#stone is easily convinced to do mischief

[stealthetrees]

This is based off my own experiences.

Quinlan Vos takes Commander Fox to an aquarium.

It’s supposed to be a date, but due to Fox being autistic and also aroace and also on a roof trying to pet a stray cat when Quinlan asked him, he doesn’t know.

Fox is having the time of his life. They spend a long time at every tank bc Fox wants to see every fish and read every single info card. He’s running around and looking at all the fish and talking to all the employees and he’s so exited.

Quinlan is happy Fox is having fun but quickly realizes this would not be romantic at all. Which is just fine, but very different from what he planned in his head.

They spend all day there because Fox got into a deep conversation with one of the employees about symbiotic relationships that lasted hours. The manager has to come and ask them to leave.

When Quinlan brings Fox back to the barracks, Fox says bye and runs off to show everyone the giant stuffed shark he got from the gift shop. Thorn is waiting at the door and after Fox leaves he encourages Quinlan to take him out more often, maybe somewhere more expensive. Buy him gifts and all that. Quinlan takes it as real advice and Stone tries to tell Thorn not to bully him like that but Thorn explains his plan to use their relationship to get treats and gifts he knows Fox is gonna share with everyone.

Quinlan later figures it all out but never stops doing things like that for Fox, just buys enough for him to share. Fox never finds out Quinlan was trying to date him.

[devnmon]

wine & dine.

summary: astarion's ego still burns hot after the most recent battle, and whilst you celebrate he becomes convinced he can make you come in a room full of people without any of them noticing.

warnings: a lil exhibitionism, fingering, star knows what to do with his hands, dirty talk, also reader is wearing a dress just for easy access & is called 'my girl' once xo

a/n: happy october, here's another vampire fic <3

wc: 1.5k

Sometime between when your adventure began, and what they have put you up against, you’d currently found yourself having dinner inside a castle. It was local tradition to celebrate winning the battle with a meal and song. Like always, next to you was the ever so dashing Astarion, sipping from a his own goblet of wine.

The two of you had been on the road for days, accompanied by the rest of your party— but Astarion stood by your side with unending loyalty. He lingered in a soft nudge of your arm whilst in a crowd, and in the words of dedication he’s sworn to you every night.

Astarion had the ability to hear when your heart sped up or skipped a beat— especially when he’d placed his hand on your thigh about ten seconds ago. His touch was a stark difference to the heat dancing under your skin.

His palm rested on your thigh, nothing more. Your eyes met his for a second's glance and caught the cheekiest flash of mischief in his eye. Before you could notice the glint of his fangs peeking out, your attention turned back to the room in front of you.

"Gods, you're beautiful." he purred, leaning over with the chalice still in hand.

A vampire of all creatures feigning innocence in any context was not seen very often. But you knew what Astarion was doing, continuing to play along with his little act and observing the others celebrating.

The stone corridor was lively with music and dancing, many of the halflings and gnomes swinging on one another while singing together. Others sat on one of the many tables, drinking and eating their fill for the night. You could easily spot Shadowheart being talked to by a certain Githyanki over their meal, deep in conversation.

Astarion’s skill of his rogue handiwork did not only pertain to picking pockets and unlocking chests. If only you would’ve felt his cool palm slide further up your leg, perhaps the second cup of wine you’d consumed had something to do with that.

Your inner thigh always proved to be more sensitive, and Astarion knew that; he knew every lucky spot you loved the most. It proved to be one of his favorite things when you so you blessed his ears with your pretty sounds.

"Astarion..." you slurred, shooting him a knowing look.

"Yes, love? Is your leg cramping?" He lifts the goblet before him for a sip of wine before sliding up further and tightening his grip, "Oh, maybe more than just simply that..."

Your eyes shifted around the room, catching the many pairs of eyes occupying the chamber. Any one of them could easily spot the two of them doing this— and the idea of it made you all warm inside.

Starkly contrasting the warmth of the room, Astarion's skin to skin contact drowned out everything else. The band of bards playing a jaunty tune, the laughs and clinks of goblets and conversations all flying past your ears as if in a dome where only you and Astarion existed.

The pale elf's hand made its way under the fabric of your skirt, already feeling how heated you were for him before he'd touched you right where he knew to.

"People could see..." you mentioned, attempting to hide your blush with a rather large gulp of the mead in your cup. Though everything you'd drank so far had already loosened you up, of course it was like Astarion to push you over the edge with his touches.

"By the chaos of it all, they won't even notice, my dear. That is, if you don't give them a reason to." His full lips curl into a smirk before swallowing another sip of wine.

Your eyes trail over to him beside you, taking note of his red eyes burning with lust and the skin of his neck you'd caressed many times before.

It's evident by the sound you make exhaling that proves you want him all the same. There's no denying the urge to be whisked away to a corridor and letting him have his way with you. But being with Astarion has taught you many things, and testing something new was always a new adventure with him.

That's all the signal he needs to confirm he wasn't pushing a boundary of yours by doing this. The vampire's hand sneaks between your legs, cupping your heat exactly the way he knows you like. The pad of his middle finger is pressed lightly against your garments, soaking the cloth with arousal.

Your warmth leaks onto his fingers, immediately sending one of them swiping through the mess you'd made.

"That turned on from just my touch? Oh, now there's my girl."

The hand that's not wrapped around your glass grips at the cloth napkin, dropping it on your lap for any discretion you could still hold. Palms sweating, cheeks plastered with a flushed state that Astarion knows so well. You were melting in his presence and knew he’d gotten exactly what he wanted.

"You know, you're a three course meal in that dress. Showing what you've got off— gods, the amount of eyes on you earlier. I had half the decency to not smudge that pretty makeup of yours before we even arrived."

He runs the tip of his tongue over the edge of his fangs, immediately salivating at his memory of the first time he tasted you. Astarion's never felt such ecstasy in something he wasn't doing to himself, it brought him to new heights for the first time in his life.

You didn't dare speak… not wanting an inappropriate sound leave you and draw people's attention towards you. Astarion slips a second finger between your folds, and swallowing the sound threatening to escape your lips seemed easier in your head. Your entire body aches for him to please you the way he always knows how.

You truly can't control the way your body turns for him- it's fucking magic the way he can unravel you entirely without doing much.

Two of Astarion's digits enter you without resistance, and if instinct, you clench around him from the sensation. At first he doesn't move, only waiting to spot if anyone's noticed. That first movement of his has you gripping the table while attempting to poise yourself. It's difficult on its own, for your enamored mind body and soul only grows when you’re surrounded by his scent, his presence, his laugh.

His digits thrust into you, hitting just the right spot that a whimper expels itself from your chest. Your knuckles've just about turned white from how hard you're gripping the handkerchief in your lap.

"Don't worry, I'll make it quick for you. Wouldn't want our hosts to think you're a filthy slut who likes such a thing, now would we? Oh wait..." Astarion chuckles to himself, the cocky bastard. Though you would never admit it to anyone except him how much you never wished for his touches to stop. He yearned for an eternity of pleasing you if it made him feel as good as it did.

He withdrew his fingers from inside you almost all the way, before squishing them back into your warm, wet heat. Breath hitching, you wished to rut against his palm sickeningly before his fingers found themselves pressing that spot again.

"Astarion... please," you begged.

"Don't draw attention, darling. That's the fun part." His continuous movements were close to sending you over the edge, and the purr in his voice didn't help matters. Keeping yourself contained when Astarion had his hands on you was much easier when you didn't have the threat of people seeing what mischievous act the two of you were up to.

Every movement threatened to release all the groans and moans Astarion deserved to hear, biting down on your lip to suppress it. You grabbed the cup of wine in front of you and took a drink, almost choking when the fingers inside you curled again. Some of it dribbled down your chin, leaving Astarion to pick up his napkin and dab your lips with it.

"Tsk, so consumed by desire you can't even act normal. Figures." His teasing and fingering had all but kept you on the edge of your orgasm for minutes on end.

Your arm grabs his wrist, making eye contact with his rubies and silently begging for him to indulge you.

"You want to come? Be my guest, darling. I want repayment in full later on, in private."

Astarion's fingers began thrusting inside of you, curling to hit that sweet spot before you were gushing around him and leaning into his shoulder to hide your cries. With your orgasm washing over you, he removes his fingers, letting them linger over your clit for just a moment before removing them from your undergarments fully.

