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[ssplague]

Benighted Beloved

Prologue

Dragon King Bakugou x Reader

Haven’t decided on the title yet, didn’t want to take even more time to get this out.

Warnings ⚠️ BRIEF Mentions of attempted assault, sex trafficking, & murder.

As the last of the moon’s ethereal, silver light disappears from the skies, a harsh wind begins to blow. This kingdom’s inhabitants are hidden away within the confines of their homes. The silence is daunting as the wind begins to howl through the previously bustling capital streets.

Within the dimly lit castle a woman stares through the her window before shutting the drapes tight.

The atmosphere within the fortress is riddled with tension; Murmurings of prayers can be heard from various servants pausing their duties as they move about. Her bosom heaves rapidly from panting breaths, she fights in vain. Stubborn to prevent the vision attempting to shine through, ignoring the now blurry edges of her eye sight. Ebony hair is sticking to her sweaty face, she’s only standing on shaky legs from leaning against the edge of her vanity table.The door of her bedroom swings open and immediately slams shut. A man has come to see her, he’s briskly crossing the room, before coming to a stop at her side.

“What ails you?” The tired man asks, helping the woman stand upright by allowing her to hold his arm. Continuing to assist, despite her uncoordinated shuffling to sit on her bed. “If you are to be given a prophetic message, why fight it? Her majesty wishes to know what you have seen”. The woman wraps her arms around her middle, sharp nails nicking at her flesh as she draws in a shaking breath, “This night is tainted by darkness, the goddess is unable to grant us her full protection while her light is repressed…if my body will hold out until the darkness recedes, perhaps tragedy will be prevented from falling upon our kingdom once again”. Light from the single lit candle casted half of her face in shadow. The oracle was ashen faced, her black bangs plastered against her forehead, droplets of sweat leaked down her face onto the floor as she rested her elbows on her knees, shaking hands massage her temples.

“You cannot alter fate Midnight, you are destroying yourself all for the sake of delaying a message you were chosen to deliver” Aizawa says with a heavy sigh, rubbing at his eyes “I know you continue to blame yourself for the death of King Masaru but even the queen herself told you that you were not at fault, you relayed the message, and it was something that simply couldnt be remedied..”.

A shuddering breath racks the oracle’s body and she begins falling forward, only for the exhausted man to catch her,

“Stop this! You are going to die!”.

Midnight knew she was on deaths door, her body would give out soon, unless she relents…

Once again the bedroom door opens silently, the snap of it shutting alerts the two occupants of a new comer entering the room.

“Do it for the sake of the child, if you wish to atone for the death of its father then guide it as it grows, inform the future leader on how to avoid whatever negativity may come beforehand, so that it can be properly dealt with” the stern but soft voice of Jeanist seems to have been able to break through the oracle’s stubbornness.

“Normally only one of you would need to be the scribe for this session…but I would prefer it if there were two perspectives on whatever I report, considering the situation…” requests Midnight as Aizawa allows Jeanist to help the frail woman sit up. Making one more request as the blonde man fluffs and rearranges the pillows behind her:

“Please light the ceremonial pouperie and hand me both selenite and tourmaline towers”.

At the beginning of her life Midnight had been gifted with the ability to predict small things such as who would win a foot race or what she would receive for her birthday. As a teen her visions changed into predicting who would find love and eventually how relationships would end. Life was not always kind to her, and once she reached her late teens she had been enslaved and forced into prostitution.

Luck had been on her side as an adult; One night as the ebony haired beauty made her way through town. She had come across a drunken man attempting to asssault a young woman. Her amethyst eyes catch the glint of an intact bottle neck laying discarded on the alleyway’s grime crusted cobblestones. Those muffled cries of the female being violated brought her back to when she herself had first been enslaved. Slinking up through the shadows in silence, the angry woman would later on be compared to a panther as she came flying out of the darkness. The brute didnt have a chance to fight back as loose shards of glass were shoved into his eyes, the jagged spikes of the bottle were repeatedly slashed and thrusted into his neck, face, and chest until the pig was unrecognizable.

The woman she had saved turned out to be the daughter of a duke, visiting from a completely different kingdom. “Please accompany me for my journey home, your bravery will bring you great favor with my family, im offering you a new life, a fresh start”. Once the dutches and duke had learned about the gift of sight their daughter’s savior possessed, it was only a matter of time before Midnight was called to advise the current king and queen of her new home.

The darker haired man uses the candle to light to light the bundle of herbs, the scents of sage, lavender, and jasmine fill the room quickly.

Both polished stone towers are pressed into her shaking hands, Each man stood at the oracle’s bed side with quills poised and ready. Only then does the ritual begin;

She always hated lowering the walls of protection that had been built around her psyche. It made her feel as though she were stripped naked, vunerable, about to have her dignity snatched away, and soul crushed. Of course those feeling were always what prelude a tainted and unfortunate vision. Her eyes buldge in their sockets as they widen, her plump lips fall open and an amplified emotionless version of her voice spews out the sacred information from her gaping maw.

In this realm,

a blessing descends,

a child of fate,

Whose power immense,

destined to determine

earth’s fate

Born beneath the moon's shadow,

a tale quite bizarre,

A beast hides within,

a spirit touched by mar.

Not at the outset,

but time's relentless flow,

Unveils a name in

history's annals to grow.

Victories numerous,

A heart encased in sin

With a chance encounter,

love's dance shall begin.

Strings of fate weave

a love, pure and oh so divine,

The dragon king seeking

a mate with whom his

Soul shall intertwine.

This love is true,

by impurity shunned,

Great Darkness out shone

by Celestial radiance

Who’s light could

Outshine the sun

Blessings abound

if the moon's grace prevails,

However her failure

unveils hate

as darkness assails.

The Earth shall quake in fright

silence descends in despair,

The dragon king ruthless,

his mate to ensnare.

Land soaked in blood,

tainted with gore

at that moment

T’will be decided

peace within this kingdom

will become a distant lore

Decay befalls living souls,

cursed evermore.

Oh how can one’s feelings

spin a tale so profound?

For only true love shall

Determine whether darkness

Or light shall abound?

In a wing located on the complete opposite side of the castle, a feminine shriek is permeated by the sharp wails of an infant.

“It’s a boy your majesty!” Exclaims a mid-wife who held the freshly delivered baby.

She is quick to clean off the continuously shrieking child, immediately swaddling him in a soft blanket. Queen Mitsuki held out her trembling hands to receive the bundle of joy. “He’s beautiful my lady, I’m sure the king is looking down from heaven with pride” stated one of the other servants as she took away the soiled linens. “Yes he is…my beautiful little boy…my precious Katsuki” the queen whispered, kissing the boy’s head. His tiny whisps of blonde hair tickled her face as she holds him close. A little fist slips out from the blankets, waving about as his wails grow louder. Another servant enters the room, her arms laden with fresh blankets and sheets, “The moonlight has returned!” She happily reports, setting down the bedding and drawing back the curtains some.

Soon as those first rays of the shining silver light landed on the baby, his shrieks cease instantly. Finally opening his small crimson eyes to stare up at his mother, a goofy smile appearing and soft cooing replaced his cries. Everyone in the castle seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as the dreaded eclipse had come to an end.

“My Katsuki, you’re going to grow into a strong, dependable man, eventually you’ll become the greatest king the world has ever seen…isn’t that right Masaru?” Mitsuki snuggled the baby, tears rolling down her cheeks. She wasn’t able to see the man standing beside the two of them, but Katsuki could. The spirit of his father placed its hand on his little head, and the baby began to giggle happily. “I cant do much in this form, but I’ll do whatever I can to help you make the right choice when the time comes…take care of your mother for me…I love you both so much”.

A/N: We’re starting a NEW series!

What did you think? Pay attention to that prophecy, any ideas on what it’s talking about?

[crowwritesaway]

Ivar the Boneless Loyal Friend, Raven V

“What attack are you planning to do?” Ivar asked her, shaking his head.

“Hmm…I was thinking of many different ways I could sneak into this neighboring King. He’s been causing some tension between the border of my hometown and his.” She said, twirling a knife.

Ivar stared at her. “And what are those ways. Do you feel like it is going to fail?” His blue eyes shinning.

She licked her lip. She locked eyes with him. “No, but you can never be too careful. I may have plan A, B, C, D..but who am I to know whether one of my men will backstab me.”

He nodded, gritting his teeth. “Now, I do trust them. But, I’ve been hearing some things.” She trailed off, but stopped talking when she saw his eyes.

“Ivar…” She put the knife beside his bed. She sat at the edge of the bed. She grasped his face with her hand. Ivar leaned into her hand. “Are you in pain?”

Ivar sighed. “I know.” She comforted him. “Would you like me to get someone?” He shook his head. “Do you want me to bring the remedy from last time?” He nodded.

She hugged him. “I’m here. I’ll come back quick.” She got up and ran out his room. Ivar balled up his fist. Stupid legs. Stupid pain. Ugh. I can’t be this weak. Not in front of her.

She swung her door open. She picked up the remedy from her dresser and ran back out.

“I’m back.” She announced her presence. “Alright, let’s get you set up.” He grumbled. She crossed her arms. “Ivar, come on.” She insisted, walking over to his side.

He removed his braces. She set the remedy down. She had it freshly made every morning. It was a mixture of herbs that helped alleviate his pain. It was grounded into a paste that could be massage on his body.

“Take off your shirt.” Ivar tilted his head, grinning. “Wipe that grin off. I’m gonna massage you.” She said, smiling at him.

She uncovered the container and set the cover aside.

She scooped some of the paste and massage his shoulders. He looked at his lap. He held back groans. He closed his eyes and felt the tension on his shoulder fade away.

She moved her way down his chest. Ivar felt good. He felt safe with her. This is what made her his Raven. She knew what he needed. Meanwhile, Esperanza only enraged him and didn’t even bother with comforting him.

“Lay down.” She fixed his pillow. “Don’t I have to take my pants off first?” “Ivar!” She scolded him. He laughed.

“It’s okay. You must’ve forgotten. I wonder why.” Ivar teased her. She scoffed, turning around. “Whatever.” She blushed, annoyed for a moment. “So, do I undress or..” “Yes! Do it before I do it myself!” She snapped. She held back a smile.

He threw his head back and laughed. He took off his pants and covered himself. He put his arms behind his head. “I’m ready.”

She turned around. “Why thank you, my king.” He stayed quiet. King. That’s what I want to be in her eyes. Powerful. Unstoppable. Merciful at her but merciless at everyone else.

She scooped another handful of the remedy and applied it on his legs. She gently rubbed it on his skin.

He stared at her. Had it been anyone else, he wouldn’t through his hatchet at them. But his Raven, no. His Raven knew all sides of him. Just like he knew her. She’s not the rest. She doesn’t look disgusted. She sees me.

“Alright, I’m done.” She walked over to closed the container. Ivar’s eyes followed her. “Take a nap. When you wake up, you’ll be rested and be able to conquer whatever you want.” She told him, grinning. “What were you going to tell me earlier? What did you hear?” Ivar asked, sitting up. Raven rolled her eyes as she remembered what someone had told her last week. “Apparently, my fathers mistress plans to convince my father to let her son take my position.” She gritted her teeth. “There’s rumors going around that she has two men that report anything I do and say at my men.” She balled up her fists. Her nails marking her skin. “She better pray that I don’t find any of her followers because if I do, then she will watch as I take them apart.” Ivar clicked his tongue. “She wants what she can’t have. She’ll have to go through me and that son of hers won’t step a foot here unless he wants to lose it.” Ivar said, his eyes filled with anger. “I’ll deal with it when it happens. For now, rest. I can��t cause any trouble if I don’t have my shadow with me.” Ivar smiled. She waved bye and left. He sat up and crossed his arms. As much as I care for her, Esperanza…she needs to be dealt with. She had done something unforgivable. Could Raven know, maybe she could tell me?

Stay around for more of Ivar the Boneless Loyal Friend, Raven

[drades-lair]

Lazy Day together

fandom: Helluvaboss

Pairings: Striker/OC

Rating: M for sexual content and swearing

Calus sat in the king-sized bed with one arm behind his head, legs crossed at his ankles, wearing nothing except his boxer briefs while reading a novel. Striker appeared in the doorway wearing only a pair of grey joggers, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face. Calus moved his gaze up to look at Striker over his novel before lowering his book to smile warmly at his mate. "What's up?" Calus asked casually. "Just admirin' the view," Striker responded simply. "Oh? Just...admiring?" Calus asked arching an eyebrow seductively, putting his book on the bedside table. "Might be considerin' somethin' more," Striker retorted. "Just...considering?" Calus pressed, uncrossing his legs, and resting his free hand on one thigh.

They both gave a chuckle as Calus tipped his head in a gesture for Striker to approach despite the pale imp already doing so. Striker started crawling up the bed till he was able to straddle Calus’s hips staring down at the Dracony who brought his hands to Striker’s hips with an approving hum. Calus massaged Striker’s hips occasionally slipping to the imp’s ass as Striker leaned down to capture Calus’s lips in a kiss, caressing his hands over the Dracony’s chest while lightly rocking against Calus’s crotch. Calus slipped his hands down the back of Striker’s sweatpants to firmly kneed his ass cheeks prompting Striker to deepen the kiss with a soft moan. Calus caressed a hand across Striker’s lower back then slid a finger directly down Striker’s crack to his hole, rimming it lazily causing Striker to lean forwards with more moans.

“Ugh…fuck…” Striker hissed out pulling from the kiss, hips casually thrusting to drag their covered cocks together.

“Humph, impatient as always, I see. Here,” Calus huffed with a smile, bringing the fingers of his hand up to Striker’s lips.

“I prefer eager,” Striker retorted with a smirk before accepting the fingers into his maw, sucking liberally while running his tongue between the digits.

“Same difference,” Calus retorted removing his fingers from Striker’s mouth.

Sliding his fingers back between Striker’s ass cheeks Calus continued to rim Striker, mouth exploring along the imp’s jawline and neck. Striker started to snarl irritably from impatience eliciting a chuckle from Calus.

“Turn around,” Calus instructed with a light smack to Striker’s ass.

“Ugh, fine,” Striker agreed obeying the instruction.

