#only for buck to come back and act as usual except he's tad bit more touchy like leaning towards bucky a bit more

[alienoresimagines]

Bucky: We need to talk. Buck: Why? Bucky: You kissed me. Buck: Yes, I did. Bucky: Should we... I mean, there's a discussion that we could have... if you wanted to have one? Buck: Fine. I kissed you, with tongue, and I plan to do it again. Bucky: ... Okay. Bucky: Would now be an appropriate time for you to make good on that promise?

[gremlingottoosilly]

Under the Christmas tree [dark!141 x fem!Reader] (Secret Santa fic)

Secret Santa gift for @crash-and-live 141 had a wonderful time taking their combat medic to be their captive barracks bunny instead. Now, the Sergeants have decided you will make a wonderful gift for their COs. CW and Tags: Dub-con, poly!141, inappropriate celebration of Christmas, power imbalance, bondage, slight BDSM.

Gaz was always an expert on knots. 

Fancy little ribbons and bows – not so much. He prides himself on being suspiciously quick to adapt to the changing environment, yes, but learning how to tie bows when your little captive is acting just a tad bit dismissive towards the whole idea is…hard. Not as hard as hanging down the rope on a moving helicopter, but…

— Come, luv. Stop strugglin’ 

He smiles, all teeth and no lies, when you – his favorite medic, the best thing ever happening to this bloody team – started meowling something about the circulation and cutting off the bloodstream and how you don’t exactly like not only being held in the basement of the base but also being tied up…he looks at you and just knows he can’t resist booping you on the nose, kissing your perfect fuckin cheeks while Soap already has his hands in your hair, gently brushing it to put even more ribbons and bows. Red, just like on a Christmax gift. 

You’re a bloody gift. 

— I ken ye don’t like sittin’ like this, but Lt needs pick me up, aye? 

Soap smiles when you struggle just a bit more, your tied hands brushing against his stomach as you slowly buck your hips back. Trying to get just a tiny bit of stimulation, sneaky little lass – this is why he loves you, so smart and so adorably dumb at the same time. The best thing that ever happened to them is that you still act like you don’t enjoy being their shared chewing toy. They can agree it’s just a bit of a stretch from your previous working environment but hell, at least you’re not being shot at. Johnny’s hand gently moves from your head to your neck, adjusting the little red bow he made from the ribbons. They tried so hard to find the softest ever ribbons without a sharp edge and material that could cut off the circulation – even though Kyle was still doing his favorite knots that rendered you absolutely defenseless. You lick your lips and try to rock from side to side, making the ribbons a bit more loose – it doesn’t work, of course. Not like your team ever wanted you to have a say in their perverse desires, right? 

You fell into the Stockholm syndrome quite easily, especially since they were so stuck on always respecting your wishes(except for letting you out, of course) and never forcing anything too harsh…up until now, apparently. Making sure you’re on your best behavior because it’s Christmas, they have a small table set up – beer, whiskey, some snacks that you naively put on because you’re still not allowed to cook, and they don’t really care for home-cooked meals – and your shaking form, twisted in a somewhat sexy pose all because they needed a little Christmas present for their CO’s. 

Gaz brushes his hand on your tummy, gently pushing it down – you were prepared, of course, so much lube was out in your glossy folds, with Soap’s mouth buried deep between your legs, until you felt you’re going to pass out from the sheer amount of orgasm he was edging out of you. There is a reason why Johnny isn’t allowed to eat you out when Ghost isn’t around – his self-control is non-existent when push comes to your cunt and the tongue he can shove in. 

You feel like you’re going to burst when you finally hear the door opening. When you finally hear Captain – his tired, gruff voice, the way Ghost’s jacket silently hits the ground as they start to undress. Usually, you’re made to greet them with kisses and your soft lips on their cocks if they feel particularly tired. Usually, you’re made to wait for them in the bedroom, with their sergeants gently playing with you because, of course, you’re the property of all four of them, no matter the power dynamic. 

Nothing is usual now – you’re laying under a Christmas tree, naked and aroused, your pussy is all puffy and swollen from Soap’s tongue, your body is tied up with red ribbons Gaz was using. You want to be good for them, and so you lay here, hoping your obedience will be enough for a few more climaxes. Ghost is the first to put his hands on you. 

Kneading your breasts, gently forcing his rough fingers on your exposed nipples, you’re so sweet for him, so perfect, laid out like a beautiful gift – he can only groan in arousal as he slowly pushes the ribbons from your chest, taking in the view of your hardened buds and bite marks – evidence of Kyle taking his mark while he was tying you up. You might have been apprehensive about the whole idea, but you’re playing the role of a gift perfectly – just like you should. 

— Bloody hell, love. So pretty for us. 

— She was such a good girl for us, Lt. Didnae even resisted much. ~ — Is that right, sweetheart? 

You can only nod, your mouth stuffed with a pretty gag – you’re drooling all around it, looking fucking adorable as you try and look as harmless as possible. No reason to provoke them now when they already made it clear just how many orgasms they are going to take from you tonight. 

Ghost smiles under his mask, his hands moving to play with your lower tummy, squeezing the soft flesh and teasing your folds – you’re soft and pliable for them, spread out like a perfect toy. The most desirable thing they could ever find under a Christmas tree.

Price caresses your face with a softness you didn’t know a man of his position could have. He kisses you, and his whiskers tickle your soft skin – you aren’t sure if you can even handle him being so damn gentle about everything. He laughs as you try to wiggle out of Ghost’s grasp, their hands laying on your body – bruises and marks are scattered across your skin, making you the perfect canvas. Gosh, you’re beautiful – John doesn’t even know what they did to deserve such a little treat. — Such a pretty display for us, eh? 

— Sergeants outdid themselves this time. 

— You bet they did. Are you goin’ to behave for us, love? 

Price smiles when you whimper, spreading your legs like a pretty toy. Ghost already pushing you to the ground, forcing his way in between your thighs – you’re so open for them, vulnerable to the tip of his cock pressing in your folds already. Soap did a good job eating you out, even Simon’s cock won’t be too much – not after the way Gaz was spreading you on three of his fingers, smiling with each of your little attempts at moans. You know the night is going to be long.

[afriendlyblackhottie]

could you please write about big dick daddy chris spitting into the reader’s mouth as a punishment after she said a bad word infront of him? 😳

Bad Words (Language)

Summary: Reader’s been acting like a brat all day and Chris isn’t going to put up with that behavior.

Pairings: daddy!Chris Evans x brat!Reader

Warnings: Smut, daddy kink, dubcon (better safe than sorry), spitting in mouth, throat fucking, creampie, dirty talk, degradation

(A/N: okay. This one got a little wild. Thank you for this anon because I really enjoyed writing it. Um tbh I’m a little drunk right now so if you see mistakes 🤷🏾‍♀️ I guess I’ll fix them in the morning. Reblog. Love you guys 💜 ✌🏾 )

Tagging: @titty-teetee @queenoftheworldisdead @zaddychris @olyvoyl @donutloverxo @liquorlaughslove @mariahthelioness29 @hqneyyincc (I can’t remember the rest lmao I should just copy paste but I’m trying to do it al in one go I’m sorry 😭)

——————————————————————————

“What did you just say to me?”

He was holding your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his. His jaw was clenched, nostrils flared. You’d fucked up and you knew that.

Chris normally wouldn’t have cared if you said a bad word. You had a little potty mouth. Sometimes he’d have to remind you to be more polite even, but you liked how the words felt coming out of your dumb baby mouth.

The only thing you knew you weren’t allowed to do was swear at him. You didn’t normally fight. Usually any kind of disagreement would be squashed before it could blow up. Except tonight you’d been acting especially bitchy.

Making snarky little remarks, ignoring him when he spoke to you, even telling him no when he said it was time for bed. Which brought him to the last straw. You’d calling him a fucking asshole and that’s when he realized he needed to squash this behavior out now.

“No- nothing,” you stuttered out, trying to look down. Trying to make yourself look all innocent by fluttering those lashes.

You had this pout on your lip. Normally that got you out of these messes. Normally Daddy would take one look at your cute little lip and give you one of those nice big kisses you loved so much.

Except the damage had been done and there’d be no coming back. He put his hand on your neck, squeezing just enough to where you knew he meant business. “Don’t you ever talk to me like that okay. You fucking hear me?”