As if the whole thing wasn't enough, Astarion just had to lick his fingers right in front of your eyes. It was the most erotic thing you've ever seen, especially since you were all over his fingers.

"Hmm, delectable as always. Tasting you has always been one of my guilty pleasures. But for now we eat, drink and be merry. There's a celebration about, my love." Astarion stated before taking a swig of his wine.

Merry you were, not just from the afterglow, as you leaned in to his chest and watched the party ride out its chaos.

[rosesareredrosa]

One More Chance

Mattheo Riddle x fem reader

Summary: Y/n stumbles upon Mattheo while going to the library after they broke up but Mattheo wants One More Chance in their relationship

w/c: 832

The dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts were quiet, the echo of footsteps bouncing off the ancient stone walls as Y/N made her way towards the library. The evening was drawing in, the golden light from the setting sun filtering through the narrow windows and casting long shadows. She pulled her cloak tighter around her shoulders, more out of habit than need—after all, it was late autumn, and the chill had only just started to creep in.

As she turned the corner, she nearly bumped into someone. Y/N took a step back, her breath catching when she recognized who it was.

"Mattheo," she greeted, her voice coming out steadier than she felt. She hadn't expected to run into him, not here, not now. Her pulse quickened, memories she had tried so hard to bury threatening to resurface.

Mattheo Riddle stood there, hands shoved into the pockets of his robe, his dark eyes watching her intently. There was a glimmer of something—mischief, perhaps?—that danced behind his gaze, something that had always drawn her in. His tousled curls and easy smirk were as infuriatingly attractive as ever.

"Y/N," he replied, his voice smooth, carrying a hint of surprise that he didn't bother to mask. "Fancy running into you here."

She stiffened slightly, unwilling to let herself be swayed by the familiar charm in his tone. She had built walls around her heart since they had parted ways, and she wasn't about to let him chip away at them again.

"I was just heading to the library," she said coolly, sidestepping him. "Excuse me."

But Mattheo moved too, blocking her path. "In a hurry?"

Y/N sighed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. "What do you want, Mattheo?"

He tilted his head, studying her as if trying to unravel a mystery. "I just wanted to talk."

"We have nothing to talk about," she retorted, keeping her tone brisk, despite the way her heart thudded in her chest.

"Is that so?" Mattheo mused, not moving an inch. "You don't still have feelings for me, do you?"

The question caught her off guard. Heat rose to her cheeks, but she forced herself to meet his gaze with a sharp glare. "Oh, why would I? We broke it off for a reason, didn't we?"

Mattheo's smirk faltered, replaced by a more serious expression. His eyes softened slightly, and for a moment, the bravado dropped. "We did. But it doesn't mean it was easy. Or that it didn't matter."

Y/N felt her resolve wavering, memories of late-night conversations, shared secrets, and stolen kisses flooding her mind. She had convinced herself that ending things was for the best, that they were too different, that he was too reckless and she too cautious. But the truth was that she had never really let go of him.

She shook her head, determined to keep her emotions in check. "It doesn't matter anymore, Mattheo. We made our choices."

He sighed, his posture relaxing as he leaned back against the wall. "Maybe. But I can't help but wonder…if we made the right ones."

Her heart clenched at his words, but she forced herself to stay firm. "You can't change the past."

"Maybe not," he conceded, "but the future? That's still up for grabs."

Y/N bit her lip, torn between the desire to walk away and the pull of what could be. The chemistry between them had always been undeniable, a spark that never quite fizzled out, even after they parted ways.

"Why are you saying this now?" she asked, her voice softer, almost vulnerable. "What's changed?"

Mattheo looked at her with a seriousness she hadn't seen before. "I realized that letting you go was a mistake. I've been thinking about it a lot, and I can't shake the feeling that we gave up too easily."

She stared at him, unsure of what to say. Part of her had hoped he would say something like this, while the other part was terrified of reopening old wounds. "Mattheo…"

He stepped closer, his voice low, earnest. "I'm not asking for everything to go back to the way it was. But I am asking for a second chance. To see if we can figure this out, together."

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she looked up into his eyes. She saw sincerity there, a glimmer of the boy she had fallen for mixed with the man he was becoming. The future was uncertain, but as she stood there, she realized that maybe, just maybe, it was worth taking the risk.

"Alright," she whispered, barely believing her own words. "One more chance."

A slow, genuine smile spread across Mattheo's face, one that made her heart skip a beat. "One more chance," he echoed, his voice filled with promise.

And as they stood there, in the quiet corridor of Hogwarts, it felt like the beginning of something new—something that had been left unfinished, but was now ready to be written.

[97keanu]

Keanu characters + couples Halloween costumes:

John Wick:

John wants to say he doesn't do costumes. He complains, gently, saying he's too old to dress up anyways, but he can't say no to you in the end. He thinks you're funny when you suggest being a nurse since you're always patching him up all the time, but he also can't deny the image of you being a sexy nurse either. You also joke about him being a literal baba yaga and he finds that less funny. In the end, you two go as something that's actually as far from his work as possible, something simple and cute that ends up leaving John feeling happy he can have a moment of fun. Even if that is just staying in, watching cheesy horror movies, and giving out candy with you.

Kevin Lomax:

Unlike John, Kevin would totally go for the obvious with an angel/demon couples costume. He might even ask to be the angel just to throw people off, not to mention seeing you in a sexy devil's costume (especially if you're typically an innocent!reader) would really turn him on. He also likes to keep the costumes a bit higher class, so what you're wearing is not coming from the corner store or the mall. No, Kevin is buying you louboutin red bottoms to match a skin tight Alexander McQueen red dress. And, well, maybe the devil horns and tail do actually come from the mall...

Neo:

Neo doesn't want to admit how badly he loves dressing up. He likes being able to be someone else from time to time, just to get away from his typically boring on the surface life. He likely is asking you to be in 90s nerdy pop culture cosplay for Halloween, maybe even leaning onto the more goth side of media. He would take inspo from movies like: The Crow, Blade, Underworld, and maybe even end up asking you to be the Sally to his Jack.

Ted Logan:

Ted would love any outfit that he could easily pull off being stoned in. Think Shaggy and Velma (bill might even tag in as Scooby). Another great one you two cook up is Garfield and Hello Kitty, but Ted also adds that, Garfield is also, of course, stoned. There's also a possibility for you two to get into a lot of silly innuendos costumes as well, but with Ted's mind they would likely not make much sense. Possibility for you to convince Ted on a historic costume and getting him to take you back in time for period accurate clothing. Also, don't be surprised if it turns into a thrupple costume with Bill.

Evil!Ted Logan:

He would think couples costumes are stupid at first, and maybe even berate you about it (crybaby!reader watch out!). His mind would change when he sees there's slasher Halloween costumes at the mall, and he decides he and evil!bill can probably get away with more mischief if they're masked. He would probably try to talk you into being either the final girl from a slasher to reenact some fantasies, or ask you to be a sexy ver. of Ghostface or Freddy.

Constantine:

Constantine doesn't do costumes. He will likely not even end up breaking like Wick, and instead is a meanie about the whole thing. He shows up in that damned suit he always wears while you're out here in your cutest sexy girl outfit (think angel, playboy bunny, cat woman) and only ends up feeling bad about the whole thing after you storm off and cry. He apologizes the best he can, and ends up trying to make it up to you by being more social at the party, and telling your friends that he's dressed as "Vincent from Pulp Fiction" or some other character that comes to mind that wears a suit. Next year, you make him promise to actually dress up, and when you two do it's totally cheesy ones he hates but allows for you, such as Joker and Harley Quinn-esque.

Jonathan Harker:

This ones fun because you two are going to a masquerade! You get the most gorgeous gown with all the frills you please, with a gothic touch of course. Jonathan isn't usually one who dresses overboard, but tonight he has dressed to the nines for you! He looks sleek and dark, stunning in an illusive mask that for some reason has you feeling more of his dom side. Jonathan actually ends up really getting into it, and he charms you all night long as if he's almost another man entirely. The beauty of the masqurade conceals and invites freedom to be someone you're typically not, and by the end of it, you can't wait to take him home. He can keep the mask on tonight.

♰ Please send any costumes you think would work for keanuverse characters, I'd love to hear them! Especially anyone I missed ʚ♥︎ɞ

[i-did-not-mean-to]

'twas a lark (or a nightingale?) - Chapter 1

So, here goes...

