#( thans x 1000 for being the first guest )

[lgcxnoeul]

【✖】 LEGACY HALL BATTLE — EPISODE 001

Somehow, his show had been green-lit and his vision had been executed to the minute detail. He hadn't doubted that the production team would pull through for him, but he felt even more responsible to deliver the best first episode that he possibly could for the sake of the team and his first guest. He had lucked out that Hayun had been willing to appear on his first episode. He didn't have to worry about whether or not their personalities would be incompatible and could focus on preparing for his talking points. In fact, he was counting on Hayun to reel him back if he teetered into hyperactive territory, but wasn't he supposed to be the one in control?

The camera starts recording a seemingly empty office space, leather chair facing the wall rather than tucked underneath the desk. He swivels the chair to face the camera, holding a neon green megaphone in his hand with the letters "LHB" inscribed in purple. He lifts the bill of his baseball cap with the rim of the megaphone's horn, cheeky smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Welcome." Noeul greets the camera, rising from the chair to maneuver around the table and casually sit upon the edge of the desk. He had preemptively directed his friend to act as she normally would, but there was no knowing how his 'surprise attack' would go. "You're tuning into Legacy Hall Battle's first episode. I'll be your host, Han Noeul. Grab a snack while I find our first guest and prepare for your facial muscles to have a work out today."

He doesn't have to travel far, barely four rooms away to find his friend in a practice room. He turns to the camera, leaning closer to whisper before turning the knob to open the door before entering with the production team and camera crew. "Here we have our first guest, Lee Hayun!" He lifts the megaphone only to speak into it when he states her name, playfully offering the megaphone to the girl only to retrieve it. "Will you please do us the honor and introduce yourself?"

@lgchayun

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

Hi Sweet🖤

could I please request some Bodyguard!Price x Socialite chubby f!reader?

• He's late 30's, she's mid - late 20's

• despite being a socialite, reader is anything but social. She's introverted house plant with hobbies including being alone and keeping to herself.

• She's been through bodyguards before , because she hated being treated like a daft rich person so Price comes in under the impression she's spoilt and impossible until he sees a whole different story.

• Price goes from 'I'm gonna hate her guts' to 'I want to be in her guts'

• Please add forced proximity (living together), and give them that teeeension 🥺

• nsfw is 1000% welcome if you're keen.

There's no rush for this at all if you decide to do it, whenever is convenient for you is fine by me. Please write this however you feel is most comfortable to you. I'll appreciate it all the same 🫰🏼

Thank you🥀

Sorry this is late!

At first he doesn't like you. Flat out. Retiring early from the military caused him to need a sort of transition job so he figured he'd take on being a bodyguard. He definitely has the credentials, so why not?

He's not a fan of rich people, but hey, money is money. What he wasn't expecting was to be set up with a pretty thing like you. It almost made it worse. He figured, given your lifestyle, that you'd be like the others.

You're quiet, direct, and come off a stuck up. You never keep conversation going, and he doesn't bother to finish. It's his job. He keeps you safe. That is all he is required to do.

It all changes when you go to a social gathering, a political part to celebrate a successful election as of late. He hadn't seen you in a social setting before until now. You're just like how you are at home; Quiet, reserved, not talking unless needed to.

He realizes your behavior towards him isn't one of defiance, or being stuck up, but one of nature. He realizes it's possible social anxiety. It would make sense. You were pressured from a young age to be surrounded by people, standards higher for you than other people, every movement being watched.

His attitude towards you changes almost immediately. He makes you tea (or whatever drink you like most) for you before you wake up. He watches tv with you in the living room, allowing you to warm up to his presence in a more comfortable way. Conversation starts slowly, but eventually you become close. You apologize for being so closed off and unwelcoming at the beginning, but he reassures you that he understands and came to realize you just needed time.

It isn't until around 8 months that he begins to notice you. He walks by your room to the guest room (basically his now) when he hears a whimper from yours. It doesn't sound like pain, but he pauses outside your door just incase. It isn't until he slows his breathing that he notices the soft buzzing coming through the door. Your whimpers sound more strained, trying to keep quiet but you let out a moan as you gently swipe the vibrator over your clit. You turn it off, panicked that he may have heard you, but turn it back on when you notice there's no noise.

He stays for your climax, unable to move if he wanted. His cock is restrained in his boxers, painfully tight. You sound so pretty as you cum, he can't help but his heads feels all fuzzy. He quickly walks to the guest room, not even bothering to quiet his footsteps. He cums so hard that night, imagining your pretty lips wrapped around him. All spread out below him, pussy gripping his like a fucking vice.

A month passes by since that night and he can't help but get hard every time your hand brushes against his arm, unable to keep his mind off of if that's the hand you used. He excuses himself every time to go wait for his cock to soften before being around you again. It gets to a point where you begin to think he doesn't enjoy being around you.

He overhears you talking to a friend on the phone about how he's been distant. You admit to her that you like him and don't understand why he's acting like this again. His stomach sinks a little when he realizes it's upsetting you, but he walks away before you see him.

Later that night, he hears the buzzing coming from your room again, but it's different this time. Your whimpers come out as pants, his name tumbling from your mouth as you begin to feel the knot in your stomach form. He groans and pushes the door open. You yelp and try to cover yourself but he yanks the blanket from you, pulling you to the edge of the bed by your ankles.

"You been hidin this from me, love?" He taunts, spreading your legs and taking a look at your pussy, "Look at how wet she is. Why're you hidin her from me? It's okay, I'll treat her good" He says before getting on his knees and showing you how much he wants you.

[octopus-punching-union]

Subaru Kagami headcanons

(some spoilers for Hotarubi chapter)

kind of a foodie

Has never thought of himself like that and would deny it if you ever pointed it out

"But of course I spend hours thinking about what snacks and tea my friends would like. It's just part of being a gracious host"

He doesn't really cook, though. If he tried, he could follow a recipe competently, but he would never serve a guest anything less than perfect. And cooking just for himself is a lot of effort and he's not very good at doing nice things for himself. (He has just hot water for breakfast??! Not even tea or coffee??)

He remembers his friends' favorites and makes sure he always has something they like on hand

(don't think about him being alone after the Clash and trying to figure out what to do with his stash of Zenji's favorite things)

On a lighter note. He was checking out Sho's food truck the instant it appeared on campus — he totally went to the mystery diner exactly once when it first opened. Like, even before Ren got hired, when it was just the anomalies working there. It was extremely awkward (he had so many questions and the anomalies can't talk), but he was polite and has never gone back. He doesn't even like to walk past the diner anymore because he feels so awkward about it.

sensory issues

Since he picks up residual memories from just about everything he touches, Subaru is very intentional about everything he buys — especially clothes that are touching his skin all day

Given all the issues with working conditions in the production of clothing, he has a hard time buying clothes and needs to touch everything. There are probably a few students in Hotarubi who are really passionate about sewing, knitting, or other textile crafts, and he goes to them whenever possible.

He puts so much work into helping you pick out a yukata for the summer festivals. He's anxious about taking up too much of your time, so he'll go beforehand so that he can take his time touching everything. He wants it to be perfect and to suit you in every way.

childhood / "rebellion"

Gifted kid burnout x 1000. Subaru has been working since he was four years old and his family is a big deal — he's been in the public eye since he was very young and always had to be on his best behavior because someone was always watching. (No wonder he has anxiety...)

So like, a lot of people who had a strict upbringing kinda go off the rails as soon as they get a little bit of freedom. But to (formal, reserved, self-conscious) Subaru, "subversive" means things like: 1) being a normal student at a normal school (not actually normal at all), 2) lying about the true nature of his stigma so that he won't be ostracized by his peers, and 3) advocating, through the proper channels, for his werewolf bff to be released from prison.

He feels like he's in his rebellious phase right now though, and that's what matters. Plenty of ordinary things feel thrilling just because he was never allowed to do them. Just being around people his own age is exciting! He's never had friends before.

(Ever since he was little, school always took backseat to his kabuki career. Now he's at the top of his class! He's so good at rebelling, guys 🥲)

He is (very slowly) learning to relax and be less formal. Zenji's death really affected him, and he doesn't seem totally comfortable around Haku. I'm really hoping Sho will help him to feel more confident and free!Lyca will cause problems and help him loosen up a little.

I really want him to go on a motorcycle ride with Sho at some point. I ship it think it would be cute. He would over-apologize for being nervous and clingy and Sho wouldn't even clock it as a big deal.

as your boyfriend

No matter what you do, your relationship will be a really slow burn. He's hesitant, afraid of doing something wrong, and genuinely doesn't understand why you would want him. You'll have to be the one pursuing him. (But, if you're patient, your relationship completely changes as he becomes more comfortable and confident.)

He loathes his stigma. It means you'll never have privacy from him, and at first he thinks you haven't considered the extent of it. Of course you'll change your mind, he thinks, once you realize it's constant and unending. He thinks of his affection and desire as an imposition that you'll find offputting, at best.

(Besides, there are plenty of people who would be better suited to being your partner, he thinks. Haku is so relaxed and has no problem joking around with you. Zenji is passionate and unafraid to express his admiration for you. In comparison, Subaru feels quiet and awkward and unable to talk about how he truly feels.)

He can't control what he sees with his stigma. It's frequently innocuous, but when he sees something painful or heavy, he feels that he's betraying you. Because you didn't choose to entrust him with those memories.

So when he accidentally sees something heavier, he'll share one of his secrets in return. He wants you to feel safe being vulnerable with him in this way.

(but sometimes, when you're asleep next to him and he's feeling particularly anxious or insecure, he might touch you hoping to see any reassurance that you're happy with him. He trusts you, he really does, but what if he's not good enough? What if you're only pretending to be happy to spare his feelings? He always feels like shit afterwards.)

Because of all this, he's really uncomfortable with physical affection at first. He feels a lot of guilt for wanting to be closer and wanting to touch you, and he worries that you'll think he's creepy or trying to dig through your past. His affection is sporadic, as he spends a lot of time worrying and mentally preparing.

Also, like. He sends a two paragraph text message full of pre-emptive apologies just to ask you to get lunch. He's going to be that stressed about all of your firsts.

Before asking you to be intimate for the first time, he'll wait until he's so pent up that he can't stand it, then he'll feel really awkward about asking. Because what if you don't want him? What if he's pressuring you just by asking? It's ok if you don't want to, he assures you, and he's so relieved when you say yes.

Not at all a fan of PDA. He'll sit closer to you when you're hanging out with the other ghouls. He might hold your hand if he thinks no one's paying attention. I think he would be clingy when really drunk, but then upon sobering up would be so embarrassed if anyone else witnessed it. (Haku would like gently tease him about it and he would be dying inside.)

He expresses his affection more often with food and gifts — nothing extravagant, just little things to show that he's thinking of you. He wants to spend a lot of time with you, even if he seems distant. Some of his more formal mannerisms with always be there, not because he's uncomfortable or trying to distance himself, but as a way of showing how much he respects and cares for you.

Over time, you become someone he can relax with, someone he feels secure around. He'll always hesitate for a moment before touching you, giving you a chance to move away, but he doesn't feel the crushing guilt anymore.

(he still doesn't eat breakfast, but it's because he would rather stay in bed with you in the quiet of the early morning. It helps him calm and center himself before getting up for the day.)

He wants a peaceful life with you, unremarkable except for the love that you share.

[canaidliafail]

what she brings out of me

sadie adler x f!reader

4.5 k words MDI

old piece that isn’t proof read but I wanted to post it. Sort of canon compliant for 1/7 of the story so read at your own risk + bad english ahead. enjoy

hunting with Hosea was a chore more often than not but the man raised you to be the hunter that you are now and you were willing to tolerate the withered old man. He had his fun but he couldn’t do the miles he did before and his aim left much to be desired. But he kept you company and gave you maps for all the legendary animals he wanted to see and you, to catch.

That winter while you sought out shelter and a temporary camp while leaving blackwater,he was more prickly than usual.He insisted you stay in and help Pearston skin and cook the animals and man were you a shitty cook.

Pearston decided he would let you sneak out to hunt being the greedy drunk fool that he was so long as you brought something other than vegetables for the crew to eat.

You had barely managed to mount your horse when Arthur came back with Dutch and the rest with a new guest. a woman, frightened like a rabbit, shaking from the cold and the grief judging from her tear stained cheeks

the crowd came in with questions and she shrunk in herself stepping behind Dutch. You hitched your horse back and half ran your way to them

“This is Ms. Adler. Abigail help her out, she's had a rough night” he said and Abigail approached the woman who seemed reluctant to move from her spot as everyone discussed what took place. fed up with the situation you pushed the others away clearing a path for her and stopped beside Abigail

“Christ people give her some air can't you see she’s frightened?” You commanded and they lowered their heads, hats covering their eyes.

The three of you made your way back into the cabin and left it up to Abigail to talk to the woman.

Men widowed her that night and took everything else with them, money,silver, dignity….

the night was grim and you could hear her weep quietly, mourning her lost husband till daylight hit and she passed out from exhaustion. You woke up first and made coffee and left one by her bunk bed with a note

You probably won’t have much appetite but try to consume some liquids at least

Throughout your whole stay there you never conversed any further than a tip of the hat when you entered the cabin at night and a soft sigh when you replaced her untouched plate and cup in the morning.

You felt for her despite not knowing what it meant to lose a husband. You didn’t know what it meant to even have a husband in the first place

But your heart still ached to see such a lovely woman stripped of all joy and light

•••

“a 1000 pound bear and you thought we could take her out with our piss poor rifles?!” You asked bewildered and glanced at Arthur who had much more patience than you that day, which said a lot. Hosea passed him the map with a hand over his heart still scared and in shock how quickly he came face to face with death

“Ill head back…You two gonna chase after that thing are are you coming with?”

“coming with. Arthur its all yours” You said and mounted your house and he did the same

“Had enough entertainment for now. Let’s head back” He agreed and you all three started the two day journey back talking about everything and how everyone was settling in

“By the way, Karen has been asking for you again”

“hm?” you looked up at Arthur. Of course she was. you leave for a few days and she is looking for you again to let out some steam. You stay at camp and she won’t bat an eye your way. You took little offense however simply enjoying that you had someone to have your fun with when no one was looking

“Ill go by her tent later…” you mumbled

“Speaking of can you keep some company to Ms. Adler as well? You two have a spunky spirit and might lift her up a bit”

Sadie Adler had continued her daily routine of wandering off to the far end of the camp sitting on the rocks and crying. You caught her talking to Abigail more than anyone else and despite wanting to get close to the woman you had no idea how to approach her

“Ill…see what I can do”

you agreed and continued silently too tired to indulge in small talk

you arrived at the hideout the next evening. Arthur took off shortly to go back to blackwater for a lead on some members that stayed behind

You bathed in the dreadfully cold river and made it back to your tent combing your hair into two braids, putting on a clean pair of jeans with a shirt to go out and see if there was any coffee or herbs to make tea.

Your caught Sadie with the corner of your eye sitting by the rocks looking off into the distance and decided to give it your best shot. At this point you were the only woman who had not talked to her and it felt rude

you grabbed two chapped mugs and poured whatever hot liquid was available and made your way to her

“Evening Ms. Adler” she looked up at you

“Good evening”

“Mind if I keep you some company?” you said pushing the warm cup in her direction which she took without protest and schooched to the side giving you space. You sat next to her and looked at the dim light from the sparse fire pits enjoying the cracking of wood and soft unison of voices talking in the background

“Listen Im sure everyone had asked how you are doing so I won’t try to remind you of that but, I hope you are finding your stay with us of some comfort”

you said and dared a fearful look at her admiring her untamed blonde hair and freckled nose. A second longer and you may have found yourself in love with a widow so you turned your sights back on the coals and fire in the distance

“As much as I'd rather be left alone, its nice to have some company” she confessed and you nod, waiting to see if she had anything else to say. With a shaky voice she continued

“I just wish my Jacky was here with me. He was a good man you know, better than anyone out there”

your lips thinned almost feeling her anger. Karen passed in front of you in the distance quirking a brow indicating she would be waiting for you tonight

“I just wish it was me in his place. I feel so lost”

you brought your attention back to her and slowly pressed a hand against her back gently moving it in circles. she leaned into your touch and you felt her breath stutter

“I wish I could take my own life…but i’m not brave enough to do even that” you matched your breathing with her own pulling her closer silently trying to calm her down the minute you felt her shoulders shake

“To be brave is to keep on going. To keep on living” you quietly offered your thoughts and she shook her head tears falling again

“I don’t know…”

you kept caressing her back

“Keep on living Adler. Show those fuckers what you’re made of”

You said boldly and she turned to look at you surprised. she seemed to consider your words and then your face. maybe both. You knew you weren’t good at this but you were satisfied to see the tears stop and her features soften

You smiled and hesitantly tucked a lose strand of hair behind her ear and then stood up

“We are here for you. Take your time to grieve the man. He is worth it” she nod and took in a deep breath looking into the distance, taking a sip from her tea “Thank you for listening” your shrugged “least I can do for a pretty lady. Should you ever seek company my tent is open” you said and saw a soft smile graced her lips for the first time before she turned away. Remorse hit you quick and hard realizing you accidentally just made a pass at her and felt shame drown you.

with a tip of your hat you excused yourself.

You feared you had messed up, spoke too soon and maybe with too much ignorance. You prayed she’d brush your words off. Its not like anyone even considered that a woman could flirt with a woman.

You sought out Karen and her willing touch that night. You forgot yourself in the pleasure of her spread legs and let her soft gasps fill your mind.

However the next day you were surprised to see Sadie with her hair braided and her shirt tucked in neatly with a lovely brown straw hat shielding her face from the sun. she went to pour coffee and caught you staring and for the first time greeted you first with a smile

•••

Days turned into weeks and Sadies curt greetings turned to small talk that turned into long conversation and eventually she took interest in your role with the gang asking of your trips

“a huntress?”

you felt pride in your chest. sure women weren’t expected to do much but you loved that you challenged that standard from a young age

“I feel I am of more use with a bow in the wild than with pins and needles”

“What's up with you managing to have every woman all over you?” Arthur asked one day and you laughed pushing him away with a soft punch on his arm

“Its my talent”

“and here I thought that laid in hunting animals. ‘s that why we’ve been starving lately?”

he asked meaning no harm and you saw his crooked grin and the softness in his eyes, crinkling with wrinkles

“shut up arthur. Don't you have a train to rob or something?”

“my bad, I won’t take any more of your precious time with Ms. Adler”

You also quickly found out Sadie had a sharp tongue and a short temper. Her strength and quip was overshadowed by her grief before but slowly it raised to the surface and more people took interest in her. She grew more familiar with Arthur and her long skirts were slowly replaced by the occasional tight black jeans that accentuated her assets even better

Some nights she was still haunted by nightmares and you took it upon yourself to invite her to your tent. You talked for a while and when she tried to excuse herself you stopped her and patted the side of your bunk bed

“You can sleep here for tonight”

“and you?” you laughed “Ill also sleep here. Never had a sleepover with a friend before?”

“Not like that you prick” she said and laid next to you. Her eyes widened, noticing she was a little too close than she calculated. you held her by the waist guiding her “turn around for me” you whispered and she obliged. You pressed your chest against her back and held her like that and felt her tense shoulders slowly relax only to stiffen again when you spoke again close to her

“Goodnight Sadie”

“goodnight”

It only happened once but after that night You often caught yourself admiring her, those warm brown eyes, the raspy voice that gave you goosebumps and when no one paid you attention you shamelessly eyed her figure.

“You are no better than a man,huntress” Karen teased and leaned next to you against the tree. You chuckled and glanced at her “jealous?”

“you wish” she said. It didn’t go past you that she wore a dress that exposed her chest nicely yet it did little to arouse you and in horror you realized your mind drifted over to Sadie and how nicely she tucked in her shirt leaving no more than two buttons open barely exposing her collar bones

“The boys are going out for some job” she said leaving the invitation and you smirked looking down at her

“Hm…Maybe Ill join them”

“or..” she said and carefully flattened her palms against your chest pretending to fix your bandana for you “you can join me instead” she looked up at you with doe eyes and your lip twitched in a smile. She left swaying her hips and you let your gaze linger for a second before looking up. Sadie stood there with an unspoken question in her eyes and then cocked a brow in challenge.

you took two cigarettes out of your pocket and she approached you accepting your offer. she placed the stick in her lips and you motioned her to come closer.

her head tilted in confusion and you carefully pulled her in by the back of your head till the ends of your cigarettes touched and lit them both in one go

you tucked the lighter back in your pants and she took in a long puff in thought “You seem closer to Karen than the rest. Does your friendship go back in time?”

you laughed at the innocent and awfully unsuspecting question and decided to test the waters

“Friends ? Hardly, we are close though. In different ways” she seemed even more puzzled “Everytime you answer my questions I end up more lost and confused than I was before”

“Maybe I'm just that bad at conversing with others” she chuckled, a low raspy giggle almost “You give yourself too little credit. Had it not been for those coffees you left and your company Id probably still be on that rock crying” you smiled

“Glad I could help” you continued to smoke in silence and you inspected her clothes your eyes falling on the yellow brooch tied around her neck

“That's a nice brooch” she looked down and smiled “thanks. One of the few good things I own”

“Oh don't say that. You have a lovely sense of fashion darling” you held the ornament in your fingers leaning closer feeling her breath fan your cheeks. Something shifted and it wasn't even anymore. you looked up and saw her completely focused on your every movement catching her eyes that were stuck on your lips. Flattered, a cocky smile escaped you.

There was a tense moment that snapped from Peaston calling out to everyone informing them that dinner and drinks were ready.

You both pulled away from each other abruptly and pushed yourself off the tree patting your pants and dusting them off

“Will you join us?” you asked and she shrugged “Was about time I did”

•••

You were drunk. Way too fucking drunk.

“shit how many…” you tried to look around and count how many glasses of whiskey you had. everything was spinning and buzzing. Karen and Mary-beth were singing and you clumsily joined. Sadie sat next to you cracking a joke here and there but still was mostly quiet listening to all of you and sometimes laughing. Karen laid her head on your shoulder and her hand fell on your thigh beneath the table going upwards and staying there fondling your thigh. Too drunk to care if Sadie was looking, you indulged her sensual move and wrapped an arm around her shoulder.

unbeknownst to you Sadie withdrew from you slightly and confused looked at the pair of you her frown growing deeper as Karens hand traveled higher eventually tugging at the metal belt clasp

amidst the chaos- which you were uncertain if there was any due to your drunken state- you remembered getting up and escaping to the quieter place of the camp, then your hands were on Karens hips and her lips on your neck biting and sucking and everything else was a blur

had you been slightly more sober you would have noticed that you weren’t completely hidden. Because Sadie was interested in you in ways she couldn’t explain and she was out looking for you that night. And she unfortunately caught a glimpse of your nasty sexual endeavors with the other woman who you had so willingly pinned against the tree and who elicited the most pornographic sounds

•••

Sadie caught herself interested in you. She liked the fact that you were a huntress and she liked more that you took little pity on her state and gave her solid motivation to get back on track with her life. She realized she chased your polite compliments when she wore a new accessory or when she braided her hair.

but to feel like this towards a woman? how?

she questioned and doubted it immediately believing it was the grief that made her lose her mind. That was until she saw you devouring karen in the deep of the forest. Something woke within her. fiery jealousy and heat bloomed in her chest and her core ached.

She-at first- was convinced she was repulsed by the act, finding it vulgar. than she thought that she was simply taken aback by it but not in an unpleasant way. eventually she decided to sleep frustrated and confused, unable to understand what she felt.

two days later she sought out Karen who seemed very eager to tease and taunt her

“What a voyeuristic eye that you have Adler”

“Are the two of you in a relationship?”

she laughed, loud enough to almost make her feel humiliated and stupid as if the answer was obvious

“Gods no! I mean I know she only likes women but I don’t care for things like that”

“only women?”

