his thigh so you were standing obediently in front of him again. He took his hands up your thighs and under the skirt he bought you to wear; it was a pastel pink mini skirt, flared and pleated. He slid your wet panties down to your knees and let them fall. You stepped out of them carefully, his hands on your waist for support. He brought you by the waist to his other thigh, spread a hand across your back and bent you over it. He spread his legs wide so that your ass rose high over his right leg and your head fell towards the ground. He let his broad hand slide up the back of your thighs and a shiver went all the way up your spine. He palmed your bare ass and kneaded at the jiggly flesh that made you feel lewd. August flicked his wrist and your skirt flipped up, exposing all of your intimate parts completely to his whims.

He squeezed at your ass cheeks and pulled them apart, the cool air hitting your slicked cunt and your exposed holes. You blushed and sunk your face towards the tiles of your kitchen floor, succumbing deeper still to the vulnerability of August’s control. He admired the curves of your ass for a while rubbing and kneading, humming to himself and lulling you into a relaxed state. You could feel the length of his cock hardening in his lap and you sighed feeling his fingers find your wet folds again. He plunged a long finger deep into your cunt with little warning and you mewled between his legs.

“You wanna cum on Daddy’s cock today, Kitten?” He started pumping in and out of you slowly, his fist colliding with the jiggling flesh of your ass.

“Mhm, mhm” you were moaning.

“Then you’re going to take this injection for me, Kitten. I will not put my cock inside you unless I can fill you with my cum. Until you earn my seed in your womb, I will not be breeding your pathetic cunt. Do you understand?”

You hesitated. Were you really going to surrender control over your anatomy to August Walker like this?

He curled his finger inside you directly on your g-spot and rubbed you in quick circular motions. You moaned and tried to tighten your legs together. He pumped his finger in and out of you quickly now, ramming his fist into your ass with no reserve. You whined and writhed, overwhelmed with pleasure and conflict.

“Do you understand me, slut? Or do I need to take this cock away from you?” He took his fingers from you and spanked the raised flesh of your ass hard. Your skin stung with pain and pleasure. The heat from the blow radiated through your ass as he struck again and again awaiting your response. You yelped and whined in response to August’s harsh hand. The sharp sounds of your taught skin being slapped echoed through the cold room.

“Well?”

“Yes, Sir. I understand.”

“Beg for it.” He commanded, returning his fingers to your soaking cunt, pumping them in and out rhythmically. You could feel your juices dripping down your thighs and smothering his whole hand, sloshing wet noises came from behind you and made you embarrassed.

“Please. Please, Sir. I need your cock.”

“You can do better than that” he chided. He was reaching to the table behind him for the syringe he had earlier.

“I need your cock so bad, Sir. I need to feel you inside me. I need your cum.” You were broken, through labored moans you begged for his cock. He took his fingers from your cunt and pinched the fleshy part of your reddening ass.

“Hold still, Kitten. It will only hurt for a moment.” He was calm and assuring now, pleased to be getting what he wants. You hated that you loved that, that you longed for that contentedness from him. You wanted to please August, you wanted to be good for him.

You felt the needle plunge through your supple flesh and you yelped. Augusts careful hands pushed the contraceptive into your bloodstream. He was steady with the needle, practiced and diligent. Once it was fully unloaded into you, August removed the needle and rubbed your small wound affectionately.

“What a good girl.” He praised and you smiled between his legs, knowing you were his, knowing you would get his cum inside you.  

............................

Considering a part two where August finally cums in you. Thoughts? Y’all wanna read a part two??

PART TWO OBVIOUSLY HAPPENED

AFTERCARE WITH HENRY FOR YOUR EMOTIONAL NEEDS

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#august walker #august walker smut #henry cavill smut #Smut #henry cavill #Henry Cavill fandom #henry cavill fic #august walker x #august walker x you #august walker x reader #mission impossible #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n #the hammer #d/s relationship #sir #dd/kitten

[dayseternal-blog]

Summary: When her gorgeous coworker hesitates to make the first move, Hinata plans to drop a few more hints.

Pairing: Hyuuga Hinata/Uzumaki Naruto

Written for @naruto-smut-monday 2021 - January Prompt: Snowed In.

(Please excuse that it’s already February 😓)

Rated E for smut and no plot.

Short One-Shot: Making It Obvious

The click-click of heels approaching make her straighten up and pretend to focus on her computer.  Her boss, Kurenai, stops at her workstation.  “Hinata, you should really go home soon.  You heard that it’s going to snow tonight, right?”

“I know, I just, I really want to finish this before the weekend.  I think I’ll be done soon.”  Hinata looks up pleadingly, hoping that her trustworthy demeanor doesn’t fail her now, hoping that her boss believes her.

“You’re not finished, yet, with that report?” Kurenai asks.

“I’m almost done.”

“Well, okay...drive home safely, Hinata.  And if it starts snowing, take a rideshare home.  I’m leaving now, and you should, too.”

“Yes, thank you.  You drive home safely, too.”  And out of everything Hinata’s said, those were the only sincere words.  Because in truth, Hinata was done with the report an hour ago, and she’s been doing her best to look busy…

Kurenai has walked across the room, disappearing behind a partition, and she can hear her repeating similar sentiments to another coworker.  “Naruto, go home soon.”

“Yeah, I know, I know, I will.”  His warm voice carries clearly, straight to her heart.

“Have a good weekend.  Drive home safely.”

“Thanks, you, too, Boss.”

Hinata shifts her legs, and the slide of the sheer, black tights she chose to wear to give her some extra self-confidence for today’s personal mission makes a slight heat pool in her core.  But she smiles and nods normally as her boss bids her goodbye, heads toward the elevators, and disappears from view.

She takes a careful breath.

It’s just Naruto and her now.  Just them, alone in the office.  The super good-looking man who’s been unconsciously (?) flirting with her just a few tables away.

A “friendly” pat on her head.  A glance at certain places on her body when he thinks she doesn’t know.  Lingering by the coffeepot when she’s there, too.

So why hasn’t he asked her out on a date, yet?!

She’s been trying to work her nerve up for a few weeks now.  If he won’t make a move, then she will.

Or so she thinks she will.

It’s now or never.

Now.

Or.

Never.

Thirty minutes later, she’s still sitting in her same spot, and each minute makes her regret her choices.

She can’t just go up to him, looking like how she is, trying to be..be.. seductive or appealing or…  She’s always thought of herself as more of a cute-type, but maybe that’s why he hasn’t asked her out, or maybe it’s that her shyness doesn’t make her inviting enough, or she just hasn’t been giving him the right signals.  So that’s why she decided to dress like this!

So embarrassingly!

No, it’s not embarrassing!, she scolds herself.  She knows she can look sexy if she tries, but to try to look sexy is just so embarrassing.  No, it’s not embarrassing.

She goes in mental circles, rebuking and reasoning with herself.

Taking a deep breath, she completes the first step.  Shutting down her computer.

Another deep breath and she’s accomplished the second step.  Removing her black blazer.

“Ohhh no.”  His loud groan reverberates against the walls, and she glances up from scrutinizing the satiny pearl camisole she chose to wear.

It’s snowing.  Really, really coming down.  White flurries dancing about in the wind outside the window, illuminated by the glow of yellow streetlights.

The sounds of him packing up are obvious, and with a knot of nerves gripping her gut, she stands, hoping to somehow catch his attention.

She doesn’t even know if he knew she was still here.

He comes around the corner, his stressed gaze immediately falling on her, and by how his eyes widen, she can’t tell if it’s her still being here or if it’s just her, looking like this that caused the obvious surprise.  “...Hinata…”

“Naruto-kun,” she answers, and searching for something to say, she points out the obvious, “it’s snowing.”

“Yeah…”  A quick glance at the window, and his eyes are back on her.  “It is.”

She’s certain he feels, at the very least, a physical attraction.

He closes the distance, coming up to her table, and their difference in height always just does something for her.  “Are you going home, yet?”  His blue gaze passes toward her blazer, laid back on her chair, then over to her computer, decidedly dark.

“Um, well…”  She obviously should, but unfortunately, the direction of this conversation already spells mission failure.

“It’s probably only going to snow more as the night goes on.”

“Yeah…”  She fidgets, searching for some way to prolong their time.  She looks up, daring herself to look him in the eyes, to try to turn on any kind of feminine charm that she has.  “How are you going home?  Are you going to drive?”

“Uh…”  He swallows, blinks, his brows scrunching.  “What, sorry, what did you say?”

Even his obvious distraction is adorable to her, and she smiles to put him at ease, as if she didn’t notice where his eyes were.  She’s just glad at the affirmation that they’re both bumbling messes in front of each other… That might explain a lot, actually.  “Are you going to drive home?  I was thinking of taking a rideshare.”

“Oh…yeah...”

“It’s dangerous to drive home…”  Commencing step three with this sudden onslaught of confidence, she begins taking out the pins from her bun, letting her hair fall loose over her bare shoulders, hoping upon hope that this is enough signals to tell him to ask her out by the end of the night.  “We could take a rideshare...together?”

He’s watching her closely, and again, a pinch appears at his brow.  “...together…”

“Mhmm.”

“...Here…?”

“Yes…?”  She doesn’t understand.  Where else would they get the rideshare.

“Hinata…”

“Mhm?”

“Are you sure?”

She nods with a reassuring smile.  It would save them time after all, unless if they live on completely opposite ends of town.  “Oh, I mean, unless, is it an inconvenience for you?”

“No, of course not, but…”  His hand comes up, and he’s touching her upper arm, something much more intimate than those cutesy head pats.

She’s inwardly cheering.  “I don’t live that far...do you?”

He pauses again, his look growing ever slightly more intense, and she understands this darkened look...and belatedly, her own invitations.

That’s not what she meant.

Heat suffuses her.  She can already tell her cheeks are staining pink, and this is not how she meant the night to end, but…if that’s how he’s taking it,...

She doesn’t mind at all.

His hand is playing up her shoulder, caressing her neck, and she instinctively tilts her head into his palm as he pushes her hair back, and he’s murmuring where he lives, confirming that, yes, she lives much closer, and he’s kissing her.

She sighs into him, her body revealing her desires much sooner than she would have liked, her hands pulling him closer, pulling herself flush against him to deepen their kiss.

The thump of his bag hitting the ground makes her smile against his lips, but she won’t part from him, not when he’s holding her waist, the stroke of his fingers obviously enjoying the silk of her cami.

It’s altogether lewd of her, she knows, but she rubs herself only further up into him, encouraging him to acquaint himself with her body, her senses thrilling as he launches them past propriety.

His hand squeezing her over her pencil skirt.

His arm wrapped securely around her waist.

His hair soft between her fingers.

His body warm and big against her own.

“Naruto-kun…”

“Wait...your place?” he mumbles into her lips.

They shouldn’t do it here.  At work.  Where anyone could catch them.

She’s pushing his jacket open, and he’s shrugging it off, dropping it on the floor quickly before wrapping her up again, and she hums in shivering delight as he trails kisses down her neck, his hands pushing and guiding her hips until she’s sitting back on her desk.  Shamelessly, he swipes his tongue over her cleavage while he drags the straps down until her cami is rolled at her waist, her strapless bra easily following.

“Hahh, Naruto-kun…oh…”  She leans back and arches into his hands and lips, a haze clouding up everything but the growing ache in her core, the moist heat at her womanhood.

He sucks and nips, squeezing and massaging her breasts, steadily positioning himself between her legs, her skirt now hiking up around her hips, too.

His clothed hardness presses right against her arousal, humping into her as they kiss furiously, the friction more maddening for her than he could possibly realize.

She can’t wait any longer.  Pushing him away slightly, he takes the hint right away, already working his belt off.

And that’s when he notices.

Her tights are crotchless.

His jaw visibly drops, his hands on his pants zipper pause.

Heat burns her face, but she spreads her thighs wider and lets him look.

Then suddenly he’s a frenzy of movement, clothes pooled at his feet, lips bruising hers, and his fingers rubbing into her heat, spreading her lower lips apart, a finger tunneling into her the way she wants his cock.  “Fuck, Hinata, you’re naughty.”

“Mmm…”  She wishes she could deny his accusation, explain that she wore it for confidence purposes...but the evidence is all too glaring at the moment.  “Please, Naruto-kun…”

One second she loses his finger, the next, he’s angling himself into her, forcing her to spread around his girth.

“Oh..oh, yes…”  She can feel her moisture slowly coating his member, easing his entrance, the rock of his hips nudging him deeper, closer.

“Hahh, yeah, uh, so,...mm…”  He sinks in, grinding up as he holds her hips down, sending flares of pleasure up to the crown of her head.  His exhale has him drawing out, thrusting in once, a low, throaty groan following that has her whimpering, only further aroused by his vocalized pleasure.

He draws back and folds her skirt up against her stomach, obviously watching himself pulling out, then disappearing back in, her black tights framing their joining bodies.

“Hinata,” he huffs out, and there’s a hint of disbelief and awe there that has her wanting to laugh, if only she had the breath for it.

Because he quickens, ramming harder and harder into her, his dick driving ruthlessly in and out, pushing cut, uneven gasps from her throat.  He creates a senseless, rude rhythm, jerking and grinding her into nothing more than heated breath and body.  Dropping weightily, he shoves his tongue against hers, a singing connection that surges through her, and she’s reaching for him, grabbing for his rounded shoulders.

“This too rough?”  His darkened, lidded gaze, the taste of his lips, the heat of his words.

Shaking her head and kissing him is all she can do in enthusiastic response.

Arms wrap around her, dragging her down from the desk, breaking her out of their dazed kiss, and he mumbles, “Turn around for me.”

Leaning over, she registers her work station, now completely defiled, never to appear the same to her ever again.  Yet these wandering thoughts evaporate with his groping hands on her ass, his manhood piercing back into her easily, splitting her flesh apart.

He’s reaching deeper than before, steadily moving faster and harder into a pace that definitely won’t last.  Strong arms reach beneath her, one hand gripping her breast possessively, and it’s been so long since she’s felt this desired, this free and pleasured.

She reaches down to rub her clit, the extra stimulation almost making her knees buckle.  Sizzling fire burns her toes, up through her clenching sex, zinging along her spine until she’s fighting to keep from shrieking.

“Agh...ugh.....”  His low, chopped moans have her stirring herself up relentlessly, her whole body locking up in suffocating anticipation, senses narrowing to a searing point.

Her whole body trembles in hot, wild ecstasy, clenching and pulling on him in desperate delight.  A breathless scream heats her throat, alighting above the heavy thump of her throbbing pulse.

“Fuck.”  He pulls out just as she’s calming.  She can feel him rubbing into her exposed skin, then his wet tip circling and sloppily kissing about her lower lips.  Hot seed drips down her inner thighs, staining her tights.

In the ensuing quiet of her heartbeat, she looks back with an exhausted smile, appreciative of his consideration.  She’s on birth control, so he needn’t have worried about it, but the thought is still indicative of his character.

Naruto really is a good guy.

He palms his face, quietly panting, his chest visibly rising and falling.  She watches him blink as if he’s waking from a hallucination.  Noticing her gaze, he smiles, too.  “I’ll go get tissues.”

She waits patiently.  A poking part of her self-consciousness is appalled at tonight’s development, but she ignores it as best she can, instead resting her head in her arms.

And when he returns, he actually wipes her up a bit until she straightens before handing her the tissue for her to do the rest.

“Thank you,” she murmurs.  If she didn’t know what to say before, she really doesn’t know what else to say now.

Luckily, Naruto’s strong point is his social abilities.  He’s pulling his pants back on when he breaks the silence.  “Hinata, this is by far the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

She winces and blushes.  “...Me, too.”

He looks up, slightly incredulous.  “Really?”

“I swear I’ve never done this before.”

“But you wear those things all the time.”

“No, I don’t!”  She pulls her skirt down and smooths it out far more aggressively than necessary.  “I, I just wore it today because I wanted to give myself confidence...to approach you.”

He looks really thoughtful as he straightens his clothing out, and she hopes she’s somehow rectified her image.  “So, like, when you have to do a presentation or meet a potential partner or client, you wear that?  For confidence.”

Her jaw drops, and she really wants to say no.

His straight expression morphs into the evilest grin she’s ever seen.  “Good to know, good to know…”

“Naruto-kun!”

His hands fly up in innocent defense.  “I was just asking.”

She hurriedly puts on her blazer, as if by covering herself up into a proper lady, she’ll be able to erase whatever dirty direction his mind is going.

He picks up his own jacket from the floor, redressing, and now it’s like the past ten minutes never happened.

They silently head out to wait for the elevator.

“Sooo…” Naruto starts, “dinner?”

She looks up at him in amazement.

“This,” he gestures back at the office, “wasn’t meant to be a one-time thing or...?”

A smile bursts across her face, so incredibly relieved that he doesn’t just see her as a good lay.  “Oh no, I’d love dinner.  My place?”

“Your place,” he easily agrees.  His hand gently lands around her waist to guide her into the elevator.

----

He was kind and gentle for the rest of the night, their relationship kicking off wonderfully, and it’s as if she could forget she accidentally propositioned him in the office…

She could almost forget…

If he weren’t sticking his hand up her skirts everyday “just to check.”

#naruto-smut-monday #naruhina fanfiction #naruhina fanfic #thank you for reading! #🙈 that's all

[ffsjeongyeon]

The Teachings Part III: Don’t Know Whether You’re Coming Or Going (SMUT)

WARNINGS: SEXUAL SITUATION (JEONGYEON/CHAEYOUNG, MENTIONS OF JEONGYEON/NAYEON) G!P, MINDBLOWING ORGASM ALERT, JEONGYEON HAS A DIRTY MOUTH BUT WE ALL BEEN KNEW

Surpriiiiiiiiise. This one’s been a long time coming, but you guys are all so damn cute that you inspired me to pop this one out. I hope the wait was worth it. Cute lil innocent Chaeyoung with some grinding and earth shattering orgasms. Let me know what you think :) Peace.