@mismaeve @self-conscious-author, here comes the Modern!AU Lindir fic featuring all the favourite idiots of the bunch LOL

Words: 1,6 k

Characters: Lindir, OC, Thranduil, Legolas, Elrond

Warnings: strong language at times

“Lúthadis,” Thranduil sighed, “that girl would be better in a tavern.”

He liked his son’s best friend, he truly did; she was the kindest soul one could imagine, but that very sunny nature was what made her – in his opinion – so entirely unsuited for the establishment he was running.

“Are you saying that Elrond deserves something good you’re not able to cope with?”

Legolas was leaning against the doorframe, his fluid, elegant limbs draped carelessly against the polished wood.

The idea took hold in his father’s mind, thriving and unfolding at the speed of light; Legolas was not wrong, he could kill two birds with one stone.

“Lú,” he called, “come over here, please!”

She was an amazing waitress – punctual, diligent, and charming – but her ebullient nature made her stick out like a sore thumb in the high-end, hushed, gold-and-velvet spa-hotel Thranduil was running; discretion was key and Lúthadis was anything but subtle.

Even as she made her way over, her dark auburn hair – curly and wild unlike anybody else’s – bobbed like a fire over her pale face with those startingly green eyes that ever sparkled with mischief.

“Yes, boss?” she chirped cheerfully, the dimples in her cheeks deepening as she gave the old stick-in-the-mud a fond smile.

“How would you like working for Elrond for a bit? I need to know what makes him so damn successful when he’s running basically a tavern with rooms upstairs…”

“Corporate espionage,” Lúthadis grinned, “that sounds like fun.”

“Well no,” Thranduil huffed, “maybe a little. Just look around some and ask some questions.”

The truth was that he was bored out of his mind, and he hoped that his – hitherto benign – rivalry with the cute little inn down in the valley would spice things up during the lull of the season; it might – incidentally – also do the girl some good to see a different kind of establishment where she might fit in more easily.

“Alright,” pleasant as ever, Lú agreed easily to her boss’s proposition; on her way up from the village, she had – herself – noticed the beautifully drawn sign in the front window that advertised a vacancy amongst their staff, and she was more than eager to find out what kind of house Elrond ran.

“Who is she?” Lindir looked at the door of his superior’s office nervously as if the new recruit would come bursting through it at any moment, armed to her teeth.

“I’m sure Thranduil sends her,” Elrond smiled, knowing his apparent rival better than the man himself suspected, “she’s one of the kids having grown up in the treehouse.”

What the people around here called affectionately ‘the treehouse’ was a stately, beautiful manor house that Thranduil had transformed into a refuge and oasis within a dense forest of dark trees; known to be contrary and haughty, that very same man had a legendary soft spot for animals, plants, and a random gaggle of kids that could demand anything of him.

“She’s one of his?” Lindir asked breathlessly; he was much less inclined to extend good faith to that colourless, arrogant creature that was Thranduil de facto.

“She has excellent references,” Elrond declared in a decisive tone, “and you’ll show her around.” The fact that the astonishingly small and curvy young maiden was every bit as surprisingly and uncharacteristically beautiful as people said was only an added bonus for the older man; he liked Lindir and he was convinced that it would do him some good to interact with a woman who did not yet know how utterly sweet but helpless he was.

“What’s her name?” Lindir asked, turning around at the door, already sweating as he thought of the stranger about to barge into his peaceful life.

“Lúthadis,” Elrond informed him, “and she truly is enchanting; you’ll see.”

That, Lindir thought, was exactly what he was dreading.

Lúthadis liked men; she liked flirting with them, from time to time, she even liked going out with one and letting him seduce her, so, she was used to them and by no means fearful or insecure around them.

The stern look her new supervisor gave her though sent shivers down her spine that were not entirely nervous in nature; he was beautiful in an ethereal, unreal way.

“Boy oh boy,” she sighed, “can I make you a coffee or something? You look a bit pale.”

“I always look like that,” Lindir replied coolly; he was dumbstruck by the vibrant energy emanating from that tiny woman in front of him. She was unlike anything he would have imagined when thinking of a ward of Thranduil’s.

Where that man was notoriously colourless – all silver and gold – Lúthadis was like an explosion of shades; her hair made him think of the dark, burnished copper of the old tanks in the cellar and her eyes seemed tiny, sparkling windows into the lush forest surrounding her home.

“Hmmm,” she hummed and cocked her head expectantly, “what can I do then? Tell me how to make myself useful.” While she spoke, she was already tidying up the menus strewn across the counter of the restaurant area and absent-mindedly dancing around the staff laying the tables for the evening service.

“I’ll show you around,” Lindir replied formally, losing himself in the meticulous explanations of the different areas and tasks; Lú listened to him go on and on with a faint smile, she had grown up in a hotel and was intimately familiar with all the small details that kept such an enterprise running.

“And here’s my office,” he finished, pointing at a narrow wooden door at the righthand side of an equally as narrow corridor, “Elrond’s is just at the end there.”

“You call him by his first name?” she asked; she had been worried about that as she had accepted Thranduil as a father of sorts and had never used his formal title in her life.

“Everyone does,” Lindir smiled; it was the first genuine smile he had displayed, and Lú couldn’t deny that it felt like witnessing the blooming of a delicate flower under the full moon, “we are not very formal here. That might be a change of pace.”

“Not really,” she replied casually, grinning to herself as she remembered all the shenanigans she had gotten into with Legolas when they had been younger; people were wrong about Thranduil – and God knew that he wanted it that way and encouraged all the absurd gossip about his famed cold-heartedness – for he was, in truth, a very kind person who was prone to worrying too much and – as a consequence – forgetting how to express his overfull heart without sounding too intense.

She loved Thranduil with the same indulgent affection many a daughter held for her ageing father; since her earliest childhood, neither he nor Legolas had made the slightest difference between any of them even though they were the owners of a high-end hotel and she was but a wretch literally left on their doorstep.

“Lindir,” a young woman with long hair the colour of wet sand came strolling down the corridor, “is that the new girl? Why are you hogging her?”

“I am not,” he expostulated vehemently as if she had accused him of some terrible crime.

“I’ll show her around the dining room,” she grinned, “you go and set up the roster.”

“Hi, my name is Ann’ – Anneth really – and Lindir is as reliable as a clock; no doubt, he was already sweating because of his precious timetable being upset,” she then introduced herself.

Lú returned the polite favour and followed the other woman into the dining room where a few members of staff were still laying tables and preparing.

“Your boss, he’s well fit,” Lú sighed before she could suppress the thought from slipping out.

“Which one, dear?” Ann’ laughed, “Doesn’t matter; they’re both single. Come to think of it, Lindir will die single if he doesn’t stop being such a damn stickler for propriety.”

She winked at Lú and was about to hand her a stack of plates to set out when a loud crash was heard, followed by a sharp cry of pain.

One of the girls had dropped something and cut open her whole hand; as she was standing in the middle of the dining room, Lú ripped off her sweatshirt and wrapped it around the injured hand before the blood could undo all her colleagues’ hard work while another girl dashed to call an ambulance and get Lindir.

“It will be okay,” Lú soothed her, listening intently for the siren of the ambulance, and hearing a sharp gasp instead.

“Oh, interesting,” Ann’ chuckled under her breath before calling cheerfully: “Lindir, she’s not going to be able to work tonight. Stop staring at the new girl’s tits and do something.”

“What? No…I…”

When Lú turned around, she could see her new supervisor’s face darken rapidly as the flash flood of blood rose with alarming rapidity in his cheeks; he seemed a very decent chap indeed…and he looked desperate.

His elegant hand rubbed helplessly over that fair brow – puckered in confusion – as he pondered his options.

“If you give me your shirt, I can do it,” Lú offered.

“My…what?” Lindir merely stared back at her, unable to comprehend that a woman – very directly – had asked him to take off his clothes.

“I can either dash up, unpack my whole suitcase, find an appropriate shirt, or you can give me yours,” Lú grinned and motioned to the corridor in which she now knew his office lay.

“Come with me,” he groaned and turned on his heels sharply.

As all of you know, I am deadly insecure about this project (once more), so getting any kind of feedback would be very nice and helpful for me...

Thank you...