Straddling Calus’s chest Striker planted his palms on the Dracony’s stomach allowing his hips to lift easier. Calus wrapped his hands around Striker’s hips to pull him as close as possible, yanking down his pants then spreading the imps’ cheeks before swiping the flat of his long tongue along Striker’s hole. Striker clenched his hands into fists, eyes squeezing shut with a deep groan as Calus slipped his tongue into him making certain to wriggle it into all of his crevasses. Noting the prominent bulge in Calus’s underwear Striker reached down to free the Dracony from the tight fabric, he wasn’t fully hard yet nor had his knot emerged yet thus Striker decided to remedy that by wrapping his hand around the center of Calus’ thick shaft, stroking liberally promptly eliciting a moan from Calus that reverberated against Striker’s insides. Leaning down closer Striker swiped his tongue against Calus’s tip resulting in the Dracony tightening his hands on the imp’s hips, growling lightly when Striker wrapped his mouth around his cock head. Calus pulled his tongue from Striker with a breathy ‘fuck’ then reached over to the bedside table to grab the lube from the drawer while Striker continued to suck on the head of Calus’s cock, using his hand to stroke the shaft simultaneously. Calus slicked up two fingers then used his free hand to part Striker’s cheeks again, inserting one of the lubed digits to the second knuckle instantly eliciting a long moan from the imp. Calus alternated his free hand between kneading Striker’s ass, caressing his thighs and reaching between his legs to stroke his cock causing the imp to start rocking his hips in search of more friction.

“Ah! Fuck!” Striker exclaimed pulling off Calus’s cock as the Dracony inserted a third finger.

“I think your good. How you wanna do this?” Calus inquired pulling his fingers free of Striker’s ass.

“I’ll…cowgirl it,” Striker panted out, looking over his shoulder at Calus.

“Okay, here, I’ll help get your pants off,” Calus stated, yanking Striker’s sweatpants down till they could manage to remove them. Striker yanked Calus’s underwear off after he was relieved of his pants allowing them to both move more freely. Striker turned around to straddle Calus’s hips again, one palm flat on Calus’s stomach while he used his other hand to guide Calus’s cock to his entrance. Calus gently held Striker’s hips till he was ready then followed the imps movements downwards, groaning as his cock started to slide inside Striker’s tight heat. Striker stopped at Calus’s knot, leaning forwards slightly with panting breaths as he waited to adjust.

“Are you alright?” Calus asked in a gentle yet slightly breathy tone.

“Yes,” Striker assured Calus, but no matter how many times they did this it never got easier to take the Dracony’s girth.

Calus waited patiently as Striker adjusted, caressing lightly along the imp’s thighs to his hips occasionally stroking Striker’s shaft to distract him, shifting his spines outwards then back down. Striker rolled his hips experimentally to see how his body would react, satisfied with the feeling Striker started setting up a rhythm with Calus countering his thrusts. Striker could ride pretty good however due to their unusual size difference it did result in him fatiguing quicker and Striker being well…himself, usually tried to ignore this fact luckily Calus was always incredibly vigilant. Striker started to pant heavily and his arms began to shake from fatigue.

“Hey, easy…here, come here,” Calus encouraged gently tipping Striker’s hips upwards causing the imp to lean further forwards till he was laying on Calus’s chest. Calus nuzzled Striker’s temple with a reverberating growl from deep in his throat as he held Striker’s hips in place.

“Let me take care of you,” Calus insisted as he started thrusting up into Striker making the imp groan loudly. Striker’s hands clutched at Calus’ shoulders as each thrust in this position went as deep as he could take, leaning up to claim a sloppy aggressive kiss.

“Ugh…Calus, I’m gonna, I’m gonna cum,” Striker growled out parting from the kiss.

“Good…cum Striker,” Calus panted out feeling his own orgasm approaching.

Moments later Striker released with a moaning cry, body stiffening and clenching around Calus making the Dracony groan as he pushed in to start deeply grinding. Calus let out a deep growl as he orgasmed, spilling cum into Striker who let out a light moan at the feeling of hot cum coating his insides. Gingerly pulling out Calus flipped one arm behind his head while the other gently moved up to caress along Striker’s spine as they both lay trying to catch their breaths. Striker let out a satisfied hum as he began to fall asleep on Calus’s chest, the Dracony lightly nuzzling Striker’s hair till they both eventually fell asleep.  

[mrslittletall]

Alt 1 for my boy Lurien!

Title: Home-Made Remedy Fandom: Hollow Knight Characters: Lurien the Watcher, Lurien's Butler Word Count: 697 AO3-Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33913057

Summary: Lurien isn't feeling too well, so his butler makes sure the is taken care of.

(Author's note: For this prompt, I just wanted to write a short scene and I think I succeeded. My Lurien is a dragonfly under the cloak, I actually thought long about it, but decided to go with it, also to counter the many (awesome) butterfly Luriens around.)

Alternative 1: Warm Soup @sicktember

Lurien wasn’t feeling well today.

Of course he had ignored it at first. He just had started his work like usual, he had watched over the city and wrote down anything that was worth reporting as well as taking care of all the infrastructural works. The king had assigned him as the watcher. He would do his job each and every day without fail. He could not disappoint the king.

After he had coughed and sneezed his way through three letters though, Lucien, his butler, had stepped up and gently coaxed him into bed. That was where Lurien was resting right now. He even had to remove his cloak and mask. At least Lucien knew how he looked like, so he didn’t mind it as much.

Lurien was a dragonfly, a species that was very rarely seen in Hallownest. He always was insecure about his appearance, fearing that people would flock around him wanting to see his dazzling wings or his long tail.

Lucien had never questioned his looks. The first time he had seen Lurien without his cloak, he had just taken it without saying anything. It had never been a topic between them and Lurien was grateful for it.

Lurien’s bedroom was in a hidden chamber of the spire. He preferred to be in private when he wasn’t wearing his cloak and mask. He also liked the peace and quiet there and he could look at the personal paintings he had decorated it with.

A lot of them were of the king…

Lurien told himself that he just was a great motive to paint, but as he laid in his bed, with nothing to do but to think, he asked himself if that was really the only reason…

His thoughts were interrupted by a violent coughing fit. He must have managed to get a rather bad cold. With a sigh he laid back into his pillows, massaging his sore throat. It was a good thing he didn’t have any appointments today, because talking would have been out of the question in the meantime.

Lucien would have cancelled them anyway.

Speaking of Lucien, where was he? His butler normally popped around every few minutes when he was sick to ask if he needed something. This time, he had just vanished once he had made sure that Lurien went into bed.

It made Lurien feel a tiny bit lonely. Not much, of course, he was used to be alone, he preferred to be alone, but…

He had to admit, he got used to Lucien being present and had started to enjoy the time he spent with his butler. He wasn’t only his butler, but also his friend.

“Sir?”, Lurien perked up when he heard this voice and instantly knew why he had been absent. He was holding a bowl and judging from the looks of it, it was filled with a steaming hot soup.

“I made you some warm soup because your voice sounded very strained. Nothing better than a home-made remedy to rectify this.”

“Thank you, Lucien.”, Lurien murmured, feeling touched about Lucien thinking so much about him.

“ It’s still hot though, so maybe wait a minute or two before eating.”, Lucien carried the soup to Lurien’s night stand and put it there, leaving a spoon. Then, he turned around to leave. Before he could even cross half of the room though, Lurien called out to him.

“Lucien, please wait.”

Lucien turned around to face him. “Yes, sir? Is there anything else you need?”

“Would you.. please stay and accompany me while I eat?”, Lurien said.

If there was a slight smile on Lucien’s face he hid it behind a mask of professionality right away.

“Of course, sir.”, Lucien returned and sat down on a pillow next to Lurien’s bed.

Lurien took the soup and stirred it a bit with the spoon, then tasted it. Instantly, his sore throat felt soothed and warmed. He could taste the carefully selected herbs as well as the long-winded prepared broth and it certainly felt like home to him...

“It’s wonderful, Lucien.”, he said. “Thank you for always taking care of me.”

(Author's note: This was the sixth fill for the Sicktember fics. How did you like them so far? I hope you continue to enjoy them ^^)

[imnotevenhere9]

If you're still doing Matchups, could I please get one for Lotr and The Hobbit please? Thanks so much!

🌱 She/They Nonbinary // Bisexual // Autistic and Chronically Ill with a bonus Anxiety Disorder // 18 years old at the moment

🌱 I know a lot of Home Remedies and Superstitions for like no reason. For instance, did you know that Raspberry Tea helps with Menstrual Pain, or that knocking on wood invokes the protection of the tree spirit and that’s why it’s said to give you luck? I don’t know why I know that, but I do.

🌱 Winning a fight is on my bucket list, but it has to be for a good reason. I’m not one to just pick fights for the sake of fighting, and I’m actually pretty conflict-averse, so I need to actually have a solid reason for throwing hands. But I’ve always wanted to do it for some reason.

🌱 I often get the inexplicable urge to bake something, so my loved ones just kinda end up with surprise brownies and zucchini bread at random. This habit has only worsened over Quarantine, of course.

🌱 I really like studying Witchcraft for some reason. The first spell I ever performed was a Healing Spell to help my friend who was sick with Crohn's Disease. Thirty minutes after performing the ritual, I got a text saying he felt a lot better and he was released from the hospital a couple days later, so I guess it must’ve worked. 😁

🌱 My love language is definitely gift giving. I’m pretty cheap, but I’m also an artist, so when push comes to shove I’ll just make something for someone when I like them. I pay very close attention to what people like because it gives me more ideas on how to interact with them. I’m essentially a large, flightless Crow. You were nice, so you get something shiny. But though I like giving gifts to others, I’m not very materialistic at all. I prefer to be practical when it comes to things, and I get very nervous when spending money.

🌱 I LOVE going outside and getting messy. Playing in the mud, getting soaked in the rain, I’m the type to go outside and come back home covered in dirt and twigs. It’s just really fun to me.

🌱My Dad’s a really good cook and I seem to have inherited that gene. He actually has me make dinner whenever we’re having eggs because I always cook them better than he does.

🌱 I’ve always wanted to be a really good gardener. My dream house is just covered in flowers and plants and such. I want to live in a Greenhouse, basically.

🌱 I have a habit of giggling to myself just by remembering something funny that happened, even if it was a couple years ago. I also laugh when I do something stupid, because I find my flaws and shortcomings funny for the most part. I love to laugh with people, but never at them.

🌱 You know the sort of “Girl Next Door” trope? That’s my type. Like the guy in the dorm just down the hall, or the girl in my neighborhood who I casually flirt with. I’m a sucker for cute little interactions like that, so it’s not too much of a surprise that I always fall for people like that. I never forget people I meet on the road, and often find myself hoping to meet up with them again someday.

🌱 I know way too much about Spirits and Fae. My favorite book is called ‘The Encyclopedia of Spirits’ and it shows you how to contact and interact with a ton of different deities and spirits, and I’m addicted to reading it. It’s the best.

🌱 I’m basically like a tiny, less-impressive Aragorn. I love travelling on foot, getting messy outside, I was kind of a Horse Girl as a kid ngl, I’ve always wanted to be a knight or king of some sort, chances are that I haven’t bathed in awhile, and I too would pine for a hot elf girl for literal years on end.

🌱 I always have to have some sort of weight on me to feel comfortable, because of my Autism. That usually takes the form of a large backpack stuffed with books and snacks, or a big jacket. However, my muscles are always pretty stiff and achy, so that does kinda backfire too.

🌱My closest friends say I give off “Dwobbit” vibes. That’s a ½ Dwarf and ½ Hobbit btw. I’m around 4’ 10” tall, I don’t shave, I love crafting and art, I live in the Mountains, I’m tomboyish but I also love gardening and can be a bit of a homebody, I love going barefoot, etc.

🌱 I really love History, Folklore, Mythology and Fairy Tales. My favorite is the Irish myth of Oisín in Tir Na Nog. Look it up if you don’t know it, it’s a fantastic story. But I also appreciate myths from all sorts of different cultures, like the myth of Annapurna in India or the tale of Princess Kaguya in Japan. Did you know that in Mesopotamian Mythology, Nonbinary People were said to be given the gift of prophecy and magic by the goddess Ishtar? And that a recurring figure in Slavic Folklore is the Snake King, who’s just a big ol’ snake with a doofy looking crown? I love it.

🌱 I’m an Aquarius, INFP and 4w5 if that means anything. For reference, characters who are also 4w5 INFPs include Lydia Deetz (Beetlejuice), Wirt (Otgw), Frankenstein’s Monster, Luna Lovegood (HP), Napstablook (Undertale), The Phantom of the Opera, and Celeste from Animal Crossing. That kinda tells you a lot about me, doesn’t it?

🌱 I’ve been growing my hair out, so it’s getting pretty long too. It’s always messy, and I both use a lot of conditioner and it naturally curls when wet, so I basically end up having a very fluffy mane with a lot of stray hairs and weird curls. Also, fun fact, I never learned how to braid because I’ve only really made friends with boys and I have very poor hand-eye coordination when it comes to such things. And my hair is so thin and fluffy that it’s impossible to tame anyways, so the best I can do is put it in a ponytail, since I’m basically incapable of doing anything fancier than that. When worst comes to worse, I have plenty of hats though.

🌱 I have really pale skin that’s always covered in moles, freckles (especially on my arms) and lots of scabs. It’s also getting warmer out, so chances are that I have a farmer’s tan. I have blue eyes and glasses.

🌱 I have a habit of seeing shadows move out of the corners of my eyes, frequently mistaking them for people or animals, but when I turn to look there’s nothing there. I’ve gotten my eyesight checked multiple times, but there’s nothing out of the ordinary, so it’s either a lack of sleep, or the Fae are getting antsy with me. Probably the former of course, but part of me would like to believe the

Oof, sorry that description was so long! I really hope you don't mind. Thanks so much in advance!!

A/n: I made it really wholesome (at least in my eyes), so I hope you like it! ^_^

Masterlist • Prompts • S/o match ups • Taglist

S/o from The Hobbit: Kili! 

will take your hands and kiss all the moles and freckles when you two are alone

listens to you talking about Fairy Tales while hugging you from behind and plays with your hair

likes to fall asleep with you on his chest, so he can plent small kisses on your head

loves everything you bake, it doesn’t matter if he heard of it or not, he always gets so excited to try what you baked

gives the best massages. He will prepare a bubble bath, help you stretch, whatever makes your achy muscles hurt less

small peaks behind your shoulder when you're

S/o from LOTR: Arwen!

adores your hair. Like literally. She loves to braid them, brush them, run her fingers through them, basically everything you can think of

please share everything you know and learnes about Home Remedies and Superstitions. She loves listening to you talk, it doesn't matter if she already knows all of it, she just wants to listen to you talk about it

your random giggles? In her eyes the cutest thing ever. Just hearing you giggling brightens her day so much

will probably go outside and get messy with you, because she loves to see you happy

gets shy when you give her gifts, she loves them all so much tho

will get you different books about Witchcraft, so you can learn and practice more!