Chaeyoung felt Jeongyeon’s hands slip slowly down from the small of her back to the curve of her ass. She was straddling the older girl’s lap, rocking gently - almost shyly, in a way that if she put any thought into what she was doing, her cheeks would blush full with colour. Jeongyeon squeezed her ass gently once, then again harder, making Chaeyoung’s breath hitch in her throat.

The two girls had been messing about like this more regularly since Chaeyoung had caught the two eldest in their carnal… activity. Or as Jeongyeon had so eloquently put it in the times it had been brought up in their whispered conversations - ‘fucking Nayeon’s brains to mush’.

Chaeyoung could feel her cheeks burning again.

“What are you thinking about?” Jeongyeon’s voice muttered, her lips pulling away ever so slightly from the younger girl’s. “Don’t think I can’t see you going red. Or feel you zoning out.” She pulled away a little more, this time her head moving visibly as her eyes flicked between Chaeyoung’s eyes and her plump lips. “God, those fucking lips.” She mumbled, seemingly subconsciously.

Chaeyoung sat still as one of the hands on her ass left it’s position, and a thumb rubbed across her bottom lip, caressing reverently. She gulped to gather herself before she answered.

“I was thinking about Nayeon Unnie. And how you were… and how I…” She trailed off, not completely sure how to continue, or how to word things.

“How I was… what?” Jeongyeon’s eyes flicked with something dark, something mischievous. “How I was… fucking her just like how you want to be fucked?”

Jeongyeon’s candidness always took her breath away. And always left her aching.

“That is what you want, right?” The older girl continued on, unperturbed by Chaeyoung’s silence. In fact, she was encouraged on by it. “You want to feel me slip inside you. Where no one has been before. You want to see if my cock would fit, don’t you?” Chaeyoung felt like her cheeks were going to explode. “Look at you, my guess is you’ve barely even had your own fingers inside yourself. You’ve had my come down your throat, but I bet you’re dying for it to shoot inside you elsewhere.”

The aching between Chaeyoung’s legs flared almost painfully as she shot forward, capturing the older girl’s lips between her own. As she moved, naturally beginning her rocking again, she could feel just how I wet she had become. It was like a warm puddle had gathered in her underwear. Jeongyeon’s length had hardened directly underneath her crotch as she wiggled rhythmically on top of her.

“Fuuuuck.” Escaped Jeongyeon as she roughly grabbed Chaeyoung’s by the hips and ground into her core through her jeans and Chaeyoung’s pants under her skirt. “That’s it.” She encouraged, her head falling back in pleasure. “God. Grind it, baby, that’s it.”

Chaeyoung felt her breath get heavier and heavier as she followed the instructions. She let her head fall to Jeongyeon’s neck, and began to instinctively nibble there, until something felt different. It felt like she was going to pee… or explode… or her legs were going to fall off. Or maybe all of the above, or perhaps neither. It felt like she couldn’t think straight. All she knew was that she needed to keep grinding on Jeongyeon’s hard length that she could feel through their clothes. Keep grinding a certain spot. Her clit she realised.

“I think I’m…” The words got cut off as a particular upthrust from Jeongyeon caused her to moan, cementing her thought. “I think I’m gonna come.”

It was only as the words came out her mouth that she realised how true they were.

“Oh my fucking god, I’m going to come.”

Jeongyeon moaned out at her words, forcing her head up and looking directly at the younger girl.

“Yeah? You’re gonna be a good girl and come for me? You’re gonna come while you’re grinding on me like a needy little slut? Such a good girl.” Jeongyeon whispered. “My good girl. Go on, come for me. Let me see. Come hard, baby girl.”

“Oh my… holy fucking shiiit…”

Chaeyoung felt like all the blood had left her body to gather in her clit, as she ground into the body below her. Her head flopped back and her mouth opened wide, gasping for air, with Jeongyeon continuing to thrust up hard with her rhythm. It only took three more desperate sharp movements until she felt like her entire body seized. Her entire body apart from her sex, which contracted and twitched uncontrollably. She had the side thought that she must be making a terrible mess all over Jeongyeon’s lap, since it felt like she had oceans flooding out of her, seeping under the corner of her panties and probably down her thigh. The groan of pure ecstasy that scratched it’s way out from her throat echoed through her ears as she unraveled, her body suddenly losing all the tension it had built up in the last few minutes. For those precious few seconds that felt almost like minutes of her orgasm, she felt as though all her entirety was one. That her whole self was beating with the pleasure of her peak. A shaky breath sounded from her lips as her clit thudded uncontrollably against the hard length directly below it, and Chaeyoung shuddered from the contact, folding in on herself.

She slowly became aware of her surroundings. She was still straddled over Jeongyeon’s lap, but now her head was tucked securely into the other girl’s neck, and the hands that had previous been gripping her hips and aiding her rocking, were now gently caressing the small of her back, under her top, skin to skin.

“God, you’re incredible when you come.” Jeongyeon whispered, sounding almost in awe.

Once again, a shaky breath broke free from Chaeyoung, hearing her heart pound in her ears with prior exertion, and she tucked herself in more securely against her Unnie’s neck, wrapping her arms around her and crossing them at the girl’s nape. Another few quiet minutes sitting like this, and she’ll be good as gold. Hopefully after that time, she’ll be able to feel her legs again.

#twice fanfic #chaeyoung fanfic #Jeongyeon fanfic #fic

[wicked-game-black-butler]

300 followers, that's a lot of people who appreciate your work. I definitely want to participate in this event. Hmm. May I request a drabble (or Headcanons, whichever you feel more inspired to do) for a scenario where the reader has a wit of iron and tongue of steel. They are extremely scarcastic, flirtatious, salacious and for whatever reason, seemingly completely immune to Sebas charms. What his reaction would be/exploring the dynamic it poses. I do love myself a game of cat and mouse. 😈

There were only a few choice words Sebastian felt could honestly be used to describe the past week. Grueling, perhaps. Though hellish seemed more fitting. And most certainly vexing.

It had been a week since Lady Amelia Burton had arrived. Sebastian had been apprehensive of the young master’s interest in the baroness, given the earl’s general disdain for any activity which resembled socialization and the fact that they rarely hosted guests who were not given the full service of a proper Phantomhive welcome. When he had pressed the issue with his master, he had simply answered that Lady Amelia was an important stakeholder in the new line of exclusively feminine Funtom products he wanted to develop. And perhaps that would have been enough to assuage the gnawing frustration that his master was not being entirely honest with him, if it had not been for the way the boy’s voice called for him after having dismissed him to prepare his afternoon tea only moments before.

Sebastian had gritted his teeth, swallowing the sharp barb that burnt the end of his tongue. In the half a second it took to repress his ire and turn back toward the young lord, he managed to collect himself, presenting a smooth, unaffected visage. 

“Is there something else you require, my lord?” He had asked, as dutiful butlers were wont to do. 

“Yes. Prepare one of the spare servant’s rooms as well. Lady Amelia will be accompanied by her lady’s maid.” 

The young master paused and there it was--the look that renewed Sebastian’s agitation. His cerulean gaze sparked with mischief, never wavering, as his lips spread with impish glee.

“She isn’t like the other servants. I believe you will find her most refreshing.”

It had only been a week and Sebastian thought he was going to lose his mind.

No exasperation caused by the other household servants nor the petulant treatment from his young master could have steeled him for what the next seven days would bring.

It had begun subtly at first- a comment here, a contradiction there. Nothing that did more than ruffle the butler, but he quickly dismissed it. She didn’t know how things were done here. Perhaps the Burton’s butler was more lenient. Either way, she would learn soon enough. 

It wasn’t until she began defying his orders that he began to take notice.

Such as when she had made the baroness tea. It had been a couple hours after Sebastian had sent the servants to attend their daily tasks and he was returning to his office, hoping for a brief reprieve from the chaos the others had managed to stir up, despite the fact it was only mid-morning. That was when he had smelled it, the musky-sweet scent.

“What are you doing in here?” he asked, pausing when he opened the door.

“Why, that’s a rather accusatory tone.” she acerbically replied, brow quirking as she glanced up, never ceasing in her preparations of the tea tray. “I thought it rather obvious what I am doing.”

“I believe I asked you to assist Mey-Rin with the fireplaces.”

“You did.”

The spoon clicked against the silver tea strainer and Sebastian pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Then why are you in my office preparing tea?”

“My lady always takes tea half past ten.” she explained, closing the tin with a hollow click before walking over to the shelf and slipping the container back into its place. “It is my duty to tend to my lady’s wants and needs.”

He narrowed his eyes, staring down his nose at her when she came to stand before him, tray in hand. “While I can appreciate such dedication, isn’t it above your position to ignore the orders of a butler?”

She stepped forward when he did not budge, punctuating her reply, “No.”

At this, Sebastian took a long step to stand directly in front of her, his gloved hands covering her as he pressed, “I am unsure how things are done in your household, but you are under the Phantomhive roof and I am the Phantomhive butler. So long as you are here, you are under my authority.”

“I am afraid you are incorrect, Mr. Michaelis.” she quipped, gaze never breaking from his, “You see, I am Lady Burton’s lady’s maid and, as such, am under her authority alone, no matter whose roof is over my head.”

The only visible sign of his anger was the flaring of his nostrils. His hands clenched hers, careful not to break any bones, no matter how tempting. He wanted to do nothing more than to rip the resolutely defiant look off her face. 

With a smooth movement, she slipped from his hold.

“Now, if you would be so kind, I must see to her ladyship.” 

His burning gaze bore into her back as she gracefully navigated around him and made her way down the hall and to the servant’s stairs. It appeared he was going to have to be more persuasive if he wanted to depose her resistance. Clearly intimidation wasn’t working.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Then came the incident from a few days prior when he caught her near the linen closet, fresh towels draped over her arm.

“My, what do we have here?” he purred, sauntering toward her.

She huffed, rolling her eyes. “Your continued questioning of the obvious has me wondering whether you are a condescending arse or simply dense.”

A dark chuckle echoed down the hallway, along with the click of his heels against the stone tile floor. His steps- calculated, measured, predatory. Sebastian’s eyes sparked with premature glee when the maid took a step back, her back pressing against the wall as he closed the distance between them.

“My, my. Such language from a lady’s maid.” he toyed, slamming his right hand against the wall beside her head, the mocking grin that teased his lips becoming irrepressible at the skip of her heartbeat. “Whatever shall I do with you?”

His gaze dropped, so he looked at her with an alluring half-lidded stare. To her credit, other than the irregularity of her heart a moment ago, she gave no sign his actions affected her in any way. Not even a blush, which even dusted Bard’s cheeks when Sebastian chose to toy with the cook.

“You could let me take these towels to my lady so I can assist her with bathing before she takes her dinner.” she challenged, making to slip away to the left.

However, Sebastian was faster this time and prevented her escape by slamming his left hand by her head as well. Perfect, she couldn’t worm her way out this time.

“I’m afraid it’s not so simple. You see, I am the only one permitted access to the linen closet. Anyone else who takes from the closet is punished.” he paused, coming to rest his forearms against the wall to bring his face and body within a hair's breadth from hers, “Now, you wouldn’t want that, would you?”

She smiled coyly, her gaze never leaving his as she coquettishly answered, “Only because I’ve not done anything worthy of such punishment.”

She reached into her skirt pocket, Sebastian’s breath hitching when her knuckles brushed against the front seam of his pants, before presenting the retrieved key with a flourish.

“See? I was even on my way to return the key before I went up.”

“Do you really believe such an olive branch will save you?” he purred, his voice dipping an octave lower as he allowed his body to press up against hers. “This week has been littered with punishable offenses. Do you really desire penance?”

He lifted his hand, trailing his gloved fingers down her cheek while he pressed his hips against hers ever-so-slightly, breathing, “To be at my mercy?”

Sebastian couldn’t mask the confusion that wrinkled his brows at the chuckle that answered his double-entendre. Any of the other servants would have been a stammering mess of modest embarrassment and anticipation by this point, but this woman had the nerve to return his efforts with an amused stare and mocking grin.

“I can only assume your words were meant to threaten, if they didn’t ring so hollow.” she teased, her grin spreading to a smirk as she slowly trailed the key down his torso and slipped it into his waistcoat pocket. 

“You see,” she whispered into his ear, an involuntary shiver of anticipation slithering down his spine when her lips brushed against the shell and her hand continued to trail down to where his arousal pressed against his pants, “it would seem you are at my mercy instead.”

His hands clenched while biting back the gasp that sounded in his throat when her hand gave his cock a calculated stroke.

He wasn’t certain when she had slipped from his clutches. Instead, when the realization of her absence hit, he stood, staring at the wall in utter disbelief, slack-jawed, flabbergasted, and uncomfortably aroused. Amusement and fury roiled nauseatingly in his gut. The young master had aptly described her affect as refreshing. These past five days had been a twisted distraction from the lulling tedium of his post, however, he couldn’t be sure if he preferred it. He’d yet to decide which fate he desired for her, killing or fucking.

In the end, he did neither.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Last night had been Sebastian’s breaking point. He had come down sometime between afternoon tea and dinner to find her reading in the servant’s hall. She didn’t look up when he entered and he frowned. Humans always recognized his presence, even when he wasn’t visible. Yet here she sat as if she were the only soul in the room. Which was technically true, though such a reality was merely a matter of semantics.

“For a lady’s maid, you certainly have a lot of free time on your hands.” he jibbed, coming to sit across from her.

Her mouth pressed into a thin line at the unwelcome interruption and carefully marked the book before setting it aside. 

“And, for a butler, free time seems a scarcity.” she drawled, mimicking the way his chin rested on his hand, “One would think such a position would afford you some liberties.”

“Unfortunately, my master is not overly fond of liberties.”

A mischievous light flickered in her gaze, her lips twitching with amusement as she leaned forward. “So it would seem. His lordship keeps you on a rather short lead, like an ill-behaved dog.”

Sebastian’s brows creased at the jab, tendrils snapping like a whip and he opened his mouth to fire a returning shot when she cut him short.

“The reason I have more flexibility with my time is because, unlike you, Lady Amelia does not require my constant attention and she trusts me enough to leave me to my own devices, even when it comes to her care. Though I suppose that is a benefit of serving a young lady rather than a tyrannical child.”

“I do not know how things are done at the Burton household,” Sebastian leered, “but here such an open expression of opinions other than those of the young master are forbidden. So it would do well if you hold your tongue in the future, or-...”

“Or what?” she cut him off in challenge, “You’ll punish me by beating me with your sausage?”

Her chair grated across the stone tile as she stood. “I do not know how servants typically react to such correction, but I can assure you, Mr. Michaelis, I am not interested.” 

With that, she made to leave, though she paused when the ringing of a house bell echoed in the tensely silent room. Under the table, Sebastian’s hands clenched painfully, his mind racing as he attempted to concoct a reasonable explanation to his lord for her untimely demise.

“Now, if you will excuse me, I must see to my lady.” she quietly said, disappearing into the hallway.

The room darkened, silverware and dishes clattering in the vibrating hutch, and Sebastian’s tendrils reached out after the maid, aching for violence. She had wounded his pride one too many times. Her disdain for his master did nothing but sting for the sake of aesthetic, but her rejection of his advances was what burnt most-- searing like a hot iron. He had never been rejected. Never. Even the most pious, most pure eventually surrendered to his honeyed words and promising caresses. And it wasn’t that she didn’t like sex. The wanton sounds echoing from her quarters several nights this week as she and Bard lost themselves to their passions was enough to confirm that. 

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath. The rattling ceased. The evening light poured into the room once more. And he stood, straightening his waistcoat with a swift tug. 

Who was she? His mind chided. She was nothing, no more than a potential meal or passing distraction. To allow her such sway over his emotions was pathetic, unfit for both a demon and a Phantomhive servant. Such disgrace would not do. 

The morning could not come soon enough.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The dew was still on the grass when Sebastian and the young earl stood at the bottom of the grand stairs to see Lady Amelia and her maid off. Several feet away, his master and the baroness chatted amicably. Though he would never admit it aloud, Sebastian could tell by the light in his lord’s eye that he rather enjoyed the young woman’s company. Apparently the business discussions had been a success.

The gravel crunched, pulling his attention away from them and to the woman who stood before him, her hands clasped behind her back. 

“It appears we are to part ways, Mr. Michaelis.” 

“Indeed.” Sebastian answered dryly.

She took a tentative step toward him, the most deferential look on her face he had seen all week. Who was this woman?

“My lady said the conversations with Lord Phantomhive were rather enjoyable and quite productive for both parties. It appears we may see more of each other.”

“Perhaps.”

If Sebastian didn’t know better, he would have thought he caught a brief softening of her gaze, as if she was wounded by his curt politeness. He did not have to feign being agreeable any longer. So long as he was civil, he would have met his master’s social requirements as a butler and she would get no more than that.

She took another step forward to stand too close for polite society.

“I wanted to thank you for your hospitality this past week. I rather enjoyed myself and your company.”

Sebastian held up his hand to muffle the scoff he could not repress, sardonically answering, “Perhaps if you had the twinkle of tears in your eyes, I might begin to believe you. Though I must say, you have a rather odd way of displaying your appreciation.”

“Perhaps.” She giggled, a more familiar, more settling spark of mischief lighting in her eyes.

Casting a glance over to the nobles, she added. “There is something I wish to give you.” 

Before he knew what was happening, she stood on her tip-toes, pressing her full, sweet lips against his, only pausing to whisper breathily in his ear, “Something to remember me by.”

She placed something cool and heavy in his hands, any questions he had dying on his tongue when Lady Amelia called for her maid. 

“Until next time, Mr. Michaelis.” She coquettishly said, playfully winking before turning and joining the baroness.