Your eyes were welling up with tears because you’d never made your daddy this mad before. All you could do was nod.

“I said do you fucking hear me. Use your words,” he demanded, squeezing a tad harder.

“I hear you,” you whimpered out.

He rolled his eyes. “Open your mouth.” You nodded just wanting to listen to him as you did. Not wanting to make things worse. As he spit into it you almost cried. “This is my fucking mouth you hear me?”

You nodded before forgetting what had just happened when you hadn’t spoke. “Yes, Daddy.”

“See isn’t it better when you’re a good girl for Daddy?” He said, shoving you down to the floor. He quickly pulled down his sweats so you’d get the hint. “Look at me.”

You did as told opening your mouth wide again waiting for him to shove his dick down your throat. Instead he spit into it again.

And then he shoved his dick down your throat.

He got a good grip in your hair to help you move back and forth. At this point you’d done this so many times and yet you felt like you could never really handle it. That didn’t make you not obsessed with it, though.

Your eyes were still stinging from how you almost cried when he had his hand against your throat. You really should have known better. Even the best Daddy in the world had a breaking point. You’d just finally found it.

You coughed and sputtered around him. Your slobber covering his dick and your face. It really was what you’d deserved after what you’d said.

“See look at you,” he said. “Where you fucking belong. On your knees pleasing me. You like pleasing, Daddy?”

You nodded. “Uh huh.” Was all you could say considering he hadn’t pulled you off of him.

“C’mere,” he said yanking you to your feet and not caring when you said ow with a yelp. “Shut up.” But, he still let go, grabbing your arm instead.

He kicked off his sweats before pulling you towards the bedroom. Your skin suddenly feeling itchy in your sleep clothes. You wanted him to rip them off of you.

“Daddy!” You gasped as he pushed you on the bed. He didn’t even wait for you to get comfortable before pulling you down so your head was hanging off. “H-“

You were cut off when he decided to push into mouth again. You choked around him trying to smack his thighs to let you up, but he didn’t. His balls slapping against your face with each thrust. You tried to relax. All you could do at this point was accept your fate.

Finally he did, helping you up. Tears were streaming down your face and he wiped your face. He kissed your forehead gently.

Then pushed you back on the bed. This time making sure your ass was stuck up on the bed. Presenting your pretty pussy from behind.

He tugged your shorts down your legs until they were resting above your knee. He rubbed you pussy with his cock. Teasing your lips.

You hands had pulled the comforter up in your fists. The anticipation was killing you. Nothing good came from this position. Well, orgasms duh, but you really knew you were in for a rough fucking when he had you like this. Head down ass in the air while he stood.

He rubbed your clit and you bucked your hips. You were so sensitive. Your breathing was so heavy. You knew he was about to hurt your pussy so good.

As soon as he pushed into you felt like you’d been fucked stupid. All you new was him and his big fucking dick. Stretching you over him.

“Oh,” you couldn’t say anything else.

He pulled out of you ever so gently. So gently like maybe you’d gotten away with it. You knew you were wrong because the next one he gave you was so deep and invasive. The way he pulled out only to slam back in making you bury your head into the bed.

You could feel him in your guts and there was nothing you could do about it. Not that you wanted to. As much as it hurts it get so good.

His hand wrapped around your neck again. His other on his hip as he slammed you down along his length. The same length that was scraping along that special spot in you.

“Can I cum?” You asked because he’d you didn’t want to piss him off even more.

He smacked your ass. “Do it. Cum for me.”

With his permission you did. Eyes rolling to the back of your head. He made you tilt your head back so he could look into your eyes. He was able to spit in your mouth again from his angle and there was nothing you could do to stop him.

Your hand was clenching your breast, pinching your nipple. You needed the friction so bad. It started to feel like your orgasm would never end. The aftershocks alone were driving you insane.

“Thought you could be a bitch and I wouldn’t say anything,” he pounded into you as he spoke. You screamed out into the air. At this point your juices were soaking him. “Bet you’ll never pull that shit again, huh.”

“No,” you cried. “I’m sorry.”

“I know you’re sorry. Daddy had to teach you a lesson first.”

Your eyes were so glazed over. Then the way he was moving you just couldn’t stop it as you came for a second time. Sobbing as he looked down you with a smirk, “Daddy!”

“That’s it. That’s it.” He started grunting. The feel of your pussy tightening around him like that was bringing him close. “I’m gonna cum in you baby. Want Daddy,” he stopped to hiss, “to cum inside your pussy, Baby?”

You nodded.

“Use your fucking words.”

“Yes!” You yelled as those tears streamed down your face.

Seeing you like that was enough. He’d shoved himself all the way in then started giving you shallow thrusts as he came, coating your walls in his thick white seed. He gave you every bit.

Finally when he finished, he kissed your head before letting you go. You flopped down onto the bed trying to catch your breath. He pushed in one more time before finally pulling out.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, getting in beside you.

You clearly were not moving on your own anytime soon so he helped you onto the bed and into his arms. He kissed your head once, twice, then a third time as he held you tightly.

“It’s okay,” he said, rubbing your back. “Daddy’s got you.”

You nodded. Still not able to say anything. Your throat was definitely going to be sore in the morning.

He sighed. “How about we take a quick shower and then I’ll make you some tea?”

You nodded, but didn’t budge. He went back to kissing your forehead until you were ready to get up. At least you’d won about not going to bed on time.

[constantlyunlightening]

Shoto NSFW Headcannons

I got some fun and naughty headcannons here for our boy, Icy Hot!

I dont even know if anyone was looking for these but Horikoshi made Todoroki such a character.

Is he being a little shit, or is his head empty? Is it both?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Beats me but makes for some fun ideas. I’m half tempted to make a kinkier version of this if anyone is interested. :)

Click read more, only if you’re 18 years or older.

First thing, first, we’re talking about a 20+ year old Shoto here. He’s older now. He knows about sex and, while he isn’t a player, he isn’t exactly shy about it.

He’s actually pretty indifferent about it. At least, when he’s not interested in someone.

But when he’s into you, his thoughts on sex change a bit.

He likes the physical contact of it - of being close to someone he cares about. Of being close to someone who cares about him.

Boy’s more than a tad bit touch starved growing up in the household that he did.

So once Shoto started to touch you a little at the beginning of your relationship, it snowballed into a whole lot. Arms wrapping around your shoulders or your waist, leaning up against you while you’re busy with a task, hand holding, his hand resting on your knee or your thigh when you sit together, resting his head on your lap, the whole deal. And then, of course, sex.

Sex for the first time with you was a lot about Shoto finding your limits and boundaries. He’s seen the aftermath of being shitty to your significant other and he refuses to create a situation like that. He’s always careful with you, and sex is no exception.

Honestly, sex at first is a little too slow. Not boring by any means but, damn, Shoto, could you speed it up a little?

“You can go a little faster.” Your voice was verging on a pathetic whine as Shoto held your legs up in the air, driving each inch of his cock into you - inch by single fucking inch. Feeling that slow stretch in you was absolutely delightful, sure, but those slow ins and outs could only create so much of a build up. After each painfully slow thrust, you started to adapt. You couldn’t be satisfied by this teasing, mot when your body was clamping down and trying to suck him in deeper and deeper. You needed more and you needed it now. And if the way Shoto was throbbing inside of you was any indicator, he did too.

Your words had him pausing, halfway speared into that sopping hole of yours, and eyes of ocean and shadow were locked onto you with a heat so real you almost thought he was using his quirk.

You thought he was going to tip. You were prepared for him to pound into you any second now but he just stayed still, hands sliding over the curve of your bare thighs as he pondered over your words. Did he somehow forget what you were in the middle of? Why was he taking so long?

“Shoto?”

“How fast?” His voice finally broke out in a low octave that had your body automatically clenching. Oh, but that tone of his would be oh-so-better if he was drilling into you already.

“What? Just… faster than what you’re doing,” you assured him, your hips trying to buck back onto him but unable to push past the steel grip he suddenly had on your legs compared to the gentle caressing. And before you could pester further, a tiny cry of a sound escaped you because Shoto had answered your request and was slamming into you with enough force to crash the headboard against the wall. Over and over the sound echoed in the room around you as your body got the onslaught it was craving.  