“If you ever find yourself with too much frustration pay her a visit. In my opinion every woman should feel her tongue” Sadies eyes widened and then she shook her head in disappointment

“Ill find other ways to keep myself busy” she barked growing angry with Karens games

“Suit yourself. I'm just saying that I trained her well” and with that she left. Sadie was angry. Jealous.She saw Karen marking her territory and she didn’t like that

why does she try to claim something that isnt hers

She avoided you on purpose for the upcoming days and she hated seeing your confusion and visible pain to her dismissive attitude

You once tried to approach her more boldly and in her spitefulness she spat

“what's up with you? Nothing to do?”

You huffed out a frustrated breath and crossed your arms standing in front of her.

“Ive thought about it a lot and it all boils down to you probably finding out I swing the other way”

“I did find out”

you nodded in repeat looking away and she saw your jaw tense and your brows lower “well Fuck me then” you hissed exasperated

“Id like to be alone” she said with a low growl and you scoffed “Really Sadie? Am I that disgusting to you now that you won’t even say goodmorning to me?” you raised your tone and she stood up “Don't you use that tone on me”

“or what?!” she stared at you long and hard. You were the first to break contact and took a step back, arms swinging softly

“You know what Sadie? You wanna be alone ? then be fucking alone” she watched as you turned your back on her and left immediately regretting how sbe handled that conversation.

She didn’t see you for a week after that. That week she herself was busy with her first bounty hunt and she could hardly be happy about it. Her stomach felt like she’d swallowed stones and her throat was dry.

and when you came back it was with Arhur, Hosea and another woman. Someone you rescued on your recent bounty hunt who was as lost as she once was. You attention was on the hurt woman keeping her company making sure she felt secure with your group of people

“Listen we ain’t good but we ain’t them either” you consoled an arm around her shoulders soothing her and Sadie had enough of it. She approached you with heavy steps the heel of her boots digging into the dirt

“I wanna talk to you”

you looked up and the girl in your arms seemed intimidated by her. Sadie disliked that she seemed threatening to an innocent person but her focus was on you and you alone

you silently questioned her, eyes wide, jaw tense as if saying really?! now?!

she stood her ground until you gave in and followed her back to your tent where you could have some privacy

“You wanted to talk? speak”

“Why do you have to be like that?” she asked annoyed and you shook your head defeated “Like what hon? I am around you and you are repulsed, I give you space and you are equally unsatisfied. The hell do you want from me, woman?!”

“I just needed time! Time!” she emphasized the words and you sat down knowing your knees were too weak to handle this unprovoked attitude

“time? for what?” You tried peacefully and truly exhausted knowing someone had to be tame or this conversation wouldn’t go far without resulting in you pulling a gun to each others head

“Christ I- I just was confused. I didn’t know a woman could look at a woman like that”

“And why does it concern you?” you asked and she seemed taken aback. Why indeed

Because I considered you that way too

she came to the conclusion her tongue numb and heavy, unable to speak these words out loud.

She hated how quickly you caught on and in a delightfully predatory way she watched you stand up and approach her, circling her like a vulture

“Sadie did you hate that I look at women like that or did you hate that you weren’t one of those women?”

the hair on the back of her neck rose and heat pooled in her stomach again. A feeling she thought had surely died with her late husband yet here it was.

“I wasn't?” she asked, her confidence faltering. She was sure she caught you staring at her chest, her lips, her hips at first not questioning the wandering gaze until she put the puzzle pieces together to figure out the reason behind it

your hands were on her shoulders running up and down the length of her arms slowly

“Would you like to be?” she turned around and as if in a dance sequence your hands fell on her neck to pull her in for a hungry kiss

She could feel how starved you were in the way your lips pressed against hers tasting her, imprinting the feel of her skin against hers. She returned the notion with equal fervor if not with more and was reluctant to be the one to submit. her hands landed on your hips pulling you in and she was shocked to find how right this position felt. how velvety your tongue felt against her own and how your skin molded into her palms becoming one.

she pulled away to take in a few deep and heavy breaths looking at you and was pleased to find you putty in her arms, to see the mighty huntress small, fragile and ready to do anything she would ask you to

“Do I awaken something in you Sadie?” You asked and held her closer, your arms wrapped around her neck and she responded by kissing you again loving the power and control she had. The passion melted into something more gentle, affectionate and tender and when you pulled away the second time she held your cheek in her hand caressing the flushed skin

“ that answer good enough for you?” she asked with a lazy smirk and you huffed out a laugh still gasping for air “Never thought you packed such heat” you confessed and her ego grew dangerously “You haven’t experienced the half of it”

•••

Unlike you, who was secretive and shameful of your nature the minute Sadie felt sure in herself she didn’t hesitate to greet you with a good morning kiss letting everyone think about what they just witnessed. As outlaws you certainly had bigger problems than two girls deciding to kiss each other and you came to the stupidly obvious realisation. Hosea and Arthur were the first ones to tell you

well we knew men didn’t do it for you, but I didn’t exactly know what did so…I just do now thats all it is

and you felt good about his awkward and reassuring words. Sadie didn’t care on the other hand. if she spent the night in your tent she didn’t hide it and if she felt like making a move on you while at the saloon she would and dealt with the consequences violently and eagerly still needing to vent out her pain and frustrations.

“are you not…scared?” you asked her once at night when you both laid together, naked beneath a thin sheet and she smiled giving you small kisses on your cheeks, jaw, neck

“I am scared of other things darling. Death is one of them. Random drunk men ain’t on the other hand are not”

“You aren’t indestructible Sadie. I worry for you” you confessed and she smiled “Nobody’s taking nothing from me ever again” she said and kissed you “And nobody’s taking me away from you either”

[still-not-over-transformers]

hi! May I request a GN!human Reader x TFA!Swindle,

maybe reader and swindle make some sort of deal with each other (but swindle being swindle) is the one who gets the better end of the deal.

A Mutually Beneficial Partnership

TFA Swindle x GN Human Reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1000+

You were nervous as you stood outside a large warehouse on a pier, waiting amongst a group of other people. This would be the first time you had ever personally attended a black market weapons auction, as you normally had your assistant Steve go in your place and represent you. Well, Steve got arrested for tax fraud and now you were stuck here amongst various shady and unsavory individuals you preferred to avoid. 

You specialized in acquiring illegal merchandize, primarily weaponry, and selling it online through the dark web for maximum profit. Currently the hot items were anything Cybertronian, especially weapons. Ever since those autobots arrived on Earth, acquiring and selling Cybertronian items became very lucrative, but you knew how to be careful. Security opened the large garage-like door to the storage unit, allowing all attendees to enter in single-file, each “guest” being searched for weapons upon entry. 

As you finally entered the venue, you found your seat and waited until the auction began. After the auctioneer graced the stage, multiple black market items began to circulate on and off the stage, many attendees shouting out their bids. Almost as soon as the first Cybertronian item, a null ray, appeared on stage the room was illuminated by bright spotlights. Aggressive voices resounded from loudspeakers held by Officer Fanzone, “EVERYONE PUT YOUR HANDS UP! YOU ARE ALL UNDER ARREST FOR PARTICIPATING IN THE ILLEGAL SALE OF CYBERTRONIAN WEAPONRY.” Various Detroit P.D. officers burst into the venue, followed by none other than Optimus Prime, sending everyone into a panicked frenzy. 

Instead of heading for one of the exits like the other attendees, you made a beeline for the stage entrance, sneaking past the gaze of the officers. You made your way backstage and eventually found your way to the storage area where the illegal items were housed. As you attempted to find an escape route, you heard footsteps not far behind you. As you panicked, you spotted an unattended S.U.V./Jeep vehicle. You rush towards the vehicle and pull on the door handle and quickly climb inside, hoping to hide. 

To your horror, the exit doors of the building open up allowing a flood of Detroit P.D. officers inside. Suddenly the engine turns on, and the vehicle peels towards the exit, forcing the officers to dive out of the way. In the passenger seat, you start to freak out as you’re taken on a terrifying ride via a self-driving car. 

After what felt like a lifetime, the vehicle finally came to a stop after reaching a rural and isolated area away from the warehouse. The passenger door opens and you bolt out of the vehicle, adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

Suddenly the vehicle before you transformed into a massive robot. No, a Decepticon, you thought as you recognized the purple insignia on the robot. The Decepticon, Swindle, looked down at (Y/N), “Well, if this isn’t an unexpected situation we have here. That was a close call with the police and Optimus Prime of all things.” 

You were in shock, but you were also upset at this situation you were now in. You shouted up at Swindle, “Unexpected situation? You’re the one who kidnapped me!” 

Raising an optic ridge at (Y/N), Swindle leans downwards to get a closer look, “Well pardon the intrusion, but you were the one who tried to use me to hide. Not to mention, I graciously helped you escape. Otherwise you’d most likely be in a prison cell, hm?”

You froze, surprised by both the nerve and wit of this Decepticon, and the fact that you hadn’t been blasted to smithereens yet. Hesitantly you spoke, “Okay you have a point… Thank you?”

“HEYY, think of it as an investment towards a future partnership!” Swindle gestures towards you. “Now, what is a human like you doing attending a black market auction for Cybertronian weapons? You don’t look the type if I’m being honest,” he notices your attire lacked the usual ‘shady’ vibe most humans dawned at such criminal events. 

You were hesitant to divulge any of your personal information to a Decepticon, but you had no idea what he would do if you weren’t cooperative. “This was my first time going to one of these things. Normally I hire someone to attend for me, but my usual go-to was compromised so I had to cut ties and go myself.” 

Swindle is intrigued by your response, a smirk creeping across his face as he senses a potential opportunity before him to gain a human puppet *ahem* partner… He flashed an optimistic and charming smile, “You know, I’m actually looking for a partner myself. Perhaps you and I could… make a deal? Form a sort of… mutually beneficial relationship? Professionally speaking, of course.”

Being in a tight spot yourself, you entertained the idea. After all, when would you get such an opportunity again? A Cybertronian business partner could provide certain advantages which your competitors surely lacked. “And what exactly do you propose?” you asked curiously, wondering what sort of arrangement you’d be getting yourself into. 

“Nothing unreasonable or too risky. You’d be attending more of these events, and you’ll spot the merchandise. Relay what you see back to me, and I’ll tell you which items are worth the most. And depending if we’re short on funds, you let me in the back and we’ll slip out with the merchandise and be out of there before anyone knows what hit em.”

After weighing the pros and cons, you give your answer, “Decepticon, I think you have a deal” extending your hand towards him. 

Swindle struggles to keep his smile genuine as you agree, “The name’s Swindle, and you, my new business partner?”

“Y/N. I suppose this will be a rather interesting partnership,” you replied, a nervous smile on your face.  A smug look crossed Swindle’s faceplate before he transformed into his alt-mode and opened the door for you. A very interesting partnership… his thoughts were dubious to say the least as the two of you drove away.

[dispatchvampire]

Damsel in This Dress

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x FemaleOC

Warnings: Not many, probably mostly swearing. This is just a bit of fluff.

Rating: PG-13 mostly for language

WC: 1000-ish.

Summary: Layla finds herself stranded at a Stark gala, with her terrible ex circling like a shark. Enter an unlikely savior in the form of one smoking hot Winter Soldier.

Most people would be absolutely elated to be a guest at a Tony Stark party. All the glitz and glamour, celebrities at every turn and, in Layla’s case, not a single place to hide, dammit. 

She wasn’t there as an actual guest, really a plus one for her parents, who actually were the guests of Mr. Stark as newly minted business partners. They just merged the R&D department of their alternative energy company to Stark Industries, where she was due to start work in the following weeks. By all rights, Layla should be over the moon with the trajectory of her life. 

‘Should’ being the operative word. No, the rain on her parade came in the form of Charleton Zednik, son and heir apparent of a separate business partner of both her parents and Mr. Stark. He also happened to be her absolutely abysmal ex. 

As tight as her cocktail dress was, somehow Charleton managed to cling even more tenaciously. 

Maybe it wasn’t the most charitable thought, but she’d rather have a raging case of herpes than carry on one more day with his bland ass. He was so rigid, she wasn’t convinced he wouldn’t shatter if he hit the ground for any reason, and what he lacked in imagination, he more than made up for in possessive personality. Since she’d broken up with him over two weeks ago, he’d been blowing up her phone, her socials, and had even had her parents lobbying on his behalf. 

On paper, they were the perfect couple, two scions of an up-and-coming green energy revolution, and if arranged marriage was still a thing, Layla knew she would have been out the door the moment Charleton first looked in her direction. Her parents meant well, she knew, but damn if they weren’t still unreasonably old school about some things. 

It was late in the evening and she found herself alone, at the bar, relishing her reprieve as Charleton had to step away and take a work call. Hopefully he’d be gone long enough for her Uber to arrive so she could make a break for it. She ordered a double lemon drop while she waited. 

“You look how I feel,” a gruff male voice beside her remarked as her martini glass appeared in front of her. “Are you okay?”

Layla was mid-sip as she turned to reply to the kind inquiry and promptly choked on her drink. In front of her was Bucky Goddamn Barnes. The Winter-Fucking-Soldier, all six feet four inches of him, in an impeccably tailored tux, with his luscious dark hair artfully tied back and sea-glass blue eyes soft with concern. 

Flailing for a napkin, she nodded her thanks as he pressed several into her hand. “Um, yeah. Thanks,” she choked out as she blotted her face and attempted to quell her mess. “Sorry. Really. I’m fine.”

“All evidence to the contrary aside.” His smirk should be registered as a lethal weapon. 

Layla ducked her head, snickering even as her cheeks filled with mortified heat. “Right.” She sipped her drink again, regaining her composure enough to look the man in the face when a movement over his shoulder caught her eye. 

Whatever her face did in that moment must have been dramatic, because Bucky immediately moved closer to her and glanced quickly over his shoulder. Taking a hold of her elbow, he shifted to put himself between the approaching man and her. “Do you need to leave?” 

Charleton’s eyes met hers across the room and the scowl on his face grew in intensity as he sped up his approach. Layla looked up at Bucky, who appeared poised to deal with whatever answer she gave him. “Yes please.” 

He nodded once and threw a twenty on the bar. “Let’s go.” Gently, he ferried her through the room, the path in front of him opening up as if by magic. If that magic could be attributed to a scowling former assassin with a beautiful woman on his arm. 

In no time at all, you were both in the elevator watching the city lights fade on the ride to one of the upper floors. For all that he’d been in her space to get her there, the moment the doors closed, he stepped away and maintained a respectful distance. 

“Why are we going upstairs? Why not just hustle me out of the building?” 

“He saw us together, right?” 

“Right…?

“Then chances are good he’s expecting us to make a break for it and leave, so he’ll likely head down to the lobby and to wait and make a scene there.” 

That did sound like him. She was suddenly tired. So, so tired. “So then where are we going?” 

“My place,” he replied as the elevator dinged to a halt. He held an arm out and allowed her to precede him onto the penthouse floor. “At least until he cools his jets and leaves.” 

“I don’t see that happening anytime soon,” she muttered, feeling both vexed at her ex and slightly exhilarated at the idea of being alone with Bucky. This was not how she saw her night going in the slightest, and suddenly wondered if she remembered to put on matching underwear. 

The giant gave her a million-watt grin as he tugged off his bowtie and tossed it onto the dining room table as he led her through the large, open concept room to the kitchen island. “Then you’re welcome to stay as long as you like.”

[grizzersmamma]

Ballroom Blaze | RCS AU | Rosiex17

Pairing: Rosie (Trans Clone Trooper OC) x Alpha-17

Warnings: Slavery, Slave AU, Implied Non-Con (Slave Owner), Trans Fetishism (Slave Owner & Mentioned from Background Slave Owners).

Tagging: @commander-marlo

A/N: So, this fic got too long for me to copy and paste it into Discord without having to break it up into 1000 little bits. As a result, I'll be posting it here! RCS AU belongs to @commander-marlo

Description: Rosie has been doing her best to survive in her new position providing pleasure to the natborn owning her but struggles with it greatly. At an event she attends with her new master she comes across a familiar face.

It’s been months since Rosie last lay eyes on a fellow clone. Painful, lonely, mortifying months where she has had ever inch of her body touched and invaded and the tiny amount of privacy she had left has been thrown out the window. Despite never having a moment to herself, she’s never felt so isolated and miserable in her life. Clones are supposed to be together, going alone can cause immense stress in their lives, and with so much change going on around her the lack of familiar faces, she’s not doing too well.  

Being dragged along to some fancy event by her new ‘owner’ is not what she was hoping for, but the moment they reach the front steps they are greeted by two of Rosie’s brothers and she can near enough feel the tension falling from her shoulders. Being so exposed and scantily clad in the dress she’s been forced into has had her on edge all evening, but knowing there are brothers nearby calms her nerves.  

The trooper that greets them offers a polite introduction to the estate they are visiting and provides instructions for them to navigate towards the ballroom the event is being held in. Lyone, her master, barely pays any attention, waving the trooper off, but Rosie offers him a genuine smile as they pass. The trooper gives her a nod in return and she feels warmth spread through her chest.  

She honestly wouldn’t have been surprised if she wasn’t recognized as a clone at all – her new master had preferred her with bright blonde hair and had wanted to alter her figure so it looked much more feminine, giving her breast implants with enough bacta to make it look natural due to the lack of scarring – she's also been done up with enough makeup that she almost looks like another person entirely to those unused to seeing a brother wearing it.  

She looks like a completely different person now, and when she looks in the mirror she no longer recognizes the person looking back. Although, she isn’t sure if that’s because of the new appearance, or the way her soul has been worn down and crushed under foot. But knowing at least one of her brothers can still see *her* under everything, it’s enough to almost bring her to tears. Almost. She knows better than to ruin her makeup with something as weak as tears.  

When they get into the main ballroom, the light is almost blinding compared to the dark night sky they had just been walking through. The jewels hanging from her figure catch the light and make her entire body sparkle. Rosie’s pretty sure she’d wearing more gems than the massive chandelier hanging high above them. They rattle a little when she moves, but they’re hanging loosely enough that she can still move fairly freely. 

Her shiny appearance, unfortunately, seems to draw the attention of some of the other guests. Rosie feels her stomach roll uncomfortably at all of the disgusting stares being thrown her way so openly. It reminds her of the first time the RCS decided to show off their ‘products’ by picking out the prettiest troopers they could and dressing them to the nines.  

She had made the mistake of letting her real gender slip and the people in charge had leapt at the chance to offer their clients a glimpse at a female clone. Some of the guests had laughed and mocked her, because how could a meat droid like a clone even grasp a concept as complicated as gender? Others had seemed uncomfortably interested, leering after her with lustful stares and touches that lingered just a little too long.  

Her current master was one such foul creature, drooling over her like a massiff, the same predatory glint in his eyes as he tears her body and mind to little pieces all for his pleasure. He’d whisper such nasty words into her ears while he defiles her body, touching places that should be reserved for only those she loves and accepts. She never realized that sex could feel so uncomfortable and painful until Lyone had attempted to “pleasure her”. Not that he’d managed to accomplish anything even close to a pleasurable sensation in her.  

His arm is wrapped around her waist, directing her around the fancy room while he laughs and chatters with other equally as dull-witted people. Occasionally, one will comment on her appearance, make jokes, or just outright laugh at how silly a concept it is for a clone to look so feminine. Some try to touch her, but thankfully, Lyone is rather possessive and refuses to let their grimy hands taint her skin and fancy clothes.  

She does her best to distract herself with watching the troopers stationed around the room as protection for the people inside. Their armour lacks the paint that would normally tell which squad or battalion a man belonged to. It’s impossible to know who is around them – it could be the very men she spent her years with on Coruscant – but regardless of who it was, they still comforted her. It gave her the strength to smile and nod and laugh at all the pathetic jokes the natborns offered.  

Rosie begins to drift, simply going through the motions as if on autopilot. Listen to someone new introduce themselves, offer her name in return, smile politely when they start chatting away to her master, talking about her as if she isn’t there. She’s entirely zoned out of the conversation, until a flash of blue and white catches her attention.  

She blinks, glancing up at the circle of troopers around the room. She feels her breath catch, her heart thundering in her ears as she watches one clone speaking with whichever trooper is in charge of the group.  

Apparently, Alpha is overseeing the squad providing protection, because there he stands, in full armour, still adorned with his bright blue stripes and accents. As always, he was a striking man compared to everyone around him, tall and muscular and as intimidating as ever. He finishes speaking to the brother, before turning around and looking directly at her.  

His helmet tilts minutely, just enough to signal that his full attention is on her, and Rosie feels her stomach flare with excitement. But there’s also a painful longing there, a wish to run and throw herself into her lover’s arms so that she can be protected from all the hurts of the world. She wants to bawl her eyes out against his chest and disappear.  

She turns, leaning closer to Lyone and asks, “may I step outside for a while, master? I need a breath of fresh air.” She’s immediately waved off by her owner who is far too deep in the conversation he’s having with another few natborns.  

Rosie tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear and does her best not to grin or skip away from the hall too eagerly. She heads toward the nearest hallway – a hallway she’s yet to see anyone wander down and should hopefully be void of any prying eyes – and catches in the corner of her vision, Alpha muttering a brief word to the clone in charge, before moving to follow after her.  

She can feel his eyes burning into the back of her head, causing butterflies to flutter around in her stomach, intensifying with each step she takes away from the ballroom and toward privacy. What will he think of her now? She hasn’t seen him in months, anything could have happened to him to make him change his mind on their relationship. If he knows what she’s been rented out to her current owner for, then she certainly wouldn’t blame him should he decide she’s no longer worth the effort of pursuing.  

The sound of his steps behind her, increasing in speed the moment they’re out of sight, has her heart thundering. No matter what happens, she’s determined to face it head on.  

Rosie stops walking when she turns a corner, deciding that she’s far enough away from the ballroom and all of the natborns. She takes a deep breath and goes to turn around, only to have the Alpha clone’s hands on her immediately, pushing her back against the wall. There are warm, cracked lips desperately pressing against hers, and for a moment she freezes, her breath catching, before she remembers who she’s with, melting into the intimate gesture.  

She doesn’t even recall seeing Alpha remove his helmet, but for some reason it’s laying on the ground while its owner works to completely ravage her. It’s a glorious feeling, to have someone she loves so deep in her bones kissing at her with the desperation of a dying man.  

But the moment is over far too quickly, and Alpha is pulling back to look her over, cupping her face so tenderly with his gloved hands. His eyes roll over her face, taking in every detail as though he’ll never see them again. She waits with bated breath for him to speak, for Rosie feels as though she’s entirely incapable of speech.  

“I preferred you with black hair,” Alpha says simply.  

Rosie bites down on her lip to stop herself from outright bursting out laughing. Of course. No “I missed you” nor a “it’s good to see you”, merely a comment that most women would take great offense to. It’s so very much an Alpha comment. Oh, how she’s missed this big idiot. “I missed you, di’kut,” she grins, wrapping her arms around him and pressing her face against the armour of his chest.  

One hand gently cards through her hair, while another is wrapped around her to hold her close to his body. “Don’t worry, you’re still beautiful,” he reassures her, and Rosie snickers at him again, her shoulders shaking slightly with the force of her contained laugher. She glances up at him and notes the mischievous glint in the man’s eyes and knows she must look the same as she smiles up at him.  

“Well, I’m glad I still meet your approval,” she says, rolling her eyes dramatically while poking out her bottom lip in a pout.  

“There’s no way you ever wouldn’t,” he breathes in a low whisper, leaning down nice and close to Rosie’s ear. He nips at the shell of her ear, and she shivers, tilting her head to give him more access to the side of her neck. “And you won’t have to miss me, not after this,” he continues.  

Rosie makes a questioning sound at his statement, but only receives a soft “mhm,” from him in answer. She isn’t entirely sure what he’s talking about – surely, he knows she can’t just decide to leave while her ‘owner’ is still here – but she quickly forgets all that when a hand reaches up to start playing with her chest.  

The hand pauses upon finding the flesh of Rosie’s new breast, and she looks up at the slightly confused sound she hears. Alpha is just dumbly staring at where his hand meets her chest, blinking in evident surprise. He raises and eyebrow at her, finally meeting her gaze, “did you ask for these?” 