The sounds of crunching gravel ceased, soon followed by the gentle click of the carriage door closing, but Sebastian was only mildly aware. In his hands was a clay flower pot in which grew a plant with deeply grooved leaves and small lilac shaded blooms that he would recognize anywhere-- catnip.

The corners of his mouth twitched, a pondering grin spreading his lips as he looked up just in time to catch sight of the maid one last time, their gazes meeting for a brief, yet knowing, second before the carriage rounded the bend in the drive.

“Humans are such strange creatures.” He softly commented when he came to his master’s side.

“You’ve been saying that all week.” the young lord sighed and began ascending the stairs to the manor’s entrance, “I surmise that means Lady Amelia’s maid met my expectations for you?”

“Perhaps more than I even realized, my lord.”

Sebastian paused as he held the door open to let his master enter before him, brows creasing in thought, his gaze following the carriage along its path down the drive until it came to the cover of the trees that lined the path.

And, as it became obscured from view, Sebastian wondered which thought bothered him most-the memory of the past week or the fact that some part of him, as small as it may be, would miss her.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Soooo, it ended up being a smidge over 1,000 words (2,801 to be exact), but once I got started, I couldn’t stop myself, lol. I hope you enjoyed this and thank you for being patient while you waited on me to finish this. 

And a huge thank you for being one of my 300 followers! I always love reading your comments on my stories with your anecdotes, different takes, and attention to detail. <3 <3 <3 

[londonfog-chan]

The Trans!Reader x Jonathan Joestar That No One Asked For But is Getting Anyway Because Fuck Convention: Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy

This one goes out to all my people who requested a Trans!Reader insert on my other blogs, I’m trying to test the waters with this one to make sure I’m doing it justice. No one should ever have to feel bad about themselves and I want this to be my love letter to all of my trans folks out there.

...

[[MORE]]

At first, she didn’t recognize the young man standing alone on the hill. Maybe you’d been chased off by him, and she worried when she saw your box in his hand. Heartbroken, thinking that your treasure had been commandeered by a brute. But the wind betrayed the boy, billowing locks of hair and instantly she broke out into a run, the turquoise fabric of her dress flaring out behind her as she hitched up her skirts, her blonde hair trailing behind her like a cape.

“I am here!” she called your name, and when the young man turned she saw the friend she’d known since infancy.

“Oh my!” the lightest dusting of pink tinges her cheeks as she skids to a halt directly in front of you. “You look… Dashing! Such fanciful clothes.”

“I had to make an impression darling.” You reply, smiling shyly and holding a hat box closely to your chest. “My brother won’t miss the trousers nor the blouse, but the shoes… They’re far too big for me. And… And I’m unsure how to tie the cravat...”

“Don’t fret, I can fix it for you! Look, I’ve even brought some things for you to pin up your hair. We’ll have you all primped in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.”

Like a mother, Erina Pendleton takes you between her knees on the grassy knoll. Armed with a brush and a coil of ribbon, she pulled and twisted your snarled tangles up and away from your face. You obediently pulled a man’s cap out of the hatbox and over your head as Erina finished with your hair and took your shoes off, pulling stockings from her basket and stuffing your shoes until they fit snugly when she tied the laces.

“Oh…” she smiles when she’s done, and for some reason it makes your heart tingle the slightest bit.

“What do you think?” you ask.

“I think… I think you’re positively handsome, and you seem to be less tightly wound. Especially around the eyes.”

You’re unsure of how you look, so you can’t say for certain that you feel the clothes have done anything to make you less of a wreck emotionally. Raising your arms over your head, you look at your shoes, the cravat Erina showed you how to tie around your neck, the tweed trousers. Everything is in muted colors, not a stitch of brightness to be seen save for the handkerchief peeping from your breast pocket. When you stole the clothes from the discarded trunk your brother left behind before he went to India, you felt exhilarated, frightened at the prospect of getting caught and possibly taking a switch for your boldness. Yet when your mother caught you taking them, she merely laughed and told you they wouldn't fit your brother even if you decided to fix them up, but if you wanted some play clothes they were more than adequate to serve that purpose. You decidedly felt deflated, a bit hurt she didn't really do anything and dismissed you as though you were an eccentric child playing at a game instead of a young man trying to come into his own. But you do feel something now that Erina has fixed you up… almost airy. And she is right, you don’t feel the strain around your eyes anymore. After a while however, you begin to squirm, indeed feeling something but not the freedom nor the personal acceptance you've been trying to achieve.

“My trousers chafe me so!” you complained. “Have they not managed to figure out a finer weave of fabric for the warmer months?!”

“Stop scratching! You’re being so vulgar!" Erina whines, but it does nothing to deter you from reaching into the band of your pants and scratching violently everywhere.

"Damn and blast!"

"Sophisticated gentlemen don't reach into their drawers and scratch in front of a lady!" she scolds, "You said you want to unleash the gentleman inside you, what would he say to this display?”

“Well right now the gentleman inside me wants me to tend to the war raging on my buttocks!”

Erina cries your name, begging you to stop scratching your rear end with a ferocity that nearly makes you roar in frustration. It does take quite a long time for you to relent, damning the conventions of polite society all the way and using rough language that the poor girl has unfortunately become accustomed to. For a while you complain some more about the clothes, the societal expectation to be covered at all times, the fact that neither gender is truly free of their own volition, and the revolution you wish to start for a society that is nothing short of anarchy.

"Everyone will be allowed to run stark naked if they wish to, or to be draped in silks and I'll make all these pompous aristocrats provide every necessity. I grow weary of hearing the necessities of decorum every five minutes when I simply wish to fulfill a human need!"

“Now, now…” Erina coos gently, brushing blades of grass from your trousers. “Look here, you’ve unsightly grass stains.

"If I must return to my flouncing hell I'll take care of it later." you told her. "Grass stains speak to a boy that craves adventure. An Odysseus!"

"I'm sure it does." she giggles. "But all this talk of treasure, we still haven’t taken care of the most important part.”

“… I’d nearly forgotten about that. Let me get her for you…”

You finally relinquish the tight hold you’ve been keeping on your hat box, slowly opening the lid and reaching in with both hands. Cradling your treasure as though it’s a child, you rock your precious doll back and forth, smoothing the cascading brown curls down and fixing her skirts. It takes a while for you to let go. You don’t want to let the poor thing go. She is far beyond a play thing, she was your bearer of the most heartfelt confessions and tears, the first to know of your beginning metamorphosis back when you feared Erina would call you horrific names if you told her your most guarded secret.

Now, when you look up at Erina, you know you’ve made the right decision to trust her. She scoots closer to you as you tremble, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and not once making a move to steal the doll from your grasp. In fact, she doesn’t presume to take it until you offer it to her, and then she treats it as though she is receiving a holy relic.

“Please…” you beseech your best friend, “Give her a good home, with plenty of love and affection. She likes to sleep beside your pillow in her box, and her favorite holiday is Easter, her favorite food is spice cake…”

“You can trust me, my dearest friend. I promise to take very good care of Aphrodite for you.”

Slender fingers reached forward to stroke your cheek, clearing away the tears that have fallen for the poor doll you relinquished. As she cleans your face, she tells you the doll will never leave her sight, fully prepared to cater to her every whim as though she's a princess and not made of wax. Yet Erina is right. You mustn’t cry. It’s only for a little while that Erina will have her, until you’re grown up and have a house of your own to keep your possessions. Unsure of your parent's reaction when you finally decide that they need to know they've lost a daughter and obtained a son, you told Erina it's better to keep Aphrodite away lest she is destroyed. You promised your dolly she'd be safer with Erina those nights you cuddled her, seeking reassurance from the persecution you knew you’d face from the rest of the world.

“When I’m a grown man, I’ll be a renowned physician.” You asserted aloud. “I’ll have a big house, millions of books, my piano, and I’ll play Aphrodite’s favorite songs for her every single day. If I am not accepted, then that will be fine. No family will be permitted to enter my abode except for you, my dearest Erina. We will have twenty dogs apiece, and I shall give them only the strongest names from Greco Roman literature.”

“Twenty apiece?!” Erina exclaimed. “Don’t you think that’s a mite excessive?”

“Not at all, in fact I think that’s hardly a proper minimum requirement for a house.”

All this talk of dogs and estates with room for a man and his doll makes you excited, and you cannot help but take your borrowed handkerchief from your pocket to wipe your face. The wind evidently shared your sentiments, as the minute you loosened your grip the scrap of fabric floated away on a gust that made you clutch your hat for fear of losing it.

“Oh no!” Erina whimpered. “I hand embroidered that handkerchief!”

“A thousand pardons darling! I’ll fetch it back!” you cried, and you’re up and running before she can stop you.

As you chased the scrap of fabric, you couldn’t help but feel elated. There was no tug at your waist that made your insides hurt and your breathing shallow, no skirts to trip you and confine you to a chair where you practiced the same stitch over and over until your fingers felt they would break. None of the insecurity and strangeness at inhabiting a body that did not feel like it belonged to you. You only felt the wind at your face, the hard earth below your brother’s shoes as you ran… No longer did you feel trapped, like a lion pacing a tiny cage in the circus.

You felt elated at last. As though finally, after all this time, you were living your truth.

It was Erina’s screams that finally snapped you from your euphoria. Pocketing the runaway handkerchief, you began your course back to the grassy knoll where you left her, fearing the worst when you heard her crying out “please! Please put her down!” Your heart sank. Not only was your dearest friend being assaulted, but her tormentor evidently had commandeered Aphrodite because there was only one other “her” that Erina could be referring to. She never referred to you in the old way anymore, not since your confession.

You made it just in time to see a young man being beaten to the ground, two other snot nosed brats, had commandeered Aphrodite and you heard talk of them going to lift up her skirts to see if she'd been made with all the right parts…

And the last thing you remembered was seeing red, absolutely seething with rage as you put a shoe up the ass of one of the boys and nearly launched Aphrodite into Erina’s arms. All the frustration, all the anger you felt your entire life of living a life that wasn’t yours, it came out in the form of an unchecked feral response that made the boys cry out for mercy as they left you, Erina, and the downtrodden young man alone. By the time you'd let them go, they could only hobble off pathetically. In your rage you vaguely recalled screaming to them that perhaps you'd check if they'd been given all the right parts, one of the boys had taken your brother's shoe to the groin and was being dragged along by his companion. Your face was dripping with sweat and tears, and your hands were sore and bloody. The blonde didn’t know who to comfort first, but when your eyes befell on the strapping young lad she too went to his aid.

“Don’t touch me!” he whined. “I didn’t do it for you, you know! A gentleman should always stand for a damsel in distress!”

“… then I suppose a thank you is in order for me?”

The words are out of your mouth before you can stop yourself. Even you're shocked at the personality you've assumed in your new clothes. With little effort your voice has become commanding, a general's voice that is full of conviction. Your stance is confident, centered, alone in your room you often perused illustrations in books of the matadores from Spain and admired the way they carried themselves in the charcoal drawings. Compared to the uptight men of this era, you swore to yourself you'd reject the stiffness of aristocracy and instead would carry yourself as unyielding as a man facing a bull. The young man looks up at you, crimson with rage, shaking and nose streaming carmine down his face. He and Erina have the same bewildered and intimidated expression, and he flinches but does not lash out when you heave him to his feet. He finally bolts from the clearing, insulting you as though you’re the one that beat him to a pulp, and for quite some time you and Erina stare after his retreating form.

"You brute!" he whimpers as he runs away.

“Who in the blue hell…” you begin, and you see Erina approaching with an unfamiliar handkerchief in hand to wrap your bloody knuckles.

Through the blood, the two of you manage to read the words “Jonathan Joestar”, looking back at the expanse of land where the boy had run off to even more confused and left with far more questions than answers.

But one thing is certain and you loathe it to be the first thought you have in your emergence into boyhood: this Jonathan Joestar fellow is the most handsome man you've ever seen in your life.

#jonathan joestar #jonathan joestar x reader #jojo’s bizarre adventure phantom blood #jjba #jjba x reader #jjba reader insert #trans reader #ftm reader #jojo’s bizzare adventure

[all1e23]

Astrophile [Pt.6]

Chapter:  Cosmic Rays

Summary:  Bucky has two days off and, he’s going to make the best of every second. 

Warnings:  All kinds of heartwarming fluff. I think we all need that after Endgame. 

A/N: This is my favorite chapter to date. It’s extra fluffy because my heart hurts (Thanks Marvel). Just keep in mind... slow burn. Send me love because i”m needy, okay?!  Plus all your comments make my day. BIG ULTRA HUGE thanks to my beautiful beta @lokissoul I love you 3000!

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are welcomed! Thanks!**

For forty-eight hours Bucky doesn’t have to think about on-site drills, taking calls, Sam and Clint bickering. He doesn’t have to think about the damn station if he doesn’t want to and he has zero intentions of doing so. The next two days are going to be spent at home with his baby girl, and he can do… laundry. He glares at the mountain of dirty clothes sitting on the washing machine and the second pile laying in front of the dryer and several of Ori’s dresses and tulle skirts that have to be dry cleaned.

That is not how he wants to spend his day off.

Bucky pushes his chair out from the kitchen table ignoring the piles of dirty clothes that were now behind him. Can’t see it, none of it exists, right? He brings his cup of coffee up to his lips and freezes spotting the stack of dirty dishes from the night before and the batter covered waffle iron from this morning. Not to mention the oddly large number of cups they managed to dirty. How do two people use that many cups in only a few days?

 With a quick turn of the head, focusing his gaze on the living room in an attempt to escape the mess he’s greeted with puzzle pieces thrown about, Disney Pictionary cards tossed haphazardly, brightly colored pom poms and googly eyes spread out on the coffee table and his arch nemesis – glitter. It’s covering the couch, the rug, and coffee table. Bucky winces at the sight and sets his mug down, heading towards the pile of dirty clothes. They had to get out of this house today and the semi-clean joggers he’s wearing isn’t going to cut it in public.

Plucking one of the not so embarrassingly dirty pairs of jeans out of the pile on the floor he glances back at Ori coloring something with her glitter crayons. Her entire morning has been spent perfecting whatever picture she’s drawing, because Orion is a perfectionist. She gets easily frustrated when she can’t make things look or feel a certain way. If doesn’t know the answer to a question, tears are sure to follow pretty quickly. She simply doesn’t like to let Bucky, or anyone, down. 

As much as it worries Bucky, he can’t deny watching her color with her brow furrowed, eyes set in determination and her little tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth is adorable. As cute as she looks he needs to get out of this house before he ends up wasting the day on cleaning because that would be a tragedy. 

“Hey, Comet?” He shouts as he sniffs one of his discarded t-shirts and wrinkles his nose at the odor, tossing it back down onto the pile with a grunt.

“What daddy?”

“I was thinkin’, how about we go see Y/n at the bookstore today?”

Bucky hears something that sounds like a scream or a screech, maybe? He isn’t sure what happened, but he rushes back into the living room, sliding in on his sock-clad feet. The bright blue chair (teal chair as he’s been told several times) is laying on the ground and Ori is now sitting on the floor by the entryway, unharmed and slipping her shoes on.

She looks up at him and frowns in deep frustration. 

“Daddy!” She whines. “What are you doing? Get dressed. Y/n takes a break soon, and we can bring her a treat!”  

He blows a stuttering breath to cover the laugh he was failing to suppress. 

“Alright, ya little general. Give me ten minutes to change.” He looks down at the mess of glitter in front of him, puts his hands on his hips and looks back at Ori, “You think I can get Uncle Sammy to come over and clean up the house for me?”

“You’re not that cute daddy.”

-------

Bucky opted to take his car, which he rarely uses, thanks to the enormous toolbox he chose to bring with them. He isn’t the only one bringing gifts to Y/n’s shop today. Ori had her backpack full of drawing after drawing and every single one of her glitter crayons - all sixty-four were in her travel case stuffed into her bag. Because turquoise blue is way different from robin egg blue and she absolutely needs both. They park about a block away thanks to every other person that thought driving was a good idea today. Just a harsh reminder why Bucky never drives in the city. They stroll down the sidewalk, and Ori nervously tightens her grip on Bucky’s hand the closer they get to the shop.

“You okay, baby girl?” Bucky asks, looking down at her.

She shrugs looking down at the rainbow bow on top of her black tennis shoes. “What if she doesn’t like it?”

“I think she’s going to love anything you got her,” Bucky replied earnestly. “I know she’s going to like the picture you made her and I’m sure she’s gonna like the present you got her at the book fair.”

“I guess so…” Ori mumbles as they approach the star covered storefront. She looks up at the letters displaying the shop name and then to her dad, stepping behind him and holding his jeans in her small fist. 

“You go first.”

Bucky holds back a laugh for the second time today and brushes her curls out of her eyes to get a better look at her. She is the same shade of green Steve was when he asked Sam out for the first time. She’s really spending more time than she should with Uncle Stevie. Bucky holds the door open letting a large group of people shuffle out and giving Ori a second to calm down. They wander into the shop, Bucky pretends to drag his leg behind him as if Ori weighs a ton and his Oscar-worthy acting skills cause her to giggle despite her nerves.

The shop is fairly busy, but it probably has something to do with it being Friday and the sale Y/n has going on. The sign hanging in the front window reads something about getting fifty percent off a total purchase if you buy three or more books and clearly people are excited. Might not have been the best day for surprises. He’s never seen this many people in the shop before. It’s hard to determine where Y/n is thanks to the crowds that have taken over the shop. 

A few sweeps of his surroundings and he finds her sitting on her step ladder between two of the smaller bookcases that sat in front of the register. He stops for a few seconds, just to watch her and he can’t help but smile. She has a store full of customers, and what looks like several stacks of books she needs to put back on the shelves, and she is sitting on a stool with a book open on her lap reading. 

She’s reading in the midst of all this chaos. 

“Hey,” he calls softly. 