Your eyes were starting to roll back into your head when you heard him grunting out his next words - “-like this?” One more sharp thrust that drilled right into your center and he paused, letting his head stretch that part deep inside of you with the way he stilled. Your whimper escaped you just as he settled on a new pace that was, once again, much too slow for your needy body. “Or like this?”

“Shoto- just fuck me, already-”

“Be specific, baby.”

The rest of the session went like this too. Best believe he asks a lot of questions, especially in the beginning.

“Want me to go harder, baby? Deeper?"

"Where does it feel good?”

“Want to cum again?”

Hopefully you don’t get shy easy because he’s looking for specifics. He wants to know your boundaries, your limits and how to make you feel so, so good.

He’s going to learn you inside out. What makes you tick. What makes his baby feel better than anything. What makes them crawling back for more.

He’ll make you answer every single one of his questions with your body and your words and you better believe he’ll be fishing for the most erotic answers he can get out of you.

Oh, and if you do get embarrassed from his onslaught of naughty questions?

Good.

You’d never be able to tell from his usual poker face but he absolutely loves getting you flustered.

At some point, he’ll know exactly what your body needs to get off without asking questions. But if he knows if gets you all shy for him, he’ll ask anyway and play dumb.

Ever notice how Shoto lowkey says and does things to get under peoples’ skin? (i.e. almost every interaction he has with Bakugo)

Best believe he’s going to be doing stuff to tease you on the down low all the time.

And the worst part is, you probably won’t even know if he’s teasing you or not.

The whole Todoroki family has a similar theme of making you wonder “are they sarcastic? Or are they clueless?”

Shoto is no exception to this rule and his poker face is spot on.

He’ll tease you in public all the time too.

Wait until after a session of sex when you’re walking around in public a little funny.

“… Are you alright? You’re walking different.”

You won’t know if he’s being serious or if he seriously does not realize the effects of blowing someone’s back out.

He’ll be amused no matter how you react, but don’t worry, he’ll help you wobble yourself to the nearest bench like he’s your hero and not the reason you gait is off.

The bedroom isn’t off limits for his poker face but it’s a little more merciless.

Two digits dance on your tongue as Shoto looks down at you, letting his fingers tease your mouth while his other hand has his length pressing against your opening. “Come on. Tell me where you want this cock. I want to hear it from you.”

You could of glared at him, the way his tip poked against you without ever actually entering. He knew damn well where you wanted it, but he never once seemed any less serious as he repeated his question. The first time he had asked, you declared he knew what you were after and that response had these fingers curled into your mouth as a punishment. And now, even as he continued to prod against you, when you tried to actually answer his question, that’s when his fingers would dip down just enough to get you to muffle your words. Your answer was lost to his touch and an almost sympathetic look was tossed your way as Shoto quirked a brow.

“That’s not an answer.” This time he moved just enough to get his head dipped inside of you and just as quick, he was pulling right back out, leaving you to try and get out more protest through your makeshift voice muffler. That’s when you saw just the tiniest bit of a smile move onto the lips of your lover as he leaned down, lips grazing your ear. “Try saying it again for me?”

Speaking of teasing, Shoto is a brat

I’ll write anyone as a switch, but Shoto is a particularly good bratty dom

Meaning, he’s a dom who will purposely say or do something to get you into a spot that he can take advantage of. (With consent, of course).

He acts up a little to get you to act up.

He’ll let you steal his food but then kiss you because he decided he “changed his mind” and actually, “he’s hungry”

He’s also the type to hide your clothes for a bit and when you end up putting on any of his stuff, he’ll declare he needs it back right that second and he’ll help you get out of it.

All with a completely straight face.

“Shoto, are you serious right now?’

"Why wouldn’t I be? I need that shirt for today. Come here.”

One time, you two had a disagreement and you decided to give him a blow job as an “apology” and he has not let it go.

Obviously, he’d never force you to do something you didn’t want to but now when you say sorry, he’ll jokingly bring it up.

Is he really joking with that poker face though?

“I’m sorry, Shoto.”

“Yeah? Show me then.” *proceeds to motion to crotch*

Don’t worry. He won’t actually make you and he’ll forgive you regardless.

However, if you wanted too, then~

Hes not going to say no.

He likes it when sex is a bit heated and emotion fueled too.

He’s poker faced but very emotional (remember the time when Shoto got upset with his dad then proceeded to freeze half of a stadium?) and whiles he’s gotten better at handling his emotions now that he’s an adult, he still got lots of them, baby!

Is he feeling particularly loving? Then, if you end up having sex that day, expect some real passionate and sweet love making.

Is he irritated? Hard, fast and maybe a little bit rougher than he should be - he tried so hard to keep himself under control but he just got a bit too aggressive.

Feeling competitive? Oh, maybe you used that pretty little “make me” taunt and he is going to do just that. He takes it as a challenge and he has not lost his competitive spirit!

Along with him being competitive, keep in mind that if you give him oral, he’s going to return the favor as best he can and he’s going to try to make you cum more than he did, if possible.

He does have that pro-hero stamina though, so usually? It’s very possible.

Expect jealous sex too!

Shoto honestly didn’t even think he could get jealous but turns out when guys flirt with you, he absolutely does.

He trusts you completely and isn’t ever going to act out against you for it. He knows even if a guy does flirt with you, it’s one sided and you aren’t about to leave him. He won’t do much more in public than maybe wrap his arm around you, call you baby more, try and lowkey get the attention back on him. Nothing too insane.

It’s when you guys get home (or in private in general) when he decided to show up for you - let you know that he knows you better than anyone. He can make you feel better than anyone.

You were all of two whole steps into the door way when Shoto had his hands on your waist and was yanking you into your home, kicking the door behind you and then pinning you against it. Lips crashed down onto yours before you could get in a word and his hands were already trailing up your shirt, grazing over and up your sides. He was kissing you like a man straved and you were the first meal he had seen in weeks.

You tried to squeak out his name, hands tugging at the fabric of his shirt and causing his grip on you to tighten, squeezing at your body once he slipped his hands back doen to the swell of your hips. He was going to leave some finger tip bruises on you if he wasn’t careful, but you had an inkling that making marks was exactly what he was going for. Finally his lips were tugging off yours, but only to venture down your jaw and the column of your throat. “Shoto, whats gotten into you?” You finally manage as heat seeps it way to your skin and you tip your head back against the door.

He was a hero but the way his kisses and nips felt over you was criminal.

“He wanted you, you know.” Shoto spoke out in low vibrations against your skin, referencing the guy who had been flirting with you while you were out earlier. It wasn’t an accusatory tone, but it was spoken more like a simple fact before he tugged away and let his gaze connect with yours.

For a moment, as his eyes searched yours, you were reminded of a small animal that was craving attention; it was like he was asking for it when he looked at you like that. There was an urge to reach out and pet him, to coo sweet nothings and assurance into his ear and you would have, if he wasn’t already sinking down to his knees and you felt heat spike up into your core. “But I don’t want him. I only want you.”

“I know that.” Those puppy dog eyes were gone in the moment as he was knelt in front of you and already undoing the pants you wore with quick finesse. You swallowed slowly, feeling adrenaline kick up in your veins as he tugged them, and you underwear, down and away, his focus unwavering from the goregous sight before him - you. “That just happened to remind me how lucky I am,” his hand slipped over you rear until it tucked just under your thigh and he popped you up onto one leg as he got this one around his shoulder. Your back hit up against the door and you were reaching to grab at his free shoulder to try and gain your balance as best you could. His tongue dragging across you had a shiver ripple through your spine and you swear you could feel a smirk curving onto his lips as he buried his face between your legs.

You definitely heard that deep chuckle he gave, warm breath fanning against your skin. He loved how your body reacted, already trained to his touch, to his tongue. Your mind drifted to that starving kiss he had given you upon entering the door, and you couldn’t help but wonder if you were about to get the same treatment where he was at now. The gleam in his eyes as they darted up to you made you think yes. “Decided I had to show my appreciation.”

[settersprouts]

꒦ ikanaide : chapter four ! ꒦

半神

. . : oikawa is the son of athena, while iwaizumi is the son of ares. both godly parents are known to be rivals, but what does that mean for their children ?

or, hq + percy jackson au, where oikawa is not the son of aphrodite for once, but people still think he is because he's pretty, and he's flattered and confused.