“Well, I didn’t exactly have a choice in getting them, but I was hoping to get them after the war...” She doesn’t bother with the rest of her comment. They had all expected things to get at least a little better for them after the war, but it seems that it was not to be. “I like them, they’re a nice size, and it was a professional job,” she adds truthfully. They certainly helped her to feel more at home in her body, even if the situation behind them wasn’t the best.  

Satisfied with that answer, Alpha takes a step even closer into her personal space, before he removes both of the gloves and armour from his hands. He drops them into his upturned helmet, then with all the tenderness of someone holding a newborn babe, starts to drag his hands up the length of her thighs. The dress begins to bunch up and is slowly lifted up with every inch of her body Alpha explores. His hands are rough with calloses, but they’re familiar and everywhere they come into contact with her flesh immediately flare with heat.  

Lyone’s hands have always been cold and clammy, befitting of the slimy man they belonged to, by Alpha’s hands burn her body with their mere touch, making her breath quicken and her stomach tingle with an interest that is quick to spread to lower areas. “I’ve missed you,” she whispers again, this time breathily as she closes her eyes against the delightful sensation of her man’s touch.  

“I know,” she hears him whisper back, his mouth returning briefly to press a kiss to her lips, “I couldn’t find you, I thought that-” he cuts himself off, and Rosie opens her eyes again. Her heart aches at the uncertainty in his eyes, and she wishes more than anything she could banish it from them. Uncertainty has never been a trait she’s associated with Alpha, and for good reason. He’s always been self-assured and confident in his actions, with a gentle tenderness hidden within for those he holds close.  

She pulls him close again, pressing their lips together in a more drawn-out kiss, before pressing their foreheads together. “You think I’d let some pathetic natborn do me in?” she asks, feigning disgust. She smiles when she hears the amused snort that draws out of him, continuing in her wounded tone, “I’m hurt, alor. Surely you think better of me than that.”  

“I thought ladies liked having a big, strong man to come and save them from danger?” He has that dangerous look in his eyes again, and Rosie just laughs, pecking his mouth again.  

“I’ll have you know I’m a perfectly competent fighter, not some damsel in one of those terrible holo-shows our vod’e insist on destroying their braincells with,” she smirks, “but I suppose I could be convinced to play along, if your ego can’t handle a strong woman taking care of herself.”  

Alpha laughs aloud at that, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’ve got all your vod’e tricked, thinking you’re some sweet little angel. You’re a real devil deep down, aren’t you?” he gives a jab to her side and offers a broad grin when she can’t help squealing slightly. Before she can scold him, however, his hands continue their journey up her body.  

Rosie has to bite back the gasp that threatens to escape her when finally, his bare hands settle on her breasts, cupping them gently while his thumbs caress her already hardening nipples. He makes an appreciative hum, not seeming to notice when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. “I’m going to enjoy taking my time with these,” he says, staring directly into Rosie’s eyes, “I need to get reacquainted.”  

At that Rosie frowns, “we have to do this now, Alpha,” she pleads, knowing that her voice has gained a slightly frantic edge, “I’m only here for a few more hours, then...” She can’t even say it, tears already dangerously close to ruining her makeup as her breathing starts to grow panicked. This could be it, the last time she feels him, the last time she *sees* him. She can’t let him leave, not when she knows it’ll likely be the last time they meet.  

“Shhhh,” Alpha coos, removing his hands from her and letting her dress drop back down to cover her body. He cups her face again, kissing below her eyelids to rid her soft cheeks of the tears painting them. “You let me worry about that, verd’ika. I promise, you’ll be safe from now on,” He says it with such conviction, ensuring to hold her gaze unblinkingly. “You trust me, don’t you?”  

Rosie nods, placing her hands over Alpha’s, feeling their warmth seeping into her own. “Always,” she promises.  

She had thought that he looked truly fierce in that moment as he accepted her proclamation of trust, but that was nothing in comparison to the terrifying figure he cut silhouetted against the roaring flames of carnage and destruction he’d single-handedly caused. The mansion burns bright under the dark skies above, the scent of scorched flesh thick in the air.  

He turns, and Rosie’s heart skips a beat. Alpha’s visor glows an ominous green as he stares her down, standing upon the rubble of the fallen walls. He holds a hand out to her and she comes to him, accepting his assistance in climbing the crumbled stone in her fancy dress. He holds her hand, stroking her knuckles with his thumb as they both look out at the roaring blaze before them.  

Watching a fire turn their enemies to ash while standing under the moon and stars.  

How utterly romantic.  

[lokis-little-fawn]

Happy New Year

Paring: Loki x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1.7k

Summary: After traveling to Asgard Loki is determined to court you in a proper way. Will you convince him to break with tradition?

Warnings: SMUT (ONLY READ IF YOU ARE 18+) fingering, unprotected penetrative sex, slight handjob, choking (blink and you’ll miss it), public sex (kind of)

It had been two weeks since you first came to Asgard. Loki had found you on earth and immediately fallen in love with you.

As exciting as seeing a new planet had been, you would much rather be doing something else, seeing more of Loki, much more.

In the two weeks you had been here you hadn’t slept together, you’d been placed in a separate room. You knew that it was custom on Asgard to be courted but in all honestly you you were desperate to have sex with your god.

The second week you had been here marked the Asgardian new year. There was a huge party being throw in the palace and hundreds of nobles were invited to the giant celebration.

Loki had made sure that you were dressed in the finest Asgardian attire. You wore a long dark green velvet dress adorned with golden jewellery. He as always was impeccably dressed, his large chest covered by intricate leather armour with a long green cape flowing behind him. Lower down he wore dark green trousers and dark brown boots. He looked phenomenal as always, which only made things worse for you, desperate to rip all of the armour off the second he walked towards you.

‘My love, are you ready to greet our guests?’

Loki asks leaning against the open doorway of your room watching you glide red lipstick over your lips.

‘Yes, let’s go’ you say breathing in sharply through your teeth.

‘Is something wrong my love?’ He questions.

‘No, nothing at all’ you smile sweetly as he holds out his arm for you to wrap your hand around.

Entering the room all eyes dart to the newest royal couple. After a few hours of polite Royal chit chat, the older members of the party depart to their rooms. This allows the younger, which to you still meant over 1000 years old, people in attendance to have their own more lively party.

As the night goes on you watch as Loki and his brother drink fairly heavily, sitting on the steps at the bottom of Odin’s throne. Thor drinking visibly more than Loki, allowing Loki to take advantage of his brothers drunken state using his magic to trick his brother easily the more inebriated he grows.

You have been sipping at the same glass of Asgardian red wine since you first arrived at the party, having such a strong drink you had been thoroughly tipsy from the second mouthful.

‘Brother, as much as I appreciate your company I will have to ask my beautiful companion for a dance’ Loki says with love in his eyes standing and offering you his hand, helping you from the steps you have placed yourself upon.

‘I’d love to’ standing and brushing your dress down, you make your way down the steps to the centre of the grand hall which has become a makeshift dance floor.

‘Now darling, somethings been bothering you I can tell. Tell me what it is and I’ll do everything in my power to rectify it.’ He utters in a low tone, pulling you in closer to him to dance

‘Loki, it’s fine honestly don’t worry, I’m just happy here with you’ you say smiling, Loki seeming to accept your response.

After an hour of dancing and drinking you hear a countdown begin.

‘Loki, do you really want to know what’s wrong?’ You say, blush covering your cheeks.

‘Of course darling, what is it?’ Loki asks, growing more and more concerned by the second.

‘I want more than a midnight kiss. I want you’ you whisper close to him so not to raise any suspicion from others close to you. Hand roaming over the peaks of his leather clad chest.

‘Oh my love’ Loki lifts and hand and brushes it softly against your cheek.

‘Follow me’ he commands, pulling you by your hand out of the door, across the hall and onto the balcony outside.

As you make your way through the crowded room you try your best not to raise any suspicion, but as always wherever a prince goes, eyes will always follow.

Passing through the corridor you see Thor talking to what you assume are friends, drunkenly propping himself up against a wall.

Finally reaching the balcony a couple of partygoers are standing out there also, seeing Loki enter, he gives them a slight intimidating glance and rapidly the balcony is emptied.

‘Loki, I..’ your words cut short by the feeling of Loki’s lips on yours. He kisses you intensely feeling his silky tongue slip into your mouth. With one hand in your hair and another hand wrapped around your waist he pushes you into a vine covered wall on the right of the balcony between the glass door and the parapet of the balcony.

You hear cheers from across the hall as the clock has struck midnight.

Loki pushes his body firmly against yours, you feel his rapidly hardening length press against your core.

Breaking the kiss you pull back, words spilling out of a heavy breath

‘We’re really going to fuck here? What if someone sees us?’ You ask

‘Oh my darling, they would be so lucky’ Loki growls.

His lips crashing against your neck, teeth clashing against your skin marking your neck with purple bruises. He pulls a loud moan from you, lifting your skirt covered leg to wrap around his waist.

As you do this he runs a hand up your thigh, pulling your skirt up around your waist.

Hooking his hands underneath your ass he lifts you to wrap your legs around him.

Pressing you further into the wall you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into a fiery kiss. One of his large hands slip between your bodies and slides your panties to the side. You feel one of his dexterous digits run soft circles over your clit. Moaning into his kiss your head falls back against the wall letting out another breathier moan at the sensation.

His other hand on your ass grasps you harder leaving crescent moon indents in your soft skin.

His finger dips down, gathering your wetness, running it back over your clit briefly before he slips one long finger inside you. Your grasp on his neck tightens and you clasp a fist around the hair at the base of his neck, he lets out a deep breathy hiss, breaking the kiss to watch you squirm in pleasure around his finger.

As he pulls away he slips another finger inside you, curling them inward, you look into his normally blue eyes to find that they’re blown dark with lust.

Looking into his eyes his gaze is wild, a thousand sensations rip through your body feeling as if his touch will rip your orgasm from you at the slightest movement.

Just as you feel your climax begin to build he lifts you from the wall and places you atop of the parapet, your ass pressed against the cold stone. The drop from the balcony is high and you cling to Loki so not to fall.

Desperate kisses pass between you, your tongues fighting for dominance. With a sudden tear you hear your panties being ripped from your body, seeing Loki holding them in a fist you watch as he throws them absentmindedly over the edge or the balcony.

You reach down between kisses and undo his trousers, freeing his member from its constraints. Wrapping your hand around him, you lightly drag your hand up and down his length.

Pulling a moan from his lips into your kiss he pulls your ass closer to the edge of the parapet. He grabs his cock from you and lines himself up with your entrance, brushing his tip over your moistened clit.

‘I love you, Y/N’ Barely breaking the kiss he hums out the words you’ve been longing to hear.

‘I love you too, Loki’ you whisper back as he thrusts harshly into you, letting out a secondary louder moan.

Without a second to adjust to his length he begins thrusting firmly into you, holding you to him with one hand grasped around the back of your neck.

With a shrug of your shoulders the top of your dress falls down to expose your breasts to the cool night air. Your nipples harden at the change in temperature, Loki leans over and pulls one into his mouth gently biting at them as his thrusts become harsher.

Letting go of your nipple he kisses up your neck, his hand from behind your neck slipping to grasp you heavily around your throat. His other hand holds tightly to your lower back, allowing him to thrust deeper inside you.

As he plunges into you his movements become more urgent, his hand shifts from your lower back around to your clit circling frantically.

Your near climax from earlier quickly rebuilding, your feel yourself begin to tighten around his length.

With a load moan you feel your orgasm rip from your body. With a deep growl Loki, feeling his length pulsate deep in your core cums inside you, coating your walls in warm liquid.

Arms wrapped around each other your foreheads are pressed together, exchanging kisses between panted breaths. Slipping himself out of you and placing himself back into his trousers. Still holding each other close, placing satisfied kisses onto each others lips.

‘Did you throw my underwear over the balcony?’ You ask jokingly.

‘I think I may have..’ Loki smiles back with a quiet laugh.

‘That’s not very princely of you my liege’ you chuckle out.

Just as you go to stand up from the parapet, you hear voices from the ground below the balcony.

The voice that stands out the most is a low booming voice.

‘What’s that?’ Someone questions on the ground.

The owner of the deep voice, sounding slurred from alcohol replies ‘aren’t those..’

As you hear the words the man looks up to the balcony.

‘Oh, Brother!’ The voice shouts

‘Happy new year! I can see you started it off with.. a bang!’ You hear a roar of laughter break out below from the few friends on the ground.

Your head falling forward into Loki’s chest and your cheeks swelling with crimson you let out an embarrassed groan.

‘Come on love, let’s go to bed’ Loki picks you up and carries your bridal style back to your bedroom, he crawls into bed next to you. You fall asleep on his chest, hoping that any accidental observers have drunk enough to erase the night from their minds.

[boom-bakugou]

‘Wedding Crashers’ - Katsuki Bakugou

A/N: Sorry for my inactivity but here’s a little sorry and thank you present for me hitting 1k! I love you all sm <3

Pairings: Pro Hero!Bakugou x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, ooc deku; but it’s more of a headcanon, semi-public sex

Summary: Your ex-boyfriend Izuku Midoriya inviting you to his wedding is a definite stab in yours and Katsuki Bakugou’s backs. But you’ll show him.

Word Count: 5k

masterlist

You had considered your morning to be relatively normal, breakfast not burnt, coffee just that right amount of bitter to stir you awake. But those happy moments of peaceful bliss were soon to be fleeting as your mail arrived. Sifting through the pile to what you assumed would be bank statements and bills; your fingers landed on a cream white envelope. Your name printed neatly in a cursive font that when you followed it with your eyes for too long it almost made you want to puke. Tearing it open haphazardly, you read the perfumed content inside.

‘Dear Y/N Y/LN,

We are very proud to invite you to the blah blah blah wedding of pro hero blah blah Izuku Midoriya and blah blah blah.

RSVP blah-‘

Wait what? The taste in your mouth was pitiful. Yes, you and Izuku had dated years prior and after being childhood friends, yet it didn’t end… swimmingly. But this didn’t feel like inviting a childhood friend to your happiest day, no, this felt like a backhanded swipe at your ex-girlfriend who was well known to the media to be single. Pro-Hero gossip magazines made sure of that.

Throwing the invitation onto your countertop, your eyebrows furrowed with spite. You felt weak almost, watching your ex-best friend grow up to be this bountiful hero with merch in every store that you went to. Though you had triumphed well in the hero charts yourself, nothing ever seemed to compare to him. The golden boy. You never really got over the fact that he ended things because being a single hero was more postable than one who was tied down. Until now. Mr. Big shot getting married. It really made you question your integrity,

Recuperating your thoughts, you realised your phone was buzzing on the couch next to you. Checking to see the influx of text messages, you saw Katsuki Bakugou’s name fill up your lockscreen with notifications.

Bakugou: tell me you got the stupid fuckin invite too

Bakugou: the nerve that nerd still fuckin has

Bakugou: inviting his childhood ‘friends’ after all this time

Bakugou: tch, one big publicity stunt if you ask me

You chuckle as you scroll through the messages, gladly knowing that you weren’t the only one feeling this way.

Y/N: so what’re we going to do about it?

Bakugou: what do you mean?

Y/N: well we can’t show him up at his own wedding but we can sure stir something of our own

Bakugou: well that idiot is marrying some nobody extra

Bakugou: probably to show how ‘great’ he is

Bakugou: so how about if two top pro heroes rsvp’d together?

Y/N: you mean us?

Bakugou: no, midnight and grape juice. of course us you idiot

The idea brewed in your head for a moment. Izuku had always been nice when he was younger, and Katsuki hadn’t exactly been the nicest towards him in return. You were always the mediator in those situations. However when Deku grew and grew in the hero charts he started to lose touch with reality. Not really remembering what being a hero was about besides having his face stuck on a lunch box and raking in the dough for it. It was sad. You didn’t know who he was anymore.

Y/N: fuck it, i’m in

-

“You know, don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a tux before.” You chuckle, arm linked around Bakugou’s as you stepped out of the chauffeured car together. You were here to make a scene. Paparazzi glistened everywhere like a moth to a candle flame. You couldn’t wait for the tabloids in all honesty.

“Shut up.” Bakugou grumbled, almost in embarrassment. But his smile didn’t show a hint of it. “Not looking too bad yourself.”

You had coordinated well. Your maroon dress flowed in the gentle summer breeze and matched perfectly to Bakugou’s equally coloured tux. You two were such a pair it was nigh impossible to not think that you two were together today. And the paparazzi made sure of that indefinitely.

You couldn’t lie about how the service was beautiful, because it was. However you didn’t need to hear the shutter clicks of a camera go off every few words they spoke. It was distracting, and you and Bakugou shared a glance each time it occurred. Stifling a giggle, you hoped no camera would pick that up. Even if they did, they’d probably pin it to ‘look at these other heroes wishing that they were the next to get married!’ they’d eat that shit uplike ambrosia.

“Can’t wait to see the reception.” You mumbled towards Bakugou, your plastic smiles never fading for the cameras. Izuku making a show of himself and his new bride.

Watching him was almost bittersweet. The happy memories of you three as children flashing behind your eyes. Now replaced with a fame hungry number one hero. Where had all the time gone?

“What’s got you so perplexed?” Katsuki asked, filtering your way through the crowd, making your way to the cars that would deliver you all to the reception.

“Just-“ You sigh, allowing the cover of other heroes to hide you from the all seeing eyes of the paparazzi. “I miss him, y’know? Miss how we used to be.”

“Tch.” Bakugou didn’t care about the scowl present on his face, your words ate him up like some sort of bacteria. “Thought you said that he was the most selfish guy you’d ever dated?”

“He was but like-” You watched Izuku’s back as he held his new partner’s hand. Waving to the cameras and not watching her, as lovely as she looked in her wedding gown. “As weird as it sounds, I sometimes miss high school.”

Bakugou’s eyes scanned your face, following your eyesight to Midoriya. Fucking extra. The thoughts swam around his head, polluting his mind. He knew Izuku’s break up with you had been a massive toll on your mental health and your ego. He made you think that you weren’t good enough for him, and Bakugou never got over that fact. How could he pass up on you for anything else?

Breaking apart from the conglomerative of wedding-goers, Bakugou lead you to one of the specially hired cars to take the guests to the reception. Despite Bakugou’s abrasive and rough nature, you couldn’t help but notice how delicately he held your hand. Not tugging you along or haphazardly grabbing you by your wrist, making you follow him. No, his fingers interlaced with yours and you felt the coarseness of his palms due to the explosive nature of his quirk.

“Katsu?”

“Hm?”

“You can let go of my hand now, we’re in the car.”

“Yeah- whatever.”

Catching up in the car, you both realise how little time you have to actually spend with each other. Though you and Bakugou communicate 1000 times more than you do with Midoriya, heroing keeps you both busy. No times like these to goof off and be with each other. You missed it, you missed your hot-headed idiot friend.

“Hope there’s less fuckin’ paparazzi here. Think I’m gonna go blind with those extras pointing them in my face.” Bakugou rolled down the tinted window a smidge to watch as the car drove into an old looking manor hall where guests had already begun to arrive.

Flowers decorated the ground and just as you two got your hopes up, you saw a line of paparazzi at each side of the staircase leading to the double-doored entrance.

“Well, it was worth a try.” You remark to him, patting his back as you chuckled to him.

Bakugou was the first to exit, standing beside the door so he could reach for your hand to help you out while you fixed your dress. Just as the two of you began to reach for each other's arms to walk into the reception together; there was a brusque tug to your dress. Upon further inspection, a member of the shutterbugs had stood on a long section of your dress. Allowing himself to get pictures of it stretched out and flowy.

“Hey!” Bakugou didn’t waste time on pushing him off the tail end of the dress. “Try anything funny like that again with my girl and say goodbye to that shitty camera of yours!”

The man nodded, slowly letting his camera hang loose on his neck. The rest of the cameramen easily caught the scene but you both couldn’t care less. What’s a wedding without a little drama?

“Thanks Katsuki.” You note with a soft smile.

Bakugou’s hand tenderly makes its way around the small of your back until his arm is holding you close to him as you walk inside. His hand sitting in a caring way at your hip to assure that nothing could come between you both. You could not wait for the media to plaster this fake-ness on every outlet that they could! However, you liked the thought of relishing in the attention right now.

Once the dining festivities had come and gone. It was time for their first dance. Watching as he held her under the blue lighting had your heart hurting slightly. The thought that that could’ve been you. But Bakugou was right. He’s probably marrying some quirkless nobody not only to make himself look better, but being with another hero is messy. You both had media eyes on you; but… you couldn’t help but wonder how different your life would be like if Midoriya was how he used to be.

You didn’t even notice Bakugou’s eyes on you the whole time. Not wanting to waste a second of his eyesight on the show Izuku was putting on. You were a sight of your own. How could you not see that you deserved someone better? Someone like him. You always spoke about how everyone was under a facade when supporting Deku, but you never correlated that to yourself.

After a short while, others began to join in on the large dance floor. Perfectly spacious for all the famous faces and their egos. Bakugou’s hand traced down your arm until his hand clasped with yours, gently leading you to the floor yourselves.

“What’re you doing?”

“Come on, who’s to say we can’t have some fun too huh?”

Smiling at him, you followed his lead. His hand occupying your waist before pulling you in closer to his chest. Flowing with the music, you couldn’t help the cheesy smile on your face; nor the one that spread to Bakugou’s.

“Why’s no one ever tied down Mr. Ground Zero then?” Your question takes Bakugou by surprise, showing a small blip in your combined graceful swaying to the music.

“No ones good enough.” Such a Bakugou answer.

“You’re sounding like Izuku, but he probably got that from the old you.” You jested, earning an eye roll from Bakugou. “I’m being serious! Come on you can tell me.”

It takes him a moment to figure out an answer, so much so that he doesn’t focus on dancing anymore. He just stands there holding you before locking eyes again.

“Just haven’t found the right person to deal with my bullshit I guess.”

There’s a beat of silence and your eyes search his face for answers. You didn’t even realise how close you were to him. His breath fanning your face, the smell of oak and fire and burning sweetness engulfed your senses. You also didn’t realise how the two of you sank closer and closer into one another.

“Hey Kacchan, mind if I steal her from you?”

Izuku’s voice almost sends you two flying away from each other like same sides of a magnet.

“Ask her yourself she’s not mine.” You turn from Bakugou to give a friendly smile to Midoriya, allowing your hand to rest in his. “I’ll be at the bar. Free drinks and all.”

His answers are short, curt. Yet before you can ask him if he’s alright Deku spins you and begins to dance with you in his arms at the tempo of the new music track that’s playing.

“Long time no see Y/N!” His manner has always been so chipper, despite the facade of it all. Though Bakugou and you went there to purposefully to cause discourse; you don’t think you have it in you to be mean to Izuku’s face.

“Yeah, look at you! Married man now, must be scary.” You chuckle, almost nervously. It was like speaking to a stranger.

“Well I guess I’ll find out! But come on that’s been the subject of the whole day! I wanna know about you and Kacchan.” You felt like Bakugou right now, the old nickname boiling your blood as it did his. There was no doubt Izuku took influence from Bakugou and his fiery personality; but he took it in all the wrong ways. Using confidence to become cold, uncaring.

“Oh- haha, Katsuki and I aren’t-“

“Y/N. Don’t lie to me! I can see the way he’s burning holes in my tux from over here.”

Turning you to the music so you could face where Katsuki was standing, you peaked behind Midoriya’s arm to see Bakugou with an all too familiar scowl on his face. Chasing down a beverage in a crystalline glass in one easy gulp.

“If you ask me Midoriya he’s always looked at you that way.” You laugh your statement off but you meant it with malice.

“Midoriya? Feeling formal today are we Y/N?” He had completely lost touch of who he used to be. “I used to look at you like that when I saw you with other guys, I know what that look is.”

His comment stops you dead in your tracks, not allowing for him to swing you to and fro to the music.