Y/n pulls her nose from her book and looks over the bookshelf to find Bucky standing on the other side, smiling fondly at her. A huge smile splits her face in two, and it makes his smile grow ten times brighter. She abandons whatever she was reading and slips it back on the shelf, giving Bucky her full attention.

“Hey, Mr. December,” She replies, snickering as she does.

“I’m not gonna live that down, am I?” Bucky groans, loudly, and hangs his head in shameful defeat.

“Nope.”

She walks around the shelves, and her beaming smile quickly turns into a frown when she spots Ori nervously standing behind Bucky’s legs. Ori’s never been nervous around her before, and Y/n’s mind instantly starts to race.  Had she done something to upset her? Was Ori mad that Bucky has been texting her on and off? One quick glance at Bucky for encouragement and she goes right into fix it mode.

“Hey, Ori,” Y/n tries, gently, squatting down to her level. “What’s going on here? What is this sad face all about?”

Ori looks up at Bucky who smiles and gives her a wink urging her on. 

“I got you somethin’,” she mumbles into the thick material of her dad’s pant leg.

“Oh, my stars! You didn’t have to get me anything, but I’m so excited to see what it is!” Y/n chirps, a huge smile on her face as she settles on her knees, carefully letting her dark blue A-line skirt flare out to hide her legs. The smile on Y/n’s face gives the little girl a small edge of confidence, and she slowly makes her way out from behind Bucky’s legs.

“Is it a spaceship? You know how much I want to go to space.”

“No. I can’t fit a spaceship in my backpack,” The little girl says with a giggle as she unzips her bright blue backpack. Y/n watches taking note of the beauty and the beast, book club and space themed patches Bucky had stitched onto the front. 

“You’re right.” Y/n says, nodding her head in agreement. “How silly of me.”

Ori pulls out the drawing she made this morning and hands it over with a tiny gift bag. Y/n grins as she looks over the picture in her hands. There are four different color planets in the middle that glitter in the lights of the shop, and Ori had left her a message. She carefully reads the words in Ori’s handwriting, ‘You are my favorite planet. I like you very much.’

Y/n looks up at Ori from her kneeling position and practically glows in response. Her eyes never leave the little girl as her fingers work the bag open. “You are my favorite constellation, and I like you very much.”

The faint blush on Ori’s chubby cheeks makes Y/n grin wider, she pulls out a small white piece of cardboard and flips it over in her hand, and her heart leaps. She’s had boyfriends who put fewer thoughts into a gift. Her silence must have made Ori nervous because she could hear soft mumbles coming from Bucky’s side as his hand worked through her curls. “I thought – you like space stuff and, and you have that book you write in…” 

She looks up at Ori and smiles clutching the space-themed paper clips to her chest like it’s the most precious thing she’s ever been given, and it is. 

“The little astronaut is my favorite. Or maybe it’s Saturn with the little star. I can’t decide. I love them, and I adore you. Thank you so much, sweet girl.” Ori flings herself at Y/n and wraps her arms around her neck, Bucky watches the two of them in awe.

“You’re welcome,” Ori whispers quietly.

Y/n squeezes her tightly for a few long moments and kisses the side of her head. 

“Want to go pick out a book, and we can read together for a minute and then you can help me decide where to hang my picture?” 

Ori nods and gives her one last squeeze before she takes off towards her chair at the back of the store, where her secret pile of books is stacked behind it. There is a long pause before Y/n can use her legs, she slowly rises to her feet holding onto her picture and her gift with gentle firmness for fear of misplacing them. Not that she would ever let them out of her sight long enough to lose them.

“Thank you for that,” Bucky mumbles softly, aware that Ori is somewhere in the store and kids can hear everything when they want to. “She was really nervous you wouldn’t like it.”

“Bucky…” Y/n sighs and clears her throat of the emotion that was bubbling up. “I loved it. It’s the best and most thoughtful gift I’ve ever gotten.” 

There was such a sincerity in Y/n’s voice that he suddenly found himself angry at whoever thought she wasn’t worth the effort. He wants to tell her that she deserves more than that and tell her how thankful he is to have her in his life and his daughter’s life, but he can tell she is struggling to keep her tears at bay, so he doesn’t say tell her now.

“What’s with the tools?” Y/n asks, curiously, ready to change the subject. “Are they props for your next photo shoot?”

His eyes narrow playfully, allowing her to change the subject without missing a beat, and he nods to the toolbox at his feet. “You’re gonna feel real bad for makin’ fun of me when I tell you that I’m fixin’ your door and that busted up front window.”

Her smile slowly fades, and her expression turns serious again. 

“I–” She stumbles over her tongue trying to gather her thoughts. “You don’t have to do that Bucky. You have enough on your plate and, and I’m sure you could be fixing things back at your place.”

“And you’ve given Ori how many free books?” Bucky challenges. “How many times have you closed the shop to spend time with her? I know it’s more than the two nights I know about. Let me do this for you. Believe it or not, I’m pretty handy, and the crack in the window is driving me nuts.” He huffs, frustration ringing loud and clear, his hand brushing his hair back out of his face.

“All your cool air is flying right out that little crack. It’s a waste of money,” Bucky gripes, goodnaturedly but it’s clear it’s bothering him. 

“And you got any idea how unsafe that is?”

Y/n giggles and shakes her head waving her hand to the front of the shop giving him permission to whatever he wants to - she had a feeling he was going to do it regardless of her permission anyway. 

“Alright, get to fixing it I guess. Starlight?” She calls through the shop and Ori comes bouncing around from her chair with a beaming grin on her face. “Dads gonna fix the door wanna help me with inventory?”

Ori’s eyes light up, and she rushes off towards Y/n’s office where the cart full of books is kept and yells back, “Yes, yes, yes!!!

-------

The day flew by weirdly fast. Before Bucky knew what was happening the sun had started to set, and the crowd of people had come and gone. There were waves of people in and out all day. At bits during the day, the shop was so full Bucky had to stop working and just hold the door open for the crowds. Then there were random quiet periods when the shop was nearly empty, and he could hear Ori and Y/n giggling through the quiet.

Those moments were his favorite.  

Bucky sets his tools behind the counter and strolls back into Y/n’s office. It was near closing time, they were only waiting on one last customer to finish up her browsing, and Y/n had Ori on her lap at her desk while they looked through her planner, crayons spread all over her desk. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans his shoulder against the door frame, watching them.

“All done for the day?” Y/n asks not looking up from whatever they were coloring together. She didn’t need to, Y/n felt Bucky the moment he stepped into the doorway.

“Yeah, it’s all fixed.”

Y/n looks up and pouts at his empty arms. “Where is Timmy?”

He scowls as he glances back into the shop and then again at Y/n, “Who the hell is Timmy?”

“Um, your toolbox. Timmy the toolbox,” she says quickly, a slight frustration in her voice as if he should have known that Timmy was clearly a name for a toolbox and that she obviously would have spent time thinking about a name for the metal box, to begin with.

“You named my toolbox?” He asks, curious amusement filling his voice. Shit, she is cute sometimes, Bucky can’t help but think.

“I think the real shocker here is the fact that you had not named him up to this point,” She counters with a hint of disapproval, and he really doesn’t like disappointing her. Bucky chuckles quietly at the glare she’s shooting at him and throws his hands up in surrender. 

“I didn’t realize I had hurt the feelings of an inanimate object. I’ll apologize to Timmy.”

“See that you do.” 

She smiles triumphantly and turns her attention back to Ori who’s giggling away in her lap.

“How about after I apologize to Timmy we grab dinner?” Bucky offers, and Y/n quickly adds on. “I’m buying though!”

“What?” Bucky’s brows shoot up, and he shakes his head. “No, you’re not. How many books did you put in Ori’s bag today?” Y/n opens her mouth and quickly shuts up, her lips pressing into a thin line as she narrows her eyes.

“That’s not the point.” She whines, it’s hard for her to accept all this help from him. If anyone deserves to catch a break, it’s Bucky. Certainly not her. 

“You worked all day fixing the front door and then the window and don’t think I didn’t notice you came in and checked all the shelves and did that spackle thingy to the window that was leaking by Ori’s chair.”

“First of all, didn’t use spackle. That wouldn’t work on a wood frame doll.  Second of all, my time barely covers the amount of money you’ve lost in books,” Bucky replies, eyes filled with perseverance and his arms crossed back over his chest. He isn’t going to give in, and they both know it.

“Fine.” Y/n relents doing everything she can to hide her smile. She looks up just in time to see her last customer waiting at the register, so she hops up taking Ori with her. “You can buy dinner, but I get to pick where we eat, and I’m ordering two kinds of desserts.”

Bucky grins as he watches her skip back to the front of the shop Ori following right behind her matching her skip for skip. He chuckles quietly to himself and collapses into Y/n’s desk chair. The picture Ori drew was pinned up on the wall next to her desk, and Y/n had her planner out on the desk paper clips Ori had bought her at the book fair already in use. Y/n even let Ori add another movie night to next week’s agenda with bright purple glitter crayon.

“What did we do to deserve you?” He whispers softly.

The grin on his face slowly starts to fade, and his chest tightens when he sees what Y/n has scribbled onto Saturday night.

Dinner with Tony Stark. Masa @ 7pm

It hits him like a speeding truck knocking the breath right out of him. She has a date with Tony Stark. Bucky didn’t think Nat was really going to set them up.  He hastily looks back up at Y/n and Ori they are helping the young girl check out at the counter,  Ori is sitting on the wooden top laughing loudly at something Y/n is saying, scanning each book in Y/n’s hands and typing into the computer as Y/n directs her after each item.

Of course, he’s going to take her to Masa. Stark doesn’t do anything simple. Everything has to be flashy with him. Y/n probably won’t like all that flashy stuff. It’s stuffy there. Not that Bucky would know. He’s never been, and there was no way Bucky could ever afford to take anyone to Masa. There’s not a chance in hell he’s ever going to make enough money to spend a grand on some fancy dinner. Shit. Who is he kidding? She’s going to love it. Stark’s charming, handsome and could give her the best of everything.

If anyone deserves the best, it’s Y/n, but then again Stark didn’t have the best reputation. If he didn’t end up breaking her heart, which was more likely than not, his relationship with Y/n could affect her relationship with Ori. Bucky doubts Tony Stark’s idea of a fun night is watching Hotel Transylvania while eating pizza on the couch. However, if she wants to date him, as Y/n’s friend, Bucky has no choice but to support her-- even though he thinks it’s a terrible idea.

This is the worst idea and Bucky absolutely hates it.  

Previous // Next

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #single dad bucky #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #fireman!bucky #firefighter au #alternate universe

[just-another-author-i-guess]

The unholy

Warnings: she/ her pronounced reader, blood, biting, this is vampire au after all, slight nudity, Taehyung still can’t keep it in his pants, the reader is kinda aroused all the time, surprise surprise I didn’t bother to edit it through but what did you really expect at this point

Pairing: bts ot7 x reader, nun! reader, princess! reader, vampire! Jin x reader, hybrid! Namjoon x reader, hybrid! Yoongi x reader, vampire! Hoseok x reader, vampire! Jimin x reader, hybrid! Taehyung x reader, hybrid! Jungkook x reader

Parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 -

Author’s note: so I’m back with another chapter of the unholy! Sorry this is kinda short and really poorly written but I hope you can forgive me. Also, I just want to thank y’all for all the positivity I’ve been receiving lately like??? I don’t deserve y’all ??? Thanks?? Anyways, I hope you enjoy, things are about to get steamy. (; (you wont understand it now so it’s not as funny, just wait till it makes sense)

(Updates; every Sunday)

Summary:

The king and queen, your mother and father, rules the southern kingdom. The eastern and the western are ruled by kings and queens alike, but the northern are ruled by the most unholy of creatures. Or so you've been told.

Every citizen in the three kingdoms, have been warned about the creatures of the north, and it is with good reason they're all terrified. All your life, your parents have tried to keep the knowledge of the northern creatures from you, but that just made you more curious. Everyday, you would sneak down to the castle library, and read everything you could about the north, wanting to know the secret behind the unholy land.

That of course didn't go well with your parents, and when they found out they decided to send you to the most holy of places, to forget about everything you've read. One of the biggest church organizations in the south agreed to take you in, to rehabilitate you and learn you that you should never question such things as the northern creatures.

By day, you follow the strict prioress around as she lectures you about the holy and the unholy, and by night, you have to go on patrol alone through the church as a punishment for reading about the unholy. But one night, everything changes, when you find the prioress dead, with bite marks all over her body. Of course, you have read about this, and you know exactly what killed her.

But what happens when that exact creature you've read about, shows up right in front of you?

Taglist:

(to be tagged please dm me or comment on this post)

(i’m so sorry if i forgot someone)

@sweetcrvture @boononx @i-am-supermerwholoked221b @karissassirak @bvblackarmy @queenbianca-7 @someslightobsessions @hazeljrz @thefandomelifeishard

The walk up to Jin’s room was strange, to say at least. A heavy silence loomed over you, and not a single living creature showed up on your way, not even Hoseok or Taehyung who had surely only been a few meters in front of you.

You must admit you were a tad bit disappointed, secretly looking forward to see the faces of the other four, still unknown residents of the house.

The walk was shorter than you remembered, Seokjin racing down hallways with you right behind him, your wrist permanently locked in his tight grip, as he dragged you along. It seemed like the house were getting smaller and smaller with every hallways and corridor you passed, making you quite unsure of what you had seen just a couple minutes ago when you had ventured out by yourself.

But before long, Seokjin promptly stopped infront of what you assumed to be the door to his room, making you stumble a bit, faceplanting into his chest, and quickly, embarrassed stepping back.

Without a word, he unlocked the door, with a little, faded grey key, a satisfying ‘click’ sound echoing through the empty hallway.

Gently, Seokjin pushed you forward into his room, forgetting his own strength for a moment and making you fall forward harder than intended.

Quickly, a delicious smell filled your nostrils, and the sole reason why you walked down into the kitchens to begin with filled your brain; hunger.

In the exact same moment, your tummy grumbled, loudly and proudly, making Seokjin huff in amusement, the ice disappearing from his eyes as he remembered how human you were.

“As I said earlier, there’s a meal waiting for you,”

He mused, making you look up at him with a rather offended look, as he stood there grinning.

So he thought it was funny how hungry you were, after he left you alone for what felt like hours without food?

Angrily, you marched in the direction of the delicious smelling meal prepared by his desk, and slumped down on the chair, as he followed you and sat down besides you without making the slightest sound.

Seokjins room were tightly organized, in fact it was organized so much there almost weren’t any space left. To others, including you, it might have looked like a mess of books, papers and clothes scattered everywhere, but every piece of clothes and every ripped out page had a certain place, that’s how Seokjin liked to organize his hoarders.

In between the many things he had scattered around, you recognized more than a few items, from the castles and and dormitories you had previously lived. Things you were certain, that a vampire would never need, and it puzzled you.

Your eyebrows furrowed, as your eye caught a cooking book laying on his floor. The kitchen looked like it hadn’t been occupied for centuries, but still he had a cooking boom laying on his floor. And it wasn’t just one, you noticed, there were many, ranking from pastries to exquisite meals that would surely be a king worthy.

Seokjin noticed you confusion, and huffed once again in amusement, a quiet, breathy sound that somehow still managed to radiate joy into to the world.

You shrugged, deciding to let it go, when the scent from the delicious looking food found its way back to your nose, and instantly your hunger won the battle, and it wasn’t long before you were stuffing your face with all the goods laid out to you on the table.

Seokjin watched, with a sly smile on his face, as you ate the contents on your plate. Truth be told, his brothers had also been very confused to why he had even bothered to get cooking books, when the condition he was in didn’t allow him to drink anything besides human blood.

But it wasn’t the food itself that fascinated him, it was the human behind the making of the many foods that truly perked his interest. Of course, he wouldn’t admit it to anyone but himself, but he did find humans more than interesting, always trying to gather the information he could find around them, and gathering the thing they used daily as well.

Those were his lucky days, the days were he would find a random doll, a child had dropped, or even better would he find things created by humans, things such as cooking books. He wanted to learn how to cook, he wanted to learn the human way of doing it, not just ordering around a servant to do it for him. He longed to learn the human ways of life, he longed to feel human again.

As a small child, he hadn’t known how lucky he had been, to eat actual food, to need actual sleep, but the more he grew the less he needed the human needs and the more he craved what ran through a humans veins instead.

He sighed, watching you finish off your last bite, a content look on your face as you did so, and turned to look at him with a rather embarrassed expression, blood flooding your cheeks.

“Sorry,,I lost my manners for a moment,”

You gently dapped your moutharea with the cloth laying next to you, as you brushed your hands off in your ruined skirt.

“I..”

He started, but soon trailing off, mouth growing dry as hunger flared up in him again, but he had already taken so much from you, and his brothers had too, he needed to let you rest.

“You need to get your bloodlevels up, take a bath, there’s been a new dress prepared for you outside the bathroom,”

He started, standing up to leave once more, but still keeping eye contact with you, as his Adam’s apple bubled, and the only thing he truly wanted was to sink his fangs deep into your soft skin, draining the color you had just recently gained in your face.

“Someone will come get you later.”

Rather stiffly, he turned around, and disappeared quicker than you could even blink, the only evidence that he had been there being the door shutting soundly a few seconds later.

You picked the black dress up with careful fingers, noticing how much it resembled the one you already wore. Only this one was more detailed, clearly meant for someone with a higher standing than your current one.

You sighed, slinging the black fabric over your arm, entering the bathroom. You noticed how much of a difference it was to Seokjin’s dark room, here, light actually shone through the curtains, enlightening you that it must have been mid afternoon.

The room was fairly big, white marble tiles running up the walls and covering the walls, one big mirror standing a little off to the side, and the big, perhaps the biggest bathtub you had ever seen, standing proudly in the middle.