-> Chapter 2

-> If you like my writing, please do not hesitate to drop me a line, a DM, a reblog, or any other sign 💖

[anonymousfiction211]

Handcuffed together: 8 The party

The party

Today was the day that Steve finally woke up. When you heard the news your ran to the medbay, you had to see for yourself. Steve smiled brightly when he saw you and you engulfed him in a big hug. He grunted, still in pain and you loosened your grip.

‘Sorry’ you apologised. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Like I have a hang-over, something I haven’t had in a very long time’ he smiled to himself. ‘I will be ok, (Y/N)’ he said. ‘Thanks for saving me’

‘Ehm.. actually, Loki did most of the work’ you admitted.

Steve frowned ‘Loki can do that?’

‘Yep, he’s teaching me currently’ you said.

Steve just laughed. ‘What’s so funny?’ you asked a bit wary.

‘To think a few weeks back we had to handcuff the two of you together, and now you are constantly with each other and he is even teaching you. It’s funny’ he said. ‘Are you sure there is nothing more to it?’

You hoped your face didn’t look as red as you think it looked. ‘Yes, just friends’ you replied a bit nervously.

‘I heard something else from Natasha’ he said.

‘What did you hear from her?’ you asked.

‘Apparently, Loki was quite cross with his brother the last mission. Hate to have missed that, I never knew Loki could be boyfriend material’ he answered.

Right before you could reply, the devil himself walked in. ‘Captain’ he nodded curtly.

‘Loki’ Steve said back as curtly as Loki.

‘How are you?’ Loki asked.

‘Great, thanks for helping me’ he said.

You saw for a quick second the surprise on Loki’s face. He wasn’t used to being thanked.

‘You’re welcome’ he replied hesitantly. Then he turned his attention to you. ‘You’re late’ he said.

‘Well, Steve was waking up. So, I think that is a good excuse’ you replied.

Before Loki could reply, Steve intervened. ‘Oh, don’t let me keep her from you. Go, (Y/N). I will see you tonight, Tony is already planning a big party’ he said while rolling his eyes. Loki looked very pleased, you rolled your eyes but followed the God to the training room.

Later that night

To say that Tony was throwing a big party, was quite the understatement. There were more people in the tower than you ever saw. The music was barely audible over the loud conversations, and alcohol was flowing freely. You had a blast, partying, and dancing with the rest of the team. Even Loki seemed to have a good time, mostly talking to people. He did scare a few of them, but that was to be expected from the God of Mischief. Halfway through the night, the party finally seemed to come to an end. Most of the team was sitting on the couch. Bruce went to bead early and Clint didn’t attend the party.  You and Tony were quite intoxicated. You noticed Loki watching you like a hawk. You actually wanted to sit on his lap, but you didn’t know if you were ready for everyone to know. Whatever you could call what you and he were doing. Even tough, most of the team knew that something was up already, thanks to Loki.

The sound of the alarm and the red warning lights had everybody on high alert in an instance.

‘J.A.R.V.I.S., what is going on?’ Tony yelled to the AI.

‘There are some unknown individuals down in the lab, sire’ the AI replied.

‘Shit, that can’t be good. Right, ehm.. everyone who can still function properly, split up. We will cover every entrance to the lab and trap them there’ Tony yelled.

Even tough Tony gave the command, he was clearly to drunk to actually put on his suit. The only people who were capable were Thor, Loki, Steve, and Natasha. Steve had ordered the rest to stay put and the four of them went downstairs to the lab. So, you were left on the couch with Tony. The alarm didn’t stop and you heard explosions. After a while, the doors of the room you were sitting in burst open. Loki was quickly advancing at you, and you immediately noticed that something was off. Before you could react he grabbed you by the throat and lifted you into the air. You panicked, you couldn’t breathe anymore and no matter how much you struggled against his grip, he was too strong for you.

It took a moment for Tony to react. He sprinted towards Loki, in an attempt to tackle him. But Loki just slapped Tony out of the way and he went flying across the room. You tried to plead but didn’t have a voice anymore. Thor finally burst through the doors and flew at Loki. You fell down on the ground hard but didn’t care. You were gasping for air and tried to stay conscious. Natasha was by your side in a second and Steve went to help Thor.

‘Are you okay?’ Natasha asked

‘Y- yeah, but what?’ you barely could make audible.

Before she could answer you saw Loki in your eyeline again. He advanced towards you. You saw Steve and Thor both on the ground grunting. Natasha stood up, putting her body between you and Loki, but he pushed her away hard. The only thing you could do, was cower in fear. Suddenly Thor’s hammer slammed into Loki’s head and he fell down. To your relief he was unconscious. It took a moment for the whole team to get up and walk towards you and Loki. Thor extended his hand and helped you to your feet. He pulled you close and you hold onto him for dear life. You couldn’t help but starting to cry.

‘It’s okay. When he wakes up he will be normal again’ Thor whispered while stroking your hair.

‘WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED?’ Tony yelled to Thor.

‘We don’t exactly know. But they got to him, it wasn’t his fault’ Steve said quickly.

‘What do you mean they got to him?’ Tony wanted to know.

‘I don’t exactly know. But when we split up, Loki found the creatures first. They talked to him, there was some weird energy surrounding him. Then he stormed of to here and the creatures just disappeared’ Thor explained. You could feel his voice vibrating through his body.

‘Did you recognize them or heard anything?’ Steve asked.

Thor just shook his head. Everybody’s attention switched when Loki started to groan and grab his head. He slowly sat up right, while everybody watched him intently. He blinked a few time and scanned his surroundings. He looked a bit disoriented. Suddenly, he looked at you with horror. You looked away and tightened your grip on Thor, to your relief he did the same.

‘I think you have some explaining to do’ Natasha said.

‘You’re not going to attack again?’ Tony asked.

‘No’ Loki replied, you could tell he was struggling. ‘I- I’m so sorry. I don’t know where to start’ he said. ‘I need to leave’

He quickly got to his feet, but swayed a little. Getting hit in the head with Mjölnir had his effect on him. Thor grabbed your arms and guided you towards Steve. You put your arms around him and Steve let you. Thor walked towards Loki. ‘You’re not leaving, sit down’ he sat strictly. He pushed Loki backwards and he fell onto the couch.

‘I need to leave’ Loki said desperately. He got up right, but Thor pushed him back down. You could tell he was exhausted and didn’t have much strength at the moment.

‘Tell us what happened if you need to leave afterwards you can’ Natasha said.

‘That’s a lie’ Loki replied.

It was silent for a long time. Everybody was looking at Loki, wating for him to speak. Loki was visibly struggling to find the words, that was rare. ‘Alright. It’s quite a long story’ he said.

‘We have all the time we need’ Tony replied.

‘You actually don’t, but anyway.. there is someone out there who is collecting all the infinity stones. And his minions were looking for the sceptre’ he said.

When he didn’t continue Thor asked ‘Who?’

‘He is named Thanos’ Loki replied.

‘What happened down there between you and them?’ Natasha asked.

Loki gritted his teeth. ‘They.. they put me in a trance’ he said.

‘Why did you attack, (Y/N)?’ she went on.

‘It’s complicated’ he replied.

‘Try me’ she quipped back.

Loki looked away, ashamed. ‘My first intention wasn’t to come here and play the hero’ he said.

‘I KNEW IT!’ Tony exclaimed! ‘I knew we shouldn’t trust you’

‘Shut up, Stark’ Thor boomed. ‘Loki?’ he asked.

‘Look, I convinced Odin to let me come here to ‘redeem’ myself for my actions. I was planning on escaping and starting over elsewhere… but Thanos contacted me and gave me another chance. So, I was stuck here’ he explained.

‘Another chance? At what?’ Natasha asked.

‘Collecting the mindstone, after that the Tesseract from Asgard’ he said.

‘I’m not buying it. How could they manipulate you so easily?’ Tony asked sceptically.

‘Once you’ve been under mindcontrol for a while, it’s easier to control the same person again’ Loki said.

‘When were YOU under mindcontrol?’ Tony snorted.

‘New York’ Loki said, still gritting his teeth.

‘Bullshit, we won’ Tony said.

‘I intentionally lost, there is a difference’ Loki said angrily.

‘Alright, why do you need to leave then?’ Natasha asked. ‘And don’t you dare lie to us’ she added.