. . : okay hear me out, oikawa is known to be strategic and analytical, which is perfect for a descendant of athena. that is my reasoning for this alr dont attack me pls also, vv sorry this was late, i was feeling like shit all week and couldn't finish m sorry :((( hopefully you guys didn't wait too long :((

iwaizumi's about had enough of his bullshit.

his fists were shaking as he stood in front of his divine cabin, the front door ajar and an absolutely horrid smell wafting out from the cabin. he stepped closer to the cabin, stiffening even more as he pushed the door open the rest of the way. the whole place was absolutely trashed- both his and his other roommates' clothes mixed together in many piles on the floor. he could tell just from the strategically placed items all around the room that the place was definitely rigged with mediocre traps. nothing would kill him, but it would most likely maim him.

the demigod growled, stepping over the tripwires on the floor and grabbing his khopesh. it was charged with electricity, thanks to yū nishinoya from cabin one. in exchange for the many weapons the son of ares' crafted, the son of zeus would help charge a select few and give them back to him.

the added energy would definitely be helpful for when he beat the absolute shit of a certain demigod.

he was seething with bloodlust as he stepped out of his cabin, walking towards the beach, where he knew the person he was looking for would be.

and there he was. sitting in one of the little tide pools, talking with one of the sea nymphs. she was way too close to him, but oikawa didn't look like he minded in the slightest. or he didn't notice, one of the two.

she bent down to whisper in his ear, his pupils growing smaller in his brown eyes, and he let out a laugh. it was really melodic, which was common for a son of aphrodite. their beauty was immaculate, and they were practically irresistible to everyone, unless you had a decent sense of self control. iwaizumi knew that oikawa had the whole camp under his fingertips. except for him.

iwaizumi let out a groan, clenching his fists. fuck morales. he knew that his father and oikawa's mother were on really good terms, but he couldn't help but feel attracted to the absolute need to punch the brunette in the face. with a concrete slab. or choke him with aphrodite's famous scarf. one of the two.

he let out an animalistic growl, drawing the attention of oikawa and the unnamed sea nymph. oikawa blinked at him, unimpressed, while the nymph shrieked and dove back into the ocean with a splash. oikawa glanced at the bubbles where the nymph had disappeared, and let out an unamused sigh.

`oh, well, she was kind of boring anyways,` he said nonchalant, stepping out of the pool, buck-naked, without a care in the world. iwaizumi's eyes widened as he turned away almost immediately, his face flushing completely.

`what the hell do you think you're doing?` he seethed, his usual bark lacking no bite, since oikawa really couldn't see his facial expression.

the latter let out a chuckle. `calm down, you can turn around, now. i'm decent.`

forest-green eyes slowly darted back to the brunette's figure, pupils growing bigger in relief, as he realized that he really was decent. he was dressed in the atrociously bright orange camp half-blood shirt, and bleached denim jeans, rolled up to just above his ankles. his bead necklace was still wrapped around his neck snugly. it was extremely tighter than iwaizumi's, which hung down just over the scar on his left pec. he must've tightened it like a choker. it was kind of smart- usually, monsters with half a brain used those necklaces to pull demigods towards them if they couldn't grab their limbs. this tactic limited the amount of things they could grab on him.

iwaizumi would've never thought of that.

`so,` oikawa mused, folding his now damp towel. he must have used it to dry himself off while iwaizumi was looking away from him. `what do you need from me?`

the other demigod blinked, mouth forming an 'o' once he realized his reason for being there. he totally didn't forget that he wanted to sock oikawa in the face just because he saw him naked. `right. i have a bone to pick with you, oikawa.`

`oh? is that so?` the brunette smiled sweetly at him, his eyebrows furrowed in an act of confusion and innocence. disgusting.

iwaizumi stepped forward, whipping out the khopesh he had stuffed in his pocket. with a simple flick of his wrist, it extended. the contraption was thanks to someone in cabin number six, with the help of cabin nine- apparently, iwaizumi had saved someone dear to them, and he was given the khopesh as a thank you. however, the person never did reveal themself to iwaizumi. it was an athena cabin secret.

oikawa's brown eyes widened at the sight of the weapon, but that expression was quickly replaced with an amused sneer. `oh, what's this? you want to fight?`

`no, you're going to let me maim you in silence, i refuse to fight someone as weak as you.` iwaizumi retorted, fists clenching. the brunette gawked, his mouth agape in a silent shout.

`weak? excuse me? i'm far from weak. just because you come from cabin five, doesn't mean you're higher than everyone else.` he replied, sticking his nose high up in the air. `i'll have you know, i've won many tournaments against your cabin.`

iwaizumi rolled his eyes. `yeah, because you always cheat and sneak over to athena's group.`

`i don't cheat! and i don't have to sneak over to athena's group, i have a place there you know!` oikawa shrieked, whipping out a dagger and pointing it at iwaizumi threateningly. however, the latter remained unphased, which pissed the brunette off even more.

`yeah. sure, and what's that?` iwaizumi said, letting one of his eyebrows raise. if rules served him correctly, there was no teaming allowed in any game at camp half-blood, unless stated otherwise. however, he always saw oikawa with athena's group, but he let it slide, thinking the ares' cabin would win anyways. he was, unfortunately, very wrong.

oikawa blinked. `are you stupid? athena's my mother.`

`huh?` the son of ares' stepped back a bit, glaring at the other. `you- athena's son? but- you're-`

`pretty? yeah, i get that a lot.` oikawa sheathed his dagger, stretching out his muscles. `people mistake me for the son of aphrodite way too much. it's kind of annoying, actually. there's a lot more to me than my face,` he mused, glaring at iwaizumi. `looks like you're no different from the rest of them. shame. i actually took a liking to you.`

the other stood there, unmoving, confusion lining every forehead wrinkle. `what are you saying? there's no way-`

oikawa sighed. `i should've known you were going to be hard to convince. look, i'm the son of athena, and the current ruler of the cabin. if you don't believe me, ask my cabin mates. they'll tell you.`

`then who the hell's trashing my cabin?` iwaizumi seethed, still not convinced by oikawa's truths.

the latter let out a melodic laugh. `i thought that was obvious. i saw some of hermes' cabin sneak out to yours during lunch. makes sense, they're always trying to pull pranks on everyone and see their reactions. yours was most likely the best one of them all.` oikawa smiled, his eyes twinkling as he walked away. `well, while it was fun talking to you, i have to go. it's getting dark, and i'd rather not get caught being out past curfew.`

iwaizumi looked up to the sky to find out that he was, in fact, right. the sky was slowly darkening, the sun almost disappearing at the horizon. the green-eyed demigod let out a sigh, turning to glare at oikawa, to find out he was long gone.

`..damn it!`

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

`can you believe he's even athena's cabin ruler?` takahiro hanamaki muttered lowly to his fellow cabin mate, issei matsukawa, who also stood in front of a very emotional toorū oikawa. he had been ranting about how he was sick of everyone mistaking him for a son of aphrodite, and when his cabin mate shigeru yahaba said it could've been a compliment, the hysterics had gotten even worse.

fortunately, the 18-year-old had tired himself out, and was now resorting to laying on his bed and blinking the tears out of his eyes.

matsukawa sighed. `no. i can't. not when he's like this.`

`i can hear you, 'ya know.` oikawa muttered, tear-filled chocolate brown eyes turning to them accusingly. `you can't even act like you're tired of me, you just got here.`

`true,` hanamaki replied, kneeling down next to his dear friend. `but according to yahaba, you've been complaining about this for the past forty-five minutes. don't you think that's a tad bit excessive?`

oikawa sat up abruptly. `no! well- maybe. but it's so stupid!` he exclaimed, fists furrowing in his fluffy brown locks. `i don't act like aphrodite at all! i don't even look like her, but i'm pretty and that's the only reason people need to lump me in with that cabin. i actually liked iwa. of course, he's just like the rest.`

`oh.` matsukawa snapped his fingers, pointing at oikawa. `he's the guy who rescued kiyo and takeru, right?`

the brunette shuddered. `right. that memory just gives me chills.` he thought back to that day, where a gorgon had came across oikawa while he was taking his sister and nephew shopping. the gorgon smelled him, and realized he was a son of athena, and attacked the group, leaving oikawa bruised and bloodied while he took kiyo and takeru as prisoners. however, a group of demigods from camp half-blood on a quest sensed the violence occurring, and rushed to the scene as quick as possible. iwaizumi was amongst the group, but he had taken off after the gorgon, and didn't get a good look at oikawa's face.

when the group returned to camp, oikawa had made the khopesh iwaizumi had sported, and left it on his bed while he was out training with his cabin mates. he also left a thank-you note, but didn't sign it, hoping to leave his identity anonymous.