Carefully, you placed the new dress on the floor, and noticed a little, white underdress being curled up in the otherwise black fabric. With light touches, you let your fingers slide over the bathtub, feeling the smooth stone material beneath them, finally reaching the tap and gently twisting it.

To your luck, warm water came tumbling out almost immediately, the room getting gradually more humid, as you started to discard of your old, ruined dress.

Silently, you stepped into the now high water, small ridges forming as your foot hit the surface, and you shuddered. The water was warm, almost burning, but you couldn’t help but enjoy it, when the warm sensations surrounded you as you sank down.

The wager covered you all the way up to you shoulders, and you quickly leaned back, the water now going to your chin, with a content sigh. You let all the stressful events from the last few days wash away and flood out in the water, dried blood and dirt slowly flooding off of you.

As the warm water hit the bite marks on your neck, a shiver went up your spine, suddenly remembering the encounter with Hoseok and Taehyung in the kitchen. You had been starting to question yourself if it was even real, but when your fingertips lightly glided over the other sets of bitemarks on your wrist, and you remembered Taehyung’s intense hunger, you knew it was real.

Slowly, you let your eyes close, the scene in the kitchen playing on repeat, and your bitemarks were starting to feel hotter than the water itself. The way they had sank their fangs into you, and slowly out again, had you lightly whimpering. But it wasn’t soon, before the events of the last few hours came crashing down on you, forcing you to forget your lust and drift up into a heavy, dreamless sleep.

“Bunny..bunny.. I know you can hear me,”

The sudden voice of Taehyung instantly had your eyes open, and you looked around, wondering how he got in here in the first place. But you couldn’t the anything, the whole bathroom was covered in white, hot steam from your bath, and the only thing you could feel was his presence. He was here, and you wanted oh so desperately to get to him, a full ache starting to make itself present between your legs.

“Bunny,”

Taehyung spoke again, voice as soft and smooth as honey, but at the same time deadly and poisonous.

“Be a good girl for me, get out of the tub,”

You did as you were told, shaky legs hitting the cold tile floor, as you stood completely bare and dripping wet in the middle of the steam cloud.

“Taehyung?”

You called out for him, all too desperate to feel his hands on you, as only were met with your own voice echoing back to you.

“Shh, come here bunny, gotta be quiet,”

Taehyung shushed you, voice now right besides your ear, and you instantly turned around, being met with a rather cocky looking Taehyung, hair wet and curly from the steam.

“T-Taehyung,”

You shuddered, face flushed and red, as his hands began to caress your sides, curling themselves into your warm skin, as he continued to smile at you, a rare, sweet smile

“Here Jin-hyung can’t find us,”

He purred, hands running up and down your back, until they reached the small of your back, curling around your hips were they stopped their journey, and he pulled you flush against him.

He didn’t seem to care that your body was wet, therefore making his shirt damp, as he continued to press closer to you, slowly backing you up against the wall, you back hitting the cold tiles, making chills shoot up your spine.

“Are you gonna be good for me? Letting me take you right against this wall?”

His voice dropped lower, fangs coming out to poke his bottom lip, and you could do nothing but get lost in his brilliant crimson eyes and nod helplessly.

With one finally push, he had you pressed completely against the wall, sandwiching you between him and the cold marble tiles. You couldn’t wait for what was about to come, you couldn’t wait for Taehyung’s tongue in your mouth, you couldn’t wait for his fangs sinking into your skin.

But just as his lips touched yours, a sharp knock on the door made you shoot up, and realize you were still sitting in the bathtub, the warm water had now turned rather cold, and a shiver went through you.

The knock echoed again, before a gruff voice spoke.

“Seokjin sent me to get you. Are you clothed?”

The voice sounded tired and strained, and quickly you stepped out of the tub, wrapping yourself in a fluffy towel, still a little hazy from the all the vivid dream you had just had.

You could have sworn Taehyung was here.

“I-I’m almost done!”

You managed to call out, through hot stuttering, and you heard a tired sigh on the other side.

As quick as you could, you picked up the dress, combing your hair with your fingers, after you had put it on. The white underdress apparently had sleeves as well, making the long black dress look more like a maid dress, than what you had originally thought. it did look an awful lot, like the one the prioress used to wear.

Quickly, you stuck your feet in your shoes as well, and carefully opened the door, letting out steam, careful not to hit whoever was stood on the other side.

In the hallway, a boy smaller than the others, but still way taller than you, stood with an annoyed look on his face.

“Took you long enough,”

He grumbled, and placed a hand on the small of your back, the exact same spot where you could have sworn Taehyung had touched you just a few moments before.

Suddenly, the hand gripped your dress tightly, the boy freezing, looking at you with an expression that wavered between hunger and disgust.

“Why do you smell like Taehyung? Is he hiding somewhere here?”

He accusingly asked, pushing you forward in a more rough manner, closing the doors behind him. You stayed silent, contemplating wether or not you should tell him about your dream.

“You never answered me,”

He pressed, after a long pause of silence, him pushing you forward as you hurried down the many confusing hallways of the house.

“I-“

You started, your brain suddenly feeling just as fuzzy as your body, and all you wanted was for him to stop pushing you so hard. It was as if the memories of the dream quickly fled your brain, making you almost forget where you where for a moment, the world started to almost spin around you.

“I-i can’t remember,”

You muttered, placing your hands around your head, to get the spinning sensations out.

“He’s probably messing with your memory, that little shit,”

The boy grumbled lowly, and for a moment or two you weren’t quite sure who he was talking about. It was almost as if the whole encounter in the bathroom never happened, you could only remember the steam, the steam and someone, most likely Taehyung had been calling out to you.

Instead of pushing you, he now opted for wrapping his arm around your middle, making it easier to follow his quick strides, as he began to almost drag you along like you were nothing more than an old rag doll.

Silently, and more careful that the boy had been with you, did he open a big, dark wooden door, this time gently shoving you inside, instead of harshly pushing you.

Nevertheless, you stumbled inside, still feeling confused and fuzzy, your mind doing it’s best to figure out what exactly had happened in the bathroom, and why exactly you couldn’t remember it.

“Taehyung is in her head, hyung, I think he did something to her while she was bathing,”

The boy, went straight up to Seokjin, leaving you to stand alone in the strange looking room. You eyes wondering the many shelves with strange liquids, the big, messy desk Seokjin was standing over, and the big, comfortable looking bed in the corner, where a very tired looking boy was laying.

He looked like Taehyung and Hoseok had before they fed off of you, he looked hollow and paler than the rest, and a sudden urge to let him feed on you filled your head.

You got the sudden urge to bend over him, letting him sink his teeth into your neck, and drink until his cheeks went chubby and color returned to his face, but before you could even take a step forward, Seokjin shot you a sharp look, and you slightly stepped back, and tried to focus on anything but the boy in the bed.

“Thank you Yoongi, will you help Jeongguk sit up?”

Seokjin spoke, voice tired and strained, as he motioned you to come over, and the boy, Yoongi walked over the boy in the bed, Jeongguk, and with careful, caring hands helped him sit up in the bed.

Slowly, you made your way over to stand besides Seokjin, as he began to write notes down in a old looking journal.

“Do you know why you’re here, bunny?”

Seokjin asked, and you noticed how his voice was softer when he addressed you, instead of the tired, slightly annoyed voice he spoke with, had it been to Taehyung. Pausing a little at his question, you lightly shook your head, looking up to look straight up into his crimson eyes.

“Why can’t I remember anything?”

You shot back, wanting oh so badly to figure out what had went on in the bathroom, and why everyone was worried about Taehyung messing with your brain.

Seokjin paused, letting the pencil he was writing with go, making it land on the wooden table with a little thump.

“What is the last thing you remember?”

He asked, tone slightly worrying but not too much, as he instead grabbed onto to counter, tightening his hand around it.

“I..”

You started, eyebrows furrowing as you thought deeply.

“I remember falling asleep, and there was this steam filling up the bathroom..”

You wondered outloud, definitely noticing the way Seokjin grimaced, angrily letting out a huff of air as he cursed out the younger boy’s name.

“The fuzzy feelings will go away soon, relax, in the meantime I have a favor to ask of you,”

He started, and you skeptically nodded along, happy to know that the weird feeling would soon go away, but very unsatisfied with the answer you got.

“As you can see, Jeongguk is very sick, I- we don’t know what is wrong with him yet, but he has refused to drink any form of animal blood, and even the human blood we had stored away did he refuse to drink-“

“So you’re asking me to let him feed on me?”

You finished Seokjin’s sentence for him, and had it been anyone but you had he surely been annoyed, but he was actually rather impressed with your guessing skills.

“..yes.”

He sank again, Adam’s apple bubbling like it had done in his room, and nervously glancing at the weak Jeongguk who was now sitting up, with the help of Yoongi. You watched in amazement, as Seokjin reached behind him, grabbing one of the strange liquids, and pouring another weirdly colorful liquid into it, before shaking and looking skeptically at it.

“Drink this,”

He handed you the strange, now dark green liquid, and you stired it a little, noticing how it smelled almost metallic.

“Why?”

You questioned, eyeing whatever it was, and questioning to yourself if it was really worth drinking. Seokjin sighed, a long pause went through the room before he spoke.

“It will help with the side effects of Jeongguks venom,”

He sighed, and looked like it was the most normal thing to say after giving someone a strange green liquid, demanding they drink it. Upon noticing your scared expression, he lightly huffed, the same amusement from before briefly returning to his eyes.

“Some vampires have venom stored in their teeth, Jeongguk’s venom can and will cause a fair amount of damage, if you don’t drink the antidote I made you,”

Wearily, you took your first sip of the antidote, reasoning with yourself that surely Seokjin wouldn’t put you in a situation that could actually kill you. And when the venom didn’t taste as bad as expected, you quickly gulped the rest down.

“That’s a good girl,”

Seokjin praised you, making your cheeks turn slightly red, as you handed him the now empty cup back, turning your head, and carefully stealing a glance at Jeongguk. Seokjins hand landed on your back, indicating you should walk over to Jeongguk, and so you did, the strange urge to see him well fed making its presence known again.

“Jeongguk,”

Seokjin said sternly, making you slightly jump, but keeping your focus on the sick Jeongguk.

“Don’t take too much from her, take what you need, I trust you,”

“I know hyung, I won’t,”

The younger boy rasped, and that was the first time you had heard his voice. It was so much more alive than he looked, only sounding a tad bit tired, as his big, brown eyes met yours, and without even realizing it, you stepped forward, already beginning to bow down to him.

“She’s just waiting to be fed on,”

Jeongguk mumbled, voice just above a whisper, as he let his shaking hands lock around your shoulders as he situated you as he wanted you on his bed. You did not complain once, bowing to his will, feeling strangely submissive to the boy, as you let him slump you against him and expose your neck to him.

Both his hyungs were watching with cautious eyes, ready to interfere if anything bad was to happen, and with Jeongguk bad things was always to happen.

Slowly, he began nosing up your neck, a shiver ran up his spine, as he could practically already smell your blood through your skin. Suddenly, his tongue began to lap at the two marks, Hoesok had made earlier.

“Hoseok hyung got to her already?”

Jeongguk questioned, sounding more like a child that had to share his favorite toy.

“It was a mistake, Jeongguk, hurry up,”

Seokjin began tapping his foot, annoyed with the way the younger boy was taking his sweet time to smell you, when he couldn’t help but feel possessive. You were his feeder, he should be drinking from you.

That was all the encouragement Jeongguk needed, before he found his spot right below Hoseok’s, slowly beginning to lick it like a man starved, and you felt his supposedly poisonous fangs poke at your skin.

Suddenly he pierced, without warning, one hand resting on your belly, keeping you as close to him as possible and the other locked around your throat, keeping it in place.

Another shiver went up his spine upon tasting your blood, and instantly he dived deeper, only being spurred on by the way you held the many moans inside you, when you felt his fangs slide into you.

He drank like he was possessed, he drank like he hadn’t fed in days, and he hadn’t, he drank till his cheeks were round and chubby and he had no intentions of stopping.

He grunted and groaned into your neck, the heavenly feelings his feeding sent straight to your core made it hard for you to keep the whines and moans from spilling out, but you did your best, considering the fact that Yoongi and Seokjin were standing right besides you.

Only when the color started to drain from your face, did Seokjin interfere.

“Jeongguk, Jeongguk! You’ve had more than enough,”

He yelled, when the boy still didn’t listen, sucking even more viciously, making purple and blue hickeys appear along with the two bite marks. Only when Yoongi began to pull at him, did he stop, his fangs sliding out of you with a deep satisfied grunt, making you shudder against him.

You felt lightheaded, helplessly falling against Jeongguks chest, as you heard them loudly argue, Seokjin yelling profanities at Jeongguk for taking too much of you blood, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care at this point.

The lightheadedness was making you tired, so tired that the voices turned to mere background noise and you closed you eyes, noticing how comfortable Jeongguks chest felt against your back, how warm he was, how much you needed to sleep. And slowly but surely, your eyes closed, and you drifted off to a deep, almost coma like sleep.

#i hope this is okay #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts fantasy au #bts x reader #bts prince au #bts ot7 x reader #bts ot7 #the unholy #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader #kim taehyung x reader #jung hoseok x reader #park jimin x reader #bts vampire au #bangtan #bts

[vecnawrites]

Joan’s Unknowing NNN Failure

Joan thought she was doing pretty well for November. She noticed her friends and had the occasional boner, but she kept their oath. Though, that’s not entirely true. Technically, she had already lost, but it wasn’t because of anything on her part. It’s not like she can stop Pyrrha from pausing her to suck and fuck the cum out of her.

Joan gasped loudly, shuddering as she felt incredible pleasure rush through her body, but upon a panicked look and frantic pat down made her sigh in relief at being dry. She completely missed Pyrrha behind her, smirking and licking her lips.

This had been a slightly difficult time for Joan, but she was persevering. The No Nut November challenge was difficult, but she had been handling it well, she thought. She hadn't given in even once, despite having had erections several times...although, oddly enough, they had always immediately vanished and her body was wracked with pleasure, but she showed no signs of orgasm, so she didn't worry about it. Maybe it was something mental to try and cope?

Pyrrha knew she should feel bad about what she was doing, but she couldn't find it in her to feel any sort of regret. Ever since she had found this remote that paused time, she found herself enjoying what she could do with it...mainly having fun with Joan.

It had started simply enough, she knew from previous years of seeing people attempt or do the challenge that they got frustrated and lacked focus, and she couldn't have that for her partner. So, whenever she saw her getting a hard on, she paused time and...'helped'.

The first time had been the morning of the very first day of the challenge, ironically enough, with Joan's morning hard on. Pausing time, she had climbed into her partner's bed and opened her onesie, pulling down her panties and releasing her long and hard cock. She had cradled it in her hand, pressing kisses all over it like in her fantasies, before gently taking it in her mouth and beginning to bob her head, sucking and licking and humming around it.

Due to Joan being paused, Pyrrha had no idea if what she was doing was working, or even if Joan was able to feel and react to it, but-Pyrrha squealed around the flesh in her mouth as it erupted, filling her mouth with thick fluid, so much so that it dripped down her chin and onto Joan's abdomen.

Pulling back and swallowing heavily, Pyrrha licked her lips clean of surprising sweetness. She guessed that rumor of pineapple making semen sweeter was true. Joan always had a serving with her breakfast and her dinner. Murmuring happily, she lapped the drops of seed clinging to Joan's shrinking cock and that had fallen on her pelvis, placing several kisses all over her swollen balls before she pulled her panties back up and fixed her onesie, retreating back to her bed and restarting time, acting as though she was asleep.

She watched in awe through cracked eyes as Joan trembled wildly and gasped loudly, shooting upwards, eyes wide as she gazed down at her lap in panic, yanking her blanket off and patting her lap wildly, before sighing in apparent relief.

Pyrrha couldn't deny the dampness in her panties at what she had done, the knowledge that she had helped her love was great, and the power that allowed her to do so was...enticing. She had to do it again. She was hooked.

The second time was later that very day, in Professor Port's class. She would have been wondering about that, but they were on the level above Team RWBY, and she knew that Joan could see down all their tops. So, four views of cleavage (barely, in Weiss' case), was certainly enough to rile her arousal.

Pausing time again, Pyrrha smiled as she saw everything freeze. Carefully setting the remote on the desk, Pyrrha hummed as she pulled Joan's chair back, and carefully manipulated her skirt and panties off, licking her lips as she saw Joan's cock standing at attention.

Removing her own skirt and panties, Pyrrha rubbed her wet lips along the long shaft, shuddering as she realized that her first time was going to be with the girl she loved. Leaning forwards, she whispered into Joan's ear, “I love you.” as she sank down, her eyes rolling back as she was filled with Joan's cock.

“Fuuuucccckkkk....” she groaned, feeling so utterly stretched to her very limit. Opening her eyes, she leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to Joan's still lips. “You're so big...right against my cervix...” she moaned, wiggling her hips back and forth on Joan's lap as she got used to the stretch. “I wonder if you will get in my womb eventually...”

Slowly, she began to move up and down, bouncing herself on Joan's cock. She planted kisses all over Joan's face and lips as she moved, her face flushing and her breathing steadily getting harder. “So good, baby...please, more, more...” she moaned, feeling the thick shaft twitching within her pussy.

Pyrrha sank down to the base and rotated her hips back and forth, side to side, whispering in Joan's ears, even though she knew the blonde couldn't hear her. “Oh, you're going to cum so much in my unprotected pussy, baby...you're going to fill my womb...and you're making me...making me cum!” Pyrrha groaned loudly, her walls squeezing around Joan's thick cock, her eyes rolling back as pleasure filled her, and warmth filled her pussy as well in hot, thick bursts.

She snuggled against her love for several long minutes, before leaning back and pressing a sweet kiss on Joan's unresponsive lips. “I'm so glad I can help you, Joan...” she murmured, slowly pulling herself up, a lot of Joan's cum spilling from her lips and splattering on Joan's lap. That would need to be cleaned...