“Actually Midoriya I don’t even remember you looking me with jealous intent other than when I was higher than you on the hero charts.” Shaking yourself free from his towering position on you, you stormed off to the patio doors, letting yourself be eaten by the oncoming darkness of night.

Crying at your ex’s wedding. Not something you’d think you’d ever do in your lifetime but here you were. Thankfully you couldn’t see any reporters or such outside so for now, it was just you and your tears. Maybe you were too harsh on him? You used to be friends right? What happened to that kid who wanted to be a hero who you looked up to? What happened to the boyfriend you had who kissed you goodnight and ignored you when your face was on the TV more than him or snapped at you when he was announced lower than you and broke up with you because ‘heroes dating are messy!’ No. Bakugou was right. He was a self-righteous bastard now.

“Y/N?”

You half expected Midoriya to come out after you but he was probably entertaining other guests. Luckily, as you turned you saw Bakugou standing outside with you, signature hands in his pockets with a dumb, sympathetic smirk on his face.

“Hey.”

“I promise I didn’t punch that asshole at his own wedding but I can tell you he got a fuckin’ earful from me. Hope the paps got a good pic.” His tone was joking but it hadn’t cracked a smile from you yet.

“S’alright. Wouldn’t give two shits if you did.” You sniffled, collecting mascara tears on your fingers and wiping them on the decorative concrete bannisters of the balcony. “Shouldn’t’ve fucking come. This was stupid I have too much baggage for this shit.”

You turned away from him, allowing yourself to lean out on the barrier, looking into the distance on the warm night. You could hear Bakugou give a small sigh before his arms snuck around your waist, pulling your back into his chest before placing a chaste kiss on the top of your head.

“That fuckin’ idiot didn’t know what he lost and it’s my fault for influencin’ him.” The pain in his voice was evident. Did Bakugou blame himself for the hurt Midoriya caused you?

“Katsu-“

“No. That extra is so blinded by the shit everyone has to say that he’s forgotten what real life is. Doesn’t care about his stupid fans or his friends or the best most understanding girl in the whole fucking world. A girl I know does the best for everyone no matter what her own situation is.” You turn around to face him, not wanting to leave his embrace. “Y/N. No matter how much I’ve always wanted to fuckin’ win I’ve just wanted the best for you. And when that bastard did what he did to you- I- fuck. You look at him, like you’re waiting for him to just notice you; but every time I see you it’s like I’m seeing you set the stars in the sky every fuckin night. You just- you’re fuckin’ everything to me Y/N.”

It was completely silent on the balcony besides the low thump of the music from indoors, but it was deafening. But it all faded when his lips attached to yours. It was so clear. All that pining over Midoriya when he was just copying the one who actually saw you for who you were. He even copied Bakugou’s crush on you, most likely to make him jealous. But your mind had no time to think of that when all you could feel was Bakugou.

It was like you had never been kissed before, never felt the love and sensuality behind it. Soft and moist but breathy and warm. For once Bakugou didn’t wish to win a battle, he wanted unity and to be together with you. His hands danced over the delicate curves of you in your dress; taking in every inch of your perfect body. The gasp that fell from your mouth was perfect entrance for Bakugou’s tongue to mingle with yours. The sparks hot and electric between you both was like liquid lightning.

Just as your hands found home in his hair, you heard the all too familiar sound of today of a photo being taken. Bakugou is the first to break the kiss to find the intruder of your special moment. Your lips already feel blushed and bruised but your heart was nearly pounding out your chest.

“Fuckin’ print that in your gossip magazine you extra!” Bakugou couldn’t help but heartily laugh at the man as he shook with worry after catching the intimate moment. He wanted to show you off. He wasn’t ashamed that his lips had captured you to be his.

“Let’s go somewhere more private.” He whispers into your ear and you eagerly nod, grasping his one hand with your two as the both of you manouvered your way through the wedding guests until you finally found a small closet down a hallway where no one from the party had entered.

Slamming the door shut behind you, your eyes drank in Bakugou’s frame. How had you missed that small boy you once knew had now become this beefy, beautiful man? Who was looking at you with the same awe and intent? Bakugou cornered you against the door of the supply closet, latching his lips together with yours once again as if he was scared he’d never be able to taste you again.

“You’re fuckin’ perfect.” Katsuki’s lips mashed with yours as his hands slid up your dress, the coarseness of his fingers against your soft skin sending shivers down your spine.

All those years of being a hero really showed on Bakugou, he lifted you with ease as your fingers traced scars on the back of his neck; holding on for support. His hips pin you against the door and you feel his cock hardening between the fabric of your underwear and his suit pants, you can’t help the whimper escaping your lips at the friction of him.

Bakugou’s hands slip under the straps of your dress, letting them fall delicately to your sides as his lips ensnare yours. His grunts and your whimpers enough to make any passerby know what was going on in the confined space of the closet. His fingers glide beneath the dress which allowed it to fall further as Bakugou felt the weight of your breasts in his palms.

“God you’re fucking everything princess.” His fingers slide beneath the lacy fabric to thumb your nipples, perking and tugging it with his forefinger.

Breaking the kiss, his head lowers to encapsulate the bud in his mouth. Gently suckling it before rolling it feverishly between his teeth. Your hands snaking through his hair only spurring the assault on your supple flesh. Biting your lip to stop the obvious moans that were threatening to spill out of your mouth. You swore you could see stars as his tongue flicked against the pointed nub- sending your nerves wild.

“Bet that fucking extra never treated you like this baby.” He matched your height, his gaze never leaving your own as he took both of your tits out of your bra; kneading the flesh and buds of your nipples as he spoke. “Just wanted to get himself off, I know how to fuckin’ treat you right.”

“Then do it… Kacchan.” You spoke with such gusto in your breathy state, knowing that the old nickname would make him see red. And god did it send him feral.

His body pressed you further into the door, even if it felt like he couldn’t. The aching feel of his cock rubbing against your clothed core made you mewl in want of him. His fingers slid beneath the hem of your dress and made little pricking motions into your inner thighs until he traced a slit over your panties.

“Shit you’re fucking wet.” The pads of his fingers kneading against where you wanted him most, a chuckle falling his lips as your hips did their best to try and get any sort of relief.

“Katsuki please- please fuck oh my god-“ Your neck craned back as you felt your body take control. The low growl in Bakugou’s throat at the sight of you barely touched and already begging for him.

Tracing his fingers along your décolletage he stopped when he met your parted lips before roughly shoving his fingers in your mouth, pressing down the body of your tongue.

“Please please please-“ Katsuki mocked. “Please what princess? Better use your fuckin’ words or else.”

An insufferable smirk played upon his lips as he felt your cunt clench around nothing at his dirty words. Pulling his fingers from your mouth, he wiped the remnants of your spit across your tits; awaiting for your response.

“Fuck me Katsuki- please you’re all I want. God you’re all I need.” Although said in your aroused state. You meant it- and he knew that.

Not wasting any more of the precious time you two had before you were inevitably found out considering your blatant disregard for being quiet; Bakugou used his hand to tug off his belt. Nearly setting his suit pants on fire as his quirk crackled in anticipation for you.

Your body clung to Bakugou’s for support, his whole body easily keeping your pinned high between himself and the door. Once his lower half was sufficiently stripped, it was easy enough for him to rip the sides of your underwear off.

“Katsu-“

“Shut up.”

Not wanting to disagree; you did. Hips bucking against nothing as the cool air prickled at your hot cunt. Bakugou held his manhood in his hand, rubbing the head of it in your slick and providing stimulation to your clit. Your thighs tightening around his waist like a vice grip at the well needed attention.

“You’re fuckin’ soaking baby. So needy.” Bakugou mumbled against your neck, allowing himself and you to get off momentarily at the friction. You could only nod to his words which were making you more and more wet for him. He was such a tease.

“Come on princess. Tell me you want my cock. Tell me.” His voice growled as he repeated himself, leaving marks upon your nape that would surely bruise because of his harsh bites and sucklings.

“Katsuki I need you- only you. Only you.” Your repetition is barely a whisper but he heard it, and despite his rough nature Bakugou confines your lips in a kiss as he sheaths himself inside of you.

Taking a few slow thrusts to allow yourself to adapt to his size, it’s only a moment before Bakugou completely bottoms out inside of you. He watches your face shiver in pleasure which he mirrors. He clasps your hips so firmly his knuckles turn white; it didn’t even hurt as all you could focus on was him inside you. Your hands find their way to his biceps, gripping on for some tension relief and you could still feel his muscles flex even beneath his suede blazer and the shirt.

“What a good fuckin’ girl, taking my cock like this.” Bakugou’s voice is a low growl as he thrusts into you, the sounds of your clothes brushing against one another and the slaps of your skin interacting was like a sinful symphony.

The smell of caramel danced in your brain as Bakugou worked up a sweat absolutely pummeling himself into your sex. You grasped onto him as if your life depended on it, moaning into his neck as his cock slid in and out of you. You didn’t even know how much time was passing as he rutted himself into you relentlessly- yet as you both came to your highs, you could both barely move from the thrill of it all.

Steadying your breaths back to a regular pace; Bakugou slid you down from where he had pinned you against the door and let you fix yourself as he then did himself. You sorted your dress and pulled any tugs from your hair when he had pulled it before slapping Bakugou’s arm.

“You dick! You ripped my underwear!”

“Hot.” He chuckled, fixing his belt loops and stuffing the ripped panties into his pocket.

“Not funny! I’m not parading about with no underwear on!”

“We’re getting the fuck out of this extras stupid wedding. You can wear my clothes at my place.” Suitably sorted and not looking like you had just had the brains fucked out of you in a closet (despite the reddening bites and bruises that were now appearing on your neck), Bakugou held you close. Yet instead of taking the corridor to the exit, he was leading you back to the main dance hall.

“Where’re we going?” You hashly whispered to Bakugou, your thighs still wet from your slick and the cool air against your unclothed pussy making you heat up from embarrassment.

“Gots to do one thing before we go.” There’s a shit eating grin on his face, you couldn't help but wonder what on earth he was planning now.

Midoriya stood talking to other heroes all dressed in their formal attire and Bakugou (with no consideration of their conversation) roughly tapped his shoulder to get his immediate attention. His arm around your waist was so tight but being see with Bakugou like this made you feel almost proud.

“We’re just heading off.” Bakugou had replaced his smile for his usual scowl, something he had always looked at Izuku with.

“Going so soon? It’ll be a shame you guys!” Izuku’s voice was plastered in falsehood. He probably regretted trying to gloat over you two. Bakugou held out his hand for Midoriya to shake it, your brows furrowed on what was obviously a stepping stone to Bakugou’s plan.

“I know I might not be better at you right now in the hero charts.”

Uh oh.

“I’m glad you’ve finally come to recognise that Kaccha-“

“But I am better at you at something for sure.”

Bakugou used Midoriya’s hand in his to pull him closer, readying himself to whisper in his ear.

“Cause I just fucked the shit out of your ex-girlfriend and I know you never made her come as hard as I did.”

Your face burned with the heat of a million suns, but the glower on Izuku’s face was priceless. And you couldn’t help but see the flash of a camera capture the moment as Bakugou’s hand fell from his and slipped once again around your waist.

[r0zyp0zy0zy]

Haikyuu!! Prompt list trial

HQ!! Prompt list

Words: 3000+ {oops it was meant to be 1000}

Warnings: smut! First time, nervous Yamaguchi, Tsukki bein a wingman?

Pairing: Yamaguchi Tadashi x FEM!reader

Prompt(s): 1 & 4

PART 2 IS HERE

I LOST THE ASK!! But I did copy it down so.. also this was A LOT longer than I intended

"heh, you're awfully close— a-are we going to kiss now?" And "AH! I'm sorry, I'm sorry— I didn't mean to!" With Yamaguchi please? (I was thinking maybe a first-time scenario mayhaps? It's ok if it's not!) thanks!

Yamaguchi never thought that he would be in this situation, ever. To be fair, it was mostly Tsukkishima's fault that this was about to happen. Yamaguchi probably should've kept his mouth shut about being jealous that Tsukki had lost his virginity, mostly because he forgot that Tsukki had no shame asking girls for sex; and also that he would do it for Yamaguchi. He honestly didn't even know how Tsukishima had convinced someone to hook up with Yamaguchi of all people.

"So remember when you told me you wanted to lose your virginity?" Tsukki picked at his lunch with a cheeky grin on his face.

"...yes? Why, it's not that big of a deal." Yamaguchi replied, scared of what his best friend was about to say to him.

"I got someone who wants to help you lose it," Tsukishima quirked a brow as he took a bite of his salad. "You interested?"

Yamaguchi choked on his sandwich, and he had to take a few minutes to get his food down his throat, "you- you what?!"

"Quiet, unless you want everyone in the cafeteria to know you wanna get laid," the blonde said carelessly. "So do you want to or not?"

"I-I..." Tadashi was speechless, trying to spit out a 'yes! Please yes!'. "Er, who is it?"

"Y/n," Tsukki smirked, watching his friend's mouth drop open in shock. "Careful, you'll attract flies."

"Y-you didn't straight up say that I wanted to have sex, right?!" Yamaguchi whispered.

"Nah, I just said that my buddy Yamaguchi hasn't lost his virginity yet and that I wanted to do him a favour because he's too shy and hopeless to talk to girls," Tsukishima mused. He watched the green haired boy in front of him have an existential crisis in the span of a few seconds before he gripped the sides of his own face.

"Is this real? You're not pranking me, right? You're not that much of an asshole," Yamaguchi worried in disbelief, crossing his fingers praying that his luck shone through.

"I wouldn't do that to you," Tsukishima reassured, "Hinata and Kageyama... maybe."

"Holy shit," Tadashi exasperated, "I hope to god that she's not pitying me. Or even worse! She'll come over and she'll make fun of me!"

"She will if you're into that," Tsukishima finished the last of his salad.

"You're not helping," Yamaguchi pouted, "I'm really worried."

"Yams, if I thought that she would do that than I wouldn't've asked her. Y'know, she told me that she thinks you're cute," The blonde packed up his lunch containers, "she also said that you're very sweet."

"What?!" Yamaguchi's eyes were as wide as saucers. Did she really? Is that really what she thinks of me?

"Yes. Pack up your shit, the bell's about to go," Tsukki pressed, throwing his bag over his shoulder.

So now Tadashi was in his bathroom a few hours before you were supposed to come over, his dad's electric razor in hand. He didn't exactly know how to angle his body so he could catch the falling hair on a paper towel, so he just sat himself on the toilet with his mum's vanity mirror propped on a stool.

Once Yamaguchi eventually managed to trim up, (with an unusually long 'is that what it looks like?' period of discovery), he took a shower and made sure he didn't smell. He scrubbed the hell out of his nails, and brushed his teeth squeaky clean. As he nervously awaited your arrival, he cleaned up his room and made his bed. He blushed as he laid out several condoms that Tsukki had given him, remembering the other day where he had to test them to make sure that they fit.

Yamaguchi eyed himself up and down in his mirror, trying to figure out what he should wear, (which he normally wasn't worried about at all). Should I wear boxers or briefs... will she even know the difference between the two? Should I wear a belt, or would that be too much work? Is a button-up a bit too formal for this event? Yes, ok T-shirt time.

The minutes leading up to your appearance made Yamaguchi sick to his stomach, and he tried to calm his nerves by taking deep breaths. Would he be too scrawny for her? Maybe his dick was small and he just didn't know it? Now that he thinks about it, are his nipples a bit weird? He attempted to flatten the cowlick on the top of his head, but it wouldn't comply. A 'ding' from Tadashi's phone makes him freeze, and he glanced over to peer at the screen.

Y/n: I'm here! I didn't know if I should've knocked or not

Yams: I'll be right there! One moment

Yamaguchi dropped his phone and grabbed one of his pillows before screaming into it. He delicately set it back down, and he made his way to the front door. He was lucky that his dad was working late, and that his mum was away to visit a sick relative. Otherwise, he would have a very hard time explaining your presence to them.

"Hi!" Tadashi said breathlessly as he opened the door to his home, eyes meeting with your e/c ones. God, were you beautiful.

"Hello," you replied shyly, playing with the straps of your bag.

"Come on in," Yamaguchi's chest felt tight as you took off your shoes and put on the guest slippers.

He led you to the living room, unsure if he should take you to his room so soon. He went off to prepare some tea, and his mind swirled dizzily. The two of you barley talked at school, and the past week of getting to know you over text just made Yamaguchi fall for you harder. He swallowed a lump in his throat, and brought the tea tray to the living room with shaky hands.

"Uh, I wasn't sure what you liked, so I hope blackberry is fine..." Tadashi rubbed the back of his neck, eyeing the carpet with piqued interest.

"It's fine!" You smiled gently, pulling your cup closer to you. "So anything that you want to talk about before uh, the main event?"

Yamaguchi was glad he hadn't taken a sip of his tea, because he would've sputtered like an idiot if he did, "uhm, n-not really? I'm j-just really nervous, so please take care."

"Of course! We'll go as slow as you want, no worries," you reassured, taking a sip of your tea, "y-you do have condoms, right?"

Yamaguchi stuttered again, "y-yeah". God he was awkward, getting embarrassed over damn latex.

The two of you did some studying to loosen the mood, and Tadashi started to feel just a little bit more relaxed. It was English you were studying, and since you were a speaker you helped him immensely.

"I know, i's and e's together are tricky, even for me. Most of the time the 'i' is before the 'e', but English can be a dickhead sometimes and it'll be the opposite," you leaned over the table to him as you corrected a few of his words. "But other than that, it looks great!"

Tadashi blushed at the praise, and thanked you quietly. He had to take a few moments so he could breathe normally again as he wasn't used to you being so close. His flush reddened tenfold when he noticed that your shirt seemed to have gotten pulled down a bit, exposing some of your breasts to him. He took a sharp intake of breath as he forced himself to look away.

"It's fine, Yama-kun," you giggled. "You can look all you want."

"S-sorry!" He apologized, embarrassed that you had caught him.

"C'mon, you can take a closer look," you pushed your chair back as you stood up to lean towards him, your shirt complying with gravity.

Tadashi was too flustered to speak, let alone look away from the eyeful you were giving him. You used one hand to grip both of his cheeks to pull him forward, causing him to stand up too. You guided his face so he was level to your boobs, and smiled bashfully when he let out the smallest whimper. You pulled his head up to yours, and you leaned in so your noses were almost touching.

"Heh, you're awfully close— a-are we going to k-kiss now?" Yamaguchi gulped nervously at the thought of your lips on his, and he inwardly groaned in annoyance that he was already getting hard.

"If you want to~," you smiled invitingly at him with your pretty e/c eyes as you touched noses with him.

"O-ok," he gulped, blinking harshly because of nerves.

You closed the gap and pressed your soft lips on his, kissing him slowly with purpose. You pulled away for a moment before going back in for a second taste, and you trailed your fingers down Yamaguchi's torso until you reached his waist. You gripped him gently, slowly riding your hands higher and lower. A gasp left his lips once you pulled away, and his cheeks were ferociously flushed.

"H-holy..." Tadashi mumbled, his lips still tingling from your kisses. "I didn't think it would feel so good."

"D'you mind if we head over to your room now?" You asked, chest still rising and falling a little unevenly from the kiss.

Tadashi gulped nervously as he led you to his bedroom up the stairs, trying to hide his erection so you wouldn't make fun of him for getting hard so fast. Once he locked the door behind you, he looked back to his bed where you were sitting, taking off your necklace and placing it on his side table, taking care not to tangle it. You encouraged him to come over with a beckoning of your hand, and patted beside you with the other.

"C'mon Yams don't be shy, take a seat. I won't bite," you smiled warmly at him. "Unless you want me to."

Tadashi blushed as he walked over, plopping down beside you. You turned to face him and tilted your head to indicate that you wanted to give him another kiss, he leaned closer and you gently held his face. He let out a soft whimper once your mouths collided again, and gripped the sheets under him tightly.

"Touch me, Yams," you moaned into his mouth, and Tadashi thought that he was going to pass out at your words.

He anxiously reached out his hands to grip your waist, and squeaked in surprise when you groaned against his lips, opening your mouth and gliding your tongue across his lower lip. Tadashi let your tongue graze against his, and his whole body shivered at the unfamiliar sensation. The green-haired boy tensed when he felt your hand drop from his face to his chest, which was rising and falling quickly and unevenly.

"You alright? Still want to keep going?" You asked breathlessly, toying with the neck of his T-shirt.

"Hmng," Yamaguchi struggled to formulate a sentence, "y-yes please."

"Using your manners at a time like this? You're so cute, Yams," you cooed, gliding your hand down his torso, giving him a peck on the lips as you continued down to his belt.

"C-call me Tadashi," said the young man, blushing profusely, "p-please."

"You're so cute, Ta~da~shi~," you whispered in his ear, sliding a hand between his thighs.

Yamaguchi moaned as your hand drew agonizingly closer to the strain in his jeans, desperately trying not to rut upward into your touch.

You looked into his half-lidded eyes, purring, "can I touch you, Tadashi?"

"Yes," he answered, too quick for his liking. He inwardly cringed at his eagerness, but it was soon forgotten once you trailed a finger over his clothed cock. "Hah~," he squeaked.

You took ahold of one of his hands and brought it up to your breast, squeezing it for him lightly. Apprehensively Tadashi slowly started to knead it, bringing his other hand to cup your opposite breast. He was very gentle with your assets, taking care not to clutch too harshly on the soft mounds. Tadashi had almost forgotten that your hand laid on his thigh, until you firmly gripped his package.

"Hmmgh," Yamaguchi moaned against your mouth, leaning forwards as you leaned backwards to separate your lips. He was about to apologize, for what he didn't really know, but shut up as you peeled your shirt off your body. He had dreams of this happening, and now that it was real he didn't know what to do. Tadashi blushed furiously as you gripped your own boobs, pinching at your clothed nipples.

You peered at him expectantly, but noticing his cocked head you bowed forward and grasped the hem of his shirt. Tadashi felt foolish at the fact that he forgotten he had to take his clothes off as well, and he warily helped you lift his shirt over his head. The boy huffed anxiously as your eyes drawled across his torso, his head starting to spin with embarrassment and insecurity.

"S-sorry if i-it's not what you h-hoped for," Tadashi heaved, shoving down the hot tears that were building up inside of him. He rubbed his arms as if to warm himself, cowering in apprehensiveness.

"Oh Tadashi, you're exactly what I hoped for," you hummed lowly, trailing your hands down your body to rid yourself of your pants/skirt. He gulped in relief and arousal, watching carefully as you rubbed up and down your torso, occasionally playing with the hem of your undies.

You reached forward to grab his belt, undoing it with a jingle. You threw it onto the floor and dove back down to unbutton Tadashi's jeans, licking your lips in excitement. Just the sight alone made him groan, feeling as though he could cum any second. He watched you with wide, curious eyes when you slowly unzipped his pants. You grinned wildly once you finally rid Yamaguchi of his pants, and gently palmed him through his boxers.

"M-maybe you shouldn't do t-that," Tadashi stuttered as you continued to rub his clothed, twitching cock. "I- I don't wanna f-finish too fast and then we c-can't, uh, y'know..."

You hummed in understanding, and slid away from the dark haired boy. Tadashi awaited the reveal of your breasts as you teasingly struggled with your bra, and you saw him lean in a little closer. He watched in awe as you exposed your tits to him, continuing down to your underwear. Yamaguchi gulped when you peeled them off, staring at the slick string of your juices connecting you to the piece of clothing.

Tadashi was frozen in place as he watched you slowly spread your legs open, giving him a show of teasing yourself. In all honesty it looked like he was about to faint from the lack of blood in his face, but that quickly changed when you softly moaned his name. A whimper escaped his lips and he rutted forward into the air, feeling the blush creep quickly onto his cheeks again.

You breathed deeply as you slowly spread yourself open, carefully inserting a finger, and then another one a moment later. You felt so aroused that you didn't think you even needed preparation; still in a little bit of shock that, oh god your crush was in front of you with a painfully hard erection looking at you as if you were the whole world. The fact that you had scored this opportunity was incredible, and you still couldn't believe it.