`yeah, why don't you just tell him that you're a relative to kiyo and takeru? the whole camp knows about that quest, so if iwaizumi knows your identity, everyone else will too. people won't mistake you for a descendant of aphrodite anymore,` hanamaki supplied, reaching into the tupperware of ambrosia oikawa was given (he had started a fight with kyōtani from ares' cabin to relieve his stress- both parties sporting the same amount of cuts and bruises) and popping a bit into his mouth.

oikawa shrugged, snatching back the tupperware before hanamaki could steal any more. if a demigod ate too much of the sweet, healing treat, they could get extremely sick. `yeah, maybe. but,` oikawa grinned, turning to his two friends that stood by his bedside, `beating him at capture-the-flag tomorrow sounds way more fun.`

the two boys sighed, smiling at the sight of their best friend with a much happier mood. capture-the-flag with demigods was always a very violent and extreme sport, but all cabins ended up having a lot of fun playing the game. and, no matter what side the athena cabin was on, they always ended up winning. no one could remember a time where they lost.

beating the ares' cabin was going to be a piece of cake for oikawa.

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

`you seem on edge, iwaizumi.` ushijima had muttered to the demigod, taking a seat beside the other. they were currently stationed in the middle of the forest, with the job of guarding the red flag. `do you want to talk about it?`

iwaizumi glanced at his companion. under the absolutely atrocious battle helmet was a look of concern and worry for his friend. the dark-haired demigod let out a sigh, nodding slightly. `yeah. i'm just.. shaken up, i guess.`

`how so?`

`well..` iwaizumi pondered, trying to figure out the best words and phrases to lay his point across. `i pissed off one of the sons' of aphrodite here, because apparently, he's the son of athena, and not aphrodite. like, what the fuck? the dude even acts like the deviled spawn of her, so i don't understand why he's so pressed.`

ushijima nodded, listening intently. `you mean toorū oikawa, right?`

iwaizumi gaped. `how the hell did you know that?`

`i made the same mistake you did, thinking he was a descendant of aphrodite.` ushijima mused, looking up to the sky. the clouds reflected in his olive-coloured eyes, but were less noticeable than the clouds reflecting in oikawa's eyes. `when he had first came to camp half-blood, he was called weak by one of our cabin-mates. he challenged him to a duel and won. i then told him he should have been a descendant of ares, not one of aphrodite. he would have a rightful place here, with us.`

`oh? what'd he say, then?`

the olive-haired demigod shuddered. `he slapped me. very hard. and then yelled at me, saying he was a son of athena, not aphrodite. he apparently doesn't like being addressed as a child of aphrodite.`

a sharp wolf-whistle came from the trees. ushijima and iwaizumi stood up, quickly switching to a fighting stance. iwaizumi clenched his khopesh as the figure who was listening to their whole conversation emerged from the trees.

and of course, it was fucking oikawa.

`y-you?` iwaizumi shouted, almost dropping his weapon. `how long were you there?`

the brunette stretched, calm despite the fact that a sword and a khopesh were both aiming at his chest. `i heard the whole conversation. i've been watching you two for quite some time, now.`

ushijima stepped forward as to greet oikawa, but faltered. his eyes widened, and he turned around. leaning on the flag they were supposed to protect was a silver-haired male holding a celestial-bronze axe. his honey-brown eyes met ushijima's olive-green ones, and a corrupt smile split his face. `finally. you noticed me. i was wondering how to get your attention.`

iwaizumi turned around to see the second attacker, letting out an almost animalistic growl. `it's a fucking ambush.`

`correct~` oikawa mused, taking out his dagger and smiling at the other. `however, suga-chan isn't allowed to touch you. i wanted to do all the dirty work myself.`

the silver-haired demigod nodded. `my only purpose here is to take the flag once oikawa defeats you. he requested to fight you both at the same time.`

oikawa nodded, flicking a little switch on his dagger iwaizumi hadn't noticed before. as soon as he did so, he dropped the dagger, and it extended into a much longer weapon. the other demigod scanned it, recognizing the weapon to be a scythe. 'suga-chan' smiled at the sight, meeting iwaizumi's questioning eyes. `you guys better be prepared. he hasn't lost a duel since he came here.`

the brunette nodded, pointing at ushijima with a smile before lunging at the demigod. before the latter could even react, oikawa had connected his foot with ushijima's abdomen, sending the demigod flying. he landed on his back with a gasp, having the air knocked out of him. iwaizumi's eyes widened- he hadn't even been able to react either. that was how fast oikawa was.

ushijima sat up quickly, blocking oikawa's attack with his sword. the other demigod smiled sweetly, twisting the scythe and yanking ushijima's sword out of his hand. it landed in the dirt a couple yards away.

iwaizumi growled, running at oikawa with his khopesh up high. the brunette turned around, unamused, sidestepping iwaizumi's attack and tapping at the end of his weapon. the khopesh hissed and groaned, a net pooling out from the back end, trapping iwaizumi in the knots. the demigod gasped, writhing around in the trap. `wh-what the hell?`

`you seem to be confused. could it be,` oikawa laughed, `that you didn't even know that was there?`

`s-shut up! how the hell did you know anyways?`

oikawa deadpanned. `i made the stupid thing. i think i would know every little thing there is to know about it.`

the dark-haired son of ares stared at his attacker, watching as he stalked over to suga and ripped the flag out of the ground. the brunette turned and smiled sweetly at his victims, waving. `well, see you.`

the two demigods sprinted off, laughing at the shouts coming from behind them.

⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝

`i can't believe him!` iwaizumi kicked the boulder, ignoring the pain from doing so. `he's so fucking insufferable! but i can't even do anything about it, because apparently he made this stupid weapon-` he waved the khopesh in the air, `-and i have to be grateful, but he's making it so goddamn hard!`

kyōtani glanced at the demigod, popping another piece of ambrosia in his mouth. he was still recovering from his fight with oikawa earlier. `you didn't know he made that for you? i thought it was obvious.`

the other glared at his cabin mate, confusion in his eyes. `what do you mean?`

`well,` kyōtani chewed the left over ambrosia in his mouth and swallowed, before continuing. `i'm pretty sure he has a crush on you, or something. he's been watching your duels ever since he came back with your group.`

`what group?`

`the quest you had a while ago.` kyōtani muttered under his breath, probably ridiculing iwaizumi. `you saved his sister and nephew from a gorgon. remember that?`

iwaizumi deadpanned, the memories all but flooding back to him now. `that was him?`

`that was him.`

`so he really is a son of athena?`

kyōtani nodded.

`..fuck, i'm an idiot.`

`i know.`

─── demigods.

[thesleepy1]

Its The Charm

A/N: I like being a sugar mama and showering my friends in gifts. This is one of them.

 Pairings: Steve x Bucky

 Summary: Bucky takes a hit and Steve is having none of it. 

 Word count: 772

 Warnings: Violence, injury, blood. 

 Steve was great at planning date night. Awesome at it. He got every aspect of it down to a tea. What to wear, where they were going, how to get there. Just everything. He loved doing it. Steve felt a burst of joy every time he planned a date for him and Bucky. Just the older man’s smile was incredible. 

 Everything about Bucky was incredible, except his knack of stepping in when Steve had everything under control. 

 “I had it, Buck,” Steve scolded the man after handing him an ice pack for his black eye. Bucky was slumped over the couch now, Alpine on his lap, ice pack to his left eye and a fist in Steve’s hand. His hands had stopped bleeding for a while now, but they stung each time Steve grazed over them. 

 “You were getting the lights knocked out of you,” Bucky groaned in a thick Brooklyn accent. It came out when he first woke up in the morning and when he was angry. Steve usually loved the accent, but right now it was getting on his nerves. 