Looking down, Pyrrha cracked a small smile. “Well, I could do with a snack before we resume class...” she mused, sliding off of the chair and kneeling beneath Joan's section of the desk and beginning to lick up the surprisingly tasty mix of her juices and Joan's sweet seed.

Taking great care to clean up every drop, Pyrrha carefully redressed Joan and herself, retaking her seat and discreetly restarting time. The sudden sound was almost deafening to Pyrrha, but she heard Joan's stilted, gasping, squeaking moan perfectly, making her smile.

Her third time helping her beloved was actually during training that night, when she saw the hardness straining against her jeans after she had performed several flips. Given that she had decided to forgo her normal skintight shorts underneath her battle skirt, she was certain that Joan had caught several flashes of the thong she had decided to wear for this training period, as well as the expanse of her behind.

Waiting until Joan started her attack, Pyrrha swept her feet out from underneath her, knocking her flat on her back. As she landed, Pyrrha paused time again, freezing her in place. Unlocking her gauntlets and dropping them to the ground, Pyrrha knelt down and unbuckled Joan's pants. “Why do you have to be so irresistible?” she asked herself as she pulled Joan's pants and panties down for the third time that day, leaning down and nuzzling the heavy cock as her hands slipped her thong down her legs and flicked them away, uncaring as to where they might have gone at present.

Lining up, Pyrrha didn't bother with slow and gentle this time, she was wet enough that she slipped down the large shaft of flesh with ease. Not even bothering to get used to the stretch, Pyrrha began to bounce again on top of the frozen form of Joan, her hands deftly unclasping the breast plate and pushing up her hoodie and bra, palming and playing with Joan's large tits.

“Fuck, so perfect!” Pyrrha groaned as she bounced on top of her unknowing lover, pinching and rolling Joan's nipples between her forefinger and thumbs. “Such a perfect lover!” she bounced harder and harder on Joan's lap, driving herself closer and closer to orgasm.

Pyrrha screamed to the heavens as hot waves suddenly filled her pussy, sending her over the edge as she convulsed around Joan's cock. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...” she whimpered, shivering in the afterglow of sex.

Pulling herself off, Pyrrha hummed happily as she took in the sight of a frozen, but well fucked Joan, breasts exposed and cock, balls, and pelvis slick in not only her own cum, but Pyrrha's as well. Taking a few moments to memorize the beautiful sight, Pyrrha reached into her pouch and pulled out a small towel and began to wipe Joan clean before replacing her clothes. Speaking of clothes, Pyrrha momentarily panicked when she couldn't find her thong, but gave it up as a bad job after ten minutes. She would just have to cut their training short...

Resuming her position and restarting time, Pyrrha watched Joan convulse and shake on the ground, gasping. “Joan! Are you okay?” she faked a concerned gasp as she carefully knelt down next to her, before shifting back as the panicked blonde shot up and pat herself in such a way that it didn't look like she was blatantly groping herself.

Pulling off one of her gloves again, Pyrrha gently placed her wrist against Joan's forehead. “You're flushed...shall we call it early for the night?” she asked, getting a frantic nod of agreement from her team leader and partner.

Entering the girl/futa locker rooms, they placed their gear in their lockers and stripped, baring their bodies to each other. Pyrrha certainly enjoyed seeing the entirety of Joan's body, large breasts, peachy rear, and hung cock. What she didn't know was that Joan was giving her glances back.

Joan didn't know what was happening to her. All day she had been getting erections, but they had been fading almost instantly, leaving her filled with pleasure that she associated with cumming, making her panic that she failed the challenge she wanted to do. But whenever she checked, there was no cum.

Glancing up, she blushed as she saw a naked Pyrrha stretching before her, full breasts high on her chest, dusky pink nipples hard, trimmed and toned hourglass body, wide flared hips, a small triangle of fiery red hair, and pretty pink lips that seemed to be glistening under the light. She gasped as she realized she was getting hard, and quickly looked away, missing the smirk on Pyrrha's face as she bent over.

Clicking the remote again, Pyrrha sauntered over to the statue like Joan, cupping her cock and giving it a stroke. “All for me? Thank you.” she murmured, kneeling down and taking Joan's cock in her mouth and beginning to rapidly bob her head, sucking and licking the organ, one hand coming up and cupping Joan's balls, while her other hand slipped between her thighs and rubbed her clit and fingered her pussy.

Pyrrha knew that this was likely a reflex erection, but she wanted it gone before Joan was tempted to touch herself. After all, she knew that if she did, she would lose self-esteem that she hadn't been able to stop herself. Better for her to help without her knowing.

Surprisingly enough, Pyrrha came first, clenching around her fingers and squealing around Joan's cock, eyes widening as this triggered her orgasm, filling Pyrrha's mouth with the thick sweetness. Pulling back and coughing, she closed her eyes as she was painted with several more large blasts of cum. Leaning forwards, she sucked the remaining cum out of Joan's cock and licking the slowly shrinking organ clean, before turning to herself, cleaning the cum off and swallowing it.

Pulling her fingers out of her pussy, Pyrrha glanced at them for a moment, before a wicked smirk formed on her face. Gently tipping Joan's head, she slipped her pussy soaked fingers into her partner's mouth, rubbing them across her tongue and wiping her juices onto the muscle. “That's my flavor, Joan...enjoy it, like I enjoy yours...” she murmured, before heading back to her spot and restarting time once more.

Joan moaned and looked down in a panic, sighing in relief as she saw her cock was limp, but not leaking any cum. She hadn't failed...she frowned, running her tongue along her mouth at the foreign taste that was in it. Was was it? It was sweet, but a bit tangy, too...she thought back to what she had eaten before training, wondering if it was something from that snack. If so, she wouldn't mind it again....

As the pair entered the showers, Pyrrha smirked. Things were going wonderfully! Joan was 'succeeding' in her challenge, and she got to 'help' her do so! She could only wonder how much more Joan would need 'help' the rest of the month...

Joan Arc:

Status: FAILED (Unknowing)

Time Survived: 6 Hours

Method/Reason Of Failure: Partner, Time Stop Remote

#No Nut November #Arkos #Joan Arc #Pyrrha Nikos #Time Stop

[cupidmarwani-archive]

Summary: Sarah didn’t know she was going to get married, but now she has a wife from a bitter country and a palace that no longer feels so friendly as her coronation approaches.

Warnings: Smut, Mild Violence, Implied Past Abuse

(1/13)

Sarah finds out about it exactly six days, three hours, nine minutes, and thirty seven seconds ahead of time. She’s just enjoying her breakfast and looking over an unusually busy schedule for the day when her father clears his throat across the table.

“I’m dying,” he tells her.

“I’m aware.”

“You need to get married before you ascend to the throne.”

That part she doesn’t even deign to respond to. They’ve argued about this since she was old enough to conceptualize marriage. Some arrogant, irritating man with a heart of greed and a mildly favorable position in another court will be chosen for her. They’ll marry. They’ll have kids whether she wants them or not, as she was so unkindly told when she bled for the first time and cried to one of the maids because she thought she was dying.

“Sarah.”

“Father.”

“I’ve arranged for your nuptials.”

“I’m not getting married.”

“You’ll be married on Sunday.”

“No.”

She stabs a bite of her omelette rather viciously with a fork, and after a long moment of consideration, doesn’t bother to eat it. The conversation has sent her stomach rattling with butterflies, and for all she’s worth, she can’t shake a mixture of nausea and terror at the mere thought of a wedding, let alone one orchestrated by her father. She knows what sort of man he is. What he did to his first wife. Her mother. His third wife. His string of mistresses, here and there. Who’s to say the husband he has chosen for her will not be the same?

The first thing on her schedule is a dress fitting. She assumed it would be another for her coronation dress, the royal colors stitched together in the finest silks from kingdoms abroad and perfectly tailored to her, held for now by safety pins on the back because eventually, she will be hand-stitched into it by Natalie’s careful and gifted fingers. Natalie’s mother before her made Sarah’s mother’s wedding dress and all her ceremonial gowns. The gift, the talent was passed from mother to child. Sarah doesn’t know much about her own mother outside what’s on the photos lining walls and newspaper clippings that spoke of a great and noble woman from the court.

But this will be a wedding dress, and when she walks into the fitting chamber, Natalie has a spread of fabrics draped across the tables pushed against each wall. Some are a crisper white, others tinted a pale snowing blue, others falling toward a tawny cream. Fabric choices for the dress. Natalie herself sits on a stool finishing up a sketch.

“This is all we’ll be working on this week, the coronation dress is                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         going to have to be on hold,” Natalie says. She sounds a little panicked. “I’ve narrowed it down to three designs already, and then we’ll choose a fabric and I’ll make a quick muslin to make sure you like it.”

“Did you know?”

Her lips pull into a sympathetic frown. “I just found out an hour ago. I’m sorry, Sarah.”

“Just show me the designs.”

The three thumbnails are all on the same page. One is mermaid style, Sarah recognizes that much. The next has a straight, but not form-fitting or puffy skirt that seems to be more conservative and catered to what her father would want her to wear. And there’s one with long sleeves and a mildly flared skirt, drawn with a slit up the center that reveals what appear to be pants as opposed to the plainly exposed feeling that skirts often leave her with. And it reminds her of something her mother would wear when walking among the people in old reports.

“I like this one.”

“I thought you would.” Natalie turns to a new page and marks it with her pencil before standing up and reaching for the thin muslin to get a thought on shaping. Tighter on the bodice, flaring at the waist. The pants look in the sketch to be more like leggings, or tights, so that’s something that will probably be a separate piece from the rest. Sarah’s not certain, she doesn’t know much about clothes. “Arms out.”

The fabric wraps around her waist and cinches tight before being fit with pins to make sure it’s proper. Sarah can’t breathe, but it’ll be slightly better once she doesn’t have this gown in between. Another of Natalie’s creations. She’ll likely be stuffed into a corset, too, and that’ll come into play during fittings later on. An assistant comes in to start pinning long sleeves. Another starts on her skirt. There isn’t time to leave this to just Natalie, no matter her talent, because they’ve been given less than a week’s notice about what will become of her.

“Warm, cool, or neutral white?”

“What will the groom be wearing?”

“Something traditional from his country, probably.” Natalie loosens the fabric right beneath her shoulder blades. “Rumor has it he’s from Jenia, so we’re expecting red.”

“Fertility and passion.”

“Something like that.”

Sarah hums and decides she wants a cool toned white. Maybe even a pale blue or mint, a subtle expression of her displeasure at this whole affair. Marriage. She’d rather die, if she had any idea what would happen to the kingdom in her absence. Any other successor her father could think of naming would destroy them.

“I want something green. Dark, actually. Think forest.”

“The king-”

“Isn’t getting married,” Sarah says firmly. “If I have to do this, I’ll do it my way, and I’m not going to wear white. He should be happy I don’t dress for mourning.”

“I’ll send someone for fabric.”

Natalie comes around to her front and pins the muslin around her chest before taking her pen and marking out a seam allowance and a line to throw a gathering stitch to better accentuate her body. It’s just for this awful wedding.

“I’ll have the muslin and final sketch done by dinner, if you want to come by this evening to look over everything before I start the real thing. And I’ll have fabric by then, too.”

“Yeah.”

She spends the next half hour getting fitted before she’s off, leaving a kiss to Natalie’s cheek and a handful of bills in her palm to make up the difference between a meager seamstress’ salary and the expenses of a single mother trying to do right by her young son. There had been a time it was refused, but now, Natalie knows that Sarah won’t take no for an answer, and this is worth it. Owen is a happy kid in daycare, much more so than perpetually playing by himself in a pen or crib at the corner of the room. It’s good for both of them.

“I’ll see you tonight.”

Natalie smiles one last time as Sarah steps out and there’s a guard at her side to accompany her into town. Some fountain she’s dedicating in her last few weeks as a figurehead before someone else has to take her place. Freedom, fresh air, might help her with this stifled feeling rising in her chest and making her want to scream for any kind of release from this. At least it’s Ethan. He’s nice to her, makes her feel safe no matter what. And he’s polite to her, really, unlike some of the others. He doesn’t make comments about the way she looks, and he keeps a respectful touch when he must make contact. Gloved hand on her inner elbow to escort her, endlessly gentle when he pushes her behind him in a moment of danger. She trusts him.

“Apparently I’m getting married.”

“I’ve heard. Your father made the official announcement broadcast this morning. Apparently invitations were sent out a month ago.”

He waited so long to tell her. Sarah fucking hates her father and his underhanded manipulation to force her into what he wants. It’s too late to back out, however, and so she has to go along with it as much as possible. Once she’s queen, she’ll be able to find some way out of it.

“Your betrothed arrives on Friday night,” Ethan says, helping Sarah step up into the car. “I’m supposed to go to Jenia in the morning as part of the escort. A gesture of goodwill, I suppose.”

“You’ll be gone for all the planning? I can’t do this on my own, I-”

“You’ll be just fine, your highness.”

He shuts her door and comes around to the other side, slipping in just before the engine purrs to life and they’re off to the new fountain. Say some pre-prepared speech that someone else wrote for her about what it means for the country and the people. Cut a ribbon. Take a few photos. Kiss a baby. She hates the meaningless press jobs like this, but someone has to do them, and right now, that’s her. She’s been trained since birth to rule, but her control freak father won’t give her the slightest bit of influence. She’s just a pretty face for PR.

And as she winds up standing in bright sunlight, overheating in heavy fabric and reading off a fucking prompter for the cameras, she wishes that she could leave all this behind and be an actual ruler. Take care of her people instead of waste her time on all this petty shit.

By the time she gets home, she’s exhausted and her cheeks ache from false smiles, but she still has hours of responsibilities to fulfill.

@bipeteypie​ @one-chicago-hell​ @bookreader525​ @sarahreeese​ @sextonsharpwinhalstead​ @isthiswhatshameis​ @jorgerules​

#reesker #chicago med #sarah reese #ethan choi #mine #hlo!fic #fic

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Witness : 24

The Limit

moodboard created by @chuuulip

Character(s): dark!Bucky, dark!Steve, too

Masterlist

Warnings: this is a dark!fic, it contains non/dubious-consent elements. Some violence as well at the beginning. It goes without (and with) that this is 18+.

In this chapter: mentions of anal plug, blow job, rough sex, like rurl rough, choking, a bit of voyeurism.

Summary: Our reader finds herself hitting a wall.

Notes:  Okay, so I would classify this as a juicy chapter. I'm loving this you guys and I have about one or two chapters left in writing, so we're about ten away from finished for posting. But were aren't at the endgame just yet (you see what I did there.) Anyhow, thank you guys for making this series so amazing! I love you so much.

Please, reblog and or reply with your thoughts!! I’ll see you in the next one.

Needless to say, your night met with little rest. Your body slowly attuned to the plug but you just couldn’t get comfortable, the sensation of fullness was strange. When it was time to get out of bed, you showered, trying to perfect a casual walk before you were set to show yourself in public. All the skirts Bucky had bought you were unbearably tight and allowed no relief as you slowly descended the stairs and grew used to the pressure. Driving was worse. You felt as if you were sitting directly on the plug and you were glad you had bought your new car. You texted Steve the news so that there was no mix up and you were thankful you didn’t have to sit next to him that day. You were even more thankful for the elevator at Stark tower but your office chair wasn’t cushy enough to make you forget your burden. It was most off-putting that it was growing to be arousing. Sitting in a certain position, it put pressure on all the right spots.

The day couldn’t go fast enough but the clock moved like a snail on pavement. You kept glancing over between trips to the washroom to try to alleviate your situation. On your way back to your desk, you found Bucky waiting at your desk. He smirked as he watched you approach him and you tried not to let him see you flinch. You glanced around and walked straight up to him. “You gotta take this thing out.”

“Woah, since when do you make the rules?” He chided, “But it’s good to know you kept it in.”

You rolled your eyes and spun around, going to sit behind the desk and lowered yourself tenderly to the seat. A set of footsteps neared and Steve appeared from the hallway, his face brightening as he saw you. He strolled over, stepping up next to Bucky as he kept his voice low. “So,” He looked to his fellow super soldier, “When do I get my next go at her?”

Bucky sighed and looked to you; for a moment, you actually commiserated with the man as he shared the same exasperation as you. Steve lacked any sense of subtlety. “Well, I don’t know,” His metal hand was on the desk, “I don’t think Y/N has any plans for tonight...do you?”  Your nostrils flared and you shook your head. His fingers tapped on the metal, “Be a good girl and use your words.” He warned.

“No, I don’t have any plans,” You muttered. You could have lied and said you did but to be honest, you would do anything to have the damn plug taken out. If it meant letting Steve use you, so be it. What was another night of debasement?

“I’ll come back for her and we’ll meet you at the hideout,” Bucky said, “It’s all clean and ready to go.”

“Great,” Steve leered at you, “Can’t wait.”

The two super soldiers headed for the door and changed the topic swiftly to business and you tuned out. Despite yourself, you could feel the wetness cooling between your legs, the warmth collecting during their conversation. While you were inherently annoyed by the way they talked about you, you couldn’t help your physiological reaction. Hell, your drunken memories of the night with both men sparked a fire you didn’t know was hidden within you. A flame you very much regretted letting them light.

Bucky was ever punctual. He waited just by the elevator as you finished up for the night, pacing slowly around the lobby. You shut down your computer and grabbed your purse, approaching him warily as he pressed the elevator button. When the doors had closed and boxed you up with the silent super soldier, you found your nerve. “Tell me you’re going to take this fucking thing out of me.”

“In due time,” He smirked, “Only good girl’s get treats.”