[justasparkwritings]

The Word of Your Body: Holy {4}

Previous: You’re Gonna Be My Bruise

Pairing: Namjoon X Reader

Genre: Slice of Life

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Swearing, Pregnancy, Fatherhood, Questioning Religion 

Listening: Holy by Justin Bieber 

Master List

      Namjoon didn’t believe in God, or god, or Him. He didn’t believe in a higher being, a power that created and decided the fate of all peoples. There was no Buddha, Allah, Brahma or Vishnu. No shabbat or Holi or Ramadan. He didn’t believe in any of it. Army was King and Queen, Empress over his fate and his life. He didn’t feel anything around Easter or Christmas, there was no desire to bow his head and pray over a tragedy. He didn’t feel guilty for every sin committed, or anytime an “oh my god!” crossed his lips. He didn’t feel like there was anything moving his life forward except for BTS and you.

        When he had asked you to marry him, he felt an inkling of what prayer was. There was nothing he wanted more than to marry you, to create a family, to live his days intertwined with yours. He was positive you were going to say yes, but he found himself wishing and hoping for your answer amidst the ten seconds it took before you responded. He didn’t realize it was prayer, nor did he think his hope that you would say yes would be constituted as a form of worship. But on bended knee, in the few seconds before you answered, he offered it up.  

        Your resounding yes sounded like an alleluia on Easter morning, a sensation he had experienced with you a year prior. He didn’t understand it, but he felt it.

        “I don’t understand why you participate in it,” He said, drinking his coffee at your favorite local breakfast spot the day after his first Easter service. The two of you had come to your home to spend the holiday with your family, which meant showing him where you grew up and yes, bringing him to church.

        “Why?” You asked, sipping your coffee.

        “It, it doesn’t make sense, why would you believe in something that’s so, cynical?” He wondered.

        “The religion you’re speaking of and the religion I subscribe to are two different things,” You said.

        “How?”

        “Because the religion your speaking of is God as a vengeful, omniscient dictator, demanding sacrifices, demanding life, wanting fees and fines designed by man to prove your loyalty to capitalism, not to God. The God that I believe in, that I celebrate, is merciful. He fights for what is right and just, for equity, for love.”

        “Like Sailor Moon,” He smiled.

        “Without the talking cat,” You winked.

        He hadn’t understood what you meant until you’d given him a copy of your favorite book, which detailed the life of Jesus and his wife, Ana. It wove the notions of Jesus as savior with Jesus as man and expanded his understanding of what a savior could mean. It wasn’t that he suddenly believed in religion, or had faith, because he didn’t. Reading your favorite book had only made him fall more in love with you and made his understanding of religion murky at best. He did admit that he could see its place in your life and accept it for what it was.

        The second time Namjoon had prayed was when you took your last pregnancy test. Conceiving wasn’t easy, and he beat himself up every time a test came back negative. You tried to dissuade his fears, tell him that it took time, it wasn’t going to happen the first time you had unprotected sex. He knew he wanted kids; he knew he wanted kids with you. The inability to get you pregnant for two years, even with increased hormone treatments and meticulous care placed on both of your bodies, he felt like he was exhausting all options. Every choice he was making led to further disappointment when the test came back negative.

        Why couldn’t his body do the one thing it was designed to do? Was it the dancing in tight pants? Was it working out too much? Riding his bike too often? Why weren’t different positions, different times of day, number of orgasms leading to the creation of life that was half you, half him?

        He found himself scrolling through his phone, looking for any sort of solace when he came across a quote you had typed into his phone’s notes for when he felt nervous. You said it every time you had an interview or presentation, a Bible verse imprinted on you during adolescents. As he read the words, the idea of prayer came into his mind… he quickly looked up how to pray before closing his phone. Wasn’t the point that you didn’t need to have a formal way of asking God for help or guidance? Dejectedly, Namjoon bowed his head, closed his eyes and let the words flow out of him.

        Namjoon’s heart soared when you took your first positive test. It nearly erupted at your first sonogram. The thump-thump-thump of your child’s heartbeat had been like angels singing. You had created a life; you were going to have a child together. Maybe with his eyes and your nose, or your heart and his mind… Either way, he had heard a chorus echoing every time he saw your bump and felt your baby kick.

        He couldn’t reason with himself though, did he now owe God something because whomever it was had fulfilled his prayer? Would he have to baptize the baby, offer it up on an altar like Abraham or split it in two like Solomon? Was God holding a grudge against him now because he hadn’t exalted him fully?

        He had borne his soul to you shortly after your eighth month. His conscious was weighing heavy.

        “I need to tell you something,” He said, sitting next to you on the couch.

        “Okay,” You said, setting your phone face down on the coffee table. “What is it?”

        “I, I did something, and I don’t know what to do next,” He couldn’t tell if he was ashamed, nervous, or bashful. Would you laugh or be surprised or lovingly tell him it was okay?

        “What did you do?” You asked, cautiously.

        “I,” He sighed, “I prayed.” He glanced up at you through his lashes, gauging your response before proceeding.

        “Okay, and?”

        “What am I supposed to do now? Do I owe God something? Is our child a sacrifice?”

        “Well, what did you pray for?” You asked.

        “A baby.”

        “Namjoon, look at me,” You said lightly.

        “What?” He reluctantly lifted his gaze to lock with yours.

        “I did too,” You smiled.

        He felt the baptismal waters crash down on him.

        “You did? Oh, fuck. That, that makes me feel better. Do, do we have to do anything?” He reached for your hands as you laughed. Your baby kicking at the movement in your body.

        “We can say a prayer of thanksgiving, but that’s not really how God works.” You said.

        “I’ve read articles, and books, and the expectation that you offer something up to God in thanksgiving is everywhere. He grants a prayer and you give thanks. I’ve spent the past seven months trying to figure out what that thanksgiving is supposed to be.”

        “Namjoon, why is this bothering you? You don’t normally adhere to organized anything,” You said intertwining your fingers.

        He nodded his head before speaking. “I’ve never prayed about anything, but I needed solace, someone to listen. I was scared to tell you or the guys because I don’t believe in it, but I did it anyway.”

        “That’s what faith is. It’s throwing your hopes and fears up and believing someone will catch them. Be it fate, or karma… or God or Allah or Krishna… it’s hoping that something will move the chips in your favor, and knowing you’ll be okay if it doesn’t.” You answered, lightly squeezing his hand.

        “Do I owe anything?” He whispered.

        “No, that’s not how God works, at least in the evangelical sense. Just, be a great father, and an excellent husband, and your actions will show your thankfulness.” You said, moving his hand to rest on your belly, baby kicking excitedly as Namjoon’s hands held it gently.

        “That’s it?”

        “God doesn’t want for much, Namjoon.”

        He had spent the next six weeks studying books on organized religion, alternating between writing lyrics for BTS, unpacking the idea of GOD, and preparing for the baby. He read every parenting book, went to every class and watched birth video after birth video. He took to your body like the gentiles took to John the Baptist, following its every inkling, tending to it with care. He prepared baths and scheduled massages. He gingerly placed lotion on your growing belly, and proceeded to rub natural remedies on your cervix, anything to make your eventual labor smoother. He kneaded your growing breasts and never hesitated to help you tie your shoes. God had smote the Egyptians for worshipping their golden calf, and here Namjoon was, on his knees, singing exaltations to your growing form.

        The third and fourth time Namjoon prayed was when your water broke, and with it came an excessive amount of blood. You had rushed to the hospital and were diagnosed with late term placenta previa, a condition they should’ve caught earlier. Upon examination, you were rushed into a C-Section, and as he sat clutching your hand, tears streaming down your faces, Namjoon braced himself for the worst possible outcome. He prayed diligently, every second you were in surgery, every moment he wasn’t whispering to you or kissing your hair, he prayed.

God, Jesus, Allah, anyone… Please let my wife be safe. Please do not take her or our baby away from me. Please let us live our lives together. Please let them be okay, please, please, please.

      He offered up penance, a term he’d learned reading about the evolution of the Catholic church. He’d offered up his career, his bandmates, his money, his time. Anything he could trade to keep you and your baby.

      Namjoon had thought he’d heard a gospel chorus whenever he saw your bump or felt the baby kick. It wasn’t until his child took its first breath and let out a cry, that Namjoon realized the crescendo of expectation, fear, relief and hope raking through his brain was the angels, singing the Halleluiah Chorus, proclaiming the birth of the savior. He could see it, you Mary, the unassuming mother of the Christ child, him Joseph, a lowly craftsman, the doctors, the shepherds, guiding life into the world.

      As your tears turned to joy, Namjoon muttered to himself, “Unto you a child is given.”  

      It was past midnight when Namjoon finally had a minute to breathe. He held your new baby securely in his arms and glanced at your peacefully sleeping form. The past 48 hours had been a whirlwind. You were recovering from a C-Section and unable to lift or move much. On the one hand, you were relieved. You were emotionally exhausted from a traumatic labor, and physically exhausted from undergoing a major operation. Bed rest was welcomed as your body began to heal, from the nine months it had spent growing life, and as your hormones began to fall and rebalance. On the other, you wanted to spend every second staring at your child, guessing what they’d be like, wondering if their eyes were shaped like your husband’s or yours. Smelling their head for that new baby, fresh on the planet scent, and memorizing every feature.

      Namjoon was grateful, it gave him time to spend with your child, knees deep in fatherhood. He could carry your child everywhere, sing to it, love it, create a strong bond before he would eventually be pulled to tour. He was savoring every diaper, every midnight feed, every coo and cry. He couldn’t imagine life before your child was born, and he wanted to cherish every millisecond he had with you both.  

      He hummed to your baby quietly and again glanced at you, your milk had slowly started to come in and leak onto your shirt, or rather, a tour shirt of Namjoon’s that you’d kept every time he left home. He remembered the day you fought over him not having a t-shirt in your size and been pleasantly surprised when he had found this one in some drawer. Over the years it had become your comfort object. You kept it at his place indefinitely, and once you’d moved in together, had insisted he wear it before he went on tour to capture his musk. What had started as an argument over insecurities had blossomed into one of your favorite traditions.

[ticklikeabomb]

One-shot : Noises

Pairing : Loki x Plus Size Reader

Warnings : Language, Innuendos, Sexy Times, Implied Smut (18+)

Word Count : 1.6k

Requested by @scorpionchild81​ : How about a Loki x reader oneshot: they give each other a back-massage in readers room, but some passbying Avengers hears yells coming from inside the room that makes them wonder... - (based on sentences overheard from outside a spa-lounge back home) "Put your back into it! Do it harder! You are so damn tight! Oh fuck me, your hands feel so good!" True story...

It wasn’t a secret for anyone crossing the compound’s tower that there was some kind of animosity between you and Loki. Both of you were stubborn, always trying to prove the other wrong and seeking for the final word. That kind of behaviour would probably annoy the God of Mischief in a normal period of time, especially coming from a mere mortal, but somehow it was different when it regarded you. He found it challenging, always on the edge of his seat, even going so far as saying, a necessary surviving mechanism. The most simple and ridiculous thing would be the beginning of a feud, sometimes out of boredom and the most time out of provocation. It’s simple: You and Loki loved to argue. It was your definition of fun. A funny game that annoyed the hell out of the other members.

Today wasn’t any different. You arrived at the kitchen in a particular bad mood due to the lack of sleep and were greeted by the delight that is of hearing Loki’s unique way of greeting you. “Someone looks ravishingly terrible”, he said while taking a gulp of his coffee. The side-eye you gave him would make anyone else tremble but not him, who just cockily smirked. “You sound amazingly annoying. As per usual”, you replied not even sparing him another look. “Well that’s a great way to start the day off”, commented Tony under his breath. “And who’s fault is it?”, you told the billionaire. “Guys, please can we for once eat in peace?”, quickly intervened before you had the chance to bark anything out. Loki found it amusing to shapeshift as Steve and impersonate him.  You rolled your eyes and sat next to Bucky, completely ignoring Loki. You were so caught in conversation with the former assassin that you didn’t notice Loki’s brows frowned, anger boiling inside him, seeing you talk so easily and animated with another man.

Thor leaned in and whispered at his brother’s ear, “Careful brother, your inner jealousy is showing off.” “Don’t be ridiculous”, spat Loki to a smiling Thor. “Whatever makes you sleep better”, replied the latter. Disregarding him, Loki turned to Tony and asked what was the mission of the day. “It’s a simple recon in Brussels. Small team: Steve, Bucky, Sam, Nat and Wanda. Nothing special.”

“If it’s nothing special why don’t you send me in and I’ll get it done by myself in less time than you can sayTheistareykjarbunga ”. “What did you just call me?”, asked Tony jokingly. “It’s the name of… never mind”, replied Loki once he saw Tony’s amused expression. “As tempting as that sounds, the plan’s already set in motion. You’ll have to find a way to pass time here.” Loki’s gaze locked on you and smirked in anticipation. “Maybe I could help Y/N get the stick out of her ass.” Your eyes widened and mouth fell open for second before you regained some composure and turned towards Thor, “Tangled how much do you love him? Like in a scale from ‘very much’ to ‘not at all I will be glad for you to murder him’ wise?” Your question made some of the Avengers laugh and Loki’s dark gaze intensify. “You would miss me too much”, replied Loki. “Keep telling yourself that”, you said before cleaning up your things and leaving the kitchen. Steve turned to Loki and shook his head, “Why are you like this man?”, to which Loki only smirked.

After the designated team members left for the mission, you asked F.R.I.D.A.Y who were the others. “Bruce, Tony and Rhodes are in the lab and required no disturb of any kind. Peter, Thor, Scott and Vision left for a baseball match and Loki is at the library.” You sighed, realising the only human interaction was either none of with the God of Mischief. “Should I inform King Loki of you presence?” “King? What? No..NOO absolutely not. I’d rather die of boredom alone than having to hear him once more today.”

“Awn don’t be like that pet”, suddenly Loki’s voice filled your room. Since you were in your private cacoon you didn’t bother to put on a shirt and were in a shorts and bra. You covered your chest with your arms and yelled, “WTF LOKI WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN MY ROOM??? GET OUT” He stretched out his hands as a sign of no harm, “Wow sorry I ddin’t… know you..were half naked.” “NO SHIT, GET OUT” He turned around but didn’t leave. “Look, I’m bored, I’ve finished all the books from the library, twice and since you’re the only one available, I thought we could do something together.” You grabbed a shirt that was lying next your bed an put it on. “And of course, you thought the best way was to teleport you inside my room easy peasy without consequences. Besides, what happened ‘to get the stick out of my ass’. Now I’m good enough for your highness’s attention. And why is F.R.I.D.A.Y. calling you ‘King Loki’?”, you rambled furiously.