You met Tadashi's eyes and slipped your slick fingers in your mouth to suck them clean, observing his awed expression, "wanna taste?" You asked sultry, dipping your fingers back into your heat.

Yamaguchi's eyes were the widest they had been all night, and a strangled nod of his head let you scooch forward to him. He nervously opened his mouth, poking out his tongue to suck on your fingers. You felt your cunt clench desperately at the sight in front of you, and you sighed a moan. You took Tadashi's hands in yours and leant backward onto his pillows, letting him trap you with his arms beside your head.

"Hah— f-fuck," Tadashi choked out, grinding his still clothed cock on your thigh. "P-please~."

"Take off your underwear, 'Dashi," you murmured hotly to him, trailing your hands down his back to his waistband.

He struggled with the article of clothing before throwing them to the floor, blushing profusely once he realized that he was completely exposed to you. A groan was ripped from Tadashi's chest when you gave him a few pumps, reaching out with your other hand to grab a condom.

"Are you ready?" You asked. "You can back out at anytime, no judgment."

"F-fuck yes," Tadashi stammered, shakily rolling the thin latex on his fluttering cock.

He let you take charge, taking a deep breath when you grasped his dick and guided him slowly inside of you. Tadashi's mouth widened into an 'O' as he sank deeper into your hot pussy, taking the air from his lungs. A low groan rumbled in his chest, and he gripped the sheets tightly. He couldn't move, he realized. If he moves, he cums. Game over.

"I-I-," Tadashi gasped, struggling to find the right words. "T-tight."

"You can move, Tadashi," you encouraged, trying not to clench around him.

So he did, wanting to impress you somehow. His abs tensed painfully as he fiercely held in his orgasm, slowly dragging back and forth. He heard himself whimpering and he was scared that he was going to start crying. Your reassuring moans didn't help Tadashi from his sensitive state and he cried out as he came, shaking as he emptied his load into the condom.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry— I didn't mean to!" He panicked, lip trembling as he ridiculed himself for being so embarrassing. He hid his face from your gaze by locking his eyes on your chest, focusing all his energy on not crying.

"It's ok! It's ok, don't worry," you soothed, a little surprised at Tadashi's reaction. "There's always a next time," you added shyly, blush deepening.

"—n-next time..?"

[mssuccbuss]

A date with Nanami Kento

JJK Nanami x my black OC Ryan (y/n if you want to put yourself in her shoes, be my guest)

warnings: none  

Self Headcanon : Boyfriend Kento with a biracial black woman

Word count: 1000 (I got carried away <_<)

The first meeting

Nanami Kento and Yaga Ryan met of course at the Tokyo Jujustu Highschool while they both were working. As Ryan was never allowed to mingle with the faculty or students and kept normally at her father’s side, the day Kento spotted Ryan hurrying down the hall with a stack of papers. Just like some rom com, he watched one of her papers fly down the hallway and being the kind of man that he was, he went over to pick it up. Just as he was bent over to grasp the piece of paper, Ryan was nowhere to be found.

Kento read the paper to see if it was important enough to track her down and to his falter, it was an inventory list of cursed objects that the school was responsible for. He let out a few swears as he made it a mission to find this woman. He even asked Saturo, which was both a mistake and actually help.  

“The browned skinned girl with a bob? Oooooh you mean Ryan!” Saturo gasped Kento’s questioning. “You’re never going to see her again, hell you’re lucky to see her once.”

“Is this a joke? She is missing the inventory paperwork; I need to give it to her.” Kento rubbed one side of his temples as he spoke.

“No, I mean...Yaga doesn’t let his precious daughter out. Panda yeah, but Ryan, hell no. She works mostly behind the scenes. Just seeing her is like being able to touch me.” Saturo waved the situation off.

“Wait he has a daughter...” Even through the glasses you could clearly see Kento’s eyes widen.

Truthfully Kento could of just gave the paper to Saturo and be done with this whole side quest. But Ryan...other than the paper he was intrigued by appearance and her backstory.  

It was becoming the end of the day and everyone was going home. Kento went back inside to walk the halls and just as he turned a corner, he saw a glimpse of Ryan and before she could go through whatever door, he called out to her “Ryan!?” It was both a question and a statement.

Ryan turned her head as she never heard her name being called, especially at this place. She stopped and walked her back to Kento. “How do you know my name?”

“Gojo, but never mind that. You dropped this.” He presented her the paper and he saw Ryan eyes shine a bright orange or he could have sworn.  

“O M G, I was looking for that. Dad was going to be so angry.” Ryan happily took the paper and then extended her hand. “I am Yaga Ryan and you are Nanami Kento, correct? Sorry, its not creepy I swear, I just know everyone who studies here, works here and all the jujustu sorcerers”

And with that Kento shook her hand and they started talking on a normal basic. Ryan even told Kento what her daily schedule would be like so they could easily find each other.

The first date

It took Kento awhile to finally ask out Ryan and it wasn’t because he was scared of her father, not at all. It was honestly because he was doubting himself and if Ryan would even go out with him.

But as soon he did it Ryan was taken back, blushing a deep pink. “You want to take me out? She asked as he handed her favorite snack, accepting it.

“Yeah? This Saturday...we can go have dinner together, get some drinks if you like. Nothing too much.”

Saturday came quickly. Ryan outfit :  https://www.gotceleb.com/wp-content/uploads/photos/normani-kordei/boohoo-hosts-the-zendaya-edit-block-party-in-la/Normani-Kordei:-Boohoo-Hosts-The-Zendaya-Edit-Block-Party--04.jpg   Kento outfit: https://s1.zerochan.net/Nanami.Kento.600.3188938.jpg Nanami Kento, whew. He came to pick up Ryan in a rental. To his surprise Ryan lived at an apartment complex and not with Masamichi or Panda. Once he saw her come down the steps in that outfit, his eyes were glued. He quickly went over to open the door for her, not missing any chances to win her over.

Once they arrived at the restaurant, Kento continued being a gentleman with making sure she never touched a door and her seat was pulled out. He ensured her that she could order anything and that tonight was about pleasing her. As he realized that came out a bit vulgar, he almost choked on his drink when she cocked an eyebrow at the word pleasing. Though she was just joking with him. “Please don’t die Nanami, I know what you meant.”

As dinner and drink was coming to a closer, Nanami paid and they were off. Ryan stated that she didn’t want the night to end just yet and suggested that they do karaoke.  Which completely took Nanami by shock but he didn’t deny her request. “Let's go.”  

When they made it to the karaoke spot, Ryan chooses between jpop and american r&b. While she sung her heart out, Nanami’s eyes were as before, glued. Nanami watched her dance around with a smile on his face as he sipped his drink. “Don’t think you’re not doing this with me, Nanami!” Ryan grabbed his hand to drag him up with her as let him choose a song. His choice did not disappoint. “Really? Aladdin?” Ryan laughed at his choice; it was a good one. They both took a mic and sung A Whole New World together.

As they both were getting tipsy and tired, Ryan sunk down onto the couch and rested her head on Nanami’s shoulder. “Thank you for tonight, this is not buzzed me speaking, but I like you too Nanami.” Ryan confessed and softly placed a kiss on Nanami’s cheek. Nanami couldn’t help but smile as his efforts didn’t go to waste. He took a hold of her hand and used his thumb to brush across her knuckles.

“I’m glad.”

[henrycavillobsessed]

A Christmas Distraction

Henry x first person reader

Summary: When your mother visit for Christmas, Henry finds a way to distract you from the ensuing stress.

Words: 1552

CW: smut (sex), overbearing mothers/strained mother-daughter relationship

Notes: Here’s a little smutty one-shot I wrote this evening, the last of my own ideas before I start on my 1000 follower celebration requests. Enjoy and Merry Christmas everyone! 

“So darling, we’ll be round for about 12pm. I expect lunch will be nearly ready then will it? I could bring the turkey, save you the trouble. Yours is usually a little dry anyway…” My mother’s voice droned on in my ear. I was still reeling from the news that she had just invited herself and my step-father round to mine and Henry’s house for Christmas. I honestly thought I’d gotten away with it this year, having heard nothing from her until now- now being the 22nd of December with only three days to go- so I thought it’d just be me, Henry and Kal this year. Small, intimate, relaxing, just perfect. Why did I pick up the phone? Why did I say yes? I finally come round to my senses and replied to my mother. “Mum, I’m a chef for a living. I’m more than capable of cooking the turkey.”  “Well yes love, but I don’t want you to get stressed, we both know what you can get like,” I only get like that around you, mother, I thought, and then sighed. “Mum, I’ll do all the cooking, see you on the day. Bye -bye now,” I hung up before she could say anything else. 

Kal suddenly started barking madly. I looked up and saw Henry walk in through the front door, home from the gym, shaking his wet hair out of his eyes and grinning at me whilst ruffling Kal’s fur. The sight of my man all damp and in his work-out gear was usually enough to launch myself at him and have him there and then on the living room floor. But my most recent phone call had seriously affected my mood, and Henry noticed. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he said, frowning, joining me on the sofa and wrapping an arm around me. I leant into his embrace. “My mother.” I said, my voice glum. “Oh no, what’s she done now?” I nearly laughed at his response. Henry was no stranger to how strained mine and mum’s relationship could be. Thankfully, he was supportive, always had been. “She’s coming for Christmas dinner, with John.” “When did she lay this on you? Doesn’t she know it’s three days until the 25th?” “Of course she does, she just doesn’t care. She rang me not long ago. Didn’t even ask, just invited herself. God why didn’t we go to your parent’s house again like last year?” I said, fondly remembering the festive season the year previously where Henry and I had spent an incredibly enjoyable week in Jersey with his parents and brothers. “Oh love. What can I do to help?” Henry asked, rubbing a hand up and down my back. I sighed again, and then reluctantly got up from the sofa. “I suppose I’ll have to go shopping. Care to join?” “We’ll take the Range Rover. We’ll need the bigger boot for all the extra wine you’re sure to need. Let’s go,” he said, grabbing the car keys.

Three days later and it truly was worse than I’d imagined. John, my step-father, had driven over, which meant mother had already started drinking, no doubt opening a bottle of Bucks Fizz before the sun had even risen on Christmas morning. She hadn’t been here ten minutes when she started in on my appearance, commenting on how my new hair cut just wasn’t flattering on a woman my age. She even insulted Henry, saying and I quote “don’t they pay you enough to afford nicer clothes on these little movies you do?” Henry’s fame didn’t faze her in the slightest, if anything it made her even ruder, but Henry, the perfect gentlemen as always, just smiled in response, although the smile didn’t reach his eyes. Once I’d got mum and John settled in the living room with drinks, Henry found me in the kitchen opening a bottle of red wine with every intent of just necking the whole thing. He reached up and grabbed a wine glass from the cupboard above the sink and gently took the bottle out of my hands and poured for me. I sat down, rubbing the spot above my eyes where a headache was forming. Henry sat down next to me, handing me the wine. “I’m so sorry, this wasn’t the Christmas I had planned for us,” I said to him. He squeezed my leg, and smiled. “Any Christmas I spend with you is perfect. I just hate seeing you like this, so stressed. It’s not fair.” “You can say that again,” I mumbled, sipping my wine. Henry stood up and leant against the counter top. He suddenly looked very mischievous. “I have an idea. What you need is a distraction.” “I don’t have time for distractions, I’ve got to do all this cooking because God forbid I get anything wrong or don’t serve it on time…” I replied, waving a hand towards the stovetop where multiple pans were boiling away. “Come on, it will take five minutes…” “Henry I can’t-“ I started, but was interrupted with a shrill “Y/N!” coming from the living room, accompanied by what sounded like a fork being tapped against an empty wine glass. “Changed my mind, a distraction sounds fantastic,” I said, necking my wine and taking his hand. I was surprised when he led me to the room just next door, the utility room where I did the laundry. “What are we doing in here?” I laughed. Henry slid a box of laundry detergent across the door, essentially locking us in. He straightened up and turned around, licking his lips with a twinkle in his eye. I stopped laughing immediately. I knew what that look meant. “I told you, baby,” He walked towards me, slowly backing me up against the wall. “What you need is a distraction. And I am more than happy to be the one doing the distracting…” I swallowed, awareness coursing through my body. He was everywhere, his muscular arms caging me in, his scent threatening to overpower me as he leant in slowly and took my mouth with his in a smoldering kiss, the effect of which I could feel pooling down below. I was instantly wet and wanting for him. “And what type of distraction,” I panted. “Did you have in mind Mr Cavill?” “The type where my cock is deep inside of you.” I almost came there and then listening to his voice, my arousal building. I didn’t know how much I needed that until he’d said it and now, I was desperate. “And what if our guests hear us?” “Hmm. Maybe I should gag you.” He smiled the smile of the devil as he reached into the clean laundry pile and produced one of ties. Staring into my eyes, he asked wordlessly for my consent. I nodded clearly, my mouth dry, my pussy soaked. He rolled the tie up and pushed it into my open, waiting mouth, using another tie to hold it in place which he knotted at the back of my head. “Turn around,” he commanded, and I obeyed. He leant down and placed a tender kiss on my neck, then another, and another. I moaned; the sound muffled. I felt his smile against my neck. His hands roamed downwards, one sliding into my trousers and then into my panties. His breath hissed as he felt the evidence of my arousal. He circled my clit, the feeling exquisite, and it wasn’t long until he brought me to a gentle, rolling orgasm. I could feel his dick hard against my back, and silently willed him to put it inside me, and, as in tune as we always were, Henry complied. He pulled us away from the wall, turning us to face the dryer. One of his beautiful hands pushed slightly against my back, urging me to bend forwards. He grasped both of my hands in his other, placing them on top of the dryer with a whispered don’t move and then suddenly, finally, he was inside me, easing himself in gently, his groan echoing mine as he filled me up. And then he was moving, each thrust hitting me inside just right and suddenly I could feel that pressure building again, I was coming, I was coming hard around him, and he was emptying himself hotly into me, our joint orgasm exploding through us and at that moment I had never been more grateful for the gag. Gently, Henry pulled out from me and removed my makeshift gag. “Jesus, Cavill…” “I hope that helped” He winked. After we finished putting our clothes back on, he kissed me quickly on the lips and flashed me his award-winning smile. Shaking my head with a smile of my own I followed him out of the utility room back into the kitchen, timing it near perfect as my mother walked in just after. “Y/N! I was calling you! Now, where are we at with this food? Oh, that turkey looks awful, dry as a bone! I keep telling you, the secret is- “ “Oh, mother, do shut up,” I said, shocking her into silence. Henry winked again as he left the room, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter, as I turned back to the stovetop, ignoring my mother’s outraged commentary, feeling thoroughly relaxed and distracted.

[softinkshadows]

Hot spring tales (Hisoka x female reader)

A Hisoka x female reader one-shot, with a sprinkle of Chrollo.

Situated in the HxH universe with canon timeline.

Disclaimer: nsfw, contains smut and explicit sex (but we know you're here for that)

Word count: 5000++ (wow did i just write 5000 words of smutty smut)

----

Pale, slender fingers tap against the phone screen. He finds the contact he is looking for and dials the number, raising the phone to his ear. Around him, dusk settles over the ragged terrain of the Gordeau desert. The wind gains in strength, almost pushing his combed black hair free.  The phone rings for a few seconds before the person on the other end picks up.

“Did you figure it out already?”

“Probably,” he says, his grey eyes catching the last wisps of fading light to the west. “The nen exorcist may very well be on Greed Island, which is East of York New. It seems you will need to enter the game as well.”

“Shall I procure one of Battera’s? He did buy all of the ones auctioned this time round.”

“No, that risks complicating things. What we need is a game privately owned by someone who is easily contactable, allows us to stay untraceable, preferably one who we wouldn’t have to kill and is reasonable towards helping…” he trails off, realizing that there is indeed someone who matches the conditions, someone who he would very much like to avoid for the time being… The irony of fate, he thinks, grimacing in irritation.

“It seems we will need to pay a visit to her.”

“Her?”

“I will send the address over to you. It’ll take me at least a day to get there, so you should start moving first. It would be better if you were the one handling negotiations this time round. And avoid mentioning my name, or the troupe’s.”

“Oh?” the voice on the other end piques with curiosity.

“We have… history. I’ll trust that you can strike a deal by the time I’m there?”

“Of course. After all, the chance to fight you is on the line.” He can almost hear the other man smirking gleefully through the phone.

“It’ll be dangerous, so try your best to be good, or our deal is off. Consider this a warning, Hisoka.”

----

You find yourself back at your quarters after dinner, alone in the large dressing room. Looking in the mirror, you arrange your hair neatly around your bun, making sure to tidy it for the next wave of customers tonight.

The underground auction has recently ended, and more people are flocking to your establishment. Kurohasu Onsen (Black Lotus Onsen) is renowned as the gathering-place for anybody who is somebody: a bathhouse that functions as neutral ground for politicians, powerful members of the mafia and hunters who have ties to the underworld to carry out business negotiations. A safe haven for murderers and thieves. All are welcome, although at a hefty price. The exorbitant entry fee is itself a gatekeeper of accessibility, and many have brought treasures and precious artefacts in the hope of gaining your favour. As weapons are allowed for protection, fights inevitably break out, but rarely do they erupt into something serious. All staff at the onsen are strong nen-users who pay close watch to customer behaviour. They have nen-restrainers on hand to subdue feisty ability users, and if not, there’s you, whose mysterious yet formidable presence is enough to elicit compliance. It is not uncommon to see off customers with missing limbs and near-fatal injuries, a warning punishment for breaking the establishment’s regulations. Furthermore, it is the iron-clad rule that the onsen is the one place where truce is enforced, upheld, respected. And you, the infamous proprietor, the black lotus of Kurohasu Onsen, are not someone to be crossed. Your customers are well aware of this.

You get up, ready to leave, when you turn to look at the mirror again. Your black onyx hairpin fits in and across your bun, easily reachable within seconds. Your eyes travel down to look at the black shimmering contours of your silk robe with its ornate floral embroidery, opening at two slits that end above the knee, the garment tied fittingly at the waist with a scarlet obi sash. Presentable, you hum in approval, before walking out the door.

Your secretary Esa is already waiting. “Give me updates,” You demand.

She follows you briskly down the corridor as you make your rounds to greet notable clients. Esa does this every three hours, reciting the list of new guests checked in since the last report, the rooms they booked, the meetings they have arrived for, and the fees paid. You remember everything, noting the ones who offer presents not entirely up to standard, or troublesome ones with a sketchy behavioural record.

“A while ago, a Hisoka Morow checked into the deluxe room. 50,000 Jenny a night for 2 nights, with a possible extension.”

The name catches you slightly off guard. You have never met the man, but from your intel he’s one of the most sought-after fighters at Heaven’s Arena. And a dangerous murderer too. But as far as you know, the man works alone and doesn’t get involved with politics. Why would someone like him be here?

“He has a meeting?” you turn to Esa.

“If he had, he did not say. Most likely for leisure, though. The onsen is famous for its baths too,” replied your attendant matter-of-factly.

You pause for a while to think, before calling over a male security staff with a wave of a finger. “Keep tabs on Hisoka. Let me know if he’s up to anything.” The staff bows and immediately embarks on fulfilling your order. You return to your duties for now, but the seed of suspicion and uneasiness does not go away.

---

“Ahh… now this is not bad,” Hisoka smiles to himself as he climbs into the water. He rests his head against the smooth stone edge of the outdoor bath, watching the steam lift gently from the softly rippling surface. When Chrollo told him about this place, he expected it to be dim and grimy, trawling with underworld scum. Instead, what greeted him was the pure luxury of mineral-rich baths, large clean rooms and 1000 thread-count sheets. He could get used to this. Not to mention…

His eyes wander over the bath, taking stock of the situation. Being quite late at night, most guests have retired to respective meeting rooms for drinks and negotiations, with only a smattering of visitors, mostly individuals or pairs, left lounging in the outdoor section. The only other people are the ever-present security staff, including one particularly persistent male staff standing at the private viewing balcony above. At least the nen users here are stronger than usual. A slight tremor of pleasure runs through his body, and he runs his fingers through his wet hair to shake the feeling before it builds into bloodlust. It’s been a while since he killed. He is still riled up from two days ago, thanks to the blond runt. And Chrollo, that damn bastard.

He observes the nen-users with half-closed eyes. 75… 80… 85… He evaluates. Not too shabby. Then he senses it. 97!! He feels the sudden presence, an impeccable zetsu with a tinge of icy smoothness and fiery calm toiling beneath its surface. It is enough for him to widen his eyes and sit up straight, a hot tingling sensation travelling down his spine, pleasure surging into his body for a split second, almost goading him into a fight right there and then. Well, what do we have here? He looks to the source of this pressure, golden eyes flashing and meeting yours, as you look down at him from the balcony above.

One look and you know he clearly lives up to his reputation. He is suppressing his power by default, but his presence leaves a slight prickling static in the air which only stronger nen users can detect. He also seems to have noticed you, judging by the slight shift his posture, the electrifying gaze beneath his damp red hair and the sudden tension in the air with his nen flaring, almost breaking its zetsu. Despite the distance, both of you lock eyes for a moment, each one feeling out the other, gauging abilities, locating motives. What the hell is his aim? You face the sheer intensity of his gaze with your own cold, calculating glare, both of you guarding your intentions yet attempting to penetrate through the other’s guise, staring each other down as if in a challenge. No one relents. But you can’t help but feel a rising irritation, that the man sitting naked in the outdoor bath three floors beneath you is getting under your skin, and a distracting kind of warmth creeps in... You look away. You nod to the staff to continue strict monitoring and return to your room.

Hisoka watches you leave, and instinctively his fingers run through his hair again, this time harder than the last. Oh, Chrollo… Don’t tell me that’s her? A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. Oh, you were right. This is going to be dangerous.

---

You don’t hear any more concerning updates on Hisoka until later the next day. Besides using the baths for extended periods of time, and mild complaints from other guests of his lengthy and uncomfortable stares, he hasn’t caused any trouble. He hasn’t physically contacted anyone either.

“Come again?” you stop abruptly, mid-way through scanning the paper records of this month’s taxes and bills, glancing up at your secretary.

Esa clears her throat and speaks again. “Madam, Hisoka Morow has requested for a meeting with you today.”

Hmph. You scoff a little, your eyes narrowing to ponder the next course of action. You had expected something like this. There is no way someone like him would travel all the way here just to use the baths, let alone without engaging anyone. If his aim is to negotiate matters with you, it must be something quite serious, given that neither of you have gone out of your way to meet with each other previously.

“Shall I cancel?” Esa asks, ready to deliver the order and reject the fool that had the nerve to request a meeting with you on such short notice.

“No. Make it tonight at eleven, after I complete my usual rounds.”

“Understood.”

---

It is night, and the onsen quietens for the day. Only the soft rushes of spring water from the outdoor baths and the muffled sounds of late-night negotiations drift by. You find yourself finally seated across from him in one of your private meeting rooms, both of you silent but never once taking your eyes off each other, quietly assessing one another.

Now up close and clothed in a blue yukata, accentuating the red hair that falls close to his shoulders, you can’t help but find him just a little more attractive than you imagined. His golden eyes are calm, steady, even confident, a rarity for anyone for finds them in a room alone with you. Most people would have bowed their head in submission long ago. You keep your own icy composure. But the force of his nen suppressed under zetsu, his incredibly toned body beneath his yukata and that arrogant way he looks at you make your body feel warmer than usual.

When he sees you for the first time that night, seated on the far end of the room, he feels it again. That powerful presence that keeps goading him, that sends electrifying jolts through his body. You’re seated comfortably on the floor, almost reclining, yet the hard, murderous edge of your gaze shows you are constantly on guard. Simply exquisite. He almost licks his lips but controls himself. A fine opponent… to kill? No, no, much too soon… that would be a waste. Chrollo comes first.