You sighed and shook your head. The plug had become less noticeable but it didn’t make it any less humiliating. You rode the rest of the way without saying a word, realizing you would get nowhere by arguing. Your only hope was to go along with whatever he and Steve had planned. You cleared your throat guiltily as you pondered what it was; drunken memories of your previous encounter filled your head. Bucky glanced over at you as the elevator doors opened, his eyes lingering on you as if he could see your thoughts.

“Don’t worry, it’s not very far,” He teased and you rolled your eyes as you followed him across the foyer. You were happy it was mostly empty as it would have been quite peculiar for you to be walking around with Bucky Barnes so openly. You were growing impatient with him as he kept his pace casual, in no hurry to be out of sight.

Finally at his car, you were eager to hide. You climbed inside, only to moan as you sat almost directly on the plug. Bucky gave a low chuckle and watched as you adjusted yourself in the seat. He looked you over, his blue eyes drinking you in as thoughts swirled behind them. “What?” You hissed.

“Just thinking if we had time for a quickie,” He raised a brow, “I wouldn’t mind a go before meeting Steve. I like having you to myself,” He reached across the console and undid your top button, “Mmm,” He licked his lips as he admired your cleavage, “Well, I don’t see why we can’t have some fun on the way.”

You chewed your lip, glancing out the window to make sure no one else was hanging out in the parking garage. Bucky shifted is seat back, the sound drawing your attention, and he unzipped his jeans, pulling his hard cock out and stroking his length. “Go on,” He reached over and grabbed the back of your head, pulling you over the console. You resisted, bracing your neck against him as you glared into his eyes. “Do you want the plug out or not?” He challenged.

You swallowed the threat and your dignity, positioning yourself over the console as you parted your lips over the head of his cock. As you made your way down his length, he turned the engine and you pulled back in surprise. His hand caught the back of your head before you could free your mouth and he pushed you back down his length until he was in your throat. The motion of the car was almost sickening as you began, bobbing your head up and down carefully until he released your head. You didn’t dare stop, quickening your pace as you heard other vehicles passing you. You were eager to be done with it, paranoid that anyone could walk by and see.

“Ah,” He breathed, his hand rubbing the back of your neck as your drool dripped down his shaft and onto his jeans. “God, that’s a good girl. Mmmm,” He groaned, “I’m gonna cum, oh fuck.” His hand was on your head again and he forced you down to his base, ribbons shooting down your throat as you struggled to breathe. “Swallow it.” He ordered, lifting your head by your hair as he came to a stop. You urged yourself to obey, licking the saliva from your lips to ease your throat.  “Let me see,” He said as he tucked his cock back in his pants. You opened your mouth, showing him that there was nothing left. You looked up to the building just outside the car; it was the same one he had taken you to after your night at the bar. Steve’s car was parked just beside you and you got with a sense of foreboding mingled with excitement. The car ride was just the beginning.

As you walked down the stairs ahead of Bucky, you felt a sudden wave of deja vu. This time you were sober and the prospect of both men was intimidating. You could hardly handle Bucky on his own and something about Steve bespoke of a darker core. He hadn’t shown you the extent of his depravity yet. As you came to the bottom and entered through the beacon-like doorway, you shivered.

Steve was already undressed, left with only his briefs and the bed loomed behind him. Bucky closed the door as he entered and he tugged at the collar of your jacket. You unbuttoned it as he helped you out of it without a word. What more was there to say? Steve turned to watch, sitting on the end of the bed as he tilted his head. You stepped out of your heels and Bucky unzipped your skirt, that and your blouse were quickly disposed of in a wrinkled pile. You shimmied out of your tights and your bra was unclasped as you stood straight. It all felt so ritualistic.

Bucky gave little heed to your panties, tearing through the lace easily and tossing them at Steve who caught them and brought them to his nose with an exaggerated whiff. It was oddly arousing. “Go on and bend over,” Bucky whispered in your ear as he massaged your ass. You exhaled in relief and eagerly touched your toes. He gripped the end of the plug and slowly pulled it out, your body quaking at the peculiar ripple it sent through you. You stood and he caught you around your waist. “Keep him happy,” He rasped, pushing himself against your back, “And the night won’t be so long.”

With that he let you go, smacking your ass so hard that you stumbled forward. You turned the misstep into a smooth pace, approaching Steve as your nerves began to buzz. His hands were on your hips in a moment and he drew you close. Your placed your own on his shoulders as he buried his head between your breasts. You sensed movement and looked over as Bucky sat in a chair at the edge of the room, his eyes fixed on you.

You didn’t ponder his observation for long as you were suddenly swept off your feet and tossed onto the mattress. You cried out in surprise, your body bouncing on the springy padding. Steve tore off his briefs as you propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him cautiously. In an instant he had gone from tender to abrupt. It was telling and somewhat frightening. You remembered that drunken night and how rough he had been. If you were to compare them, he was harsher than Bucky, easily lost in his rapture.

He climbed up on the bed, nearing you on his knees as he grabbed your ankles and brought them up so that your legs were bent close to your chest. You were on full display as your body was folded in half. “Not her ass,” Bucky warned, “She’s not ready yet.” Steve growled and you saw his eyes flash from behind your legs. He smacked your ass and grabbed the flesh roughly, causing you to flinch.

He made no pretense of foreplay. He didn’t really need to as you were sure he could see how slick your pussy already was. He pressed his tip to your opening, using your juices to lubricate himself before pushing inside. He let your legs fall around him, reaching back to hook your feet around each other. He had your pelvis tilted so that he was at your limit, your walls snug around him. He thrust slowly but decisively at first, your back arching in response.

His hands held you in place by your hips and he carefully stood up on the mattress, your upper half hanging upside down as your legs held on tighter, scared of falling on your head. Suspended at such an awkward angle, you held yourself up with your arms as he began to hammer into you, his hips snapping violently against yours. He was grunting with each relentless thrust, your own cries betraying the pain-laced vibrations he sent through you.

When you thought you could take no more, he lowered you back to the bed, your chest heaving as you shakily bunched the sheet in your fingers. You were suddenly empty as he pulled out and you were thankful for a moment to catch your breath. But it wasn’t really a break. He dragged you from the bed, your legs trembling beneath you as he turned you to face Bucky. He scooped you up, his hands on the back of your thighs, bending your legs once more to your chest as he held you flush against him. His member slipped easily inside without guidance and your back arched as his cock rammed against your cervix. He was just as brusque as before but it felt just as good. Your orgasm was thrilling as it caught you off-guard, your head pushed back against his shoulder as he continued to fuck you.

When your eyes lolled back into place, you caught sight of Bucky. You were shocked and even more aroused as you saw his cock standing outside his jeans, his hand stroking it as he bit his lip. It was an odd feeling. The thought of him being so excited over watching you was different. It was in itself a form of admiration and you couldn’t help but relish in it. Throughout all this, you had barely felt more than an object, hardly admired but rather used.

Steve abruptly dropped your legs, shifting so that you were bent over the bed. He didn’t stop, only thrusting harder and harder. “Fuck, such a tight girl,” He snarled, his voice deadly.  His hand snaked around your neck and forced your back to curve uncomfortably. His other hand was at your throat in an instant, your body twisted as his fingers tightened more and more. “I knew it from the moment I saw you,” He was speaking low in your ear as he bent over you, choking you so that you wheezed with every jerk of his hips. Your pussy tightened with the grip around your neck. “That innocent little secretary look is just a lie, isn’t it?” Your head was throbbing at the lack of oxygen, you began to bat at his hands helplessly. “You’re all just the same, aren’t you?” You tried to nod but couldn’t. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” You forced out a coarse whisper, your hands grasping at his clumsily.

“Yes, Captain,” He corrected you, the sound of his flesh slapping against yours was deafening as he continued to pound your without mercy. “Say it.”

He thrust so hard that your feet began to slip from beneath you. You were caught between ecstasy and oblivion, your head swirling dangerously. “Yes…” Silver spots were floating at the corner of your vision. “...Captain.” Your arms were heavy, so weak that they fell limp. You hadn't any strength left in you as the steady rhythm of his cock impaling had you convulsing. Your eyes closed against your will and the pounding in your pussy dulled as the black overtook your senses; your body floating in the void.

tags: @they-call-me-le @holylulusworld  @petit-funsize @alexakeyloveloki @ladyofmystery @kellyn1604 @thelostallycat @grayxswan @collette04 @butteryoptimisticpeanut @buckycaptspideypool @blackpantherimagines @lilithhellfire @captainfreecandyvan @spaghettyrogers @phoenix21love @sathlens @iheartsebastianstan

#bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #bucky x reader #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #dark bucky #dark bucky barnes #dark!fic #au #series #witness #fic #mcu #marvel #bucky barnes #steve rogers #dark!Steve Rogers #dark steve rogers #darkverse

[jflashandclash]

Traitors of Olympus IV: Fall of the Sun

Forty-Nine: Calex

Not Enough Lollipops

           Tension eased in Calex’s chest.

           “Oh titans, it’s a zombie,” the pile of Pax blankets squeaked. Pax’s head popped out of his bedding, looking a bit too close to the squirming kitten pile in Will’s arms. Calex could only see from Pax’s nose up, as he kept the rest of him buried thoroughly. His black and golden eyes were gleaming with hope. The crazy spikes of his overgrown fauxhawk spiraled out in wispy swirls. “You’re alive! I think! Please tell me you’re alive and not a ghost with a dead kitten! That would be way worse. Does that mean Ghost Boy isn’t spokes and shadows?!”

           Although everyone said that Will had died, Calex never saw the body. The idea of him being dead never really solidified and Will looked very much alive right now.

           “You,” Will growled. Pax squeaked and disappeared back into his pile of blankets. “You should be sleeping on your back. The position you’re in is going to disrupt the healing of your shoulder. You’ve already permanently lost mobility of one hand, do you really want to lose mobility of your whole other arm?”

           No response came from the Pax pile. Calex had to wonder if that dodgy prick was pretending to sleep.

           But the words hit hard. Permanently lost mobility.

           Calex tensed each muscle on his body. Although he was sore, he could feel how painful it was to move all of his limbs. When he glanced beside him and Merry, he saw a stack of bloody bandages, clean ones, and a pinkish tinted bowl of water.

           Will’s tired blue eyes narrowed at Leo. “This isn’t for a prank, is it? I have a lot of patients to tend to.”

           “Kitten cannons,” Leo said, “We’re testing new defenses since our old ones failed.”

           Will sighed and handed him the bundle of mewing kittens. “You’re lucky Chiron told me I needed to get out of the infirmary for fresh air.”

           This crowded room, Calex assumed, shouldn’t qualify as fresh air. He feared what the infirmary looked like.

           “Our party pony is up?” Merry squeezed Calex’s shoulder and said the question his mind was too slow to put together.

           “Yes, he’s been busy tending to the wounded.”

           Will did a quick examination of Lapis’s leg. Sloppily, he cut the pant leg away, revealing a deep gash that was stuffed shut with red sand. Will made a face, giving Lapis a look.

           Lapis raised an eyebrow and glanced to Sadie.

           Sadie cleared her throat. “I, uh, may not have thought to tend much to him. Being a villain and all.”

           Will sighed.

           A reverence quieted the room as Will cleaned and bandaged Lapis’ wound. Calex noted how Will didn’t hum or sing. Calex wondered if his healing powers didn’t bode well with Will’s resurrection. Calex assumed it had more to do with the number and severity of the wounded. Will probably couldn’t waste his powers healing minor cuts and scratches or dodgy blokes like Lapis.

           After Lapis, Will started at one side of the room and went down the line. He widely skirted the covered birdcage in the corner, glanced over Euna’s slumbering form, gave Axel a confused glance, then paused by Calex.

“You’re going to have some serious scars,” he said, gesturing to the pile of bloodied bandages beside Calex. “Merry’s been at your side cleaning your injuries for the last day, but it’s like something sucked your skin off your face and parts of your arms and legs. For you, bed rest isn’t as vital, but you will need to keep your wounds clean. Once you’re well enough, I expect you to report to the infirmary to help me. Your experience at a clinic is invaluable since we’re down so many healers.”

           The words were hollow: a doctor’s report. Calex remembered the shattered structure of the Apollo cabin and wondered if anyone had gotten out alive.

           Will’s blue eyes examined Merry. Their intensity softened. “Merry, are you—”

           “I’m fine, Doc,” Merry said, her voice shaking with the thinly veiled lie. “We’ll talk about that later. Not ready for that downer yet.”

           Before Calex could ask, Will had already moved on to Kally. He knelt down, delicately lifted the sheets around her arm.

Calex glanced at Merry. She touched her cheek and mouthed the word, “Later.”

Merry might open up more in private. He hoped so. Calex swallowed and sat up to inspect Kally.

Kally’s arm was wrapped from her elbow down.

           “No one is allowed to touch this arm. Assuming you two are leaving like you planned…” Will glanced at Leo and Sadie.

Leo gave him a thumbs up. “You got it, medic. Don’t you worry. The Valdezinator will be right back.”

           “Some of my mates from Brooklyn House can clean up this camp as fast as you can say the word, ‘Order,’ and we have a healer,” Sadie said. “And I want to see my brother panic when Leo comes with me to pick them up.”

Will looked back to Merry, Calex, and Axel. “With them gone, you’ll need to make sure Kally doesn’t touch her arm or move it when she wakes up. She has two broken ribs and her opposite hand is fractured, so she won’t want to move much anyway, but the third degree burns in her right hand required a skin graft from her leg. Don’t let it smudge.”

           Calex swallowed. He and Merry nodded. Merry began to tremble.

           Will pointedly skipped Pax and walked to Dr. Claymore. The middle-aged man set his book into his lap and raised his eyes to the healer.

           Will frowned at Alabaster’s still form as he replaced the IV bag. “He should have been up.”

           “Oh, he was, for a period of time,” Claymore agreed. He pulled the edge of his jacket open, revealing several syringes beside a pistol. “Do you really think he’d let himself get bed rest here?”

           Will sighed, closing his eyes. “Fine. Just let him wake up next time. Sherman, Clovis, and the Stoll brothers all wanted to talk to him.”

           “Alabaster will not appreciate their idea of streamers, get-well cards, and singing balloons,” Dr. Claymore warned, tilted his book back open.

           “Take that up with the Stoll brothers,” Will said. Then, he added, “Without using your pistol.”

           Dr. Claymore snorted something about the art of subtlety.

           The son of Apollo walked to the door, paused, reached into his pocket, and stepped back to Pax’s sleeping bag. He set a lollipop at the edge of Pax’s bed. “I found an extra one,” he said.

           Something poked out of Pax’s pile of blankets. It took Calex several seconds to recognize it as a hand. There was a massive blacken spot in the center of the palm, fading to gruesome greens and purples. The rest of the hand was swollen to the point of looking like a poorly made jello-prop. Pax didn’t grab the lollipop like Calex was hoping. Instead the dumb bloke used the side of his hand like a rake, dragging the lollipop into the depths of his nest.

           “Thanks,” Pax said from the inside. “Now I don’t need to sing the lollipop song for the next ten hours.”

           Will sighed again. “I’ll be in the infirmary if you change your mind about treatment.” He returned his gaze to Leo and Sadie, who were fawning over the kittens. “I’ll let the others know you’re heading out soon.”

           As soon as Will left, Sadie folded her arms across her chest and smirked at Leo. “We only needed one kitten.”

           “Yea, but who doesn’t want a blanket full of kittens to lighten the mood?” he asked.

           Axel nodded his head. “Kittens can add a certain amount of happiness and mischief to any situation.”

           Sadie carefully scooped a kitten from the pile and held it towards Axel. “Bast,” she chided.

           Calex flinched when Axel inhaled sharply. One of his hands clutched his chest wound while the other fumbled back onto the sleeping bag to catch himself from falling backwards.  

           Meanwhile, the orange and black kitten in Sadie’s hands grew. Sadie gentle set it onto the floor. At almost the same time the paws touched the ground, they had shifted into hands and feet.

           A woman knelt there. She was beautiful, with black hair and caramel skin. Her eyes were similar to Axel’s, glistening lamplights with slits down the center. A leopard-print leotard clung tightly to her gymnast body. Her gaze was both amused and concerned as she examined Axel.

           “Will the real Mr. Stoic please stand up?” Merry whispered playfully.

           “Don’t move too much,” Bast warned. She leaned closer to Axel, nudging his head and shoulders around to investigate his wounds. Calex remembered Axel trying to decapitate Aphrodite for less, but their leader moved obediently. He looked confused, disoriented, and a little sickly. His eyes flashed around the room, taking in everyone’s position. His chest fluttered.

           “I partially stayed to assure you had strength to recover. You’ll have more scars as honoraries for being such a seasoned warrior. But please, do take care of yourself. Our kind isn’t designed to process the burden of guilt for so long.” Bast ended her investigation by curling a finger behind his tufted ears.

           Axel shook his head, his eyes focusing on her. With a grimace, he sat up, squared his shoulders, and raised his chin. “Thank you.” His mouth tried to form a word, but didn’t seem to know what to say. “That was a massive gamble, but without your help—”

           Bast’s smile turned exclusively to amusement. She leaned forward and licked along Axel’s jaw line, ending at his ear. Sadie gasped and Axel went silent.

“Let me know if things don’t work out with that praetor,” Bast said, “And, regardless, don’t be a stranger.” She took his hand and used her finger to write several glowing hieroglyphs on his palm. “You can use this to contact me if you want to make some more intra-cosmic magic, my handsome Tomcat.” She ended by booping his nose with her finger.

           Axel’s face flared to bright red.

           Leo let out a low whistle. Merry, Calex, Pax, and Lapis all choked on laughs.

           When Bast rose to saunter to Sadie’s side, Sadie swatted her arm. “Bast!” she said gleefully. “You ruined the poor boy! How have I never known you to be so devious?! How have you not told me stories!”[1]

           “I try to keep my kittens out of that part of my life, but you should know all cats are mischievous,” she said with a massive grin.