 “I had it under control. I didn’t want to make a scene,” Steven scoffed, rubbing a tad too rough on Bucky’s wound.

 “Hey!” 

 “Stay still!” 

 Bucky did not. Alpine had enough of the two’s arguing and left them to figure things out. It was a sad day when your cat was acting more mature than you were. 

 “I don’t like seeing you hurt, jerk,” Steve began, wrapping Bucky’s knuckles to help them heal. “When I said I could handle it, I just meant I didn’t want you to get involved.”

 Bucky flexed his hand and heaved a sigh. His dress shirt was unbuttoned and he had thrown his blazer over the couch the second he arrived home. Steve was in a better condition, his coat still on, though he had toed off his shoes when he came inside. 

 “Do you think I enjoy seeing you knocked out and in the hospital, Stevie?” The look the blue eyed man gave Steve was soul searching. It was direct and focused solely on him. Nothing else but the blonde man was in Bucky’s thoughts. “And you telling me not to get involved really hurt, you know that?”

 Steve shook his head.

 “It's like you don’t trust me.”

 “Then you know how I feel.” Steve took off his coat while waiting for a reply. Bucky was in deep thought, he had turned his head to the side and was staring off in the distance. 

 “I’ll trust you to take care of yourself, but trust me to take care of you,” Bucky finally spoke, looking up at Steve who had gone to the kitchen for a tea. Steve brought two mugs back, a simple black tea blend he liked to drink with a little sugar. Bucky liked a bit of honey and milk in his. 

 Steve gave Bucky his mug and sat down next to him. Their apartment wasn’t cold, not like the one they had back in the day, but he still needed to wear a sweatshirt to bed. Alphie and the super serum were big help in keeping him warm, but some things never change. 

 Taking a sip, Steve began, “I trust you, I do, but you need to understand not everything can be solved with a fight.” He tapped the mug with his fingers, playing a tune he heard earlier that day. “I don’t need to be won over with a fight.” 

 Bucky chugged down his drink in a few foul moments. Steve usually commented on his tea drinking etiquettes but he was too tired to do so tonight. “I get it,” Bucky spoke with gravel. “But I wasn’t winning you over. That dick had it coming, hitting on you and everything. Then he had the nerve to throw a hit when you rejected him.” 

 Steve rolled his eyes, shaking his head at the memory. “Buck….”

 “No, don’t Buck me. He had it coming.” 

 Steve pressed a kiss to the older man’s lips. He was warm to the touch, a gentle lover and soft with his grip on Steve’s hips. But he could also be rough when he wanted to, grabbing Steve and manhandling him so he was straddling Bucky’s thighs. He deepened the kiss, only drawing back for air. 

 “You could’ve just told him off and walked away.” 

 “You know that wouldn’t have worked.” 

 Steve pressed another kiss onto Bucky’s skin, his metal arm coming to Steve’s back to keep him in place. “How did I fall for such an idiot?” He caressed Bucky’s face, rubbing his stubble. 

 “It's the charm.”

[fox-guardian]

"You want to meet... my parents?" Asked Jekyll, turning to face his friends.

The three young gentlemen were gathered in Jekyll's dorm room, sitting on the floor in a clear spot amongst scattered clothes and papers. Lanyon and Utterson glanced at each other before turning back to face him. Lanyon sort of shrugged, "Yeah, why not? I've heard they're lovely people."

Jekyll stayed mostly still, only his eyes shifting and his mouth speaking, "Well, yes, sure, but... why? Why do you want to meet them?"

"They must be wonderful people if they've raised a young man like you," said Utterson, smiling.

Jekyll softened up for a moment, taking the compliment, before stiffening up again, "Y-You don't need to meet them though, it would be so boring-"

"And so what if it is?" asked Lanyon, his voice starting to boom as it often did, "We just want to meet them! Our parents have all met them at least once, and we only know of them, why don't we pay them a visit? I'm sure they'd love to meet their son's new friends!"

"Of course," Utterson chimed in, "I'm sure you've told them about us," he looked at Jekyll, half-expectantly, Jekyll looking a tad guilty, "...haven't you?"

Jekyll sputtered a bit, "Well uh, I... Th-They don't really check up on me very often, an-an-and I'm... not really the type to send letters as often as you do."

"Well, of course not," he replied, "I know you're probably too busy to tell them everything, but... you haven't told them you made friends here?"

Lanyon put on a sad face, "Are we not that important to you?" he inhaled dramatically, an exaggerated expression of hurt on his face, "ARE WE NOTHING TO YOU?!" He then held his wrist over his forehead and fell over, wailing, prompting the others to laugh.

Jekyll slowly composed himself, as if he didn't want to come back to the subject, "... I suppose you could meet them... If you really wanted to."

Lanyon sat back up immediately, lifting his arms in triumph, "YAYYY!! We're going to Henry's house!"

...

A couple of days had passed since they agreed to pay the Jekylls a visit. Henry had notified his parents of their plans and the three gentlemen were now sitting comfortably in a luxurious carriage on their way to Henry's childhood home. Well, two of them were comfortable. Lanyon was fidgeting excitedly, looking around the inside of the carriage at all the neat little decorations. The curtains over the windows, the cushioned seats, the extra pillows; everything was just so exceedingly fancy, even for an upper-class fellow like himself. Utterson had already taken in the somewhat intimidatingly lavish carriage and was now taking in the young man seated across from him. 

Henry sat in his usual dress; a golden vest, white shirt, black jacket and trousers, black shoes and bowtie, with an added black cape and hat. He noticed something slightly different about his friend's outfit, but he couldn't put his finger on it. Henry sat with his knees pressed together, his hands folded on his lap. He stared at the floor, but repeatedly sat up and adjusted his posture, and adjusted his clothes. That was it! He looked much more meticulously put together today. His tie was perfectly even, his vest was crisp with wrinkles pushed flat, even his hair was combed to perfection. Or at least, as perfect as his curls would allow. He kept looking at the floor, out the window, up in this corner, that corner, fidgeting and then stopping abruptly only to fidget more a few seconds later. He lifted his hands as if to scratch his head and then stopped himself, he seemed to fight himself over where to put his hands before folding them again and planting them in his lap. 

Utterson looked at his dear friend confused, and a bit concerned. They were on their way to meet the esteemed and well-respected Jekyll family, why would their own son be the most anxious out of the three of them? 

The carriage came to a halt, and Henry's head shot up suddenly. He lifted his hands and pointed to his friends. 

"I... forgot to mention..." he started slowly, "I may be acting a little bit... differently around them."

Lanyon let out a hearty laugh, "Of course! We all put on a bit of a filter around our family, don't we?" Utterson shrugged. He never really "put on a filter" around his own parents, but he knew what he meant.

Henry laughed, "Yes, of course... I hope we don't intimidate you all..."

The carriage door opened, and they all filed out. Before them stood a large, exuberant house. The pristine outside covered in windows decorated with gold and the front yard lined with servants decorated with smiles. Utterson watched as Henry seemed to glide across the yard and up to the house, he followed as the many servants greeted him and Lanyon as they went by. Two manservants opened the front doors as they approached and a man stood inside the doorway. Utterson peeked from behind Henry to see him.

He wasn't really a small man, smaller than Henry but taller than Utterson. His hair shined like silver and was groomed back perfectly. His mustache and beard were also perfect, each trimmed so finely they looked as though they could shave themselves. He stood with perfect posture, holding a cane in front of him. He smiled, a perfect smile that conveyed love and warmth. And yet...

"My son," he began, and spread out his arms, "Welcome home."

"Father," Henry returned, holding his arms out as well, "Oh, how I've missed you!"

Utterson and Lanyon glanced at each other for a moment. His voice seemed so... sweet? Like honey, but...

Henry floated towards his father, lowering his arms as his father lowered his, gesturing with one hand for him to turn around to face their guests. I thought they were going to hug for a moment there, thought Utterson, and he left it at that. 

"I'm sure you've been well, son," Mr. Jekyll said, his hand returning to his cane, "Why don't you introduce me to your friends, hm?" 

Henry lit up, smiling. The way he did that didn't really... suit him. "Oh, of course!" He gestured to Utterson, "This is Gabriel John Utterson, we have classes together for law." 