He disappeared in the middle of your rambling and you heard knocks. You opened up and say him leaning against the door frame. “I’m sorry for what I said this morning, I don’t think your uptight. May I come in?”, he spoke seductively. You narrowed your eyes but eventually let him in. “Apologizing is not really your fortey.” “Accepting them is not yours”, he replied. “Touché”. You sat at the edge of your bed and saw him wander around your room, looking at the pictures on the wall. “What do you want?”, you finally asked tiredly. “I don’t know. Do something. Pass time.” You turned around and felt your back crack and let out a shaky breath. “Need a back massage dear?”, he asked intrigued. “What? No.”

His piercing gaze reading you like a map he exclaimed, “Are you sure? It seems to me that your back hurts and a massage would be the remedy to it.” He saw you consider it before frowning again. “Ah ah ah, before you say anything, please let me help you. Let’s say it’s a way to repay you for that stupid comment this morning.” “Loki I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” He shrugged, “Why not? We’re both adults. If it becomes too much you just say and I’ll stop. Trust me on this one.”

“Fine”, you gave up and laid on the bed. You passed him your lotion from the nightstand and lifted you shirt off. “Relax”, he whispered. It was hard to relax, when you had a tall, (hot), dark haired, God sitting on your ass while his hands were wandering your back.

Meanwhile, the team came back from their mission, exhausted. They chatted through the facility’s corridors while heading to their rooms who were at the same floor as yours. “Yeah and did you see his face when…hold on what’s that noise?”, asked Sam. “What noise?”, exclaimed Wanda.

“Oh come on, you could put your back into it. I’m barely feeling you.” “DO IT HARDER !”

“What the fuck”, mumbled Bucky.

“Yes…yes, like that Loki. Shit your hands feel so good. So..fuck me..yes harder, just like that”, your voice rang out load.

“I guess they finally came to a way to blow off some stream. Finally”, commented Natasha.

“LOKII YES THERE, RIGHT THERE, DON’T STOP”, the team heard you and they tried to suppress their laughs when they saw Steve’s bet red face. The team decided to split and head towards their respective rooms.

“Wow, thanks. I guess I really needed that”, you mumbled in contempt. He leaned forward and pressed a small kiss on your shoulder. “It was my pleasure.” He laid down next to you and caressed your hair. “Sorry about the noise”, you said a little embarrassed. He chuckled and told you that the team arrived. “Do you think they know?”, you asked him. “Hmm I doubt it, but something tells me that they heard you.” “Shiiiittt, we were so close man.”

“Can you believe that we were this close to sabotage their bet and gain the whole cash”, you whined in frustration. “That we were but I’m glad that it’s finally over. I don’t want to hide anymore”, he said. “Me neither. For a bunch of spies and superheroes, they suck at knowing their team members. It’s gonna be our second anniversary and they have no clue”, you laughed. Lifting yourself up and crawling above him leaving feather like kisses on his abdomen, you smirked feeling his breath hitch. You hand travelled down and felt him completely comply to your touch. “Someone’s eager”, you teased. “Y/N you driving me crazy. Since this morning, when you dared showing up with your post sex hair at the kitchen till now, you’ve been having me to the edge.” You hummed and started taking care of your man.

You and Loki entered the kitchen smiling and laughing at something when you turned to the Avengers who were smirking. “What?”, you asked suspiciously. “Oh nothing”, replied Tony. There was a silent before Sam broke it, “Isn’t it funny that the frenemies always end up together?” You and Loki shared a look before Tony exclaimed out of patience, “So you guys finally fucked?” “TONYY”, whisper-yelled Steve. “The whole compound heard”, exclaimed Nat. “Loki was giving me a massage”, you replied. “YEAH sure A MaSsAgE”, mimicked Bucky. “Yes it was indeed”, counterattacked Loki. “You guys weren’t fondueing?”, cautiously asked Steve. “No Steve.” “I call BS”, said Peter.

“Well I mean, if you’re talking about this morning, and yesterday, and the day before and for the last two years then yeah we were totally fucking”, you said with a smug grin. Their mouths dropped. “WHATTT, for the past two years??” “Exactly”, smiled Loki. “But how? When? What? Why?”, mumbled Sam dumbfounded. “Ahhh so many questions and so little time. Now if you’ll excuse me, we have a special date tonight. Byeeee”, you grabbed Loki’s hand and got out. You spent the night freely with your man.

* gifs not mine, credit to owners*

PERMANENT TAG LIST : @arrowswithwifi @poetic-pixie @theshortegg @kyber-hearts-and-stardust-souls @prettybubblesintheair @yafriendlyfangirl @marshmallow-witch @ms-cellanies @the-feckless-wonder @cfisher290 @thefangirltheycallviolet @river-fics @lilulo-12 @fanfictionrecommendations-com @spetzerfehn @angieptt @wayward-timetravel-collecter​ @ashley17jacobs @lokithedancingqueen @wildsoul1221  @robertconradjr @francezka10  @titty-teetee @breezy1415 @lunarprincess3977 @thelostallycat @introvertedsin

[masseurrsvp]

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[imaginefan]

something his gf does that turns him on (preferences) with the winchester boys, Castiel, Loki, Thor, Tony, Bucky, Steve and Stiles Stilinski (could you add him for the «what she does that annoys him» preferences that I send a minute ago pls ? I forgot him!)

Sam Winchester

Sam had been on a hunt for a few days, you had been back at the bunker, Sam and Dean said that it was a relatively simple hunt so you could relax, you decided that today was a good day to get all of your normal stuff sorted out, you did washing, cleaned the bunker as best you could and even went out and got some food for when the boys got back.

That evening you were in your and Sam’s shared bedroom, you were missing him and decided that the best way for your remedy for this was to steal one of his shirts slipping it on after taking a shower it was a few hours after that, that Sam and Dean actually came back. Sam walked into the bedroom and was shocked that you were still up, you were typing away on your laptop, you glanced up when he came in a smiled putting your computer to the side and getting up, his eyes trailed your body as you walked over and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Neither of you are hurt?” You asked.“No, we’re fine.” Sam smiled walking you backwards.“Well, you need to get some rest.” You ordered as you pulled his hands from around your waist.“I’m fine.” He muttered reaching out for you but you shake your head and laughed.“We have plenty of time tomorrow so rest now.” You ordered, he groaned knowing that you weren’t going to budge on the subject, he grumbled as he walked over to the bed taking off his shirt and tossing it to the side before taking off his jeans and climbing into the bed with you.

Dean

Dean dropped his gun, he was in trouble but that was where you came in, you were just around the corner and when you saw that he was pinned you grabbed the gun and shot. Dean may have almost died but that didn’t stop him from thinking you looked gorgeous, he pushed the body off of him before getting up and strolled over to you. “Are you okay?” You asked.“I’m fine.” He answered wrapping his arms around you and taking the gun from your hand holstering it before pulling you closer.“What are you doing?” You asked.“You deserve a reward for saving my life.” He smirked and you rolled your eyes.“You literally just almost died.” You explained.“All the more reason to rewards you.” He said softly but you rolled your eyes and pushed him away before heading back to the Impala.

Castiel

Castiel almost always seemed to be on the move and you knew that he needed to slow down if he wanted to actually help the boys, you knew that he didn’t physically get tired but there were times when he would forget the small things and you picked up the pieces today was particularly bad and you decided that you were going to put a stop to it.

“Cas come here love!” You called as you sat on the bed of your shared hotel room, he smiled softly as he sat down next to you, your eyes lingered on his wings, something that felt like a secret of yours, you were the only human that could see them and that was special to you both, you hands gently moved to them running your hands through the feathers.“You need some rest.” You scolded softly and he sighed.“You know I do not need to sleep.” Cas reminded you and you nodded.“No, but that doesn’t mean that your mind doesn’t need rest.” You said softly as your hands run up his neck to his hair and massaged his scalp, he let out a sound that made you smirk as you stopped for a second and he leaned back to you, you smiled leaning forward pressing a kiss to his cheek. “There are other things that I can do to help you relax.”

Loki

Loki stormed into your shared room, he seemed to be upset about something but you hadn’t heard anything, there was no commotion so you were a little confused “what happened this time?” You asked putting down your book and running your hands through your hair and turning on your side to look at him.“Nothing.” He answered as he sat on the edge of the bed before lying back.“What happened, my king?” You asked, Loki’s face seemed to soften the moment that you referred to him by that name, in a second he had you pinned to the bed, he leant down but you turned your head away from him. “Answer the question.” “It was nothing just my idiot brother.” He answered and you raised an eyebrow but he didn’t elaborate instead he started to press kisses to your neck and you lost the fight instead giving into him deciding that you were going to find out later.

Thor

Thor had never seen you angry most of the time you walked away from a situation that would entice any type of anger from you but today was one of those days where you could just ignore everything that had happened.

You were having a bad day, to begin with everyone at worked seemed to want to make your day hell whether it was the attitude or the amount of work that they wanted to push on you so by the time that you got home and saw the mess of clothes and food in your small living room you kinda just exploded “Thor!” You yelled knowing that your boyfriend was at the very least to blame for the food.“Your home my love!” He called but you didn’t say anything and the moment that he saw you there were two thoughts that went through his head, the first was the obvious realisation that you were not happy, the second being that he didn’t mind the look on your face, in fact, he was quite enjoying the view but now was not the time. “What’s wrong?” “What’s wrong!?” You asked. “This place is a mess.” “Well, how about you get to take a bath and I’ll clean this up?” He suggested and you looked at him narrowing your eyes before walking turning.“It better be clean.” You warned as you walked away and Thor let out a breath.

Tony

You walked into the lab where Tony had locked himself away for hours, Pepper had come over and told you that she hadn’t seen him all day so you went looking for him and now you had finally found him you knew that he hadn’t eaten so you ordered something and waited for it to arrive before going down with a plan in mind.

You opened the door to the lab and put the food on the workspace in front of him and he looked at you as you crossed your arms. “What time did you come down here?” You asked.“I don’t know sometime this morning.” He answered.“No breakfast?” You asked and he shook his head moving the food to the side as he continued to work. “Don’t you dare push that to the side!” He looked at you and smirked as he leaned back in his chair.“I’ll eat later” He waved you off.“No, you won’t now eat that!” You ordered pointing to the food.“I love it when you're in charge!” He bit his lip and you rolled your eyes.“That better be gone by the time that I come back down here.” You warned before walking back up to the stairs to get some drinks.

Bucky

Bucky walked into the training room expecting to be alone he hadn’t seen you all morning and expected that you were off doing your own thing, he wasn’t unhappy when he walked in and saw you in the middle of a workout, he quietly put his bag down before walking over and holding the punching bag for you. “You're looking good.�� He smirked and you rolled your eyes before giving the bag a hard punch.“Why thank you.” You answered.“Is there something bothering you or is this all just a workout?” He asked.“Nothing bothering me.” You answered bending down to pick up the water bottle taking a sip, Bucky stepped around the bag and wrapped an arm around you.“Good.” He said softly.“Bet I can do more push-ups than you.” You giggled, he raised an eyebrow.“You're on.” He nodded. “And if I win then I get something,” Bucky suggested.“What do you win?” You asked.“You’ll see.” He winked before the competition started.

Steve

Steve had met you through S.H.I.E.L.D, you were good with computers and for the longest time Steve actually didn’t know what it was that you did that made feel the way that he did but you did, you noticed the pattern when ever you were asked to work with him he seemed distracted and restless.

Steve got you into the hideout and you started downloading what you could from the computers that they hadn’t destroyed, the door burst open and Steve moved into action taking out most of the guys with the last one knocking the shield out of his hand, the shield bumped against your leg and you looked back “How are you doing here sweetheart?” You asked as you continued typing barely glancing at the keyboard.“I’m good.” He ground out as he knocked the guy out.“Good.” You winked as you continued typing turning as someone appeared in the door, you flipped the shield up and threw it hitting the guy in the face.“Wow.” Steve’s eyes widened.“I only learn from the best.” You said winking as you walked past him “come on Cap we’ve got a plane to catch.”

Stiles

Stiles and Scott often found themselves in some serious trouble and you were always around to save their asses, you seemed to appear when they needed you and made sure that you had everything that you needed to make sure they were getting out of there alive.

You walked into the classroom that Stiles was supposed to be in and frowned when you saw Scott’s Dad sitting in front of him. “Stiles? Are we going?” You asked.“(Y/N)?” Scott’s Dad asked.“Mmm.” You hummed.“Do you know where Scott is?” He asked. “None of you other friends have been in school today.” “Yeah we noticed, we were just as worried, we were going to the hospital and ask Melissa if he was at home, maybe even drop some work to him if we can find him.” You explained holding up some random papers from some of the classes that you shared with the boys.“If you hear anything will you let me know?” He asked.“Is there any legal obligation for me to do that?” You asked and he sighed knowing that you were going to be as difficult as Stiles. “To be honest with you I’m not sure I should tell you anything about Scott’s whereabouts should I find them out, it’s up to him and Melissa whether you see them again you aren’t going to trick me into helping you see your son again.” With that you turned and walked out again Stiles followed behind you.“That was really hot.” He smirked and you rolled your eyes.“Come on we have to go find our friends.” You ordered leading him out of the room.

[privatehellwithroses]

Mommy is at home (Loki x Reader Smut)

Summary: Loki decides to tease you under the table while you were having dinner with his parents. But he would not be content with so little.

Words: 3.499

Warning: Smut, Dirty Talk, Teasing, Oral (giving and receiving (Female Reader receiving)), Rough Sex, Dom!Loki? (im sorry idk what do here im new at this thing y’all have pity on me plEASE)

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“Loki!”, You hit hard on the arm of the tall dark-haired man sitting next to you, seeing that he would really take the idea of ​​exposing his life and sexual mores with you to Frigga seriously, even if only indirectly. This guy can be annoyingly brazen whenever he wants.

   Your life since coming to Argasd has been quite comfortable, you do not have a huge house, but you could afford to go to the castle every day and practically live there, thanks to Loki.

 You were inexplicably brought here, one day was on earth and the other was already here. You might think you died, or something, but Thor, who brought you here, gave you a rather simple and injurious explanation: you had a mission here. That was never something that really convinced you until you met Loki, Thor’s brother and apparently the black sheep of the family.

 Loki was not the kind of guy that made a girl fall in love on the first day with him, quite the contrary, he was a mess at first sight. You found him in the dungeon of the castle when he was released after a long time in jail. He had a look, dark, cold, and was really broken inside, he said at his first meeting with you that Thor was doing this for him to love someone and stop acting like he used to, so he said that he didn’t believe in love and that this was a farce.

 It took time for Loki to open up for you and surrender. But you were here now.

 He was the god of lies, but he was incapable of lying to you of his love, and you knew it.