           Sadie rubbed the remnants of tears from her eyes. She managed to stop smiling when she returned her gaze to Calex. “You better keep that promise. If you haven’t given Gretchen a ring by the time we get back, I’ll add you to Leo’s new lizard collection.”

           She pointed to a paperclip cage at Leo’s waist containing a tiny gecko.

           Calex nodded his head. “Right.”

           Bast, Leo, and Sadie left with that parting salutation. Considering they were in a room with Lapis Pax and the Triple A Chimera, he couldn’t believe they would leave them unguarded.

           “You’re up,” Leo said to someone in the hall. “And let me know if you need me to make some special restraints for our friends. I’ll make sure it smells bad and plays annoying music.”

           Two praetors and a centurion walked into their room. [2]

           Calex tensed. He could feel Merry do the same. He could see Axel pale. All he could think about was everything they’d been unjustly blamed for over the last few months. But, was all of it really unjust? Axel had confessed he and Pax had tricked Leo into recrafting Kronos’ scythe. Euna had killed a dozen mortals. The Triple A Chimera had worked for Kronos. Alabaster, Euna, and Axel didn’t do much to hide their disdain for the gods, and Calex, Kally, Merry, and Pax had actively been protecting them.

           “Time to finally decide what we’re going to do with you,” Reyna said, unsheathing a knife to twirl it between her fingers.

 ***

Okay, last time I have Reyna twirl a knife for dramatic-end-of-chapter-effect, I promise XD Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! :D Stay tuned for Kally’s chapter, Satyr Butts and Catching Up.

 ***

  Footnotes:

[1] So, Bastet wasn’t just the goddess of protection in Egypt. She was also a goddess of fertility and physical pleasure, something Riordan—in his middle grade series—understandably skirted around. During Bast’s festival, women were freed from all social restraints to sing, dance, drink, and—yes—lift their skirts to show off their genitalia with pride. One of my former housemates worshipped Bast and loved doing just that no matter how often it sent one of our more reserved housemates into a panic.  

[2] How many Romans jokes start like this?

#Traitors of Olympus #Percy Jackson and the Olympians #Heroes of Olympus #PJO #HOO #fanfiction #Calex #oh gods--there are so many names to tag in this section #lapis #leo #sadie #Merry #Bast #Reyna #Frank #Hazel #Dr. Claymore #a lot of unconscious people #and Pax #Can't forget Pax #No really--he'll stalk you at night and poke you in the face until you acknowledge him

[welcometoyournewhell]

It's a Tickle Fight!

A/N: Done on the phone, sorry about too many errors. I was super excited to post this.

Urakara wants to know if her guy friends (apart from Deku) are ticklish! A tickle fight with the awkward bean squad!

__

Excited brown eyes watched as her crush and best friend.... wait what? Her best friends walked into the common room. Sure it was the boys' common room, but who cares?

Sero and Kirishima came over to the girls' all the time for fun stuff and to hang out. Sometimes they'd even talk Kaminari into it. But that was besides that point! Urakara was a girl on a mission. Her task: to see if her friends were ticklish.

It was a dangerous task, but she had to know. Mina was casually talking about how ticklish her guy friends were before others started to join in. Long story short a large tickle fight broke out to see which one of them were ticklish too.

Now it was time to test if her other friends were too! Midoriya had to be ticklish. Look at him: shy, cute, sweet, freckle, adorable, awkward, timid, so freaking cute! Iida on the other hand.... may be a problem.

Urakara saw this going two ways. One: Iida-kun is pretty ticklish. His knees have to be a weak spot, they typically are on guys like him! She may not get more than giggles unless she goes after his feet.... but even then it might not be much.

Two: He's not ticklish at all and is super confussed by her antics. Either way Urakara was getting a lecture. But now for another question; How was she going to do this? She hadn't thought of that.

If she just pounces them, her tickling would be random and she wouldn't be able to watch reactions well. She wasn't Sero, but she doubted they'd be okay with restraints. Hmm.... Maybe float in them and herself one at a time?

If that was the case she'd have to start with Deku. But.... she didn't want to throw up on them either. Crap! "Urakara, what are you doing in here?" Brown eyes widened before the girl fell back from her hiding spot. Her crush was kneeling on the chair she was using, looking at her with confusion.

"Pff! What, me? Oh you know.... um." Iida walked over now, staying beside Deku. "Yes, it's quite unlike you to sneak around like this. Your not becoming a creep like Mineta, are you? " The girl blushed as her nervous was faded. "No! No, no. That's, " she sighed.

"The girls and I got into a big tickle fight the other night after talking about how their guy friends are ticklish. Then it hit me.... I've never tickled either of you two." Wow this was awkward to talk about. She was blushing as embarrassment came up.

"W-What, ticklish? Don't be silly! " They both just looked at Deku. He was just giving it away with his scattered words, spastic movements, and blushing face. "Well," Iida started as he fixed his glasses, "if it will strengthen our bond of friendship, I will participate in your childish endeavors.

"I can't promise a strong reaction though. What about you two?" Of course he'd take this seriously. But, he was blushing a little bit, which both took aental picture of. It was rare to see the class representative flustered. Urakara nodded. "As long as we all agree to stay away from certain zones, I'm down!" Deku really blushed at that. "Ah! I wasn't even thinking about that!"

He was burying his face in his hands. Both rubbed his back awkwardly as another pair of footsteps entered the room. "Um.... is everything alright?" That voice. How could she forget Todoroki?! Guilt washed over her before she turned to the other. "Uh, yeah. Hey.... Todoroki. Are you ticklish by any chance?"

Such a random question. He used slightly from her straight forwardness before reliving a memory. Deku was the last person to ask him that and.... oh boy. "We were going to have a tickle fight and Momo didn't know if you were ticklish or not. Maybe you'd like to join?"

The other looked over the other two men before nodding. It was a friendship thing, right? That's what Deku said. Well it was meant to form close bonds, and Urakara wasn't wearing her leggings and skirt. He'd feel less perverted thanks to the loose pants and t shirt.

"Wait, seriously? Shoto you rock! " He was rewarded with a hug, which he awkwardly took. "It's just tickling, I don't see why your so excited. " Iida was starting to take charge. "I suggest we take this to a bedroom rather than making such a scene in the common room."

Deku nodded. "Not to mention Mineta." Ew, right. "Sorry, I'd rather not have All Might watching me loose my mind again, " Todoroki stated softly. The two other friends looked at Deku in shock. "What? Friends have tickle fights." He held himself shyly as he looked down.

"The girls would probably pounce us in my room, " Urakara sighed as she pulled back from Todoroki. "I have a bad feeling your glasses will get broke. Todoroki's quirk tends to flare up a bit when he's tickled, " The green bean warned.

The dou haired male blushed as he looked down. "My apologies, again. " The three then looked to Todoroki. "How about your room, " they said in sync. "No one but maybe Deku and a few others go in there, plus if your quirk acts up its like.... less of a big dea, " Urakara asked.

"Regardless we can help you repair any damage. But yours is more private, " Iida agreed. So it was decided. Upon arrival, the choice came of who would be first. Eyes seemed to fall between the floaty sweetie, and the freckled sweetie.

"I mean.... I could go first. It'll get it out of the way so I'm not dreading it later, " Urakara mumbled. Sure, this wasn't a just grab and dig in tickle fight like most she'd been in. It was organized and seemed like it could be more fun.

The three nodded and allowed her to lay on the floor first. Todoroki got her a pillow for her head before lifting her arms over head. He didn't pin them, but it helped him position himself. Hands at her hips, her tummy, and her armpits.... she was going to die.

What she didn't realize was how awkward the others found this. If she wasn't a girl.... maybe it wouldn't be so bad? Butshew as still their friend. A look of determination came into her face as she bit her lip. "Stop when she truly cries for mercy, " Iida asked. The three nodded.

Alright, time to start. Arms came down as soon as Todoroki touched down. Fingers scattered along her tummy and squeezed at her hips, making her rock around and squirm. Her face was already turning red. "What's wrong Urakara, you look like you want to laugh, " Iida teased softly.

She shook her head before molting as Todoroki started to pinch around between clamped arms. "Tickle, tickle, tickle, " the other whispered with an embarrassed blush. They really were the most awkward bunch in the school.

Muffled giggled could be heard as Urakara flpudnered around like a fish, trying to get away. Deku lifted her shirt a bit (killing himself with how heated his face was in the meantime) before tickling around her navel. "Mm! "

A sharp inhale through the nose was all it took for the three to know they were going to win. "What's wrong Urakara? You look as though your going to crack, " Iida teased in his normal excited monotone voice. He was starting to get more comfortable with the activity.

She was a good friend, like a sibling. Siblings had tickle fights. This wasn't perverted! Todoroki smirked a bit. "I'd say. Come on, didnt you want to laugh with us? " Didn't make too much sense, but he was new to this teasing thing!

Regardless, it was still affective. Urakara broke with a small squeal. Her head fell back as she squirmed around. "Nahahaha! Dhahaon't thehehehase! Thahaht's so chahaheating! " Midoriya blushed heavily. Her laugh was so cute and sweet! She even had tiny snorts in it!

Todoroki had stopped tickling as to see which gave the better reaction. The point was to crack her, correct? "Iida, stop for a moment. I want to see which one of us broke her." He looked up in confusion but complied.

"I don't think that's what you should be looking for Todoroki. She has a greater reaction with all three of us tickling than with just one. It appears you and Midoriya have found sweet spots. Perhaps if we move down more we can find more."

Urakara shook her head. "Nahahao! I-I submit! " She made a mental note to next time.... not hold in her laughter. It left her more breathless in the end. Her friends stopped immediately, and watched as Todoroki rolled her over before testing out which hand was better for comfort, while rubbing her back.

As the round faced girl settled for the warmer hand, the others started to talk. "So, who's next, " Iida asked. It was like he was taking this as a training exercise. Todoroki looked to Deku who shrugged. The green bean was panicking softly for his turn. Maybe he should go now to get it over with?

"Perhaps Urakara should pick, " Iida suggested. Todoroki looked down at the girl who was nearly asleep from the touch before stopping and using the cooler hand to try and wake her up a little. Urakara yelped as coolness blues her bare skin before squirming away.

"Sorry, " her friend chuckled. "Didn't think you wanted to sleep through the rest of this." She pouted a bit before sitting up and rubbing her eyes rather cutely. "Fine, but your using that on me later." Icy Hot nodded in agreement. If it would help her sleep, why not?

Iida sighed as she leaned against him for a pillow. "I take it your sitting this round out?" She shook her head before sitting up a bit with a yawn. "No, I'm good. Who's next? " She looked around to blank faces. "We were hoping you could choose, " Todoroki explained.

She nodded before thinking. "Deku is horribly ticklish.... probably why he isn't talking or making eye contact. We've never tickled you before Iida, and Deku says you have a really amazing laugh Todoroki." The dou haired male sat up abruptly before turning to his friend. "You talked about our tickle fight? " He was using ear to ear.

"T-Todoroki-kun it's not a big deal, " Deku said quickly before coming closer and trying to comfort him. The male huffed a bit before hurrying his face into his hands while the sweetie hugged him, freaking out and blurring out apologies. Urakara's fan girl brain was in an over load. "So cute, " she squealed.

"Why not tickle you two together?" Both pairs of eyes widened a bit. "R-Right now, " Deku stuttered. Iida hummed before looking to his watch. "We have about a half hour until dinner. It would save time." Urakara thought a moment. "But I kind of wanted to hear them laugh separately, " she huffed.

Iida pondered. "I'm not very ticklish so I'll grow boring eventually. With that cut time we may be able to get through them both, or throw the other in with whoever is after me." Both boys were still visibly nervous. Todoroki actually looked to be trying to hide in Deku's arms slightly.

"Does that sound alright Todoroki, Midoriya?" If it meant getting out of being tickled at the moment it did. "Yeah, sounds great, " he squeaked out nervously. Iida flipped himself rather stiffly in the center of the group before looking at his watch. "If we want to get through this, I suggest a minimum of five minutes for me, and a maximum of eight. That way Midoriya and Todoroki both have ten and we can rush to dinner."

Ah yes, Mr. Class Rep, on top of everything.... as normal. The three nodded before getting ready. "Now, " Urakara cried. Due to the type of person Tenya was, Deku figured the underside of his knees must be ticklish. It was a stereotype, yes, but it was worth a shot.

And it was slightly promising. The male giggled and snorted as he moved his legs around. Todoroki was quick to remove and place his glasses somewhere safer as to avoid damage. Urakara started to tickle behind his ears

He snorted as he tried to thank Todoroki, before starting to truly laugh when the other squeezed at his tummy. He was the only one still in uniform. The silky shirt was doing nothing to help him. "EEE! Ahahahaha! " He covered his face, a blush covering his face.

"Hardly ticklish, huh, " Deku and Urakara asked. He shook his head before nearly screaming. "Shoto!" The other was tickling around his ankles as he worked off the uncomfortable shoes. "It's almost been six minutes. If you want to follow your schedule, we need to break you down sooner."

The three were a bit shocked. Was that a tease?! It didn't mater. Iida's head flew back as he shrieked with laughter. His feet wiggled in defense as his legs jolted worse. "Thahahadodorki plhehehease! " It wasn't that he was breathless, his nerves were just in a ticklish over load.

"Just submit and we'll still," Urakara reminded. Right, that was a thing. "I give, " he squealed as she dug into his armpits. "I give, I give!" They stopped quickly, Todoroki using his warming hand to get rid of the feeling on his feet before offering a back rub.

Iida politely declined before moving out of the way to catch his breath. "Okay, I really want to know what Todoroki's giggle sounds like!" The floating girl was practically bursting with inticipation. The dou haired boy sighed as he went to get Iida's glasses. "Thank you, and for before. I agree with Urakara though. I don't think I've even seen you smile before."

Shoto moved a bit closer to Deku, slightly nervous about this. "I know a place to end him, so as long as your really gentle I think it will be okay. He's not really used to being tickled," the green bean explained. The other two nodded. It made sense given his relationship with his father.

A small giggle left Todoroki's lip as Deku kneaded into his lower sides. "W-Whait, " he squeaked. He uncrossed Deku's legs before sitting between them. It was just.... he was really nervous and he really felt close with Deku. The other blushed slightly before slowly processing the unsaid fear. "I gotcha Shoto, just relax."

This was too cute. Urakara squealed softly. "You guys are so cute!" Had it not crossed her mind that Shoto was a possible threat to her? The boy started to giggle and curl up when he saw Deku's hands come around from behind. The sight even made dear Iida blush slightly. This was.... truly adorable. "I-Izuku, " Todoroki giggled as fingers he rly found his tummy.

Urakara wasted no time hopping in and taking a leg. "Iida, gett he other!" The class rep. nodded before grabbing on. Todoroki squealed from the action alone before really giggling when fingers tickled along his sole and thigh.

His pants were similar to those of his uniform, but less thing. This had some advantage as he cod hardly feel the touches; But seeing them was killing him. It didn't help Urakara was playing with his toes and Midoriya was working his way up to the other's armpits.... tickling each rib softly as he went.

"It.... It tickles, " he squealed as he moved around. Deku wrapped his arms around the other before gently clawing at his tummy. Now with his torso and legs trapped, the sweet heart start to visually submit. His giggles were so soft and sweet! The small ish on his face made it even better as he was being rather shy about this.

Sure, he didn't put up much of a fight with Deku the last time.... but he wasn't used to this yet. That and there were two other people tickling him. "Urakara! " She'd spead up a bit. "Oops, sorry Shoto!" Iida looked to his watch. "Deku, if you going to show us the defeating move, you should do it now." It had been eight minutes of soft touches and teases.

The other nodded before looking at Todoroki who shook his head. "Just one? I'll blow a raspberry and stop, I promise." The boy blushed worse before passing his hand over. Taking the warm one, Deku inhaled sharply before blowing into the palm. Todoroki shrieked worst than Iida from before. He collapsed and kicked his freed legs helplessly. "And I'm done, " Deku cheered softly as he started to calm the other.

Urakara was dead, as was the strict Sonic. It was just so sweet and pure! "Your turn, " Todoroki huffed before turning so he was sitting in Deku's lap facing him. He held himself up before shutting the legs and pushing the other back. It was a cuter sight. Deku was trying to hold him while he did so. He needed something to hold it felt like. But Iida took his arms and pinned them over head before he could grab anything.

The hoodie rose, revealing a freckled tummy. A smile appeared on a three's faces before they dug in. Iida on armpits and ribs, Urakara on legs and hips, and Todoroki on tummy and sides.

As exslexted.... the ticklish bean didn't last long. "Gahahauys nahahao! Hahahaha, p-plhehehease!" Iida looked at his watch. "It's only been about sixty two seconds Midoriya." Urakara looked over on amazement. "Longer than I thought He'd last." Todoroki nodded in agreement before scratching inside the boy's navel.

"I SUBMIT, NAHAHAO!" Iida looked at them in co fusion before the two nodded. All three stopped, allowing the bean to curl up and catch his breath. Well.... Todoroki's body wasn't letting him. The boy pouted before shoving a bit at the other and tickling him for freedom. Shoto giggled before pushing the hands away and fall in onto his small bed on the ground.

Deku was quick to follow before they wrestled like puppies for dominance. Finger in Deku's navel, and hand to Deku's lips. The two shrieked before collaspsing on top of each other. As they squirmed like small litter mates trying to find a good place to sleep on the other, their friends watched quietly.

Iida was blushing from the display of affection as Urakara was taking pictures. This was.... far too cute and sweet. "Should we bring them back food," the Sonic asked. The floaty girl nodded. "Who knows, they may start again while were gone."

They left unnoticed, only to come back to what they exspected. Two puppies rolling around trying to get the upper hand on the other. They sighed as they say the two trays on the desk and watched the show with their own meals. They'd need to do this more often.

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