Mr. Jekyll reached out a gloved hand, "Ah, 'Utterson', eh? I do believe I've met your father! Looks just like you except for his mustache. A real charming fellow." Utterson shook his hand, a firm grip. He felt like his own grip was inferior. 

"Yes, I think you've done business with him at some point in the past," he took off his hat, "It's an honour to meet you, sir." Mr. Jekyll smiled at the remark.

Henry gestured to Lanyon, "This is Doctor-to-be Hastie Lanyon! I know him from, well, medical school," he laughed. It wasn't his normal laugh.

Lanyon reached out and shook Mr. Jekyll's hand, or rather his entire upper body, "Pleasure to meet you, sir!"

Mr. Jekyll laughed awkwardly as he was released, and composed himself, "And a pleasure to meet you as well, Mr. uh... Lanyon." 

Henry seemed hesitant before clearing his throat and speaking, "Where's Mother? Is she meant to be here?"

His father looked at him. Lanyon and Utterson couldn't see his expression, but Henry's shifted just the tiniest bit when he saw it.

"She'll be here in a moment, the carriage arrived just a tad sooner than expected so she may not be ready." He turned back to the other two as a distant clacking of heels came down a large staircase, "In fact, I believe that's her just now." He stretched out a hand, gesturing to the woman descending the stairs.

She was tall, with dark hair and eyes to match. She swayed down the staircase with a wine glass in one hand and a folding fan in the other. She held it between her fingers as she took her husband's hand, "So sorry I'm late dear, the maid was being awfully slow."

He kissed her hand sweetly, "Not at all, my dear," he gestured to the young gents, "Look! Our son has arrived and brought his friends! This is Gabriel John Utterson and Hastie Lanyon."

She took her hand back and held it out to them, smiling, "How do you do?" 

They each took her hand and greeted her. Utterson glanced over at Henry to see his face seeming to... not quite "relax" but shift out of that smile he's had on this whole time. His father reached up and adjusted his son's bowtie that didn't need adjusting. Henry's face snapped back into that perfect smile immediately.  

Utterson stared for an extra moment at that smile, it was... perfect. He looked relaxed, calm, content, confident... but it just wasn't his usual smile. His usual smile was tame and free and sweet, and when it was toothy it was just that, toothy. But every time he smiled now, it was just... off. He seemed to be smiling in such a way that it hid his buck teeth, and his smile seemed to fit his face without suiting him, at least as Utterson knew him. It was like his face was suddenly sculpted into something that was just not right... He glanced at the Jekylls, they were smiling just like that, but theirs seemed more natural, or at least, more practiced. 

He glanced at Lanyon, he didn't seem to notice any of this.

A servant took their coats and Mr. Jekyll led them on a house tour. Each room was lavishly decorated and furnished. Everything was comfortable and beautiful and amazing. It was almost dizzying looking at everything, like it was all a dream. 

Lanyon tapped Utterson on the shoulder and pointed to the several paintings that lined the halls. All were portraits of the Jekylls. Some were of the father, some were of the mother, and one at the end of a hallway was a family portrait. Mr. Jekyll stood with his cane, posed just as he was at the door and Mrs. Jekyll stood next to him, just behind Henry. He was stood with his hair combed back out of his face, smooth and perfect, much like his father's. Utterson looked at the finer details of it. Their faces were all perfect, moreso than what they were in reality. Despite Henry himself not looking much younger than he is now, his parents' faces were much smoother than they actually were. He looked closely at the cane in the picture, it looked sort of like a snake. He turned around to check the actual cane only to find it five inches from his face, pointing at the picture. 

"Ah yes, this was from only last year, I believe," said Mr. Jekyll, "Lovely painter, really captured our likenesses," he looked at Utterson, "wouldn't you say so?"

Utterson glanced at the cane, so it was a snake. An odd choice, but that sort of taste would explain some of Henry's eccentricities, wouldn't it? The handle was so clean.

"Oh, yes sir, very accurate," he laughed nervously. 

Mr. Jekyll smiled, "I suppose you're all hungry, eh? Dinner should be ready soon. Why don't I show you the dining area?" He turned and walked away, supporting himself on the cane. So it wasn't just for show. Perhaps that's why the base looks so worn?

...

Dinner was served. A lavish feast served on silver platters and glasses filled with the finest wine. Henry was seated between his parents, forming a line of Jekylls on one side of the table, while Utterson and Lanyon sat across from them. How intimidating...

The meal went smoothly, they talked about school and grades and the like. Lanyon started to tell a funny story about some silly thing Henry had done, Utterson looked at Henry and he seemed... disengaged? He still had that smile on but his body seemed tense. The table was shaking. Mr. Jekyll tapped the butt of his knife on the table twice and it stopped, Henry straightened in his seat. Oh, he had been bouncing his leg. 

Utterson glanced over at the Jekylls as Lanyon told his little anecdote. They laughed along, but kept glancing at Henry whenever Lanyon mentioned... well, anything, it seemed. As if they disapproved of whatever he had just described. It wasn't anything awful, just a silly story about Henry trying to climb a tree to get a very interesting looking leaf and how silly he looked doing it. 

When he finally finished his tale, Henry piped up, still smiling, "Alright, well I think that's enough silly stories for now-"

"Nonsense," interrupted Mr. Jekyll, smiling, "Tell us all you'd like."

Henry shushed up and took another bite of food.

"No, I've taken enough time already," said Lanyon, "Utterson, perhaps you've got a story to tell?"

Wow, Hastie, thanks for putting me on the spot, he thought. He figured he'd tell a less embarrassing story for Henry's sake, but he couldn't for the life of him think of one as entertaining as Henry climbing a tree to steal a leaf. So rather than telling a story, he told them about how passionate Henry was about science, how he loved hearing him rant on and on about his projects and experiments despite being completely illiterate on the subject... but even that didn't seem to impress them. 

The meal ended with a strange tension in the air. Something was definitely off, but Utterson couldn't put his finger on it. After a short goodbye, the three gentlemen collected their things and returned to the carriage outside.

...

It wasn't until they returned to Jekyll's dorm room that he seemed to relax. He sat down at his desk and started making faces, stretching the muscles as if smiling like that for so long was straining to them. He turned away when he noticed Utterson staring.

"Well that went alright, I think," said Lanyon, breaking the silence.

"Sure..." replied Jekyll.

"They seemed... nice," added Utterson, trying to break the tension.

"Sure..." replied Jekyll, more quietly this time. He sighed, "I'm sorry, I'm just... exhausted from today. I'd like to get some rest now, if you wouldn't mind."

"Exhausted?" Lanyon asked, "How? We didn't exactly do mu-"

"If you wouldn't mind," said Jekyll, raising his voice. It wasn't a polite request anymore.

They turned to leave. Lanyon exited the room, annoyed and huffy. Utterson turned back to Jekyll. He went up to him and gave him a gentle hug around his shoulders.

"...Goodnight, Henry. Sleep well."

He swallowed as Utterson let go, "...Goodnight, Gabriel. A-And you as well."

((That took about 3 hours WHEW))

[indecent-lemon]

Back with the Blackthorns S01E01 “Pilot”

This is my gift for my lovely friend Becca aka @thepurplewarlock || One day while we were talking I said that she could have an entire sitcom based off of her quirkiness and it lead to this || I’m not sure if I’ll write more about this so don’t get your hopes up too high(if you have hopes lol)

Rebecca heaved her luggage to the front door of the Los Angeles Institute. It was two PM; sweltering hot and she had gotten off her eight-hour flight. Usually, shadowhunters used portals to get around but it only took one look at that swirling mass of warped space and time to say NOPE. But right then she was wondering if she had made the right choice.

She wandered aimlessly on the beach, searching for a huge church. Five people had asked her if she was lost. She was tempted to say yes but how would she explain it? Yeah, I’m looking for some super attractive, demon-fighting people with cool tattoos and they live in an invisible church. Well, invisible to you. Have you seen them? And even her eyes hadn’t fully adjusted to the Sight yet. But when they finally did it slapped her in the face.

The Institute loomed over her. The cement was cracked, there were dents in the walls, and the backyard was abuzz with life; impressions made in the dirt and trees. People live in that old house, alright. Her people.