‘To speak the truth, my first intention was to grab the stones and kill you in the process. Thor would grief too much to notice the attack on Asgard and after that I would be free’ he said, still not being able to look at the team. After a pause he continued. ‘But.. I didn’t expect.. I mean, I hadn’t planned on. You know, not wanting to kill you all.. so, I thought my best chance was to help you and if Thanos came defeat him’ he said.

‘We will circle back to the killing us part, but the latter sounds like reasonable? What changed?’ Natasha inquired further.

‘I’m okay with Thanos killing me. But today they told me they wouldn’t. They would use me to kill her and then keep me alive until I die naturally, should I fail’ he said while fumbling his hands.

You just stared in shock at Loki, but he wouldn’t meet anyone’s gaze. ‘So, I need to leave’ he said then. Everyone stayed silent.

‘No’ you whispered, breaking the silence. You felt everyone’s eyes on you but couldn’t care less. The only eyes you stared into were Loki’s. A mix of horror, pain, hurt, hope and love danced over his face. He was trying hard to hold back tears, it shocked you to see the always so dominant and in control man reduced to this. You slowly walked towards him and to your surprise he backed away on the couch.

‘Don’t’ he whispered, his voice croaking a little.

You ignored him. You sat beside him on the couch and put your arms around him. He didn’t react for a minute. But then he put his arms around you, pulled you close and hang onto you for dear life.

The moment was ruined when Steve started to speak ‘All right, ehm. This is a lot. And still a bit vague. Maybe, we should go to bed and Loki, tomorrow you tell us everything. Every detail, only the truth. After that we will come up with a plan’

Loki let go of you and looked at Steve ‘The truth is, it would be easier for me to leave. That would fix all your problems’ he said.

‘You’re part of the team, and we look out for each other. So, the answer is no. And if you even think about leaving I will personally track you down and put you behind bars again, just to keep you here’ Natasha replied.

Loki cocked an eyebrow, surprised by this reaction. Most of the team just nodded, Tony however looked at the ground. ‘When you decided not to kill us anymore, your highness’ Natasha answered his silent question when he kept looking at her. Adding a bit of humour to lighten the mood.

Tags: @delightfulheartdream​ @the-best-phineas​ @theaudacitytowrite​ @l0nelyasian​ @ragweed98​

[softyoongiionly]

Bunny Do

You and your husband live in a cottage together in the forest.

Welcome to a day in your life.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: Fluff, smut, slice of life au, domestic au, DO I EVER WRITE ANY OTHER KIND OF JUNGKOOK? No. I have a problem

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: Well hey there. Look it’s Aqua, back with ANOTHER Jungkook domestic au. Seriously someone needs to stop me. This is just excessive at this point. Anyways, I freaking love you. Yes you. Hi, I love YOU. Ok bye.

this fic is dedicated to @bulletproofbirdy​ whom I love with my whole entire heart. The war has begun.

IMPORTANT: Please check out this link and do what you can! All lives can’t matter until black lives do. 

https://softyoongiionly.tumblr.com/post/621111679997050880/jakegyllenhaals-here-is-a-carrd-for-blm-here

Warnings: swearing, Jungkook abs, smut (18+ only plz)

Chaos is not something you’ve been apart of for quite some time.

You traded in your busy life of hustling and turned away the bustling city you were born in to retreat into what could only be described as paradise.

Sure, the bugs can be a bit overwhelming and mating season amongst your animal neighbors doesn’t provide the most serene of soundtracks but, it was home.

Home is now a small cottage nestled into the forest at the base of Mount Iridescence.  

The exterior is made of smooth grey stone and the roof, which your husband laid by hand, is made from the finest oak the two of you could find.  

Of course, the exterior is covered in greenery, it wouldn’t be a cottage paradise if it weren’t.

The front of the cottage is adorned with a massive flower garden full of white daisies, pink roses, yellow tulips and tons of baby’s breath.  

Your porch served multiple purposes; housing the ridiculous amount of plants you’ve nursed, providing shelter to the occasional racoon or squirrel and, allowing you and your husband to watch the sun kiss the crest of the mountains every evening.  

The interior of your cottage was intentionally simple. Other than your husband’s many homemade ceramic pieces, the main source of décor was of course, more greenery. White linen, chocolate colored clay and, delicate lace also accented the inside of your home.  

Behind the cottage was essentially a small zoo, complete with a dozen chickens, a handful of geese, a cow named Jezabel, a llama named Su and, two baby bunnies named Floof and Tokki.  

Beside the animals was a garden that provided many of the ingredients you use in your kitchen every day; broccoli, cauliflower, pumpkin, green peppers, jalapeños, garlic, thyme, parsley, tomatoes, strawberries, grapes and carrots. There was a lemon tree or two as well but, the garden was consistently expanded as you and your husband learned new ways to be better plant parents.  

The point is, you had made yourself a nice little life in the forest.

An odd trip into town occurred every week or so as well as visits to friends and family but overall, life had resigned to the small nook in the forest.  

You had never felt more at peace...

“JAGI,TOKKI IS MISSING!!!”

Your husband’s urgent call rips you out of your gratitude as you begin frantically looking towards the direction of his voice.

“What??? Are you sure?! We locked their little home last night didn’t we?”

You’re now questioning every life decision you’ve ever made and whilst you’d like to be absolutely certain you’d never do anything to endanger the lives of your two tiny fluffy children, the fear in your husbands voice is unsettling.

Finally he whips around the corner, his black hair flopping about as he does, eyes wide with panic.

“I can’t find him anywhere- I went to feed them and I can only see Floof!”

“You checked under the patch of bedding in the left corner? He’s always hiding under there...” You insure, your breathing slightly increasing.

He seems to deflate beneath your question and, suddenly a rush of pink comes across his cheeks, “I- well...ok I may have forgot to check underneath the bedding...”

He rushes out the last bit of his words before hastily running to the backyard. Despite your inability to keep up with your freakishly athletic husband, your anxiety is fueling your movements to the point that you aren’t far behind him.  

“Excuse me Su, Jezebel! Ge-Get out of my way please!”  

You hear him try and reason with the ladies currently blocking his path as he nearly trips over some stray chicken wire.  

“Slow down!” You call after him, slightly out of breath as you see Jungkook halt abruptly in front of the baby blue hutch housing the bunnies.

“Hi Floof, sorry to bother you again I’m just gonna-” Jungkook murmurs into the hutch as you finally catch up to him.

Eagerly, you peak over his shoulder, heart wildly thrashing in your chest as you see him lift up the fluffy padding on the bottom of their home.

Sure enough, Tokki is sleeping soundly beneath the padding, his small caramel colored body curled into a little ball, completely unaware of the panic over his disappearance.

“Oh god...babe I’m so sorry, I just freaked out I thought- I thought I let him out because, I was the last one out here last night.”  

You can hear the tightening in his voice and it sends a thousands pangs of sadness into your heart.

Kissing your teeth, you pull him into your chest, laughing gently as you pat his back.

“Hey, hey it’s ok sweetheart. He’s right here yeah? You’d never forget to lock them up.”

His hands quickly find the back of your cotton dress, clinging to you tigher than you’d expect before tucking his face into your neck.

With a kiss he mumbles, “ ‘m sorry I scared you, I was trying to finish all the chores since you worked so hard on the garden yesterday.”

“You’re so sweet.” You peck at his cheek, “And wonderful.” Another peck, “And amazing.” Peck. “And cute.” Your kisses move lower so they are focused on his neck, “And I love you.”

With the onslaught of kissing, Jungkook snickers and playfully wiggles away from you as the sensations overwhelm his sensitive skin.

Despite the bit of tears that stain his cheeks, his brilliant smile is out to play as his hands find your waist to pull you against him.

“Soft.” He teases, sniffling slightly but the love in his eyes is unavoidable, “I love you too...”

“You really want to talk about who is soft right now?” You quirk an eyebrow, “You’re still crying...”

At this he laughs, his body shaking as he pulls you in closer to him, the scent of his eucalyptus body wash enticing your senses.  

“Shhhh...” He giggles, pecking the shell of your ear playfully, “Our children are safe, let’s just pretend this never happened.”  

You giggle and shrink away from his kiss before your body seems to snap back like an elastic band, your arms wrapping around his waist.

“Fair enough. As long as you promise to check the ENTIRE hutch next time.”  

He nods, smirking against the side of your head, “Deal.”

As you pull away from him, you feel a pang of regret, wishing desperately that you were able to stay near him for the entire morning.

Or the entire day...

Or the entire year...