The meeting hall is much too large for two people, spanning over 24 tatami in size. On both sides, paper screen doors open out into an elegant view of the autumn trees in the estate, shedding its red delicately in the wind. A long, low black lacquer table in the center of the room separates you and him, each of you seated on either end. Silence continues to hang in the air. A staff gracefully pours a luxurious blend of sencha into the cups, before she places the tea pot and tray on the floor, bows, and takes her leave quickly. You notice Esa hovering by the doorway to the room.

“Esa, you may go.”

“But Madam-” your secretary protests but stops as you give her a glare. She of all people would understand you’re probably the last person in the establishment who needs any form of protection. As her footsteps recede down the hallway outside, you turn back to the man in front of you.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of meeting you today?”

“It has come to my knowledge,” Hisoka finally speaks, and the slow, sly curl of his tone lights another fire in you, “that you are in possession of one of the most sought-after items in the world of late. I have a pressing need for it and would like to negotiate a deal.”

“I’m a collector of the rarest treasures, so you’re going to have to be more specific,” you scoff, taking a sip of your tea.

“I’m talking about a certain game.”

“Ah, Greed Island,” you retort indifferently, although inwardly puzzled. Why would he go to such lengths just for a game? Didn’t seem like the type. “What makes you think I’ll agree to your request? What is in it for me?”

Hisoka pauses, contemplating something before pushing onwards with a slight smirk. “I’m not sure if you know of a certain man by the name of… Chrollo Lucilfer?”

He waits for the intended effect and sure enough, you react. Immediately, at the mention of the name you’re hit with an unpleasant sensation that makes you grit your teeth, and your eyes blaze with a hint of fury. Without realizing, a cracking sound fills the room as the cast iron tea pot on the floor dents with the force of your nen.

Hisoka looks at the pot quietly before he smiles, lifting the tea cup to his lips, his eyes only growing darker as he trains his gaze on you. Interesting. “May I know, if it’s not too much to ask, the reason for your disdain of the man?”

“I’ve known him for a long time. He tried to kill me twice, once on purpose and the second time by accident. Clearly, he did not succeed,” you say, finishing your tea.

Beautifully exquisite. Another thrill runs through his spine, almost making him tremble with excitement. Perhaps it would be safe to suggest…

“I’m looking for Chrollo. He’s been running from me for a while now, and last I heard he has been spotted hiding out in the game. I would very much like to settle our score soon. Of course, perhaps to your advantage I fully intend on killing him, with pleasure,” Hisoka continues, waving his hand in the air with dismissive complacency.

“If only it were so simple,” you retort, knowing the full potential of Chrollo’s abilities. “And how can I take you for your word?”

“You can’t.”

You look up in mild distaste at Hisoka. What a bastard. You could slit his throat right now, with that cocky expression of his. And yet, your body feels a little hot when he’s looking at you, his gaze ruthlessly penetrating and his nen just on the edge of flaring.

“Name your offer, Hisoka.” You say his name for the first time, aware of how his gaze hardens when you do so, and your body burns with a strange desire which you suppress under the guise of irritation.

“I’m not offering.”

“What?”

“Allow me to use the game, or I will go on to kill everyone in this establishment, including your precious secretary and all your guests. It’s been a while since I had fun and I won’t stop when I do.”

The audacity. You slam your cup on the table and glare at him, your nen bristling beneath the surface. It was a mistake to let him into the bathhouse. And the worst part is that he is right. He could take out everyone except you here with ease, and you’d lose your manpower, your reputation, your business. Everything you worked hard for since leaving meteor city years ago. Perhaps it’ll be wise to dispose of him right here, right now.

In a split second, you draw the long onyx pin from your hair, leaping across the length of the table with such grace and speed that the tea in Hisoka’s cup barely ripples, as you aim for this throat, slicing the air in front of you. He dodges at the last moment, his eyes wild with a feral look as you nick of a few strands of his hair and the sharp edge of your hairpin draws a faint red line along his throat. He grins. He’s clearly enjoying this. He moves to land a counter-attack but you jump away. You’ve put distance between the two of you again; you grip your hair pin, calm and poised for another strike, while he similarly crouches, one hand reaching to stroke the mark you made on his throat.

“Now you’re just getting me excited,” his voice drops to a low purr.

Here you are, seconds after nearly killing him, and you feel your body reacting to his voice and his unapologetic desire. You know you have the power to end him, yet a tingling sensation creeps over the lower half of your body. You can feel sweat starting to gather around your stomach, while another warm wetness pools further below, between your legs. It’s been so long since anyone made you feel this way. Not since… Your thoughts are interrupted as he appears behind you, aiming for your head.

“Pay attention, darling.”

There’s barely any sound in the meeting room as you and Hisoka continue to spar in near complete zetsu, restraining nen to avoid alerting the attention of other guests and the security staff. His eyes gleam more with your every strike, his moves maintain its strength but do not get more forceful, and neither do yours. You feel the exhilaration of the near-misses, of your bodies brushing against one another before pulling away, the light friction of fabric against fabric, as if locked in a graceful dance that neither of you want to end. Moonlight cascades through the open balcony, and there’s a glint in Hisoka’s eyes.

“Let’s stop pretending we’re serious about killing each other, shall we?” he quips with a smirk.

His words register, and you halt. You weren’t noticing it before, but he is right. You weren't trying. You falter for a moment too long. Then he rushes you, pinning your body down onto the floor with his own weight, brute force mixed with excitement to the point that his nails dig into the straw of the tatami below, ripping it slightly. He raises a hand, about to spill your blood, when your control slips. Before, your brief exchanges saw your body feeling hotter, winding tighter as it did more cautious. But now, with him pressing down onto you from above, not pulling away, gripping with a strength that few possess and with a wicked look in his eyes, you can’t keep it down anymore. You let out a throaty moan as his holds you hard, feeling your underwear getting more soaked with every passing second. His eyes widen in surprise, and he pauses. You and him remain quiet like this for a while, the wind from outside gently caressing both your bodies, teasing out an answer.

Then, as if on instinct, both your mouths crash together. Neither of you are ashamed at the pure lust that erupts between the two of you, bloodlust still not completely abating which spurs you and him on even more. His tongue slips into you mouth, determined on stealing your breath, your hand clasped around your hair pin still trapped within his, his ferocious strength barely just surpassing your own as you do not back down, struggling against the restraint. It is still a fight, after all. Yet his other free hand trails down your silk robe, slithering between the open slits to your thighs before raising one of your legs to wrap around his torso. You moan into his kiss and move against his clothed body, desperate for friction.

"Patience, my dear." He pauses, giving you a sadistic grin.

You’re not going to let him keep staying in control. In a surge of strength you topple and roll over him in a flash, slamming him to the floor and stabbing the pin right into the tatami next to his head, at which Hisoka lets out a loud groan. You press and rub yourself against him, leaving small bites along his neck, your hair starting to come loose and fall to the side of your face from the exertion. The warmth between your legs grows, and it’s not just you. Hisoka is only wearing underwear beneath the yukata, and you feel his erection, hot and hard beneath your rolling hips. You feel your own slick starting to run down your inner thigh, and you ache to be filled.

You pull away and gaze down at Hisoka, who’s just starting to get a little breathless with desire, his eyes clouded with lust. You pull the hairpin from the floor and aim it at his throat. You command, your voice cold and edged with arrogance.

“Stop wasting my time and just fuck me already.”

At this, Hisoka lets out a low growl, flipping you on your back, almost tearing the obi around your waist to shreds with his hands. His mouth latches onto your neck and you cry out, as his hands reach under your bra to free your breasts, rolling your nipples between his fingers, alternating between gentle strokes and forceful pinches. Your body shakes with pleasure and you grind against him, your hands fumbling to move his yukata out of the way. You cover your palm over his bulge, which is already straining hard against his underwear. He bites a little harder on your skin as you do, goading you on. You reach beneath the fabric, stroking his most sensitive spot, and you feel him shudder against you. Oh, to have such a powerful man like him at your mercy.

Before you have time to think, your pleasure increases ten-fold, white-hot and surging through your body as his fingers find their way to your slit, obscenely slick with your honey.

“Oh? This wet for me already?” he murmurs into your ear, sending shivers down your arms and making you moan.

He sits back a little, his piercing gaze boring into you as he lifts his fingers to his lips, licking it clean. “So sweet,” he whispers, his eyes never leaving you, almost taunting your state of helplessness before him, and you twitch with pleasure.

“Shut u-” you demand, stopping short with a intake of breath as his tongue circles your nipple and he thrusts two fingers into your aching slit, expertly thrusting, stroking, caressing, hitting all the right spots as you can’t help but moan and fist his soft, red locks. His thumb finds your bud and rubs, with increasing pressure, matching the circling motions of his tongue. Hisoka pulls away and looks down at you, panting and wriggling beneath his touch, your words incoherent but eyes still fierce with power and control, and he finds himself growing harder, unbearably hungry. You feel his desire through his nen, bristling with lust, fingers coaxing you to bliss and eyes ravishing you unabashedly for everything you are and you feel yourself pushed nearer to the edge.

“I’m close,” you gasp, and you see Hisoka smirk dangerously as he pulls his fingers out of you. The pleasure that builds now cuts short, tapering off.

“Kisama,” you mutter in annoyance as you ram his body against the side of the lacquer dining table, pushing him into an upright, sitting position. He chuckles at your urgency and vexation yet remains turned on as you clutch your hairpin over his throat as a warning. His golden eyes are glazed over and quivering, a sign he is properly riled up, his hair now a mess, and his breathing is slightly heavier than before. You pull his large erection free from his underwear.

“You bastard. I’m not going to give you any time.” You growl, and his eyes grow more piercing.

You lower your soaking, aching pussy onto him. The stretch makes both of you groan in unison, and you almost come immediately from his entrance. He is huge in both girth and length, and it takes a while before you’re accustomed to his size. It was so long since you had proper sex with anyone. After he is buried in you to the hilt, you pause, glaring at him with a look aggressive with lust and a need for control. He moans in pleasure and you feel his grip on you tighten considerably. Then you move, slowly first, then quickening your pace, rolling and rubbing against him so his cock enters you at the best angles. His hands reach up to grab your hips, steadying you while he snaps up into you, pounding with such speed it makes your mind go blank with pleasure.

“Ahh-h—h!” you moan, louder this time, shaking with the mounting pleasure as he enters you fast, viciously, more than you can keep up with. You get wetter with each of his thrusts, squelching and slapping sounds filling empty room as he pulls out and fills you completely again with each punishing stroke. You feel yourself nearing your climax, your body swaying and jiggling with the rhythm as your bounce on Hisoka's cock, pressing your fingers harder around his body.

He senses it too, and growls, refusing to take his eyes from yours. You feel his nails rake your hips, grabbing your ass, pain and pleasure intermingling as your near your end. Waves of white-hot pleasure wash over you as you moan into your orgasm, your eyes closed in bliss as you tremble violently, clenching tightly around Hisoka, muttering curses as you come completely undone.

Before you have time to come down from your high, Hisoka pulls out, his rock-hard cock dripping with your honey, before grabbing you and laying you down on the table, towering over you once more. Then he fully sheaths himself inside you in one go, making you cry out at the jolt of oversensitivity as he pushes towards his own end. Using the slick from your orgasm, he goes even faster now, relentless, his hands holding your legs wide apart so he can have unfettered access to you while he slams into you without restraint.

"You like this, don't you? You like being punished like this?" He purrs with forcefulness, a sign he is close, lustful gaze boring into yours while he pummels into you.

You can't help but shudder at his words, but you spit out through gritted teeth. "Don't get cocky. And don't you dare finish inside, or I'll kill you before you are even done."

His control snaps. You feel his cock twitch inside of you. Then he pulls out and comes, moaning with deep satisfaction in your ear, his warm load spilling onto your stomach. After he finishes, you both gaze as each other for a while, barely out of breath, sweat glistening against skin. Your clothes are both in a mess and disarray, his hands are still spreading you wide and bare torso pressed against you as you both bask in the afterglow, sharing a moment to take in the surreal pleasure of what was an extremely unplanned but steaming hot round of sex.

"So with this, do we have a deal?" He breaks the silence with a devious smile.

"I'm not that cheap if you think once is enough." You retort as you clean up, pulling your clothes back on. "At least three more times, with an additional fee of 300,000 Jenny."

"Aren't you a greedy one," Hisoka smirks, tying his yukata back in place. "Alright. It's a deal, not like I'm complaining. I might deliver more than you ask for." His golden eyes travel across your body once more before meeting yours, and you can still see a faint glimmer of lust, ready to be reignited.

"Enjoying yourself?" An icy voice comes from the darkened doorway.

You don't even need to look to know who it is, recognizing the voice immediately. Cold grey eyes gaze at you from a figure leaning against the entryway.

"Chrollo," you almost spit out.

"Ah," says Hisoka naturally, "you're finally here."

You turn to scowl at Hisoka, realizing his blatant lie from earlier. You wonder for a moment how Chrollo even got in to the onsen without your notice, given that him and the troupe remain high up on your guest blacklist. Then you sense his nen, or rather his lack of it, a blur void except for the vague tinge of someone else’s foreign nen around his chest. A contract, then. He's harmless now.

Chrollo steps into the room, dressed elegantly in a black yukata, his hair let down comfortably. "Seems like you taste in men hasn't changed. I took a gamble on that." His steely grey gaze, piercing, calculating and formidable in confidence, still make you tremble a little, despite knowing him for years.

You take a while to understand and chuckle, looking from Chrollo to Hisoka. "Seems like we both got played."

The latter narrows his eyes at Chrollo before running his hand through his hair, sighing. "Well, as expected of him. Again, not like I'm complaining."

"Hisoka, leave us for a moment," you order.

"As you wish." You feel him step out but loiter along the corridor, waiting to pick up on the following conversation. Now it's just you and Chrollo left in the room. He doesn't move closer to you.

"It's been long. Too... long." Chrollo speaks, his voice calm but you detect a tinge of nostalgia, affection, regret and caution all entangled in one.

You know what he means. You can even see it now, the times he drove you wild, nearly killing you with nen. You can see all the times his lips met yours, growing a steady fire with a kiss, his fingers grazing your skin and making you moan and whimper while you grasp his hair tight in your hands, your mind blanking and feeling the universe come apart and stitch right back together...

"You won't be able to handle me now, in your current state. I would break you. It wont be pleasurable for any of us," you reply coolly. You catch the sound of a stifled laugh from the hallway outside. "Once you get your nen back, I just might reconsider."

You stand up, letting your silk robes fall gracefully past your knees once more. You arrange your bun and slip the onyx pin back into your hair.

"You can use the game tomorrow. I'll have it prepared. Tonight, I'll be busy receiving my payment. In full." You pause a little next to him, giving him one last, long look, before walking out the room and towards your quarters, Hisoka trailing behind.

Alone, Chrollo's eyes are deep and unreadable. Unconsciously, his hands are balled into tight fists by his sides. Then he breathes deeply, chuckling to himself.

What a woman. "Hisoka, you'd better get the job done. Fast."

---

Notes: omg this took way longer than i expected to!!! I’m quite proud of this one ;) I got inspired by a mobage card of hisoka, chrollo and the phantom troupe at an onsen and decided to do this imagine piece! Hope you enjoyed my fellow hisoka simps, it was so fun to write ;)

[a-libra-writes]

Belonging - Stannis Baratheon x Wife!Reader

this is 1000% self indulgent and gift to myself after having an awful time LMAO please enjoy. i love this man so much. excuse the terrible title yall know i think of them absolutely last

Summary: Takes place around the time Robert was crowned, when Stannis and the Reader are married for less than a year. Robert’s drunkenness results in some jealousy and misunderstandings (and making up).

There was one thing she had to admit about the Southerners, at least the ones in King’s Landing: They could certainly throw a party.

Lady Y/N couldn’t count how many she’d been to in the past year, or even the past month. It was just another pastime in King’s Landing, as natural to the highborns as drinking wine and wearing silk. If there was no pressing matter for him to attend to, and if he was bored, King Robert would have a feast.

Hells, he’d throw one even if the city gates were on fire, goblet in one hand and his axe in another. And as an honored sister-in-law, Y/N was invited to every gathering. Naturally the invitation was extended to Stannis, but no one expected her husband to actually attend. When they first married he’d gone for her sake, and for the sake of appearances, but that was no longer needed after nearly a year of being together.

Y/N had mixed feelings about that. She didn’t want Stannis to be miserable and on edge the whole evening, because he would be, but she was willing to admit she missed him. Sitting on the dais in her honored seat, it wouldn’t matter who sat at her left, because her attention would be on Stannis, who always sat to her right. At first it was her expected wifely duty to attend with him. To ensure they both looked as a pair, their houses united for the sake of the king… even if the king and his queen were constantly squabbling. That made Y/N and her husband’s united front even more important.

Stannis didn’t like to shout at her above the feast-goers, so he’d lean in, and she’d do the same until their shoulders pressed together. That small contact used to make him tense, but eventually he relaxed into it, just like they both relaxed into the conversation that would pass. Who was drinking too much, who was attending for the first time in years, when the madness would be over and they could go back to their quarters. Talking to Stannis became easy, and eventually they’d just pick up whatever conversation was left off before the feast. It would be nearly midnight, with revelers laughing and dancing and passing out all around them, and Stannis and Y/N would still be talking back and forth on the dais.

They didn’t just do that, though. She could coax him into a dance, taking his thin hand in her’s and pulling him to his feet. During their firsts feasts together, it was all show. Look at the newlyweds: the humorless brother of the king and his wild Northern bride. They were an act, a sideshow, and Y/N was determined to quiet the snickers and smirks. Stannis tolerated two dances, and he was stiff as a board the entire time, but Y/N was graceful. She could smile and silently guide him through, and soon, they blended in with the rest of the crowd. People stopped gawking when it became clear he wouldn’t stumble and she knew the Southern songs.

He still hated it, but when he saw her looking longingly at dancing pairs, Stannis would stare at her hand before carefully moving his fingers over her’s. Y/N’s excited eyes would meet his, and he’d reflexively squeeze her hand, pleased he could bring that light to her face. He would still only do the minimum amount of dances, but now they moved together, and they stood closer. He didn’t need her guidance to know where his feet should go next. And if the crowd was thinning out and paying more attention to their drinks than the music, he could hear her witty remarks about the guests and give his own.

They left early compared to the other revelers, and especially compared to the king. There would still be laughter and voices echoing off the halls as they disappeared into the vastness of the Red Keep. Y/N would take off her shoes and hold onto his arm, her mind spinning from sleepiness and drink, and Stannis would guide her back to their quarters, which always seemed too far away. Often he’d hold her shoes, once he carried her.

Y/N frowned as she recalled all this. There wouldn’t be any of that tonight - she couldn’t talk to Stannis, or dance with him, or lean on his broad shoulders on the way back. Yes, she had her little friends and acquaintances, but that wasn’t the same. She was startled by how much her heart tugged at her, like it wanted to pull her out of her seat and lead her toward the person she was missing.

My friends wanted me to attend, and I made all this effort on my gown and hair. I ought to stay at least another hour. Y/N had been looking forward to the food and music, but as the minutes passed, all the voices and the stuffiness of the hall began to irk her. She’d been to these parties alone before and hadn’t felt this pitiful. I need to get ahold of myself and have some fun, damn it.

At least King Robert and Queen Cersei had long left the dais, off to do their mingling separately. They stayed apart as much as possible, Y/N observed. She slipped off the dais herself, determined to find someone she knew and get herself a dance. She carefully lifted her black gown, letting the back trail gracefully as she crossed into the crowd. It was one of Y/N’s favorite gowns, a beautifully slimming dress made of chiffon that hugged at her waist. The skirt was long and luxurious, fluttering behind her as she made the smallest movements. In the light, the gold thread that was woven through the black fabric shimmered and gave the effect of her body sparkling.

Y/N only needed modest jewelry and a simple belt of black diamonds and gold to accessorize it; she felt her body and the gown were statement enough. When she walked, she allowed herself to indulge in the power her status brought. Being the sister-in-law of a King, few could approach her directly. She could refuse dances, refuse conversation. Lords could leer, but they couldn’t hope to have her direct attention, and they had to keep a respectful distance. It was a far cry from the feasts from when Y/N was a girl freshly flowered, and her father wouldn’t stop parading her around eligible men, like a slab of fresh lamb on a platter. Those humiliating days were over.

She raised her chin and exuded the confidence she felt. An older woman passed her, then stopped and looked twice. Her eyes brightened with shameless delight. “Lady Y/N! What an honor! Please, would you grace my family with a few words? My daughter would so love to speak to you.”

Y/N’s stomach flipped, but her face remained steady. She faintly recalled this woman and her house - an old Kingslander family - but she didn’t need to remember names. She just had to say, “Lead the way, my lady,” And the woman practically giggled as she did so.

From there she was bounced from family to family, dancing here and socializing there. Y/N was good with her words, and a few times she ran into a friend that gave her an escape when the conversation became too much. When that gnawing loneliness would bite at her, Y/N would quickly move to another dance partner. It was funny to feel so lonely in the middle of a feast, but here she was, glancing longingly at the open doorways as if he’d actually walk through them.

Once her feet started aching, Y/N felt the need to call it a night. That gnawing in her chest had turned into a bruise that someone wouldn’t stop touching. The pinching shoes were just making it worse. She sat down on a bench to lift her skirt slightly and look at the damage - no blisters yet, but that could change. Y/N glanced around, wondering what time it was. Her first thought was: Is he still awake?

She could just picture Stannis hunched over his desk, muttering irritably over a collection of papers. Or maybe she’d catch him in a calmer mood, reading a book by the hearth or getting ready for bed.

I need to control myself. I doubt he thinks of me as much.

That wasn’t a pleasant thought, so she set it aside. Y/N stood, wincing as the pain shot from her feet to her calves. She’d throw the shoes out as soon as she was back.

Y/N passed a boisterous circle of people on her way to the door, and she knew who caused it. King Robert was sitting on top of a table, loudly singing war songs with the old lords and their sons who had fought for him. Y/N glanced back a moment, watching them with amusement. The King was completely drunk, there was no question of that, but he was full of mirth and life. His blue eyes sparkled as he tipped his drink to a lord that hit a high note, then someone made a jap and everyone laughed again.

He reminded her of one of her brothers, one who was always laughing and didn’t take anything seriously. Y/N understood why men followed the king into battle, and why they liked him now. She understood why others misliked him. Personally, she was unsure if laughter, drink and song were the right recipe for a king.

When she turned away and nearly stepped over the threshold into the dark hall, she heard him. It was impossible not to hear that booming voice. “Y/N! Where are you going, sister? Have you always been here?”

Oh, hells. Y/N turned around and put a smile on her face. It’s not that she had no particular bad feelings toward Robert, he was just so much, and she was tired. He reeked of wine when he approached her, as expected, just as she expected his wild black hair and more practical clothes. Even when he was full of wine, his strength and height were imposing compared to Y/N. She understood how he could kill Rhaegar Targaryen.

“You seem to be having a lovely night, your grace,” Y/N said, planning words for escape. “Everyone is enjoying the feast as much as you are, that is plain to see. It’s all a bit too much for me.”

The smile he returned was also expected. Drunk men were not difficult to flatter. “Glad you made it, Y/N. You know Stannis never wants to bother. Surprised he didn’t keep you from it.”

“Well, he doesn’t dictate what I can or can’t do.”

To Y/N’s confusion, Robert found the comment hilarious and almost spilled his wine as he laughed. “Damned right. My brother always thinks he has the right to order others around.”

She flushed in embarrassment. Y/N hadn’t meant it like that. Rather, she and Stannis were independent. He wasn’t controlling like some husbands could be, and treated her like her own person, besides. Robert drained the last of his wine and tossed the goblet carelessly. It hit a table and rolled off the side.

“We should dance, Y/N. There’s damn good musicians tonight.”

“... If you wish, your grace. I could manage one.”