 You were like the famous couple who are all full and hate to see or deal. You spent a lot of time together, and he made a point of including you in the real events of Argasd, which irritated the other girls of the kingdom a lot, considering that you were just a human in the Real environment. And, well, as much as he could get the picture of a more polite and kind man to the rest of his people, you knew that between the four walls of his room it was not quite like that.

 And after all, there was you, at dinner with the whole royal family of Asgard. Comic, if not tragic.

  “What?” He looked at you with a cynical look and always mocking smile, you rolled your eyes.

 “You guys are so cute,” Frigga said, looking at you with a smile. “But, YN, I’d like to hear a little more about your story, you seem to be a very strong woman.”

 “Oh, well, I’m from Dallas, well, was. My family has always been humble, so I could never have access to things like that. I used to live in the field, I had to cross the grass, it was never easy, but I did it for my parents. I started to sell cakes on the streets and- "Loki’s hand rested on your uncovered thighs, you glared at him. Damn day to wear dress. "And so I was able to pay my college-.” You jumped in your chair when you felt your boyfriend’s hand slip into your panties “my college and form me right�� - his eyes widened as he felt Loki’s fingers penetrating you beneath him dining table.

 “Y / N dear, are you feeling well?” Frigga asked worriedly. You looked at Thor, who was divided in disbelief and laugh; he had already realized what was happening.

 “Y-yes, queen, I’m sorry. I’m just not feeling so good”, you yelled as Loki found your G-spot. You looked at him, a miserable smile on his lips, he was amused by your despair. Your core was already starting to hurt and your orgasm approaching. Everyone at the table was scared except Loki and Thor, and what a great way to behave in a formal dinner with your boyfriend’s family.

 "Maybe you should go take some medicine, Y / N”, the king of Argasd exclaimed, Loki gave him a hard look, disagreeing.

 “Father, don’t be unpleasant”, Loki took his fingers out from within you, you collapsed in the chair instantly, now breathing “Y / N needs to rest. I’m sure it was pretty tiring for her last night”, he smiled at you, reminding you how much you really had reason to be tired the night before.

   Loki pulled you into the bedroom quickly and threw you in the door, analyzing you up and down with the gold dress he had given you, a smile formed on his face to see how well that fine fabric fell on your body. He brought his mouth to your neck, giving you a long, wet kiss. He reached down for the lock of the door and locked it, turning his attention back to your neck again.

  "Loki …”, you moaned over his mouth as you felt his hard cock brush against your thigh. He indicated silence with his index finger on your lip and smiled clearly excited by your nervousness to have him so close to you, and the fact that you are so sensitive to his touch, no matter how miserable.

 He quickly attacked your mouth as wildly and needlessly as he could, squeezing you even harder on the icy wood. He used his free hand to squeeze your waist violently, probably with the intention of leaving marks later. He loved it. He loved to prove somehow that you were his alone.

   He threw you into bed brutally, quickly getting over you, kissing you with the purest lust he could feel. You groaned as you felt his hard cock brush against its core again and he soon mimicked slow lunge movements over your panties, amused to see you so entertained with so little.

    "Loki ...", you groaned and wrapped your legs around his waist, sticking your body even further, you nailed your nails to the nape of his neck, shivering him, you gave a long smile to discover a new weakness of him.

   Loki pulled your dress up to your waist, leaving him there and he set out to mistreat his favorite part of your body, your breasts. He kissed and nibbled lightly on your nipples, always varying between sucking one and massaging the other. You pulled his hair as he brought his hand to the hem of your panties, then starting circular movements on your clit still over the thin fabric. You felt a knot forming in your stomach as you felt your boyfriend reach down into your panties and stick a long finger in you.

   He began to penetrate you with slow and torturous movements, but he was increasing his speed more and more, according to your groans and his sadistic need to always be in complete control of the situation, including your orgasm. 

 It was not long before Loki put a second finger in, you closed your eyes tightly at the slight embarrassment of having his huge fingers inside you. You were already used to it, but it took some time for you to get used to it again and again whenever you had sex.

  "Faster ...", you moaned still with your eyes closed, but was ignored by the man, who still insisted on torturing you with every second that happened with only long and slow motives. You opened your eyes to look at him with your most needy gaze that could and held him by the wrist "Please, Loki. I want more ... ", you spoke in your most cunning voice. You knew he couldn’t resist it. 

 He gave you a devilish smile and quickened his movements, you were already rolling your eyes with such pleasure. He brought his lips to your neck again, taking a loud moan from you. You scratched his back firmly over your leather suit, and Loki moaned low in your ear, which only turned you on even more. You flickered on his fingers in order to get it even deeper inside of you.

  "Ah ... Loki", you started to roll faster. He kissed you to stifle your moans, which were too high and could even reach Odin's ears.

"L-Loki ..." you groaned weakly on his lips, which made him groan too, and you kissed him back, shutting him out. When you were very close to reaching paradise, you were surprised by him who suddenly took his fingers off you. You gave him a furious look. "Why did you stop, you stupid asshole?" A malevolent smile formed on his lips as soon as he heard you say that. You looked at him without understanding anything.

  "You're not going to cum until I let you cum, darling”, he smiled, sitting up on the bed and pulling his body against you again.

   He took off the rest of the dress you still had on your body and glowered at your intimacy soaked thanks to him. Then he took off your panties gently, enchanted by what he saw and very proud of him and only he had caused that. He licked his lips before plunging his face into your thighs. You closed your legs a little embarrassed by his gaze, but he smiled and opened them carefully again. You closed your eyes expecting any action from the man, but was surprised by his hot wet tongue licking all over your vaginal extension.

 You squeezed the white sheets tightly as you felt his tongue drift to your clit and brush it all over, kissing, licking, sucking, and nibbling all over that already sensitive area. You were already killing yourself without being able to moan to prevent his family from discovering the true remedy you needed to take.

   "Loki ... L-Loki", you bit your lips hard, leaving that part extremely red and even bleeding. "OH LOKI", you let out a loud moan as he licked your weak spot, he laughed.

   "My mother is at home, have you forgotten my love?", You nodded, holding your hands in your mouth in an attempt not to moan "You will have to hold on from now on", he smiled and entered a finger, you bit strongly your hands, to keep your cries from awakening the rest of the kingdom.

 Then he entered the second finger again and moved it slowly inside you, torturing you. He licked again your already swollen clit, having the help of his fingers that now penetrated you much faster and brute than before. That was your limit. You groaned as loudly as you can with the reproach of the man above you, who now held your mouth trying to stop you from moaning.

   "Oh Loki ... This ...", you pulled his black hair, commanding the movements of his tongue and rolling in his mouth "It’s so good ..." you moaned low, with your hand still holding your mouth.

    "Like this, huh?" He kissed your clit slowly, as if kissing it as he slowed and accelerated his fingertips constantly "Look how much my little girl is dirty, riding my mouth so well… I wish everyone would see you like this, so they knew I am the cause of this beautiful mess."

 "I can’t wait for you to ride like that on my face", an evil smile formed on his lips.

   You again tugged his hair a little harder, indicating that you would cum and he took your fingers off you, slowly masturbating you. Your legs quickly weakened and you felt the orgasm come, tightening your legs and closing your eyes tightly. You tried to moan, but it was interrupted by Loki's lips, which kept you from screaming right there. His dark eyes looking at you with pure lust under that condition.

  He took his fingers from you and rubbed in the entrance of your intimacy, soiling them with all your natural liquid. He took them to his mouth and sucked them, enjoying every drop. He smirked a little smile as he finished sipping your juices altogether.

   "Look how much you taste good, darling", Loki kissed you again, making you feel your own taste. You got out of bed with some difficulty because of the surge of pleasure that invaded your body seconds ago. You stared at him, grinning, and got a sneaky look back, he already knew what you were going to do. He sat on the bed, paying attention to your actions.

   "My turn, baby", Loki flashed an unspeakable smile at once. You knelt on the chilly floor of the room and lowered his pants quickly, without breaking eye contact with him. You massaged his cock softly over his underwear, he gasped and you smiled, happy with the reaction.

     "Y / N, don't torture me", he said with a needy look, hopeful that you would be convinced. He knew you would get revenge for what he did before. "If you torture me now, I'll not be nice to you later," he spat, trying to frighten you.

   "Forgive me the language, my king, but I think you should shut up," you stood up and kissed him, simulating masturbation movements over his leather clothes. He moaned low on your lips.

    "Just do it", he snarled angrily, you laughed and answered his desperate request by pulling his erect dick from the black cloth that covered him and slowly starting to masturbate him.

       "Ah Y/N... fuck", he said hoarsely in your ear. You have further increased the movement of your hands "You are playing dirty with me", you passed the tip of your finger on his already wet head of pre-jouissance and made circular strokes there. He tried not to moan, kissing your neck, trying to hold back his moans, which insisted on getting loose in his throat.

 And here was the dominant Loki, crumbling beneath your touch.

   You knelt on the floor again and continued the movements with your hands, slower and slower. It made him agonized for wanting more and for not being able to ask not to moan, and you loved it, watching him hold his moans. It turned you to absurd levels.

   Loki was crazy, he tried to hold back his moans and some time or other he let out some very soft, which encouraged you to continue. You were doing it calmly, but as you heard his moans, or their lack, you accelerated the movements. After a few minutes, you felt his cock pulsate in your hand and then your mouth filled with his warm, sweet liquid, you swallowed without disgust and Loki gasped, almost falling on the bed. He was satisfied, but you were not.

     You smiled and when he was unprepared, you put his whole cock in your mouth, that's when he didn’t hold it and moaned loud and clear for the first time. You sucked his cock slowly and what you couldn’t suck you masturbated with your unoccupied hand. You licked his head and kissed her, which made him moan even more. You kissed the area with all the willpower of the world, as if kissing him; he knew he couldn't stand it. 

 He tied your hair into a clumsy ponytail and dictated the movements, being fully in control again. He forced your mouth against his cock, making you feel him touch the back of your throat. A sudden urge to vomit arose and you held on, until he untied your hair from his fingers and you took the opportunity to suck his head off his cock deeply. His weak point.

 Loki hung his head back and groaned without sound, just with his mouth parted. You felt his veins thicken in your mouth and was filled with his jet of liquid again. He grunted as he saw his own cum down your lips and you wipe that mess with your tongue.

 Loki threw himself into bed quickly and pulled you, making you sit on his lap. You adjusted your body better in his and he bit his lip trying not to moan when he felt you rub lightly on his cock, even if accidentally.

  "Oh Loki... Why do you still insists on holding, mm?" You gave him a mischievous smile, slowly rubbing your swollen clit on the head of his dick. He closed his eyes tightly, not letting out any sound, "So I guess you don’t like it, right?" You moaned in his ear, swaying slowly and having fun watching his determination in not to moan. "My king, always so proud..."

  "Oh fuck, Y/N", he moaned slyly, sinking his head into the mattress. "Please do not stop. I like it... I like it so bad", Loki closed his eyes and placed his hand on your thighs, now dictating the speed at which you rubbed into it. You smiled victoriously as you heard him moaning so sly practically begging for you.

  You stopped moving and positioned his member at the entrance of your intimacy, sliding completely into it. You closed your eyes because of the initial nuisance of having him inside you. You started to move slowly, trying to get used to his size. After a few minutes all the pain vanished and turned into pure pleasure.

 Loki was not pleased with your torturous speed and he rested his hands on your waist, now dictating his speed. You ranged between swift and slow rolls to feel him deep inside you, which made him completely crazy. He took you from his lap and turned quickly, now standing over you. You scratched his back as you felt his cock prick hard on the cervix.

 He stocked you slowly, suddenly altering his movements to fast and deep. He moaned muffled in your neck and distributed several hickeys all over your skin, making you slow down the movements, just to tease you.

  "Loki... please" you asked in a husky voice and he focused his gaze directly in your eyes, waiting for what you were going to say "F-faster" his smile opened automatically and he accelerated the movements, stocking you now with all the strength he had.

   "Ah Y/N, fuck ...", he moaned softly in your ear as he felt you roll over him in order to have him even more inside you "Do you have any notion of how much that little dress drives me crazy? All I wanted was to come into this room and beat that pretty ass so hard it would make you feel my hands for weeks since you came in that damn fucking room", you could not say anything other than groaning, his words making you squirm under him with so much pleasure. "You like me fucking you while my parents are at home, mmm? Do you like that I fuck you hard while everyone in this damn castle can hear you Y/N? I bet you touch yourself every day thinking about it. You're such a dirty girl", he whispered in your ear, penetrating even deeper, reaching your G-spot, smirking and beating his hips at yours with even more strength.

 Loki was out of control at that moment, but he could never hurt you. You went through a lot of these situations and he always asked for your permission to speed up every time you guys had sex. But now, there was trust, and he knew deep inside that you loved to feel pain.

    "Loki... A-ah..." a loud moan escaped your lips and he kissed you intensely pointing to the door, you nodded and pulled his hair tight, indicating him your orgasm nearby and he took one last thrust , covering his mouth to stop you from screaming.

  It took only a few strokes for you to undo yourself. You collapsed beside him, his breathing completely deregulated. You watched him, all sweaty, with the wet black threads shining on his forehead and moaning unable to stop, it was a complete paradise for you. A silly grin escaped from your lips.

  "Hey... I'm sorry if I lost control today, I do not even like the idea of ​​hurting you, princess." You smiled 'you did not hurt me,' he kissed your hand lovingly, picking you up and taking your clothes off the floor. "My mother will definitely think you're dead, or that I killed you", he said breathlessly, helping you put the dress back on.

 "I bet she did not even notice it," you shrugged. Turning to him and resting your elbows on his shoulders.

 "Oh, my dear, you did not stop moaning for a second and still moaned so loudly that all Argard must have heard you. Surely she noticed.” Loki laughed and looked at you with mockery, you rolled your eyes, laughing at how cocky he could be "but honestly, I don’t give a shit", he kissed you by sliding your hands down your body and gave you a delicate kiss on the forehead; you smiled, looking into his eyes.

  "You're divine, thank you for being mine."

[la-fille-en-aiguilles]

Andrew Garfield x Female Reader: Twenty-Four, Six (Forty-Fucking-Three, Part 3)

A/N: First of all, I am so sorry for this long wait. In order to make up for it, I made this third part much longer than I originally intended. In fact, to be completely honest, it’s gotten a little bit out of control. Some passages got me a little bit fucked up, but I guess I needed it to at least try and make it feel authentic. To you, beautiful human being, who’s reading this, I really hope you’ll like it. As always, feel free to give me feedback as some of you did - I appreciate it more than you can ever imagine! I also listened to ‘The Moon’ by The Swell Season when writing the last part, check them out.  Enjoy it, lads xx 

Lots of love and good vibes to you all!  Warnings: Some serious angst, mixed with a tiny doze of fluff and heartbreak. SMUT (I can’t believe i wrote that). If you don’t feel comfortable reading this, you can skip the entire last part, except for a couple of sentences at the end. It’s my first time writing smut (and probably the last), so I probably did a pretty shitty job with it, but hey! I tried. Also, swear words. My English, but I guess you’ve gotten used to it by now (: New to the series? Start by chilling at LAX airport here and then talk to your bf Brittnee here! 