But who’s counting?

However, cottages do not tend themselves and while you have the strongest urge to pull your husband into your bedroom, you know that there are chores to finish.

Jungkook’s eyes are on you, like he’s reading the script inside your head and as much as you’d like to convince him (and yourself) that everything in there is PG, you both know it’s not.

Newlyweds are like that right?

All passion, no pause.

Sex, love, touching, laughing, getting drunk off of one another...

It’s a daily occurrence.  

The honeymoon phase isn’t supposed to last forever but, you’ve been back from your honeymoon for 4 years now and you swear you want him more than you did when you first met him.

He giggles then, like a school-boy, his eyes alight with mischief.

“Stop staring at me...” He tucks a finger underneath your chin, “Weirdo...”

His soft cherry lips tuck into yours then, slowly unwinding you with his kiss as his fingers delicately cup your face.

Of course you reciprocate, drinking up every bit of his affection that you can, your hands sliding beneath the white t-shirt that hangs loosely off of his body.

Jungkook shudders as he feels your fingers brush over his lower stomach, arousal beginning to bubble up in his gut.

However, you aren’t going to let his snarky comment go unpunished so as you peek an eye open you say, “The hutch is still open...”

With a pop, he pulls away from your kiss with wide eyes to check on the bunnies. Once he’s satisfied with their well-being, he gently shuts the hutch and turns back to you.

“Rude.” He remarks, trying to appear unamused, “I was literally trying to make out with you.”

A laugh leaves your lips, “You can make out with me later...” You lean in to peck the mole beneath his lip, “We have chores to finish.”

“wE hAvE cHorES to FInisH...” He mocks you playfully and snickers as he narrowly avoids your hand as you swat at him, “I’m kidding! I’m kidding you’re right...just c’mere one last time...”

Your eyes narrow in suspicion but because you are completely weak for him, you allow him to tug you against his chest once more.  

“I love you Mrs. Jeon...” He vows but this time, you can practically taste the sincerity in his tone as he kisses the side of your head, then your cheek, then your lips, “I’ll see you in a bit ok?”

With nothing but warmth in your chest, you offer him a cheesy smile and give him a proper hug.

“I love you too Mr. Jeon...”

As the two of you part ways he turns around to continue his tasks revealing to you the sculpt of his ass within his black jeans.

And of course, you smack it.

Because, who the hell wouldn’t?

“Don’t forget the chicken coop!”

You yell as he jumps a mile high.

“YAH!” He calls after you, chuckling to himself, his cheeks reddening involuntarily.

The rest of the morning passes easily.

You harvest the various herbs and produce from your garden, clean the bathroom, organize the refrigerator after your grocery delivery and catch up on some of your reading before deciding to make some lunch.

Jungkook had been out all morning as well: tending to the animals, fixing some of the fencing, weeding, repotting some flowers and, mowing the front lawn.

He’s probably feeling the same level of hunger that you are so, you head out to the backyard to ask him what he’s in the mood for.

It takes a minute for you to find him but, when you do...you really regret that you did.

His white t-shirt has been discarded over the fence; the only left adorning his body are the dark wash denim jeans, his black work boots and, sweat.

Before he even notices your presence, he pushes his sweaty mop of hair away from his face, squinting at the ray of sunshine currently in his eyes.  

He truly has no idea how attractive he is.  

But you certainly do.  

And you feel like you’re going to faint.

His wedding band catches the sunlight and it reminds you, once again, that this man is your husband.

Which is a fairytale within itself.

Jungkook rubs the back of his neck, wincing slightly before his hand slides down to rub over his stomach (abs), signifying in his own way that he’s hungry.

Which causes you to remember why you came to find him in the first place.

“H-hey babe!’” You call gently, your voice wavering.

Eyes widening a bit, he hones in on the sound of your voice, his face lighting up as he sees you.

“Yah! There she is! Are you all done?”

You smile, adjusting your clothes and wishing that your knees were kissing the soft grass of the garden.

Nodding, you step a little closer to him, trying to avoid full-on eye contact, “Yeah, I just finished up, do you want something to eat? I was gonna make lunch...”

“That depends...” He maneuvers his head to try and catch your attention, his body bending slightly in the process, “Are you on the menu?”

He has the audacity to throw a smirk and an over the top wink your way before immediately cackling as you roll your eyes.

“Shut up...” You shake your head, trying desperately to fight the urge to smile at him but when his face lights up with laughter, you have no other choice.

“Are you????” He insists loudly as he turns to sling his shirt over his shoulder, “I’m starving.”

The way he says the last part of his sentence is less funny as there is clearly some humor disappearing from his tone but, his charming smirk remains on his lips.

As he strolls over to you and, you almost have half a mind to retreat back into the house because, your ability to keep from ogling at him is slowly fading.

“I was going to make something with the broccoli I harvested this morning...” You insist, playfully turning away from him when he tries to lean down and kiss you.

"Kiss meee...” He pleads, pouting his pretty lips, the sweat still very present on his figure, “I’ve been working really hard.”

The way he whines at you is actually kind of hot and, coupled with his slick backed hair and his shirtless torso, it’s getting hard to bring yourself to remember why you originally came looking for your husband.

You oblige, kissing the salt from his lips, indulging in the musky scent emanating from his body.

Jungkook doesn’t like to be dirty but ever since moving to the cottage, he’s fallen in love with working outside and doesn’t focus so heavily on being spotless.  

“I came out here to ask you what you wanted to eat and, now you’re flustering me in the middle of our garden all over again.” You accuse, smiling against his lips, “You need to eat something, I didn’t see you take any fruit this morning.”

He rests his forearms atop your shoulders, grinning shamelessly, “If you weren’t so adamant on feeding me, I could be doing more than just flustering you.”

Jungkook really is an anomaly.

Hours earlier, he was crying into your neck over possibly letting out the bunnies and, now he’s using his charm and good looks to reduce you to a pile of lust.

Unfair.

“Did you not get enough last night? I’m pretty sure we were at it til after 1...”

Jungkook raises a brow, his grin never fading, “Did you? You’re the one pressing your thighs together right now.”  

“No, I’m not.” You lie but, to be fair, you didn’t even notice you were doing it until he pointed it out.

“Yes you are.”

“No, I’m just standing here.”

“Babe, we’ve been together for how long now? I know when you’re in the mood. I don’t know why you can never admit it.”

Because you’re stubborn.

You take one of his hands, leaving one of his forearms over your shoulder as you press a chaste kiss to his knuckles, “I don’t know why you think I’m in a mood. I’m simply asking you what you want for lunch and, its quickly turning into an interrogation.”

It’s impossible to hide the smile on your lips because, he’s completely right.

You are in a mood.

You've been in a mood for hours now.

Jungkook smiles softly, unconvinced, his thumb coming up to brush over your bottom lip, “Ok. Whatever you say. I need to shower really quick; do you need help with lunch?”

Are you disappointed that he didn’t keep at it? Yes.

Are you now left flustered and horny without a solution? Yes.

Do you still get a sense of satisfaction that your husband still tries to pursue even after so many years together? Also yes.

“Nope. I’m good. It should be ready in a half hour or so...” You lean up to press a kiss against his cheek, “Love you.”

A half smile comes over his mouth then, his eyes watching your lips, “Love you too.”

It’s later.  

You and Jungkook are sitting on your sofa, nestled under a blanket, eating homemade ice cream sundaes. The fire is crackling beneath the mounted television that is set to one of your favorite films whilst the world slowly goes to sleep outside your windows.

Life is sweet.

Literally.

“Yours looks so pretty jagi, how did you get the whipped cream to do that?”

Jungkook’s lips are pouted, his head tilting to get a better look at the perfect swirl of whipped cream atop your chocolate ice cream.

“I just swirled the can around in a circle.” You giggle, tucking your spoon into the fudgy scoop of ice cream in your bowl.

Jungkook is not satisfied with that answer at all and he looks sadly at the haphazard lines of whipped cream on his ice cream.

“Mine’s ugly...” His pout deepens, pushing his spoon around his bowl.

He’s freshly showered, his hair fluffy and damp, his skin moisturized and smelling like mint and sandalwood and now he’s pouting???

This man does not let you breath.

“It’s not ugly! It’s abstract.” You assure him, kissing the pout off his lips.

He doesn’t move even as you kiss him, his eyes eagerly looking towards the kitchen, “I wanna try again...”