She reached the front door and rang the doorbell, which seemed newly installed like the large windows. It did little good to the weathered place. She heard shuffling and harsh whispering from the inside and then the door opened to reveal a tall, teenage boy with sea-green eyes that held distrust.

She felt a tad dazed but composed herself quickly. She beamed.

The boy shook his head, “You must be confused. Wherever you need to be, it’s not here. There’s a phone booth near the beach.”

Becca pushed up her sleeve to uncover the rune of angelic power on her wrist. The whispering stopped and suddenly people were crowding the door. She saw a beautiful blonde girl mutter, “I bet you five bucks she’s a lost Herondale, Kit”, to a smaller blond boy who looked as if he had too many tricks up his sleeve. Kit answered, “No way, Emma. She doesn’t look sarcastic enough.”

Becca thought of the name Herondale, she’d heard it being thrown around in Alicante with both negative and positive connotations.

“I’m not a lost Herondale”, she said, “I’m a recently ascended mundane from England as you can tell by my accent. I have chosen the name Rebecca Blackthorn.” She smiled shyly and quickly added, “But you guys can call me Becca.” Emma grumbled as she slipped green bills into Kit’s fingers—which held money with a certain familiarity of a con man but his eyes said no such thing.

The boy who opened the door was taken aback, “You don’t want that name. I’m ninety percent sure it’s cursed. Don’t use Herondale either.”

“Or Dearborn”, Emma growled. Somehow, his frown was etched even deeper into his tanned face.

“You guys can’t be so bad. You seem like a nice family.”

“That’s how we’re supposed to seem. Now please, go back to Alicante and change your name.”

Becca stammered, “B-but why don’t you want me here? You don’t even know me. I’d like to help.”

A cute, chubby girl who embodied her siblings’ traits asked, “Yeah, why Julian? I’ve only met like three people who don’t live in this house. She’s new.”

Julian replied, “It’s not that we don’t want you it’s just that we have a lot of emotional baggage and we need to be able to trust you completely.”

A brooding faerie glared under periwinkle locks, “I suggest we give her a test to assess her loyalty.”

Julian crossed him arms, “Kieran, loyalty takes time to build. You can’t just—”

“Okay. Here’s the test; Do you like lamps?”, queried a man with two-colored irises. One solid, the other metallic like the faerie’s. He practically bounced off the walls with his bubbly energy.

Becca decided to ignore the oddity of the question, “Lamps are nice. I like them.”

“That settles it. She’s a Blackthorn.”

Julian sighed, “Come on in, Becca.”

A girl volunteered, “Let me help you with that. I’m Livvy”, and grabbed the luggage.

Becca exclaimed, “Careful! I have precious cargo…” Mugs spilled from a hole in the pack. Twenty mugs along with a hundred tea bags. Eyes bored into her head.

A gray-eyed, obsidian-haired boy pondered, “Why are you smuggling tea of all things? There’s much more profit in the illegal drug industry. Unless… they’re vintage?”

Julian chided, “Ty! Don’t give her ideas.”

***

Becca was a bit embarrassed about her excessive mug collection but pride still filled her heart. And tea was currently filling her stomach. The warm cinnamon taste relieved her headache and near heat stroke. She thought, Why must California be so hot?

She missed her mundane family and friends in England. She had told them she was going to the U.S. to study. It was abrupt and questionable because she was so happy with her job and life but they wished her luck. She hoped she could go visit soon. Until then she was stuck in a room that lacked personality but it wasn’t all bad.

Earlier that day, Diana, the tutor had shown her around the place. Although, it didn’t keep the new shadowhunter from getting confused. She felt like leaving a trail of bread crumbs or more so—tea bags. Diana had also went through some training sessions—mental and physical— which left her bones and brain feeling like mush. She could hardly hold up her mug and sleep threatened to come but she wanted to stay up. To observe what vibes her new home gave off at night.

Here are the things she figured out during that day:

Everyone’s names

Everyone loves each other very much(almost frighteningly)

Mark is affiliated with multiple lamps?

Julian is the mom

Emma’s the fun uncle

Julian and Emma are in love with each other

Livvy, Kit, and Ty have a friend group together

Dru is slightly allergic to babysitting

Kieran has no idea what’s going on

Tavvy is a pure soul

Cristina needs a hug

THE KITCHEN IS THE MOST IMPORTANT PIECE OF INFRASTRUCTURE IN THIS HOUSEHOLD(as mentioned by Julian. He didn’t yell it but the undertone was clear)

Diana seems to be the only one with complete sanity(although with these kids it might disappear soon)

You may think that’s a lot to find out but Becca knew it was just the tip of the iceberg. She dozed off during dusk and awoke to yelling two hours later. She almost put on her gear until she realized the yelling sounded as if it came from arguing children. From the kitchen! The same kitchen where she kept her mugs. She scurried downstairs and took in the scene.

There was a cake, except it was now frosting-down on the floor. Livvy and Dru were going at it. They both claimed the other dropped the cake and Julian was trying to reason with the two. Kit and Ty were off in a corner, immersed in a card game that Ty was definitely winning. Cristina attempted to read a book but couldn’t stop herself from sneaking peeks at the drama. Diana simply gave everyone the “I taught you better than this” scowl. Then she saw it. Her mugs lay despairingly on the floor. She could see the cracks from a mile away. Kieran’s hair was cobalt as he was extremely annoyed. He stalked off outside.

In fact, everybody was annoyed. “What happened?”, Becca asked. She ran to her broken mugs.

Mark explained, “We made a cake to welcome you and apologize for our rudeness earlier. But one of the girls slipped over frosting and accidentally opened the cabinet leaving for a mug genocide. That action triggered another one of the girls to accidentally drop the cake. It was amazing but it’s gone now. Sorry, Rebecca.”

She glanced around the room as a chorus of “sorrys” was said. They were all sincere. Livvy and Dru calmed down; agreeing to share the blame. Becca left the kitchen with a million thoughts running through her mind. They destroyed my mug collection… but out of an act of friendship, she thought.

She went outside to take a breather. She met Kieran on the porch and queried, “How were you supposed to get back in if you can’t open the door?”

He stared at the stars and laughed without humor, “I guess I wasn’t going back in.”

“What’s got you so down?”

“I made up the idea and it backfired. You Nephilim can be so much sometimes.”

She didn’t answer.

“I’m sorry. I really am. I wanted this place to feel more warmer.”

She smiled, “This place is warmer. Partly because it’s California and partly because you are a really loving family.”

Kieran scanned her face, “How can you say that when we murdered your mugs?”

She grimaced at that thought but simply shook her head. “I can get new mugs. But I can’t replace memories. One day I’ll look back at this and laugh.”

Kieran nodded and gazed wistfully at the stars.

She sat next to him in one of those old-timey rocking chairs and decided to break the silence. “I feel as if I’m in a western film. All I need is a cowgirl hat and a southern accent. I’ve actually been working on one.”

Kieran raised a brow.

In an atrocious Southern accent she said, “There’s a snake in my boot.”

Both she and Kieran burst out laughing. Mark approached them, guffawing also. Between breaths he said, “That’s not a Western. That’s Toy Story.”

Becca mocked offense, “Are you telling me that you deny the existence of the most toy-based, action-packed, Western, Space-thriller animation ever created?”

Smugly he retorted, “Well maybe I am.”

Kit called from inside, “You’re both a disgrace to Disney!”

It only made the three go into another fit of laughter. When it finally died down, Mark handed Rebecca an unbroken mug, salvaged from the wreckage, full of hot, cinnamon tea. In the cool air her heart swelled and Kieran had a small smile play on his face.

Before she could thank him, Mark added, “Emma went to buy some donuts to make up for the cake. Again, we apologize.”

She exclaimed, “Well quit apologizing! What’s done is done. I’ll get over it.”

His eyes widened, “So you’re not mad? You don’t want to leave?”

“Of course not. Tonight was entertaining. I’d like to see more.”

Mark beamed and sat with the two. They talked that entire night, nothing too personal, just fun stuff. And when the donuts arrived you can bet that they let Becca have the first pick.

“What a marvelous excuse to eat junk food”, Julian teased.

Becca nudged him, “Marvelous indeed.”

But Diana constantly reminded that it wasn’t an everyday thing but she too wouldn’t miss out on the sugary deliciousness that was donuts.