Clinging to your dream as if it was your lifeline, you rolled over in your bed, commanding yourself to fall back asleep. It seemed like you had been tossing and turning for years now, your fragile slumber slipping away from your cold fingers as you tried to hold on. 

People crossing the boulevard. The sound of the water in the Louvre fountain, the drops of it crushing into the cold marble… Someone drumming their fingers on the table in a deserted Parisian café… 

Only you weren’t in Paris anymore.

You lay on your king-size bed, your body only slightly covered with blank sheets as someone banged on the door. You opened your eyes all at once, as realization dawned on you. It took a minute for you to blink off the remainders of sleep, stretching your hand to the bedside table. Your phone indicated five-thirty in the morning, the early rays of the Californian sun conquering darkness on the horizon. You sat on your bed, covering your breasts with your hands, numbly asking yourself whether you didn’t imagine the knocking rather than heard it.

The sound of someone’s fist colliding with the door split the silence of the room. Its echo rang in the air, as you stared into the dimness of the corridor, struggling to think straight. Slowly swinging your bare legs over the edge of your bed, you got up on your feet, cold air biting at your exposed skin. You grabbed a fluffy, white bathrobe on your way to the entrance door, wrapping it around your naked body, your hair caressing your bare shoulders – you tied the soft belt around your waist, but the robe was three sizes too big for you… 

White first-rate cotton was going to be your armor for this verbal battle that you knew you were not ready to fight. 

Quickening your pace, you approached the entrance, drowsiness blurring your vision. You carefully turned the doorknob, releasing the latch… You could feel your heart freeze all of the sudden, the blood in your veins ceasing to flow –  for a brief instant of hesitation, zero-gravity before the fall – before your eyes finally met Andrew’s, blood-shot and inert. 

Garfield’s dark, thick mane of hair had probably been coiffed back in some kind of a trendy hairstyle before airplane, Los Angeles’ wind and his nervous fingers ruined it. His rumpled polo clang to his broad shoulders, leaving little to imagination… His muscles tensed, as if he felt your gaze, as if it was physically draining to have you scan his upper body.  His ebony eyes, so striking against his paper-white face, weren’t blinking, as they stared at you, telling you so much yet not producing any sound.

Andrew bit his chapped lips, stretching his hand out to you. You looked down. His elegant fingers were wrapped around a big box of Pierre Hermé macarons.

Your heart ached, trying to break free from its ribcage. Your skin broke out in goose bumps, but it had nothing to do with the coldness of the air this time. 

“I asked the lady at the reception desk where I could find you. My guess is she loves herself a juicy Hollywood gossip, so…”

Garfield swallowed hard, probably trying to come up with another appropriate thing to say at five in the morning. You didn’t move an inch, just stared at him. An insane amount of guesswork was going on in his head, as he tried to figure out your next move. What was he supposed to do now? When you refused to take your favorite patisserie, he realized his best option was to walk away. Leave this stupid gift that he was idiotic enough to think would somehow remedy the entire situation, and just walk away. He had crossed the line. You were done. And he should have known better.

Every time he thought he’d put a finger on who you were, his presumptions always blew up in his face.

“Come in,” you suddenly said, your voice almost tender. You stepped aside, your eyes never leaving his. “Thank you for bringing breakfast”.

As he followed you into the kitchen space, his eyes roaming over your silhouette, he felt both relieved and miserable.

In terms of figuring you out, he was back to square zero.

“Tea or coffee?” 

You sat in a leather chair facing the French windows, watching LA slowly wake up. Broken out of your reverie by Andrew’s throaty voice, you turned your head his way, massaging your nape absentmindedly.

He stood by the kitchen counter, looking at you questioningly, holding a box of Nespresso cups in one hand and a Twinings selection in the other.  

‘I’ll take coffee, thanks,’ you deadpanned, turning your attention back to the city. The rays of the summer sun met your wandering glance head on, and you let them play with the shadows your eyelashes casted on your cheeks. Strong smell of coffee reached your nostrils, as Andrew placed a steaming cup right in front of you on a small glass table. You could feel him watch you, as he sat in an empty chair right in front you, leaning in, his elbows pressed against the rigid table surface.

“I assume you came here to talk”, you turned your whole body towards him abruptly, sliding the coffee cup out of your way. The hot brown liquid spilled on the table, forming a bizarre pattern, which you wiped off with a sleeve of your bathrobe distractedly. “Would you like to start?”

Andrew’s eyes remained fixed on the lower part of your face after you spoke, as if he was lip reading. He blinked twice before raising his glance to meet yours, his fingers rubbing his mouth. 

“I’m sorry for waking you”, he finally managed, staring down at his coffee cup. “I’m sorry for having left you in that airport. I’m sorry that, for the love of me, I couldn’t leave her. I’m sorry for being still in love with her, and I’m sorry you have to deal with…”, he was staring at you now, his eyelashes damp, “…all this mess, that I’ve gotten you into, God knows you deserve better, Jesus you do, but I just can’t let you go, I can’t because I…”

As you felt your nose go unnaturally warm, you hurriedly lowered your head, burying your fingers in your tangled hair. You tried to keep your breathing even, but a sharp exhale still managed to escape your mouth, leaving Andrew speechless. Watching you silently struggle to keep emotions at bay, he wrung his hands in utter self-hate, standing up abruptly, turning away from you.

“…because I love you,” he yelped, turning back to face you, ripping his heart up into these four innocent words, which only made sense when they were spoken together.  “So much…” he whispered, his hands behind his head. “How in hell can I love you both?… You’re going to tear me fucking apart!” he shouted at the top of his lungs, throwing his head back. You watched him, not emitting a sound, your eyes filled with what felt like acid. Pressing your lips tightly together, you closed your fluttering eyelids.

“I know that this wasn’t supposed to… We weren’t supposed to…” Andrew murmured barely audibly. “But…”

You heard yourself inhale spasmodically, as you gathered your strength and looked at him.

“But we did”, you finished for him, feeling the weight of the truth fall off your chest, heavy like an old graveyard stone. “Because that is what happens when you fuck around. You get attached to people. We both fucked up so bad…” you looked at him, meeting his downcast eyes, grief coloring them black. “I don’t want to do this, Andrew”, you bit your lip as hard as you could, keeping tears from rolling down your cheeks. “You want to break, you break alone. I don’t want to be a part of this… this carnage”, your chest felt so tight, too tight to hold that blast of emotion you held caved in for so long. “I’m out. I don’t want to be your fake girlfriend anymore. You’re on your own now.”

When the echo of your words had finally died and the silence settled in, it came as deep and vast as an ocean, separating the two of you. The ocean, in which you both were drowning, and nobody was here to save you.

“We shouldn’t have met”, you caught yourself whisper, a bitter salty taste invading your mouth. “Not at this time. Maybe one day…” you slowly rose from your chair, looking at Andrew’s tear-stained face. “Maybe one day, years from now, we will meet again, somewhere far away from here, and then we will give it another shot. Real shot this time,” you wrapped your hands around his neck, burying your face in his collarbone. You felt him shudder as he pressed his body tightly to yours, hugging you with all his might, his eyelashes tickling the sensitive skin next to your ear.

“I love you, Y/N”, he repeated and his breath felt like a dagger, its blade carving his words into your heart.

“But you love her more,” you murmured back, an explosion going off in your chest at last, deadly in its silence.

Your cold cups of coffee bathed in bright rays of the Californian sun, witnesses to the soundless affliction, until Teddy came knocking on the door, bringing hotel maids with him as he entered. These two young women later washed them and stacked them away, burying the porcelain in the armor, along with the life-changing conversation they heard. The day came and went, busy and merry, in the city of angels.

The sun, tired and bleeding, peaked in between half-closed curtains, its rays creeping inside, strips of liquid gold illuminating your empty hotel room. You had to avert your eyes the moment you walked in, for the first time since this morning, blinded by their brilliance. 

It was over. You no longer needed to play the hardest role you had ever taken on, because the show had finally come to an end. You could stop pretending now, when, ironically, you no longer needed to. That thin line between the stage and the reality had faded out, so leaving Andrew meant starting over, reinventing whatever was left of your life after he passed through.

You now knew why hurricanes were named after people.

Ellen’s show went well. It’s amazing how feather-light you felt after all the i’s were dotted and all the t’s were crossed earlier in the morning. You kept smiling at each other, kept laughing at Ellen’s comments, which were supposed to feel you uncomfortable, but failed to do so. You just stopped feeling things – everything except for that peacefulness that usually comes around once your fate is sealed. Still, you’d never admit it, even to yourself, but your eyes kept slipping in Andrew’s direction, taking mental photographs of his contagious smile, of the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes, of his messy hair, falling on his face, of those lines on his forehead, when he gave questions a proper thought…

God only knew when you were going to see him again.

Packing took you longer than you’d expected. Mostly because you wandered in your hotel room without purpose, feeling like a ghost, stuck in the place of a tragedy. Your flight to Paris was leaving early in the morning, so that was another reason for which you weren’t in any hurry.

Tony Kushner himself called you during Ellen’s show. It was a perfect timing, really. You answered his call, and he offered you a part in his play, right on the spot, with the whole world watching. When you said yes, you saw Andrew squirm and close his eyes – a brief moment of weakness – before he beamed at you, applauding and playing the role of a happy, proud boyfriend. You both saw bridges between the two of you burn bright red, and neither did anything about it. All was said and done, and you were now a bird set free.

Teddy stopped by at around nine, to see how you were holding up. You spent hours talking, drinking from the bottle of Martini that he brought, saying your goodbyes – he told you today that he wanted to retire. While at first you felt betrayed, then you understood. His kids needed him more than you did. People have been choosing other people over you a lot lately, and you couldn’t do a damn thing about it, except sucking it up and trying to live with it.

You closed the door behind Teddy at midnight, ready to go to bed. Your stomach growled as you passed the kitchen. You haven’t eaten today at all, the stress, all these crisis situations and difficult decisions making you forget about your body’s basic needs. You made your way to the kitchen space, thinking whether you should order room service, searching for a menu with your tired eyes… when some kind of a white box caught your attention. 

Pierre Hermé, Paris, was written on the lid in simple, yet elegant black letters.

A dull pain stabbed your chest, as you carefully opened the box. Twenty-four perfectly round macarons stared at you, their colors almost shining in the darkness of the room. A small note lay on the arrangement, stark white, with only six words scribbled on it in a hurry.

I’m Nothing Without You, Bee’s Knees.

You closed your eyes, clutching the lid so tightly in your hands it elicited a moan, folding in two. God knows you tried to fight it. You really did your best. Still, this wasn’t enough. You couldn’t just pretend that you didn’t want him. That you didn’t love him. It’s him who didn’t love you enough. That was the truth.

Well, you could fuck the truth, now that it had already fucked you.

You suddenly realized your mind had been made up ages ago. You closed the box hurriedly, grabbed it and headed to your bedroom. Having dropped the macarons in your bag, you picked up the hotel phone from your nightstand, arranging for your luggage to be delivered directly to the airport tomorrow morning. 

Slamming the phone back in its nest, you headed out of your room, stopping by the mirror and taking a look at yourself. Just as you thought, the little devils inside your head had lit up the fires in your eyes, impossible to put out.

If Brittnee couldn’t be proud of you for deciding to go to hell, she’d sure admire the way you went down – swinging.

The world was spinning before your eyes. Speeding cars batted their lights at you, as if they were in onto your little secret. Biting your lip, again and again, you silently prayed for the taxi driver to push the pedal to the metal, before you could change your mind. 

You were tired and sore from the long day, but you didn’t care. You didn’t need sleep, you needed him. For just this once, you admitted it to yourself, and you were going to act on it.

You wanted Andrew Garfield, right here, right now. Wanted to feel his weight on top of you. The beads of sweat on his forehead to drop on your collarbones. You even wanted the ache that you knew the sunrise would bring, when you would have to leave him, and never come back.

This was the deal you made with yourself. Fair and square. The deal you’d rather die than break.

The car came to a complete stop unexpectedly. Everything was happening too fast for you to keep track, to fast for you to make smart decisions. After you handed the driver a fifty, you stumbled out of the car, pouring rain soaking your clothes through in a matter of seconds. As you stood in the street, taking in Andrew’s house, the taxi disappeared in the wake of the street, together with your last chance of getting away.

Andrew’s place was surprisingly immense, most of its walls plates of solid glass, illuminated from the inside. At least, he was home. This thought warmed up your chest and pushed you forward, your feet numb and cold. Your wet hair sticking to your face, your eyelashes heavy with water, you advanced, trying hard to make out the steps, leading to his door.

Your blouse and the suit you were wearing became heavy, as rain whipped you mercilessly, slapping your cheeks and shoulders. You couldn’t wait to take your clothes off, strip down to your underwear, to feel light again. But the minute you froze in front of his door, all the adrenaline seemed to evaporate off your body.

What the fuck are you doing here, you pressed your palms to your temples in desperation, as your mind tried to dominate over your heart one last time. He doesn’t love you. He never will. He…

“Y/N?!” the door to the house flew open all of the sudden, as you stood there, hugging yourself, trying to keep warm. Andrew, wearing grey sweats and a plain white t-shirt, let his eyes roam over your wet, cold body – his observation only lasted a second before he grabbed your arm and practically dragged you inside, closing the door. “What are you doing here? And at this hour?” his warm, rough hands cupped your face, as he looked down on you in disbelief. “I saw you get out of that cab… Come on, let’s get you warm,” he let go of your face and you almost whimpered, losing his heat. Walking right on the small puddles of water, formed by your dripping attire, he took your hand, leading you deeper into the house.

The living room he took you to was dim. He motioned towards the burning fireplace, as if telling you to move closer to it. With a look of concentration on his face, he disappeared behind bathroom doors, coming out with a towel in each hand. Before you could as much as clear your throat, he wrapped one of them around your shoulders, coming dangerously close.

You looked into his eyes, framed by impossibly long eyelashes. Chocolate, wrapped in black paper.

“Um, here, take this one, too”, he let go of you, handing you the second towel. He sat back next to you, watching you, obviously bewildered.

“Nice place you have here,” you commented in a low voice, looking around, clutching the soft towel close to your wet clothes. He didn’t answer, just kept looking at you, still amused at your nighttime visit. “Did I wake you?” you asked, your voice and body trembling.