The laugh that leaves your lips is unavoidable as you follow his gaze to the kitchen, “You want to try to top your sundae again?”

He deadpans, “Absolutely. I need to get this right. It doesn’t look like a sundae.”

“You’re just going to eat it babe, it’s fine. We can practice whipped cream swirls tomorrow.”

You’re still laughing a little bit and he’s chuckling too but the determination never leaves his eyes.

“No, nowwww.” He whines before pushing his bowl onto the coffee table and bounding over to the kitchen.

He plops back onto the couch, slightly out of breath with the can of whipped cream in his hands.

“Ok-” He grabs his bowl off the table and hands you the can, “Show me the motion again.”

You shake your head, smirking fondly at him whilst you set your bowl down where his was.

“Like this...”

You point the tip of the can downwards at his bowl and make a circular motion with your hand, glancing up towards him to insure he’s watching you.

“Ok- Ok I think I got it. Here...”  He gestures to the can, uncapping it before meticulously following the motions you demonstrated, and just like everything else Jungkook does, it comes out perfectly, “Yahhhhh letsgetiittttttt!!!!”

This has you in a fit of a laughter, your chest filling with joy at the sound of his excitement.

Jungkook shoves his sundae into your view, “Don’t laugh! See? It’s so much better now.”

You wipe the tear that’s forming at the corner of your eye, shaking your head at him, once more, “Yes baby, it’s so much better.”

He starts laughing again too because your joy is infectious and he is weak for your smile.

“Thank you. Your expertise is appreciated.”  

With that, he wraps an arm around you and pulls you into his side, placing a kiss on the top of your head, “You’re prettier than this sundae though don’t worry.”

You’re all too eager to cuddle in close with him, admiring the way he looks in his gray sweat suit and admiring the way he makes you feel even more.  

“I’m glad you find me more attractive than the sundae Jungkook.”

He just smirks, getting to work on his ice cream and as he pulls the spoon out of his mouth, he shrugs, “I find you more edible too but, you aren’t ready for that conversation.”

Although you know there is an err of immaturity to his jokes, they still affect you.

They make you feel like a giddy teenager, sick from the pure lust and attraction you feel for your crush.

The comment also sends a rush of heat to your cheeks but, you don’t say anything, you merely kiss his chest and cuddle closer to him.

He is satisfied regardless as he enjoys the fact that he can still make you blush, even if its with cheesy jokes.

The rest of dessert passes in comfortable silence.

Jungkook finishes before you and, offers to take the dishes to the sink whilst you straighten up the living room before bed.

As you’re folding the cream throw blanket that rests over the arm of your sofa, you feel two strong arms wrap around your waist.  

He wastes no time by slowly placing kisses down the side of your neck, his hands slowly up towards your breasts but stopping just beneath the swell of them.

“Is it that time jagiya? Can I make you feel good now?”  

His request is nearing a whisper, his lips brushing up towards your ear.

You lean back, resting your head on his shoulder whilst your hands settle over the tops of his.

After resisting him for the past 10 hours, you’ve grown tired of waiting.

“Yeah- it’s that time.” You whisper assuredly and at that, he spins you around, pressing his lips eagerly against yours.

His breath stalls a bit as your hands find his hips, squeezing gently whilst the two of you settle into the kiss.  

It’s getting too frantic for Jungkook’s liking as he has specific plans for you but, the way you’re kissing him and touching on him is getting to his headspace and he knows he has to stop you before you start kissing his neck.  

Because after that, he’s a goner.

“Come here...come sit on the couch for me.” He whispers into your mouth.

Jungkook has you on the couch seconds later, ridding you of your sleep shirt, leaving you in nothing but your panties.

Instinctually, your arms come around your stomach.

You’re not exactly insecure around your husband but, old habits die hard you know?

Jungkook immediately kisses his teeth, bumping your arms with his hand, “Ah ah...don’t hide from me please, I want to see all of you...” He assures you, as he has a million times but it never gets tiring.

To solidify his sentiment, he spreads your thighs gently and leans over and kisses all along your lower stomach, focusing on the areas he knows you don’t like.

He drags his nose across the band of your panties, looking up at you through his hair, “Did I ever tell you how beautiful I think you are?”

You giggle, brushing a hand through his hair to reveal more of his face to you, “I think you have yeah, once or twice...”

He raises an eyebrow, smirking at the sound of your giggle, “Once or twice? Aish that’s certainly not enough...”

“Maybe more than that...” You mumble, a shivering as he runs his nose along your panties again, one of his hands travelling up towards your breast, “All the time.”

He chuckles lowly, “That’s more like it.” He hums, pressing a kiss above your belly button as his fingers brush over your aching nipple, “It’s still not enough though...that’s why I married you. So I’d be able to tell you every single day.”

Your back arches against his hand whilst he slowly rubs over the sensitive skin, bringing it to a frigid peak.

“I love you.”  

It’s all you’re able to whisper at the moment because your arousal is starting to invade your ability to form sentences and he clearly has a plan to continue fucking with that.

“I love you jagiya...” Jungkook smirks, kissing over your stomach again before sinking onto his knees, “Can I tease you for a little bit? I wanna make sure your nice and ready for my tongue. That sundae didn’t fill me up enough...”

With a shaky breath you nod, parting your legs further but to be honest, you can’t imagine being anymore ready than you are right now.

“Close your eyes for me.”

You’re engulfed in darkness then, surrendering yourself to whatever he has planned for you.

“Thank you.” He kisses the top of your pussy, allowing his lips to linger there as he inhales, “Fuck- you smell really good. I know you’re probably ready now but, I really want to make you drip if I can.”

His comment causes you to inhale sharply, your nipples hardening almost uncomfortably as begins tickling his fingers up the length of your inner legs. His hands are so soft, so delicate as they touch you, stopping just outside the seam of your panties before travelling back up to your knees. Over and over again, he tickles your skin and eventually he starts tracing the edges of your panties with his fingers.  

“Touch your nipples for me. We’re almost there baby, just a little longer.”

He isn’t controlling you.

He isn’t in charge.

He just knows your body so well.

He knows how to make you feel good.

And fuck, if he doesn’t want to make you feel so so good.  

You follow his instructions, bringing your fingers to your nipples and rubbing back and forth over the tops of them, the sensations going straight between your legs as your husband continues his teasing.  

He slides his index fingers beneath your panties now, allowing the backs of them to brush against the lips of your pussy ever so gently, ignoring the throbbing knot of nerves that needs it the most.

When he’s done there, he focuses the tickling motion just on the outside of your panties, tickling his fingers up and down.

Over and over and over and over...

It’s getting a little overwhelming and, just when you’re about to say something he gasps in admiration.

“Oh look at that jagiya- you did it. You dripped all over your panties for me...”

He sounds genuinely proud of you and, you react to his praise instantly, your eyes opening to catch the smile on his lips.

The darkness in his eyes is obvious but there is mixture of adoration and deviance in there too.

He’s going to destroy you.

“Good girl...” He tickles his fingers over your panties once more before kissing the top of your kneecap, “Are you ready to get your pussy eaten now?”

Your fingers are still lingering on your nipples, your legs twitching at his touch.

You're completely enamored with him.

His praise is addicting and you never want it to end.

“Please.” You clear your throat, brushing a hand through his hair, “Yes please.”

He smirks, almost darkly as he kisses the side of your wrist, “My sweet girl...”

It’s the last thing he says before he’s slipping off your panties and getting to work.

He starts by kissing down the length of your lips a few times but, he knows that the time for teasing his over.

You feel his tongue between your lips then, searching for your swollen clit before getting to work on it.

As he licks you towards bliss, his hands are wandering all over you, squeezing at your hips, brushing over your breasts, rubbing at your stomach.

He wants you to know how much he loves pleasing you.

He groans at the taste of you, his dick hardening almost painfully, precum staining the seam of his sweat pants.  

“I- Jungkook I’m gonna cum.” You whisper, hands tangling in his hair as he focuses all of his attention on your clit, licking at it faster and faster.

“Mhm- I know, you’re twitching all over the place for me. Let me taste it beautiful...”

The pleasure launches itself into your senses then, taking up every square inch inside of your body.

You feel your toes curling against the carpet, the back of the couch damp with your own seat as you press your hips towards Jungkook’s mouth.