Damn it all. It was just the thing she wanted to avoid. Y/N hoped he wouldn’t rope her into half a dozen dances; ideally, he’d get bored or nauseous after a while... Or better, a busty serving girl would pass and his attention would be completely taken away.

“You ought to call me Robert!” He insisted as they settled into position. Robert towered over Y/N even more, but he held her loosely in his large hands. “All these damned titles. I think some men already forgot my name.”

“It’s a matter of respect - and they could never forget their king.” Y/N said, but he probably wasn’t listening. Several nobles and courtiers were watching them, and it made her embarrassment all the worse. She tried to keep up with his long steps, and Robert held her closer as he avoided a stumble. She prayed they were all too drunk to remember this, or notice who she was.

At least he was able to avoid crashing into other dancing pairs. The King looked down at Y/N with a puzzled expression. “Where is Stannis, anyway?”

Where do you think he is? Y/N thought, but said, “Attending to his work, I presume.”

“What work? What in the seven hells could he be doing, leaving you here?”

“I’m attending on my own, your grace.” Y/N said patiently. “I’ve hardly been ‘left’. Stannis prefers quiet to crowds, as you know.”

“Don’t I know it. He’s always been strange.” Robert grunted. He was lost in thought for a moment, or perhaps he had a spot of dizziness from the drink. Again, he looked down at her, but Y/N was perplexed by what he could find interesting. She wished the song was over already. This silence was uncomfortable.

Suddenly, Robert said with a laugh, “Imagine, if Stannis got stuck with that lioness instead. Her curse of a father would never allow it, but - ha! I’d like to see who’d win. Can’t sharpen her claws on stone.”

Y/N had no idea how to respond to that. Was he referring to Stannis marrying Cersei? What did that have to do with anything? “Your grace, I …”

“Would’ve been better if it was you and me, hm?”

Robert’s large hand slipped dangerously low on her waist, and the way he so casually slid his fingers down her side made Y/N’s blood turn to ice. He held her closer still, grinning like there was some secret between the two of them. The iciness spread to her gut and squeezed it hard.

Y/N hastily glanced around, wondering if anyone noticed - for a fleeting second, if anyone would save her. Her heels squeezed her feet as they danced, the aching returning with a vengeance. Robert had her in an iron grip, and he kept stroking her hip.

“He isn’t any good, I bet,” Robert mumbled, the drink beginning to affect him now. They swayed a little, and he leaned down, pressing his cheek against the top of her head. “Bet he doesn’t know what to do with a pretty thing like you.”

Y/N gritted her teeth. “Your grace. The song is over.”

It wasn’t, but she tried to pull away. Robert blinked, swaying with her sudden movement. He righted the two of them. “There’s still plenty of night left, Y/N. I’ll get us a better drink, this Dornish swill doesn’t sit with me.”

Let go! Her head screamed. The discomfort and sickness in her stomach reached a peak, and she all put pushed at his muscular body. Y/N stumbled back, her heels pinching her hard. “E-Excuse me, your grace,” She hurried through an excuse without looking at him. “I feel ill. I should rest.”

She didn’t bother to listen to Rober’s response. Y/N turned on her heel and skittered away, not caring about the looks she received as she darted through the crowd to the hallway. Away from the feast, the Keep’s red stone halls were cold and soothing. She picked a doorway and took herself as far as her biting heels would allow. It wasn’t until she reached a dead end that Y/N took in a deep breath of air and slid down to her knees. She heard seams pop in her dress from the swift movement.

She took in another breath, slowly released it, then took in another. The ice in her veins had turned to bile in her stomach. She oriented herself and staggered her way to the private apartments meant for the family of the king.

The door opened suddenly. The only evidence of Stannis’ surprise was how sharply his eyes glanced up. He was in the same place she left him, doing the same thing - sifting through a storm of paperwork on a desk. She hurried to the bedchambers.

She flopped on the bed, feeling her hairnet coming loose and hearing several more seams popping. The dress was too damned tight. She sucked in a breath and began unlacing it, grateful a handmaiden didn’t wait up for her. They were kind, but they hovered, and she didn’t want to be around anyone right now. Y/N’s head began to pound, and she tried to concentrate on undoing the dress without tearing any more of it.

There was a knock at the door, and she flinched, then sighed. Of course he’d knock. “Come in.”

Stannis never seemed entirely comfortable coming in when she dressed, even if it was his bedroom too. He averted his eyes as Y/N worked her dress off. “You’ve returned early.”

Y/N cleared her voice to make sure it was steady, and blinked her eyes a few times to keep the stinging at bay. “Is it early? I was already so tired.”

They had silence before, but this felt oppressing. Y/N tried to ignore it. She gave up on removing the dress; her braids and hairpins were a chore to remove, so they’d be a welcome distraction. Maybe he’d go back to his work, and she could go to bed and just pretend this night didn’t --

In a few steps, Stannis crossed the room and knelt before her. Y/N’s hair fell to her shoulders as she pulled the last pin, but her hand stayed suspended as she looked at him questioningly. Even in the candlelight, she saw a blush tinging his cheeks. He avoided her gaze and unlaced her heels, carefully holding her ankle as he pulled them off.

Carefully. Gently. She was instantly reminded of harsh hands gripping her, and the feeling of ice running up her limbs returned. Before Y/N could say anything, Stannis quickly stood and put her shoes away.

Y/N curled her legs up to her chest and tucked her feet under her skirts. “Thank you.”

“You have blisters.” Stannis said. “Should I get an ointment?”

“No,” Y/N murmured. She peeked at her toes and saw how red they were. She could feel the throbbing on her heels and ankles, too.

“You should have them made anew, or just toss them. This happened before.”

“Did it?” Y/N tried to remember the last time she wore the shoes. She faintly recalled that’s when Stannis carried her up the stairs to their apartment. Did she really wear these shoes back then? Maybe she kept them so he’d carry her again.

Stannis returned to her side, kneeling down again. He was so tall, they were still eye-to-eye. Not only did the candlelight make his blush more obvious, it made his blue eyes look nearly black. A pair of unfocused, lust-filled blue eyes flashed across her vision, and she squeezed one of the cold hairpins in her hand to focus. It was like night and day.

“You didn’t …” Stannis started to say, breaking Y/N out of her unpleasant memory. “You usually … say goodnight.”

Y/N felt her chest tighten, but not in an unpleasant way. True, she usually walked to his desk to kiss him hello, and then a goodnight once she was dressed down and ready for bed. She’d urge him into bed, since he was clearly exhausted … and she may or may not have had certain ulterior motives.

“I’m sorry, Stannis. I’m rather tired.” Y/N said. She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his cheek, and their noses brushed as she pulled away. Stannis closed his eyes, as if taking in her warmth and smell. A terrible thought occurred, if he could smell the alcohol and sweat and somehow, Robert.

Stannis frowned slightly. “Does your head trouble you?”

I bet he isn’t any good.

“Yes,” Y/N said quickly. “I … I don’t feel well.”

He doesn’t know what to do with a pretty thing like you.

She felt warm hands on her cheeks, then on her forehead. Stannis’ brow was furrowing in that way he always did, but instead of trying to solve ledgers and paperwork, he was puzzling over … her. Y/N’s cheeks warmed under that serious gaze, and she self-consciously looked away.

“I’ll fetch some water.” Stannis said, finally breaking the silence. It was clear he had more to say, but as always, his tongue ended up tied around her. By the time Stannis returned, Y/N was in her nightgown and nestled in bed. She hadn’t bothered to brush her hair out, or wash her face, which was so unlike her. With a frown, he set the water down and tucked her in. Perhaps she would feel better in the morning - and she’d wake to a good breakfast and a drawn bath.

Y/N felt just as disoriented and ugly waking up as she did falling asleep. She’d slept in far later than she had before, and opted to stay in the bedroom to nurse her hangover and lingering negative emotions. The handmaidens doted on her, spurred by Stannis’ concern - when she finally did wake, there was ointment, a hot bath and a large breakfast waiting for her.

When she next saw him, Y/N pretended she was better. It was easy to do that when her kisses and thankfulness were genuine. That made Stannis believe she really was better, that it was only a hangover, exhausting evening and bad shoes.

In time, Y/N could press that unpleasant night to the back of her mind. She could have never told Stannis because it would only cause trouble, and besides, what could he do? Robert was king. Nothing really happened. If she said anything, her friends would roll their eyes, insist it wasn’t that bad, or be openly jealous at having the attention of the king. She would pretend it was fine, and forget.

The rest of the courtiers wouldn’t do the same, however. There were whispers that grew into words. There were those who wanted gossip, those who had ill intent to begin with, those who were bored and wanted something new to gasp at. They all helped the words and rumors spread, and Y/N blocked them all out, taking refuge in her royal apartments. She never expected they’d reach Stannis; Usually he ignored the asinine gossip that spread around the Red Keep - the only thing that spread faster was the lover’s pox, he said. He never believed any of it, never even entertained listening to it.

Until he figured out what the handmaidens, knights, servants and lords and lords’ wives were tittering about. It was all the same thing.

For once, the young Baratheon didn’t think. He could barely see, let alone reason, with all the rage flowing through him. Anyone who saw him storm down the hall couldn’t deny he was a Baratheon. The anger in his blue eyes was like a summer hurricane.

He put all of his strength into throwing open the heavy doors to Robert’s private visiting chambers. All three of its occupants - Robert, Jon Arryn and Ser Jaime - startled from the abrupt noise. Jaime, who was normally quick to his sword, faltered when he saw who was the source of that noise.

Robert had already set down his drink. He wasn’t startled enough to drop it, but he did carelessly spill on the polished wood table. Robert anticipated something mundane wound up his little brother - taxes not adding up, maybe he forgot a meeting with a lord, something stupid like that. “Seven hells, Stannis, what’s got you fired up --”

“Keep your godsdamned hands to yourself, or I’ll cut them off!”

Robert nearly choked on his tongue, and Lord Arryn almost joined him. The old man was normally so quick to settle his former ward’s temper, but he hadn’t ever seen the same kind of wrath in Stannis. His mind was rushing for words to calm the man, but Jaime responded with action. The kingsguard stepped forward, his hand on his sword. “Is that a threat to your king, Lord Stannis?”

“What did it bloody sound like? Do I need to repeat myself?” Stannis’ teeth gritted. He didn’t even glance at Jaime.

Now it was Robert’s turn to flare his temper. “What the seven hell’s wrong with you, Stannis? Do you know who you’re talking to?”

Lord Arryn stepped between Robert, who was now standing, and his brother. The only other thing between them was a long mahogany table, now looking as small and pitiful as driftwood. “Your Grace, Lord Stannis - please take a moment and compose yourselves. Ser Jaime, there’s no need for --”

“You’ll show respect to your older brother, and your king!”

“I won’t give anything to a drunken lecher that would interfere with my wife!”

Robert jumped to his feet, and for a second, Jaime was sure he’d throw the table. It wouldn’t be difficult for the giant of a man. At the same time, Stannis reached for his waist, and Robert reached for his shoulder… and in an instant they both realized they weren’t armed, and thank the gods for that. Jaime didn’t doubt the servants would be scrubbing Stannis’ guts off the floor for days.

“Enough!” Lord Arryn bellowed. Slight as he was, he could have a commanding voice. “This is madness! What is your grievance toward His Grace, Lord Stannis? Has something happened?”

“He would know.” Stannis said. “At the last feast -- you disrespected Y/N, and her honor. You treated her like one of your whores.”

Robert’s face flushed red, and it was Jaime’s guess if that was from anger, embarrassment or the wine he was drinking earlier. Jaime had heard such rumors himself, and more scandalous ones, but he didn’t put stock in them. Plenty worse was said about himself. His green eyes went to the old man - based off Lord Arryn’s grave expression, he might have heard more. He might know the truth. Jaime felt a sudden surge of anger toward the king, not the first time he’d felt this. Cersei will have far worse to say to him when she hears about this

“I didn’t go that far,” Robert tried to regain his voice and authority. “Damn you, Stannis, I wouldn’t lay a hand on her! I can't even remember the blasted feast ... I woke up half-sick in my room.”

His strong tone began to falter as Robert tried to replay the night in his mind. It was clear he couldn't - as usual, wine had muddled his memories. No one in the room expected Stannis to take that as a valid excuse. "You did interfere, you just don't remember. You're always drinking too much, whoring too much --"

"I'm king and I'll do as I damn well please!" Robert said defensively. "There's no bloody law saying a king can't drink or touch a woman!"

"If the next one you touch is Y/N, I'll take care of you myself.”

Threats often lost their effect if you repeated them, but the words had a new menace with Stannis’ expression attached to them. His eyes could have been glaciers, and a chill settled upon the room as the three men remembered this is the man who often cut the hands of thieves and gelded rapists. He outlasted the Tyrell siege, and cut the fingers of the smuggler who helped him survive it. It was not that Stannis was a butcher, but he was fierce in what he thought was just, and he had the unyielding drive to see it done.

Lord Arryn was the first to break the cold spell that set upon them. He stepped forward, putting a hand gingerly on Stannis’ shoulder. The younger man didn’t flinch, but he didn’t look, either. Lord Arryn said with a low voice, “Let us speak outside, Lord Stannis. Please.”

The brothers stared each other down, and for the first time since knowing the King, Jaime watched him falter. His great shoulders sagged just slightly, and his eyebrows knit together. Robert wanted to say something, but finding the words was the problem. Jaime didn’t understand why until he finally spoke.

“Stannis, I… ... I don’t remember a thing, I swear it. I wouldn’t have done anything to your Y/N.”

The Kingslayer blinked. He’d never heard regret in Robert’s voice, and he wouldn’t hear it for some time. Lord Arryn was not surprised, only relieved.

Stannis was the implacable one. This didn’t satisfy him, not in the slightest. The oldest Baratheon had always done as he pleased, regardless of the consequences. He expected others to nod their heads and follow along, if they weren’t already encouraging him. So many did that, blind to the consequences Robert was dragging them into. This was just another slight he paid to his own brother, but Stannis felt this one especially hard. Of all the women in the Red Keep, Robert had to disrespect his -

No, it wasn’t right to refer to Y/N that way. She was not property, Stannis would never refer to her as that, nor should anyone. He was thinking of the other sense of the word, the other way to belong to someone. That way was far more binding than any marriage, and as illogical and senseless as it was, Stannis wanted it. This latest stint of Robert’s drunken foolishness made him realize if Y/N wanted anyone, she could have them. She was beautiful of course, but she had that wit, that intellect, that capacity to understand others and help them understand her. In the months they’d been married, he’d found himself relaxing in her presence, then being comforted by it, then actively wanting it. Desiring it.

Stannis bristled at the intrusive thoughts, but they were the truth. He hadn’t the slightest idea what she thought of him, if she was only performing and giving him the support expected of a wife, if she’d do this with any husband she’d been arranged to marry. He never had the nerve to ask. He couldn’t ask, fearing the answer.

Suddenly, he felt the old man’s hand squeeze his shoulder, and Stannis finally looked at Lord Arryn’s steady face. Calm as it was, his eyes were entreating Stannis to say something, or better, to leave it all behind. He realized he’d been silent for some time. They wanted him to forget all about it, like he should forget about Storm’s End and Dragonstone. Stannis grit his teeth, ignoring the shot of pain that went up his jaw. There was nothing he could say that would get through to his stubborn aurochs of an older brother.

“Just stay away from her,” He managed to say, his voice bouncing off the mostly empty chambers. He didn’t bother to say any more, or close the double doors as he left.

On any other day, Stannis made a point to walk carefully through the Red Keep. Unpopular as he was, his presence and reputation was still important to the throne. He and Robert were young, and usurpers, besides. They had to be careful. These Kingslanders were a nest of serpents, and there was no telling which was a viper and which was a garden snake.

But he couldn’t control the way his shoes echoed off the stone walls, or how he outright glared at any guard to get out of his way. He was still too thin, but there was no mistaking the anger in that tall body. He was taller than most of them, and he could appear as fierce as Robert when his temper finally rose.

Y/N. He had to see her, he had to talk to her. Gods, he should have as soon as he heard those disgusting rumors, but all he could think of was her and Robert, laughing, drinking, his arms around her - no, Stannis wouldn’t go there. Just the faintest imaginings hurt him more than he thought possible. He caught himself before he entered their shared apartment. He didn’t want to frighten Y/N by barging in, and he ought to collect himself. It wasn’t right to act like this in front of her.

Stannis took a deep breath and tried to unclench his jaw, like she always told him, but it was already aching. He rubbed at it absently and stepped inside, trying to steady his pounding heart.

It didn’t work. Y/N was sitting right there, relaxing on cushions at the large bay window. 

He’d noticed she liked sitting there, so he had several cushions brought in to make it more comfortable. Her long linen dress was spread across them, and he could clearly see the outline of her curled up legs. One of the straps of the dress was drooping off her shoulder. When Y/N looked up from her book, she adjusted the strap. She smiled at him, looking better than she had that night. “Are you already finished with the small council?”

Stannis just thought she was tired that evening, or she had drunk too much. Knowing the truth, the guilt hit him at once. Why hadn’t she said anything? What did she think he would do, or wouldn’t do? Did she not trust him?

Before any more intrusive thoughts could surface and hurt him even further, he blurted, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Y/N’s smile froze. “What are you talking about?” She asked.

“Robert. He interfered with you that night. You never told me.”

Stannis hadn’t meant it as an accusation, but as usual, he misspoke. Y/N’s face filled with anxiety, then fear. The book fell from her hands and slid to her lap.

“I-I … I wasn’t trying to hide anything, I just - he was drunk, so I thought it was best to forget…”

No, this wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want to frighten her like this. Stannis hated that expression on Y/N, one he’d never seen before, and one he caused. He crossed the room in a few steps, and his heart broke further when she leaned back.

“I talked to Robert,” He said, trying to explain, but that didn’t help. He may have made things worse. Damn it all, why couldn’t he talk to Y/N properly? Why did his chest have to seize and his senses have to leave? “I told him if he touches you again, I’ll remove his hands.”

“You didn’t!”

Stannis took her wrists and carefully, gently, trying to express something he couldn’t articulate. It was months of confusing thoughts and even more confusing feelings, and he was ruining it. What if she never smiled at him, or touched him again? What if she stayed afraid and wary?

“He’ll never touch you again, I swear it. I should have been there to protect you, and I wasn’t. I … I should have been with you, as a husband. I failed that.”

He moved his hands to her own, and as badly as he wanted to entwine their fingers, he didn’t think he deserved it. He always gave everything he had, he always put duty first, but it was only fitting he’d fail this one. He hadn’t the slightest idea how to handle women, how to talk to them or approach them, although Y/N was something else entirely. He was poor with people, he knew that, but this was his wife, and there was no excuse -

“Oh, Stannis,” Y/N said softly, that voice breaking him from his thoughts entirely. He looked at her painted lips, then her eyes, which had lost that fear. “Is that what you think?”

He wasn’t sure what she meant. “It’s the truth.”

“No, it isn’t. You didn’t fail anything.” Y/N wove their fingers together, squeezing his hands, and he thought his heart jumped into his throat from just that gesture. “You don’t control Robert. No one does. It’s just like him to do something like that, isn’t it?”

“But, I should have protected you -”

“By dueling him in front of everyone? Creating a scene at a feast?” Y/N asked, and before he could give a blunt answer she added, “He’s the king, Stannis, and we both know his… appetites. If it wasn’t me, it would’ve been some other girl, and … and it wasn’t so terrible as they all say…”

Stannis grit his teeth, tightening his grip on Y/N’s hands. “He shouldn’t, it’s unbecoming of a king, and besides that, it was still too much. Even a lecherous word is too much. You’re my -”

Mine.

“- my wife, and a lady of the Baratheon house.”

Y/N’s strap had fallen again, and her expressions still troubled, but he would take that over fear. Stannis reached out and fixed it, his fingers brushing across her warm skin. Y/N also reached out, but she pressed her thumb between his furrowed eyebrows. Stannis flinched back.

“Don’t wear that face,” She said softly. “I’ll be alright. I need time, and I’ll forget.”

“I won’t forget.”

“I know.” Y/N’s hand cradled his face, the same thumb stroking his cheek. Stannis releasing a hard breath. Just a simple touch and meeting her gaze was enough to bring the nerves back. He hated it, but he wouldn’t pull away, not even when Y/N kissed him. It was slow, and when she parted she said, “I know you would have protected me.”

He couldn’t meet her eyes anymore. Stannis glanced away. He noticed the strap had fallen again. “Y-You should have that fitted,” He said, fixing the offending thing. "It's too loose."

"Is it truly bothering you?”

"Yes."

Y/N giggled a little, and that was enough. He didn’t know how to make her laugh, so he was pleased when he did it by accident. She wiggled her shoulders so both straps slipped off, and with them, a little of her dress slipped down. “This fixes it, I think.”

Like she anticipated, Stannis' ears went red. He probably just realized that from his kneeling position, he was near eye level with her breasts. Pointedly trying to avoid looking was just making him more obvious.

Y/N squeezed his fingers and tugged Stannis forward. After a moment's hesitation, he shifted his position and sat on the cushions beside her. She wouldn't let go of his hand, so he leaned in, resting his head on her bare shoulder. Her skin was warm from sitting beside the window, and there was the distinct perfume she always wore. He could only smell it when he was this close, and it was oddly exciting, like a secret that only he knew. He listened to her faint pulse, how it matched with his breath as he rested on her shoulder. It reminded him of when they were intimate, when their chests were pressed together and their hearts beats were two separate sounds, trying to beat in tandem. She'd hold his hand then, like she did now.

That biting thought he had just minutes ago, that feeling of failure and confusion, was beginning to fade. It was difficult to feel like he'd done wrong when Y/N's fingers were trailing down his back. His tunic kept him from feeling them against his bare skin, but he knew that would change shortly. The anticipation of that spurred him on, pushing aside the last nagging anxieties.

While he kissed her neck, she sighed and curved her body against him, making him realize how cramped the bay window seat was. Y/N pulled on him again, and he followed her instruction. They ended up pressed against each other on the floor, lost in kisses and embraces. Y/N had lifted her leg up and let her dress fall down, and damned if his immediate reaction wasn’t stroking her bare thigh and squeezing it.

Y/N’s lips parted and she whined against him. “Stannis - wait, I meant to … I want to tell you something.”

“Hm?” He stopped his hand from trailing up any further. He felt like he had a fever, but fevers were never this pleasant.

“Did you - did you hear the talk about… Some of them were saying that I’m unhappy with you. That you bore me, or ignore me, or some such like that.”

Stannis frowned. He’d heard such things even before this mess, and didn’t understand why she brought it up. Y/N’s soft hands slid up his now wrinkled tunic and she gave him several light kisses as she continued, “I don’t ever want you to take those words to heart. You make me very happy, more than I ever thought I would be. I swear it, by your gods and mine.”

Her eyes were dazzling then, the sun from the window reflecting from them, and something else making them shine like stars. It was tears, he realized, though they didn’t fall to her cheeks. Stannis would’ve believed her without the swear, he’d believe her if she said even a fraction of those words, if those eyes shone even a little duller. She wrapped her arms around him, bringing their bodies even closer together, and gave him several breathless kisses.

The aching inside him was so strong, it was dizzying. When they parted from a longer kiss, Y/N asked, “Are you well?”

“No,” He said instantly, because he could swear he was having a heart attack. His chest was squeezing together like a giant was stepping on it, but it wasn’t … painful. “No, I am - I am well. And I am happy - with you, Y/N.” His words came out short, his mouth trying to keep up with the thoughts racing across his mind.

That seemed inadequate, but she smiled all the same. For the hundredth time he wondered if Y/N could read his thoughts. She leaned in for a kiss, and yelped in surprise as he swept her into his arms and stood up.

“Stannis! What are you -?”

“I’m not taking you on the bloody floor,” He muttered. The room had plush rugs and wood in lieu of rough stone and rushes, but it was still a floor, as far as he was concerned. “You deserve more than that. ...I want to give you more than that.”

“Oh?” Y/N grinned. She nuzzled his neck and kissed it, which only tightened his grip. “Show me how much you’ll give.”