“I’m going to get you a hot tea. Would you like that?” he rose back to his feet, ready to fetch the hot liquid. “You didn’t wake me,” he added, noticing your expectant stare. “I couldn’t sleep”.

“Neither could I…” you whispered to yourself, standing up. From the corner of your eyes you noticed shadows dancing on the walls of the room, as you moved towards him, the towel falling down at your feet… 

The only source of light in the room was the fireplace, so you could barely make out your surroundings. Rain dropped heavily on the ground outside, its pounding deafening now, as you stepped closer to the owner of the house.

Andrew’s eyes seemed so big and deep now, you could easily drown, their sparkling surface luring you in. He bit his lower lip slowly, looking at you, unblinking, trying to read you, trying to figure out what was on your mystery mind this time… You brought your cold fingers to his cheek, slowly stroking his skin… He knew what you wanted. He didn’t need to guess this time.

Your fingers caught sparks as he leaned his face into your palm, closing his eyelids. As you ran your other hand through his mane of soft brown hair, bringing him closer, so that your rugged breaths were mingling together, he opened his eyes. They were glassy, his irises indistinct… Looking like burning rooms filled with dense smoke. 

“Y/N, if I kiss you now…” he whispered, and you felt every letter he pronounced touch your lips. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop.”

Bare millimeters were separating your lips now. You felt your nipples harden at his words, and it startled you. He was watching you, letting you make the decision that would send you both in a place from which neither of you would be able to come back the people you were before. You would die before you’d let him know what a struggle it was, this balancing on the edge, and still appearing calm. You tried to move your hands, now settled on his broad shoulders, but they didn’t even tremble, as if tied to his body with invisible threads.

“Then… Don’t”, you could barely hear yourself say, before his lips found yours. It was there and then that you knew. You could play a million roles, turn hundred and fifty and visit every country in the world, nothing else would ever provoke that weightlessness in your stomach, that tantalizing soft sensation, grazing your mouth, that trembling in your knees… Nothing at all, but the masterful movements of his lips.

Andrew kissed you like there was no tomorrow, like now and here was all you had. His strong and gentle hands did not miss a millimeter of your skin, caressing your nape as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding along your lower lip, tasting you, conquering you little by little… Your hair came slipping in between your mouths, as he sucked on your lower lip, gently. You moaned as he buried his hands in your lush, soaked hair, pulling just enough for you to feel that spring tighten a little in your lower stomach. 

He opened your blouse slowly, twisting each button with his fingers, their tips dancing along your breastbone. Then, all of the sudden, his raw lips were gone, as he distanced himself, drinking you in with his eyes. Your blouse fell open, your underwear now showing. 

Your black lacy lingerie enhanced your femininity, while the hard, purely masculine suit denied it… Getting another torturous eyeful, Andrew leaned forward and kissed you again, with more fervor this time. He knew what he was doing as his mouth explored the valley in between your breasts, your heart beating frantically, making your whole body shudder under his kisses, his tongue skimming over your bones. His hands were now gripping your hips so hard, his fingers were sure to leave bruises the morning after, a sweet and painful reminder of what you’ve done.

You slipped the T-shirt he wore over his head, pressing your forehead against his immediately after, you fingernails scratching his naked chest. His kisses leaving burns along your jawline, he lifted you up easily, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. You heard him sigh as his hips crashed into yours, before he lowered you on the ground by the fire, hovering over you. So close… Your bodies were in sync, perfectly aligned now. You felt his heartbeat against yours, your ribcages being the only things separating them from becoming one. His hands slid down your thighs as he propped himself up, getting rid of your pants and underwear… You made short work of his sweatpants, kissing his torso, his taste forever engraved in your lips…

At last, he entered you, his lips grazing your earlobe as you closed your eyes, your soft breath dissolving into the heated air of the room. Pushing your knees up higher, he drove himself deeper into you, every thrust making the tingling inside of you grow. 

This was your love affair. Wordless, silky, flustered and seemingly eternal…

When you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, you came all around him, screaming his name, riding out your orgasm. You felt him ejaculate inside of you, right before the second wave of pleasure rolled over your body, making you bite his shoulder, your eyelids fluttering.

He kissed your eyes, watching your beautiful face. Then he pressed his lips to yours, this kiss unbearably fragile, an aftertaste of all the sensations combined… Under his weight you felt warm and protected and stoned… The feeling you’d trade for nothing in the world.

He rolled off you, careful not to crush you. His hands wrapped around your slick body, his lips placing a kiss on your sweaty forehead…

In that moment, you were infinite.

You both just lay there, listening to the raindrops, still crushing on the ground outside. You savored this moment, yet the emptiness in your chest was growing, no matter how far you tried to push it. Even if you knew what was coming, you still weren’t prepared for it.

Andrew’s breathing eventually became regular, as exhaustion closed his eyelids. He fell asleep, holding you in his arms. Tears accumulating in the corners of your eyes, you kissed him on the lips one last time, before carefully detangling yourself from his gorgeous warm body. 

You got dressed as quickly as you could, your clothes still wet and clinging to your skin. Grabbing his sweater, lying on the sofa, you threw it over your wet blouse. Picking your bag off the floor, you gave him one last look before walking out of his house, and out of his life, for good.

[soda-kpop]

Volleyball!NCT Dream AU

So I know I said that I couldn’t see Dream as a volleyball squad, but after watching a bit more of youth volleyball, I could see the Dreamies as a squad! 

Outsides: The big guns. These boys are all about the offense. The go-to attackers ready for any set, even off of a 1-point pass. Get the most sets and make the most errors, but their kills make up for any points lost

Mark Lee

I know what you're thinking, "you put mark at libero last time!" Well yes I did, but that was a completely different squad. With U/127, he would absolutely be the libero. With Dream, however, he would be an outside hitter. He is one of the most athletic members of the Dream team and they need his strength and power on the left pin to crush down balls. He is also one of the smartest players due to his experience. He's played the game for a long time and with that, his toolbox has expanded as well. Loves hitting the sharp angle when it's open. When he hits it, expect the largest, brightest smile. Most of the time he hits line though, it's away from the two main passers and if they play the rotations right, will take the setter out of the play. He serves a jump float when behind the line. In practices, he always works on his top spin serve, but always goes back to the trusty float. Since he is a libero on another squad, his passing ability is exceptional. Very rarely does this team get out of system and a large portion of that is thanks to Mark. Yes, the team may have its own libero in Chenle, but he doesn't have the experience playing as many elite teams as Mark has which is why Mark mentors Chenle. Mark takes his experience and shares it. He doesn't want the whole team revolving around him - after all, there is no I in team.

Lee Jeno

The definition of a power hitter (I MEAN HAVE YOU SEEN HIS ARMS LIKE JENO CALM THE FUCK DOWN.) During the drafting of this, I thought that he was maybe like the second most athletic on the dream squad but recent studies have shown that that's a lie. Jeno = power and that goes for wherever he is on the court. In the front, he very rarely uses off speed unless the opposition has been picking up his hammered balls. From the back line, he has a crazy top spin jump serve (that to be honest Libero!Chenle is afraid to return during practice.) From the back court, he loves running the BIC attack. That's his bread and butter. It's so exhilarating to just fly in behind the middle attacker and attack basically an open net, it gives him such a thrill. He's the fourth best passer on the team but that doesn't mean he's bad. He just has to complete with an outside who is a libero at heart, an opposite with libero training, and their actual libero for that title. Passing is more of an after thought to him (which is why he is still under Opposite!Haechan in passing.) He'd rather let Libero!Chenle take a ball in the back row so he can get in position for the combination play than getting eliminated from the play in the first touch. Off of the court, he is a total gym rat. He always want to head to the gym in order to get stronger. A man's gotta keep his vertical am I right?

Middle Blockers: Part 1 of the major defense of each team. Height and speed are needed, although height can be substituted for a mad vertical. Don't get set often but their efficiency is through the roof.

Park Jisung

So I almost put this tall boy as a setter, but after much deliberation, I placed him in the middle. Either way, this boy is gonna be aggressive. His favorite ball to hit is when his server just rips one over the net, forcing the overpass from the opponent, and he just slams the ball straight down. He gets so exhilarated every time it happens. Same goes for a stuff block. He turns off the net and everyone is pointing and screaming at him and he just basks in the glory. Definitely more of a blocking middle. He can get his kills don't get me wrong, but this kid is known for his blocking. He is first on the team! When hitting, he usually swing across his body deep into the 1 location. He usually has a high kill percentage when he hits here because either 1. the setter left early and no one is defending or 2. setters USUALLY don't like playing defense or aren't as skilled. When he gets into the service box, he serves a jump float. His height lets him get a good angle over the net, needing nothing but downward trajectory to send that ball curving towards the ground. He would probably be the only one to really mess with a short serve. The team can't help but baby the small giant despite the cries from Jisung. Jisung can't help but roast the squad despite the cries from his elders. It goes hand in hand to be honest.

Na Jaemin

So this little ball of sunshine is the other middle for the squad. He is definitely more of the attacking middle. Kills are big and flashy and he loves getting all of the attention that comes with it. Loves catching the side lines, especially the spot between locations 4 and 5, right in front of the libero. He loves testing the libero so much. Like any time he can beat them, it just adds a boost to his confidence. As for blocking, he is speedy getting to the pins and transitions well, almost too well. The exhaust he puts on his body often results in injury. When he is out, the team brings Middle!WinWin down to fill his spot. When Jaemin rotates to the back row, he serves a jump top spin but not with a lot of power. He is more focused on consistency than absolutely slamming the ball. You could have power but hit it right to them and be dug so easily. Placement is just as important. His pregame includes spending hours in the training room getting taped and his legs warmed. If anyone ever complains about soreness and pain, he always recommends his favorite remedies or methods of being taped. Is currently out due to injury and everyone loves and misses him. There are rumors he is joining the squad again and the hype could not be more real.

Right Side/Opposite: Swings from behind the setter. In charge of shutting down the outside attack, which is vital since the outside gets the most sets. Does not get set often but when they do, they usually terminate.

Lee Donghyuck (Haechan)

Like the U + 127 squad, Donghyuck would be the opposite hitter. In this team, he plays all 6 rotations defending the right side of the court. When he hits, he loves hitting line but it doesn't always go down. He's another one who loves testing the libero. Most of the time he will go cross though because that's where USUALLY the worst defenders on the court are, and often that's an easy kill. I say usually because it's not true all the time - even Haechan is an exception to this. He has libero training meaning he is quick and balanced. He knows his spots like the back of his hand and can deliver a perfect pass. He is very vocal on the team: calling open spots, how many blockers are up, and whether the setter is front row. Basically if anything is happening, Hyuckie is calling it out. He’d normally jump float serve but if they are up by a lot, he'd try a top spin serve. Has so much heart for the game, he'll go after anything. He sacrifices his body so much that he's basically Jaemin's pet. Uses 99% of Jaemin’s tape and patience. During practice, he is always asking when they are gonna do ball massages. "If I get three pancakes, can we do ball massages???" King of Pancakes, he calls himself as to him, there is nothing better. He jokes around with all the members but always reassures that he loves them with all his heart. 

Setter: In charge of spreading around the ball, allowing the offense to be run. Need nice hands to deliver a clean ball to any area of the court. Speed is also vital as location of the first contact varies especially when the level of play increases.

Huang Renjun

This little bean is the setter of the squad. I originally had him as a middle but instantly thought twice about it. This boy is so gentle and sweet, I could see him as a setter in a heartbeat. He would definitely be more about sharing the love than slamming a ball down. That doesn't mean he wouldn't be offensive as a setter though. If the pass is tight, don't be surprised to see Renjun slam the ball down. He likes to run a faster offense. If he could, he'd have the outsides hitting 3's, the middles running 1's, and the right side running I's all the time. 3's and I's aren't too common in the men's game however so he just settles for a faster set all the way to the pins. Him and Hyuckie will dabble with I's from time to time however. When he rotates to the back, he will serve a jump float so he can get to his base as soon as possible. He doesn't feel the need to score from behind the service line, just get it in. As far as defending, he's only really comfortable defending the opposite attack while in the back row. He really gets his defending going while blocking. Being able to shut down the strong pin just gives him such a confidence boost and you get to see his wonderful smile, it's great. I have a feeling he would be the team mom always carrying snacks and extra socks and knee pads. Very very responsible.

Libero: Have the best passing skill. Second part of the major defense team. Reserved as best receivers and servers. Height is not required as they don't play at the net. Liberos do not take up substitutions and they wear an off-colored jersey. Goes into the back row for the middle.

Zhong Chenle

My brother from another motherChenle would be the libero on this squad. He is so energetic and active, I think he would make such a nice libero. He would be fast moving to locations and can stop on a dime when the attack is about to start their swing. If the ball is not directly hit at him, you know he will dive for it every single time. He loves getting a one handed dig, just scooping up the ball with his forearms. If they win that point, he just kind of smuggly brushes the dust off his shoulder before he just shines the brightest smile. Not one to swing to much if they are out of system and he needs to send the third ball over. Watching this kid during warm ups would be so cute. Every time he gets a good hit, everyone will be cheering as loud as they can. Liberos can't serve in the men's game, but during practice he would serve a jump float for the same reason as Setter!Renjun. The faster he can get to his base, the better. He looks up to Mark so much as a libero. If Chenle has any questions, he will instantly go to Mark. He is quite young and questions he's abilities often, but the rest of the team frequently tells him how much of a good job he is doing. Every one wants to protect him, even the maknae. His cuteness is just contagious.

I hope I didn’t use too many volleyball terms where you can’t understand. If I did, please tell me so I can make a little guide!

So the format of these, I think, is getting better and better so I’m wondering if you guys would want me to rewrite some of my older, messier au’s! If you like that idea, message me or send me an ask!

NEXT: UP10TION & A.C.E.

Other Volleyball AUs: ASTRO | BTS | GOT7 | SEVENTEEN | GFRIEND | KNK | MONSTA X | NCT U+127 | SF9

[shirayuki-wisteria]

Dancing with Two Left Feet

Zenyuki Week, Day Five: Dance

Title: Dancing with Two Left Feet

Cotillion Arc Part II

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing in this fan-fiction except my horrible grammar and writing skills. All the characters or cities mentioned in this fan-fiction belong to Akiduki Sorata unless said otherwise. Any references to real people or places are purely coincidental.

Synopsis: A quick little snippet of Shirayuki having to learn to dance because she’s Zen’s escort for a party. (I recommend reading my prompt for Day Four: Secrets. This is kinda a squeal(?)) I was too lazy to actually write a summary to get anyone to read this, so…

Just don’t read this. It’s not really worth it, lol

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“Sorry!” Shirayuki apologised once again to her dance instructor, offering a small bow. Presently, she was taking dancing lessons from a professional to better get ready for the ball she was to attend with Prince Zen. Unfortunately, she kept hurting the poor man in numerous ways that shouldn’t even be possible while dancing.

Her unfortunate dance instructor was kneeling on one knee, both hands massaging his injured foot. “It-It’s okay, Shirayuki-san… Maybe we should take a break…?”

She clutched the hem of her dress as she nodded. “I’ll go get you a herbal remedy that could help you with your foot.”

True to her word, she set off in pursuit of the pharmacy.

Zen handed his paperwork to his faithful aide, Mitsuhide, before repositioning his royal cape. “That’s the last of it.”

Obi looked up from his perch on the window sill. “Are you going to see the Young Miss?”

His master gave him a stone-cold look before asking, “Where is she, anyhow?”

Kiki didn’t look up from her book as she answered, “She told me that she was taking more lessons on dancing from the same dance instructor that taught her before she went to Tanbarun.”

Before she had even finished, he was at the door, hand on the knob as he twisted it open. “See you all later, then! You know where to find me!”

The door shut behind him, his aides smirking as they stared at it.

If his memory served him well, he remembered that the room used for her instructing was in the east wing. His feet, though they’ve never travelled down this way before, found their way easily to the room in question. He knew it was the right room because he heard off-beat footsteps striding to a piano measure, accompanied every few seconds by a sharp “That’s my foot!”

A soft chuckle escaped his mouth as he envisioned what was happening in the room. He quietly opened the door and let himself in without catching either of their attention unawares, He took his seat on one of the numerous worn-down couches as he supported his elbow against its inside arm and propped his head down on his hand.

Watching her dance instructor trying to teach her how to dance really was amusing. She had no sense of rhythm, and unconsciously or not, she kept taking the lead during the dance. If she’d just follow his, she would be a perfect dancer, but Shirayuki being herself, she couldn’t be submissive.

When her dance tutor had all that he could take, he made a gesture for the pianist to stop and went to go take a seat, putting his weight on the heels of his feet rather than on his toes, which have no doubt been crushed throughout the sorry excuse for a dance.

“S-Sorry…” Shirayuki apologised, her head hung low. “You’ve been so patient, trying to teach me, but I don’t think I’m cut out for dancing…”

Despite his injuries, the tutor gave her a small smile. “You’re starting to get better then you were. For starters, you don’t have an iron grip like before. Now, it’s more light but strong enough to not lose your grip.”

He winced as he gently tried to put pressure on the injured areas of his foot. “Even so, I think I need to call it a day. Practice a bit more and I’m sure you’ll be a natural.”

A frown settled itself onto the red-haired herbalist’s face. “How can I practice if I don’t have a partner?”

Zen quickly got up from his spot on the couch. “If you’d like, Shirayuki-dono, may I be of some assistance?”

She turned around, her eyes widening in surprise. “Z-Zen?! I didn’t even know you were here!”

He gave her a sly smile. “That was the point, my dear.”

Before she could object his offer, he already had already put his hand in one of hers, the other wrapped around her waist as he guided her through the steps. Her free hand immediately clutched his shoulder as she tried her best to follow.

The King of Clarines now strolled around the castle, stretching his arms as he did so. Sitting at his desk all day made his muscles stiff and sore, so his solution was to send all his aides off on individual errands as he took a much needed break.

He stopped and froze in his tracks, a piano measure echoing down the hall and reaching his ears. He suddenly remembered that he was in the East Wing; the wing that Shirayuki was assigned to during her lessons to better prepare her for Tanbarun. She must be taking more lessons to help her dance at the ball, He surmised. Poor dance instructor… he doesn’t get paid enough.

As if by their own volition, his feet started taking long strides towards the direction of the room used for her dance lessons. He reached it in no time, stopping right in front of the door. He was about to knock and ask to come in, but he was distracted by the window. Shirayuki, as always, was a klutz and managed to completely go off-beat from the pianist’s music. He had to purse his lips together to suppress a laugh, not wanting to give way to his presence. After having all he could take, the dance instructor sat down on one of the numerous couches. Guessing from the expressions Shirayuki was making, he was telling her that they should call it a day.

A glint of silver hair caught his eye, and he swiftly apprehended that Zen was quietly watching from afar. Perhaps from seeing Shirayuki’s troubled expressions, he got up from his seat and made his way to her. Surprise crossed the young redhead's face for a split second before the Second Prince started leading her through the steps, slowly at first but eventually picking up speed as it went on.

Izana realised that it wasn’t expertise Shirayuki was lacking; it was chemistry. Unlike when she was dancing with her dance instructor, her steps matched Zen’s perfectly, her body swaying to the rhythm of the music. Watching them, it felt like they were on an entirely different planet; unreachable. As if there was no one in the world but the two of them.

Before he knew it, he had opened the door so quickly that it caught the two of them unawares. He blinked, knowing his cover was blown.

“Lord Brother!” Zen finally managed to utter out, his eyes widening. “W-What are you doing here?”

The king averted his eyes, thinking about a good explanation to use. “I merely heard beautiful music and wanted to know the reason behind it. I never thought the two of you would be dancing, however.”

Shirayuki began to turn a deep shade of red, not courageous enough to meet his eyes. “I was learning dance lessons from my dance instructor, but unfortunately, managed to hurt him in the process. Zen was kind enough to offer to stand in for him and helped me to dance better. Sorry if I took any time away from you by doing this.”

Izana waved her off. “It’s quite all right. In fact, I have a proposal for the both of you.”

The two of them shared a look of confusion before giving him a cautious look. “Exactly what proposal would that be?” “Why don’t I give Zen more free time to use for teaching you how to dance?” He directed the question to Shirayuki. “It seems like Zen can teach you more than your dance instructor ever could, form the looks of it.”

Zen’s eyes widened. “R-Really?! You’d let me do that?”

The king’s gaze remained indifferent. “I don’t see why not. After all, we don’t want her making a mockery out of Clarines, do we?”

Shirayuki’s eyes gleamed happily as she gave him a wide smile. “Thank you so much!”

The dance teacher was all too happy to have her taken off his hands, gladly resigning his position as her teacher. He gave Zen a quick summary of everything Shirayuki was good or bad at, what she needed most to improve, and the list of songs they’ve practiced with so far. With that being done, the Second Prince could take the young redhead under his wing to tutor.

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That’s it for today! Tomorrow, I’ll upload the third (and last) part to the Cotillion Arc for day six of Zenyuki week! Please keep an eye out for it! ( ^ ~ ^ )

[psycho-ambrose-blog]

Uninvited. {Dean Ambrose}

Summary: Housesitting for Dean had its perks, his house was beautiful, quiet and relaxing when it came to studying compared to your dorm or the lecture hall. However, your friends convince you to throw a party at his bachelor pad only to have Dean crash the party. Warning: Smut. Smut. Smut. Masterlist: Here

You swung open the craftsman style French doors, carrying in a 24 pack of beer while your friend followed behind. "Please don't touch anything." You warn her as you both make your way into the sleek polished kitchen. "Who is this guy again?" She asks, in awe of how massive his home is compared to the claustrophobic dorm the two of you share. Setting the beer on the glossy marble that was isolated from the steel double-door refrigerator you open the case, taking two bottles at a time. "Some wrestler my mom does physical therapy for." You reply, aligning the bottles into the vacant fridge he rarely ever used. "Mind if I use the restroom, or do I need to take out a loan?" She smirks. A small smile curves at your lips. "Down the hall to the right." She returns your smile, waiting for you to turn your back to her before prowling through the bachelor pad. You're too busy loading bottle after bottle to be aware of how long your friend is gone for, the thoughts of throwing a party at a house that isn't even yours and what could go wrong is distracting her disappearance. You mentally lecture yourself that it's not a party, it's a small gathering between 10 friends. Not to mention the fact that your social group is mature enough to respect Dean and his household. "Oh my god!" Your friend squeals, trotting from the second level floor. "He has rubbers! And they are opened." Mortified, you snatch the box from her grip. "Where did you get these?!" "I got lost finding the restroom and ended up in the master." she shrugs unapologetically. "You went into his room?!" You shout, rushing upstairs to Dean's occupied space. You look mentally unstable examining every region and crevice of his massive master suite. "Do you know if he's proscribed to any Xanax? I think you need one" You friend retorts, watching you ping-pong from one side of the room to the next. You give her a longing glare before putting the condoms back in their rightful spot in his bedside drawer. "Have you ever thought about sleeping with him?" She snickers. "Enough." You say, bluntly annoyed with her comments. She giggles at your irritated response before plopping down on his King-sized bed. "C'mon, I bet he could show you a few wrestling moves" She taunts. "Would you get up. You're gonna leave an imprint!" You tell her sternly before pulling her off and smoothing out the wrinkles. "Would you stop being so uptight?!" She declares. "I wouldn't be so uptight if you would stop being to immature." You retort, guiding her out from the bedroom and shutting the door. "No one is to come near this bedroom or anywhere else for that matter. We are strictly staying in the kitchen and outside on the patio. Are we clear?" "Crystal." ______ It's 30 minutes until midnight and as the night only aged, more unwelcome bodies made themselves attentive. You pushed through people from the patio making a beeline into the kitchen to find your friend. Your jaw nearly falls to your knees when you spot her and a group of frat boys doing shots from the liquor cabinet Dean stocked up on. It was only worse when the crowd chanted around them that made your objections unable to be heard. The echo of something expensive hits the floor that snaps your attention away from the rally and you immediately rush to the living room. "You broke Mitch!" You nearly scream at the intoxicated guys who had shoved each other over who controlled the music, knocking over Dean's beloved plant. You scoop up the remains into the broken pottery frantically until the whole room goes silent. Your gut falls dramatically when you see the rugged wrestler speechless in his own home. He had grown a beard since the last time you saw him, and his trucker hat didn't fail to hide the rage look on his face. "Out." He says sternly. With one word, everyone is scrambling their way past him before he erupts. It takes a good minute or so for the crowd to clear only to display empty solo cups, opened liquor bottles, and the soil spread across the floor from Mitch. He hasn't moved from his spot nor has he made eye-contact with you. It's completely silent despite his fingers that were drumming against his collarbone. "Dean I-" "Sit." He orders, interrupting you. You immediately obey as your knees folded from under you and plopping against the couch. He brings his finger to his lips, gritting his teeth when he spots the liquor cabinet unfastened. Taking his other hand, he slides his hat off and ruffles his hair as he makes his way to the couch across from you. "May I?" He juts his chin towards the unopened beer that was starting to form a ring around the mahogany coffee table. You swallow hard, nodding your head. He twists open the bottle taking a big swig of it. "Guess you forgot to invite me." He mutters lightening the conversation but all you could anticipate was the fit he was about to throw. You roll your lips between your teeth, bouncing your leg anxiously. He sits across from you while fiddling with the bottle between his fingers gnawing at the skin on his lower lip. "You broke my plant." "I didn't break the plant" You mumble with your head hung low. He chuckles dryly, finishing off his beer. "You gotta a lot nerve." You try to formulate any sort of apology but all that comes out is a stuttering mess. "I-I will have all of this clean up an-and I will pay for the da-damages, I'm so sor-sorry Dean." You arise from your position to begin cleaning. "Sit down, (Y/N)." He says harshly. You fall back onto the couch by your orders, fixing the hem of your distressed t-shirt dress that stopped above your knees. Dean watches you toy with your dress nervously, swallowing hard when you cross your legs uncomfortably. "You crossed your boundaries throwing a party in my household." "I'm sorry.." You mutter quietly. "You let college kids parade and purloin alcohol that comes out of my pocket." He remarks. Your words wouldn't remedy the situation no matter how differently you put it, you look like a dog with its tail tucked between its legs. "On some small level, I feel as if you owe me for disrespecting me so exquisitely" he says darkly. There's an awkward silence between the both of you before he cuts the tension with the word, "Strip." Your eyes flicker to his, almost as if you didn't hear him correctly. "Strip, now." He repeats. There's a dull ache between your legs when you hear the word roll off his tongue. Your legs wobble from under you as you arise from the couch while Dean slumped back. You peal the material off painfully slow to display the grey lace thong and black bra you had hiding underneath. Dean's lips purse at the view of your curves, palming at his bulge. "C'mere" He beckons with the flick of his finger. You saunter over to him stopping when your knee is touching his. He snakes his rough hand to the smooth of your waist, luring you in his embrace. You straddle his leg resting your hand over his bulge that was aching against his zipper. "May I?" You ask, your face inches away from his you could feel his uneven breath hitting your cheek. "Look at you, finally askin' for permission." He smirks rubbing the arch of your ass before striking his hand against your skin. You hiss at the stinging sensation only to have it interrupted by his lips colliding with yours roughly. He swings your opposite leg over his lap now straddling over him as your tongue fondles with his between sloppy kisses. You roll your hips against his, grinding against his dick that was still criminally covered. A gritty moan erupts from his mouth nipping at your lower lip while his hands find their way to your breasts. Your hands are doing their own work finally tearing his jeans open and tugging them down with his boxers. You both are impatient with eager hands and being in a restless position for so long Dean takes it among himself to tear your thong from your body, disbanding it on the floor. He situates your petite frame against the couch while he climbs over you, stamping open mouthed kisses along your neck. You toy through his matted curls gasping when you feel his length brush between your thighs. You dip your head back allowing him to take advantage of the vacant space where he sucks harshly against the side of your neck. He's teasingly massaging his tip against your soaking entrance with your legs wrapped around his built waist. Without warning, he sinks inside of you and immediately groans at the tight sensation. "Fuck" his voice vibrates against your neck while formulating a quick rhythm, ramming into you over and over. His plunging patterns are leaving you breathless, your nails clawing at his back muscles that are mockingly flexed. "Dean, fuck, oh fuck." You whimper, digging against his muscles. His hisses at the mixture of clenched friction inside of you and the scratching you are doing against his back, none the less turned on by both. His slithers his hand between your thighs kneading your swollen clit as his thrusts become more barbarous. "Y'gonna fucking cum for me, huh?" His voice is coated with anticipation as your walls contract around his length. "Fuck, Dean." You whine, pulling at his curls. "C'mon, cum for me baby." He pleads, rubbing harshly at your overstimulated pussy that constructs you through an orgasm. It wasn't long until Dean was following you into a panting mess as he was pulling out from your entrance and stroking himself above your stomach. The warm spurts gushed along your stomach as Dean let you a breathless moan when he came. His fringe stuck to his forehead when he looked down at your stomach, content with the mess he made. "You.." He panted, smirking. "You have yet another mess to clean."