She anticipated the flinch when she grasped his shoulders, and the quivering when she ran her hands down his bare back. When her arms wrapped across his torso and she pressed her cheek against his back, she could hear his heart thumping, like a dog's happy tail hitting the floor.

Y/N grinned at that, and softly giggled when Stannis tried to worm away. She understood it was nothing against her; he was antsy about too much affection, and she was certain the past hour was far beyond his limit.

One last kiss, then. She pressed her lips against the nap of his neck. "Are you needing something, my husband?"

"Tunic," Stannis mumbled. His pants were already on, but Y/N was shamelessly making the rest of the dressing difficult. His tall legs were swung over the bed, but Y/N was still clinging on, and he could feel every inch of her warm, naked embrace.

"Ah, yes, how forgetful of me." Y/N reached behind her, fetched the tunic from the mangle of sheets, and handed it to him. She promptly went back to her hug from behind.

Stannis grunted. "Y/N."

She was teasing too much, she knew. "Would you like some help? Those fasteners can be so tricky."

She just had to smile at the eye roll he gave her. It was times like this when Stannis acted his age: a young man in his twenties, with the dark circles under his eyes almost unnoticeable, and some flushed color on his skin. She hoped he was eating and sleeping better these days.

Y/N freed her prisoner and quietly watched him dress. Maybe another kind of man would stay in bed with her and laze the day away, but Stannis was not that sort, and she knew that. Personally, she wanted to stay in their apartments and avoid more social obligations. Her mind wandered to the rumors that surrounded them, that ugly reality breaking into this idyllic late afternoon.

At some point, Stannis had finished and was standing beside the bed. Y/N smiled and pulled on his hand, bringing him closer. Stannis only mildly resisted and asked again, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm well," Y/N replied. She entwined her fingers in his and kissed his palm. “Very well.”

Stannis flushed all over again. He hesitated, then leaned in and kissed his wife’s brow in return. “Whenever that isn’t the case, I want you to tell me.”

Looking down on her from that angle, with her hair splayed around her shoulders, the light from the window warming her skin and highlighting every curve. His throat felt dry, but he was pleased to hear her say, “I will.”

Stannis only nodded, but lingered like something was anchoring him. It was an uncomfortable ache that hit suddenly, even if he was ready to leave just minutes ago. He made it to the doorway, but glanced back. Y/N stood from the bed and swept one of her thin robes around her body. He could still see the outline of her legs and curves as she tied it tight. She glanced over her shoulder, strands of her hair falling from her shoulder to her back.

“You’re staring.” She teased. “Didn’t you have important work to do?”

There was always work to do, always some sort of duty to attend to. This was a duty in itself, keeping his wife happy and ensuring she was respected. He’d make sure those foul rumors were dispelled, one way or another. Still, it was strange for “duty” to be this … pleasant. This warm and safe. Stannis crossed the room to give her one last goodbye - a squeeze of the hand, and a promise to return - and he left.

[evarcana]

Courtiers + Christmas

Sorry, dear anon, it took me ages 😓 well at least I did it before xmas, right?

To avoid the whole discourse about why the bunch of demons and one morally corrupted human are celebrating Christmas, I should say that this is based on the MC inviting the courtiers to celebrate together.

Valdemar🎄😈

Not like they usually pay attention to silly human holidays. But if it is you inviting... “how delightful” - of course Valdemar is coming. The problem is that in their millennia of existence being busy with their research they sort of missed out on what Christmas was about. “MC, don’t give me that look, this is all fairly new”, you don’t even want to what is old for them. But it’s Valdemar so they lock themselves in dungeons and put all their inhuman determination into researching Christmas.

Valdemar’s research is ...advanced. After they excitingly start telling you whether you knew that red in decorations symbolises blood, you decide it’s time to intervene, hand Valdemar list of gifts to buy and encourage them to return to their usual work (who would believe you would ever say it).

They turn to the party/dinner dressed as Santa (or whatever equivalent). Are you shocked? Erm yes... But why are other guests loving it ?! Well they did become sort of xmas expert in less than a week so you guess it’s okay. Expects lots of stories on how Christmas celebrations developed over the last centuries.

Charms your grandma or elderly auntie by being the only person capable of listening about their chronical conditions and actually engaging on the topic. Your little niece/neighbour’s kid loves them too - they expertly removed all those bits of turkey leg they don’t like to eat in less than 5 seconds. Everybody loves them. But Valdemar still spends most of the time telling what a fascinating specimen you are.

When it comes to gift exchange part, you are glad that they only added a few medical books, plague masks and antiseptics to the list, could be worse.., but where is yours present? “You, my little silly duckling, are on the naughty list this year” with this Valdemar gently throws you in their sack grabs you and excuses you both from the party. You try to protest but they only say that they played along for long enough and now it’s their turn to play little game with you. Oh well you can leave early one year, it promises to be worth it.

Valerius 🎁🍷

Every year Valerius receives plenty of invitations to winter holidays parties arranged by the nobles but this is the first time he got invitation to something that personal. Tells you that he needs to check his diary and finally reluctantly agrees only because “there was a rather unfortunate cancellation”. But really in his head he is like “Omg does it mean that I am part of the family now? Cancel all plans NOW.”

Then he learns that you plan to have Christmas dinner/party at your place. The consul of Vesuvia to go to that ...shack?? That’s unthinkable: The party will be in his estate, yes he knows that it’s incredibly generous of him to offer and no you cannot refuse.

And this is when things are getting extra. You know that crazy neighbours competitions whose Christmas lights are brighter and decorations are better? That’s Valerius, although he has nobody to compete with really. The massive xmas tree got delivered from who-knows-where and who-knows-how in 2 days, and there is no red, golden or green decoration item left in stock in entire Vesuvia, oh and some the palace’s best cooks suddenly took a sick leave for a week (no it was Valerius promising them triple wages).

You ask Valerius not to get any expensive presents, otherwise you will feel bad, he did indeed agree that it was reasonable suugestion. Everybody gets presents more expensive than life. The guests surpringly find Valerius a very good host, this might have something to do with those gifts which were definitely extra or with the fact that everybody got merry in like 20 min thanks to all the fancy wine. Valerius is gossip central, argues about politics with your annoying uncle and plays board games with children.

Insists that it would be better if you stay overnight and not travel home late. Falls asleep in chair with drink in hand like an old man. Later that chair somehow migrates to the hallway by the guest bedroom, under the strategically placed mistletoe. Wait, where did red silky robes come from? All planned. Let’s hope that the unfortunate relative of yours is not staying in the same guestwing.

Vlastomil 🎅🏻 🪱

It’s lovely of you to invite him but he is a busy worm man and cannot really leave his children alone. Maybe he can just stop by? “No, MC! Don’t get offended!!”

Then he learns that Christmas is usually about family, does it mean that his children can come as well?? Ugh while you are mumbling something about that worms may not be very comfortable at your place, Vlastomil decides that the Christmas party will be held in his garden so the worms everybody can enjoy it.

Prepare to have a ...thematic Christmas. There is white xmas tree decorated with the shimmery worms and candy canes which have worms wrapped around them. Okay, even you are not the biggest fan of worms you have to admit that the ice sculptures of worms are quite impressive. He even has little nativity scene but with the worms.

Everybody receives crystal tree decoration baubles with live worms inside. Everybody is shocked. Vlastomil explains that it’s only stocking fillers and there are more gifts. (Also crystal baublesare only for transportation, the worms need to be free range, how dare you). The actual gifts are... amazing. Somebody got a scarf that they liked but didn’t have enough money to buy on that day, another person got a album of pin up pictures of snake women even if it was supposed to be a secret interest of theirs and you got that sparkly princess teara you cried for your parents to buy at age 5 but they never did (cmon, x years later, you still like it).

Some little child says that Vlastomil is like Santa with how you he magically read people’s wishes (there there, little one, it’s just the power of gossip), but Vlastomil is vibing: wiggler gets elf outfit from somewhere and you get lots of invitations to “come to sit on Santa’s lap”. Yes you can stay there after all the guests leave (and yes you can keep your sparkly teara on).

Volta 🍪🥛

Was secretly dreaming to be invited since at least October. But is still genuinely surprised when you ask her to come. She asks tonnes of questions: who else is coming, are you sure they would like Volta, what are you going to do, will there be food?

Volta wants to help you with all the preparations. Not like she is super useful but she did dig out from the piles of stuff in her estate and bring you lots of old tree decorations and some nice tableware. She basically spends all your time with you in the build up to Christmas: you decorate the house together, make gingerbread houses (well more like you made one house from the 1000s attempt, they all got eaten before they were actually completed) and pack gifts for everybody.

You warned all the guests that there going to be lots of food this year, and no you finally don’t need to worry about what to do with the leftovers and crying “end me, I am sick of having xmas food for 10 days in a row” because they are not going to be any leftovers. But you didn’t expect Volta to turn up with even more food. “Volta does not want anybody to starve on Christmas!”. She surely eats lots but she is also looking after other people lots, passing them plates with food (just imagine her holding it with both of her tiny hands) and topping up their drinks, she wants everybody to enjoy the dinner.

Everybody at the table is talking of how adorable Volta is, and nobody can even hide tears when Volta presents little hand made gifts that she prepared herself. But Volta humming Christmas carols? How does she even know Christmas carols? This is illegal level of cuteness.

Volta wants to stay to help you to clean up when the dinner is over. It’s quite and it’s only two of you. Oh you might still have some sweet things in the cupboard.

Vulgora🔥🌟

At first super excited to be invited but the next second they ask what is Christmas about and what does it involve. You decorate, eat, chat to people and exchange gifts? That sounds awfully boring to Vulgora. Can they at least smash the tree in the end? What do you mean - NO?!?!

Eager to help too. They need to use their energy somewhere. You are not sure whether it’s the type of help you wanted. You asked them to carry the xmas tree from the market? There are 5 trees in front of the house, one of which is like is almost 10’ tall. You asked them to chop some wood for the fire? Well, there is enough to have a bonfire in the towncentre. But on the positive side, your house is lavishly decorated this year, Vulgora likes the red and golden theme.

Lots of battle stories at the dinner, some of which ...lack xmas spirit a bit. All the gifts are...war themed. Then Vulgora gets bored and wants to fight for the right to cut the turkey/ vegan nut roast, whatever you are having. Oh no. But they can smash nuts with their gauntlets - the guests are impressed and suddenly want more battle stories. On the positive side, it’s definitely not boring this year, Vulgora is load and energetic.

But then suddenly Vulgora suggests you all go outside, when you question them, they say it’s a surprise. It’s hard to believe what you see: they prepared fireworks and sparkle fountains !!! You cannot help but smile watching vulgora excitingly running around setting them all off (but hopefully not setting your house on fire).

You watch firework lighting up the sky with Vulgora hugging you from behind and then..they rugby tackle you to the ground?! Well whether there is snow or not, they want to have a fight. Luckily the fireworks are over and the guests can just...leave you two to it.

[prettywordsyouleft]

Peach and Pear

Pairing: Park Jinyoung x female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers / fluff

Warnings: none

A/N: So I woke up the other morning and wrote this story before getting up for the day. It’s set in a place here in New Zealand and I’m really proud of this little world I randomly created.

Word count: 2945

Once upon a time, there was a little peach that lost his way for the first time. The peach had always been a very successful fruit, doing many things each day to become one of the best peaches around. He was strong and healthy and he was full of talents. A lot of the other fruit admired him a great deal--

“Then why did he get lost?” a curious, high-pitched voice asked, and before you could continue with the story, someone else did for you.

“He woke up and realised he was tired of being successful because he did so much each day,” your husband Jinyoung answered, walking over to you and your daughter, who scooted out from under the blankets you had just tucked her under to reach out her little limbs towards her father. Sitting down on the opposite side of the bed from you, Jinyoung pulled her into his arms, planting a kiss on the top of her crown affectionately.

“You know this story too, Daddy?!”

“Oh yes,” he replied, shooting you a look. “Who do you think told Mummy about it?”

“I want to hear what the peach did next!” she exclaimed and you cleared your throat to continue the story.

Jinyoung laid there, unmoving, as the alarm continued to shrill around the room. Normally he would turn it off and roll back over, knowing he had a second one set for when he truly had to be out of his bed. Yet, when that one sounded as well after the first one had gone on for too long and given up, he still didn’t rush out from under the blankets.

For the first time in a long while, he felt unmotivated.

He had business meetings and English lessons to attend today. Not to mention, his daily swimming practice was waiting for him to start the day. He would then head into the office, working until six precisely, where he would go out for dinner with a client who was investing more into his company. Afterwards, he was expected to hit up the gym for leg day, and finally wind up back here, finalising any paperwork before reading another chapter in a self-improvement book and go to bed by eleven.

And then the day would repeat, usually with some variation to the workday, but still with the continued structure that he expected from himself each day.

Today, however, he didn’t care for any of it.

Jinyoung wanted a break. He couldn’t remember the last time he didn’t follow the same continuous pattern that all around him had come to rely on. He was too predictable now, twenty-six and thriving as a businessman, successful enough to have his name in the tabloids often as a measure that many others in the industry strived to match. No one had expected the handsome man to create such a storm at his age, let alone at all. Yet the proof was in the pudding, or in Jinyoung’s case, his relentless endeavour to create a stable and solid life plan for him and his company.

Whilst he had worked tirelessly on building the foundation of his business, his university pals were off taking in the world. Mark had gone snowboarding at every well-known skiing resort, and Jackson was in America promoting Team Wang whilst collaborating with top names on every country’s celebrity list. Jaebum had travelled to Europe to learn more about the way music was produced there and BamBam was never in the same continent for too long, having fun being young and rich. Even Youngjae and Yugyeom had found themselves leaving this place to find better horizons. Only Jinyoung had stayed.

He wasn’t bitter that he had chosen to, but it did mean his youth was spent grinding each day and not truly lived. As he laid in his bed, still uncaring that the second alarm had come and gone, he realised he craved reaching out for what he had missed out on. He wanted to explore a foreign place and do so without much planning.

He was usually the research and implement type of guy, but today, he simply packed a small suitcase with the necessities for travel and climbed into his car, heading towards the airport.

With passport in hand, he watched the departure board for one of the places to stand out to him. Many flights were heading out within the next couple of hours, though there was one about to leave in forty minutes. Striding towards a desk, he smiled at the clerk and asked to buy a ticket to that destination.

“Sir, are you sure?” she asked, slightly perplexed by the sudden passenger request. Jinyoung nodded and she cringed. “There’s no business class left and it will take-”

“I’ll take it,” he confirmed, sliding his credit card across the tabletop towards her.

And that was how Jinyoung found himself in the back row of a twelve-hour plane ride to New Zealand.

“Wow!” exclaimed your daughter, eyes round with the adventure. “The little peach travelled all the way here! Did he make any friends?”

“Well,” you said, glancing at your husband before nodding once. “He turned up unexpectedly and asked to stay at a pear’s broken down bed and breakfast.”

“Which was basically in the middle of nowhere,” Jinyoung added on with a smile, glancing over at you fondly. “And it didn’t have any central heating.”

“That was because the pear herself hadn’t quite found out how to fix that problem, and the peach had chosen to get on a plane without checking that New Zealand was in the middle of winter.”

Jinyoung laughed, placing his daughter back under the blankets before continuing the story.

You blinked at the man standing upon your porch, shivering in his thin coat, the snow that was falling outside having covered his dark hair. And when you realised you weren’t hallucinating, you gasped, jerking open the old door across the wooden floors and stepped aside.

The foreign man dove inside out of the howling wind, and you shut it out with some effort in closing the door before stepping in front of him.

“How did you… I mean, it’s freezing out and you’re barely layered up. Please, follow me to the fireplace, you need to warm up.”

Once he was positioned as close to the fire as he could get, the man unravelled his arms around his waist and outstretched them towards the embers to thaw out. You left him there and dashed down to the kitchen, flicked on the jug and waited for it to boil.

Just who was this strange man? And how had he stumbled across your place at this time of night?

When your uncle died earlier in the year, his estate had been left to you. Your father, and his brother, had passed away some years prior and since your parents had been separated, what your uncle owned had been rightfully designated as yours.

“An inn?!” you echoed the words the lawyer had just read out, sitting up further in your chair. “My estranged uncle owned an inn?!”

“I wouldn’t be too excited, the place hasn’t had any guests in years,” the lawyer remarked, but you were already looking at the photos of the charming building, imagining what a bit of paint and gardening could do for the place.

So that’s how you wound up leaving the city life for the small township in the Buller district that had less than 1000 people living there. And, it was definitely going to take more than paint and some gardening to fix this place.

“You’re as crazy as your uncle was for trying to do up that house,” Katie, the owner of the only tearooms in Reefton, mentioned when you came in for lunch earlier in the day. “It’s got more problems than the number of people living here.”

You smiled grimly. “You don’t need to remind me.”

“Why not sell it and go back to where you came from, Y/N? The land would be worth some. I’m sure a farmer around here would happily bulldoze down that eyesore of a home and run his sheep or cattle over it just fine. In fact, I think Bill was-”

Imagining the crumbling building no longer existing didn’t make you feel any better. Glancing up at Katie, you shook your head. “It’s Reefton Estate. You can’t just go tearing down history like that.”

“There’s history, Y/N and then there’s money traps. Sure, in its heyday that place must have been spectacular and full of guests all the time with the gold rush and all. But this isn’t the eighteen hundreds. There’s only the novelty of finding gold at Shanty Town if you’re a tourist these days.”

“I don’t need gold, and I can’t just sell up.”

So you got stuck in with what you could do. You hired a contractor from Greymouth to come and look at your home, and with an extremely long list of projects thereafter, you started tackling them one by one. The place was liveable, but it still had a long way to go to be back to its former glory.

And you certainly were slower than most, being a one-woman team, with a trickle of funds available. As a joke, you placed an advert up online looking for volunteers to help lovingly restore the estate.

Of course, no one had come, until now.

Handing the stranger a mug of tea, you sat down beside him and smiled gently. “Did you mean to come here?”

“It’s a long story,” he said, smiling weakly. “I’m Jinyoung and you are?”

“Y/N,” you replied, holding out your hand in greeting. He took it, and your eyes nearly popped out of your head with how cold he still was. Rubbing it repeatedly, you tried to warm him up until Jinyoung gripped at your wrist and eyed you warily.

You balked and let him go. “Sorry, it’s just that you’re so cold. Not many people venture out at night around here without thermals on.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he mentioned with a soft smile, nodding once. “Thank you for the tea.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

Before the night wore out, Jinyoung had told you of his rash plan. He had left Korea and come to New Zealand on a whim, and again, chose his next destination in the same way as he had his last.

You gasped. “Of all the places to choose in New  Zealand, you ended up in Greymouth?!”

“To be fair, I wasn’t really aware. I thought it would be bigger and have more people,” he admitted and you laughed.

“The coast has people; just they tend to know each other. Oh boy. It won’t be long until word spreads about you coming here either.”

“How will that happen when it’s just us two here?” Jinyoung asked and you sighed.

You didn’t want to have to explain it tonight. When you had arrived from Christchurch, it was as if you had a giant beacon on your head that every resident of Reefton could see from their homes. You had been inundated with visitors both very friendly and extremely nosy for an entire week before you felt that you had met almost everyone. And although you got used to the gossiping nature of the place, you still didn’t quite like it either.

You somehow felt protective of Jinyoung. Besides, when the light arrived in the morning, you were certain he would climb into his hired vehicle and continue on his sightseeing ways.

However, you found him merely staring at your entryway, aghast.

“Morning,” you called and he whipped around, trying to wipe the perturbed look off his face. Clearing his throat, you shook your head to stop him. “I know, it needs a lot of attention.”

“Only one fireplace works, the rooms are freezing even with the space heater you gave me and you have a hole in the ceiling above me.”

“There’s also the west wing that has two inaccessible rooms, one of the bathrooms upstairs is blocked and there’s no way anyone will be able to stay here in the next few years to produce any revenue,” you added on with a smile, handing Jinyoung the coffee you had made him. He thanked you silently, before allowing his gaze to travel up the walls again. “It would probably make nice firewood to some farmer who tore it down for the land to run his animals over-”

“It has charm,” Jinyoung said then, cutting you off. You merely stared at him, wondering who he really was. He was the only person you had met since inheriting this place that had said those words to you. “It has a lot of potential to become something amazing, after a lot of work, of course.”

“I think so too.”

“Do you have the blueprints at all?” he asked and you cocked your head to the side.

“Thought you were sightseeing?”

“Well, there certainly seems to be a lot to look at just within this house, don’t you think?”

Jinyoung said he would stay for two weeks, helping you with projects that could be started with a bit of manual labour. Two weeks turned into a month, with trips to Greymouth for further supplies. And after then, you stopped asking when he was going to go back to Korea and his company. Part of you didn’t want to know the answer, having grown attached to the man. He was more playful than you had expected, and you spent most of your days laughing and soon your nights curled up together in front of the fireplace.

Of course, the gossip mill ran wild. Jinyoung didn’t care, and after three months, he even held your hand as you walked downtown, allowing the nosy store owners to pick up their phones and ring around that you had found yourself a man.

“Did the peach ever return home?”

“He did, three times,” Jinyoung stated, holding up the right amount of fingers before counting them down as he spoke. “First, because he felt he had to go. But he had found he could run his company from New Zealand with relative success.”

“Especially once he invested in better internet connection at the inn,” you interjected with a knowing look and Jinyoung rolled his eyes before dropping another finger.

“He came back here because he couldn’t stop thinking about the house and worried that pear would end up hurting herself badly. Which, had he not gotten on that plane and walked through the door when he did, pear would have fallen off a ladder onto the ground.”

“Instead she fell on top of the peach,” you said with a laugh and Jinyoung nodded.

“And the third time he went back was to finalise the sale of his company and bring his parents back with him.”

Your daughter sat up eagerly again. “Why did his parents come?! Did he miss them?!”

“Of course. But there was another reason too,” Jinyoung said, glancing at you and reaching out for your hand. You took it and he rubbed the set of rings that lay over your left finger. “The peach and pear got married.”

“Wait a minute!” your daughter breathed, pointing at her father and then you repeatedly before clapping and squealing. “That’s you and Mummy!”

“And now we live in Reefton Estate together, don’t we?” you told her, and her little head bounced up and down.

“Which thankfully has heating.”

“And no more holes in the ceilings.”

“The west wing can be rented out to staying guests.”

“And the peach and pear lived happily ever after.”

“With their own little peachy-pear!” cried your daughter to end the story, which had you all laughing, hugging the sweet child.

And once she had finally drifted off to sleep, you stepped out into the hallway on tiptoes, trying not to make the floorboards creak and wake her back up.

Of course, the house had been repaired. But it still carried most of its original parts, and definitely needed more work. The floors were next on the list to replace.

For now, tiptoeing back to your room down the hall was the best option you had. And when Jinyoung shut the door behind you, he pulled you into his arms, resting his head on your shoulder. You leaned back into him, cherishing the moment.

Mostly for his warmth, and he knew it.

“We need to work on the heating in our room.”

“It made sense to do the guest rooms at the time so we could make money,” you reminded, spinning around softly so you could face him. “Besides, I remember you saying at the time that we had each other to keep warm with.”

“That’s how peachy-pear came along,” he pointed out with a low chuckle and you slapped his shoulder playfully.

“We should get that heating sorted quickly then in case we end up growing more fruit,” you teased but Jinyoung shook his head in answer, leaning down to capture your lips briefly.

“I don’t mind growing more fruit with you.”

“Uh-huh.”

“It’s one way to keep us both warm, too.”

“Why did you turn up on my doorstep all those years ago?” you breathed out, staring at your husband lovingly. You still couldn��t quite believe your luck.

As if he read your mind, Jinyoung smiled. “It wasn’t luck that brought me here. It was a need to find my forever home.”

“You chose well in a broken-down inn,” you retorted, to which he chuckled again.

“It has its charm,” he said before nuzzling his nose into yours. “And it has you.”

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