When it’s over, he’s kissing you and his eagerness accidentally causes him to bite your lip harder than he intends to.

“Shit sorry- I'm so worked up right now. Eating you out makes me crazy...” He whispers shakily and you actually feel for him.

His erection looks painful beneath the confines of his sweat pants and, you want nothing more than to suck the discomfort away.

“Me too- it's ok.” You assure him, brushing his hair away from his face, “Switch me. It’s your turn.”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

He’s on the couch, tugging off his sweatshirt, which was sticking to his skin, his hair a mess as he leans back against the couch.

His body is beautiful; tan, toned and covered in little marks that are specific to Jungkook:

Little moles, various old scars and tan lines from working in the sun so much.

He is beautiful, it’s painful.

Chest heaving with excitement, he ushers your mouth to his “Please ride it, I wanna hold you.”

Who are you to refuse him when he asks so politely?

After yanking his sweats off, you’re sitting aside him seconds later, kissing his mouth like your life depended on it.

“Wasn’t our sex life supposed to go stale at this point? What are we doing right?” He jokes, his hands roaming over your back whilst you line him up with your entrance.

“There’s something in the water up here I think.” You giggle and he follows suit, nudging your nose as he tugs you closer to him.

“Oooh good theory.” He smirks and as you sink down on him, he locks eyes with you, allowing you to see his most vulnerable self.

In the midst of pure bliss...

His eyes widen as you engulf him, mouth opening at the sensation before his forehead falls against yours.

“Fuck.”  

Bracing your hands behind his head, you start a pace you know will lull him into bliss, all while keeping your eyes on him.

The gaze is so intense between the two of you but with the only sound being labored breathing and your skin slapping together, Jungkook snickers.

“Why does it have to sound like that?” He whispers, burying his face into your neck when you laugh.

“It’s not a cute sound.” You agree, giggling despite sinking feeling in your stomach.

Jungkook’s dick is a work of art and it’s more fulfilling than anything you’ve ever experienced.  

It’s going to make you cum again regardless of the unsavory noises filling the living room.  

Speaking of cumming, Jungkook seems to be getting further away from humor as you start to bounce faster on him.

“O-oh shit. Okay- fuck keep going jagi. Please keep going- like that...” He moans now, which is something he only reserves to inform you that he’s really close, “Shit. It feels so good.”

To solidify his fate, you usher his face out of your neck to lock eyes with him again.

“Yeah? I want you to feel good. Are you gonna cum inside for me?”

“Yeah...” He nearly chokes when you tighten around him, holding onto your hips for dear life.

“Let me feel it beautiful. Cum for me.”  

Using his own words against him was a dirty move but, Jungkook makes no complaints and follows your instruction.

His stomach caves in with the force of his breath as he spills himself inside of you, digging his nails into your hips as he does.

You’re not far behind and with a hand between your legs and your husband whispering encouraging words into your ear, you soon meet the same fate.

The two of you stay wrapped up in one another for quite some time before deciding to clean each other up.  

Straightening up the living room was a fruitless endeavor as your clothes end up abandoned on the floor anyway.  

You simply can’t be bothered as you usher a very naked, very happy Jungkook to your bedroom.  

Beneath the cool cotton sheets, he pulls you against his chest, humming contently.

“I wish I could marry you again- that'd be pretty cool.”

In the darkness, you smile rubbing your face playfully against his skin.

“Mmm no. This time, I’m definitely marrying you.”

He scoffs, “Uh no. You married me last time. I wanna marry you this time.”

“Um? You literally proposed to me last time so no, you married me. This time I get to marry you.”

He snickers, “Oh so are you gonna propose to me this time?”

“Yeah- then I’m gonna marry the heck out of you.”

The lack of light prevents you from seeing how big his smile really is but, you do feel the kiss he places between your eyes, “Fine. I’ll allow it but, only because I love you.”

You unknowingly return his smile, hugging him tightly, “I love you too.”  

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Friday 7 June 1839

8 ¼

11 ½

gently rainy morning F60° inside and 57 ½° outside at 9 ¼ and went down to Robert Mann who had been near an hour ago wanting to speak to me – He came to speak to me about the burst up of water in Airgate mine – he and Joseph were afraid it was of serious consequence – they thought it was the dead water – I took this calmly saying it struck me at once that it would be best to give up the whole concern – but I would think about it and see him again after breakfast – breakfast from about 9 ¾ to 10 ½ - A- rode off to Cliff hill at 11, and I had Robert Mann (in the little breakfast room) from 11 to 1, and then sent him into the servants’ hall to dine with George who had just returned from Cliff hill with A- Had the estate plan and examined thoroughly into the circumstances of the dead water, meer-water, or Spiggs water and Robert and I clearly convinced that instead of a barrier of 60 yards (60 yards broad along the head of my coal-field lying up to the Spiggs water) the whole estate is not barrier enough – my coal is in a hole (as it were) and whenever we put down a pit, we have no better chance than at the water wheel engine pit (now for shortness to be called water pit) .:. for the same reason that the water wheel engine pit (now water pit) was abandoned, Listerwick pit and A.P. ought to be abandoned – and the farther we drive toward AP. the worse – Ended by saying I would stop where I was – and do no more mischief supposing the water met with to be really the dead water i.e. Spiggs water – to which Robert himself could make no objection but owned it would be best – for as I cannot loose my own coal without loosing that of all my neighbours, it is folly to pump for them gratis, and I will let the thing alone – the low bed coal being now got all around me in the dale to the north west, the empty space stands full of water and is the vis a tergo that pothers me – the water that burst up yesterday burst thro’ a master seam in the low bed stone, and lifted the corve up to the rood of the drift in an instant – the low bed stone lies immediately under the low (or soft) bed coal and is about 7 yards thick including the seat earth which varies in thickness – at Booth town it is 3ft. thick – but at Listerwick it is gone to nothing and the coal lies on the stone except a few inches of skegs a whitish, greyish, scaly sort of stone – this skegs pumps – and in this skegs yesterday and this morning 60 yards about from L.P. to A.P. (the whole distance = 150 yards) the water starts up – a stream as thick as a man’s arm – keeps one pump constantly going – Thomas Pearson and his brother George who had been waiting a long while then came in (about 1pm) and stood talking near an hour – Thomas came to introduce and speak for his brother who wished to take the upper Dove house (Pump, John Oates) farm – what rent? £80 – then they must give it up – they had thought of the old rent – no! I said that would not do should not let it again at £60 – there are £20 worth of cottages or easily might be – they talked

SH:7/ML/E/23/0060

and talked – I said I would not pledge myself to anything at present – should keep open for the colliery, or if I gave that up and built a worsted mill, for the mill – the tenant to be on written agreement to value on and off if he pleased – in which case, to pay of course the valuation of tenant right due to John Oates – It ended in my discovering that George P- thought of being married – wanted a place, and would in spite of the rent above named think about it if it was at liberty – I said JO. would certainly leave it – he had in fact given it up to me, and my sending him a notice to quit was a mere form – it appeared JO. had no idea of quitting unless he could get his valuation (that is what he himself thought he ought to have) – I said I had nothing to do with that – JO.’s valuer and Mr. Parker would settle that as also the matter of dilapidations – on the Pearsons’ going away about 2, sometime with A- and Mr. Horner – set them at work in the tower study – A- sketching the vale in water colours – then had DB. who said Holt measuring off, and wanted to see me and would be here in 2 hours – I had intended going to H-x to Messrs. P. and A- to tell P- to bring Mr. Stocks here tomorrow to hear what I had to say on the subject of the colliery – Perhaps we might come to some sort of terms as to the looses – I cannot let the coal as it is – nor should I under any circumstances unless (as I have always said) by ticket under conditions not binding me to take highest bidder, or in fact to let at all unless I had my price bid – waited for Holt talking to Booth about giving up the colliery and covering the pits with rag corves – then calculating the expense of building a small mill – 8 horse power = 12 worsted frames would require a 2 stories high building inside measure 14x13 yards outside measure 15x14 = 58 yards = 8 2/7 roods say 7 yards high including foundations and gable ends = about 60 roods double walling

including hewing work and everything at 35/. per rood = £105.0.0

Roofing at 42/. per square about 21 ½ squares = 45.3.0

Floor 16 ½ square at £3 = 49.10.0

Flagging ground floor, doors, windows, plastering, painting, sundries say = 50.0.0

Shafting = 50.0.0

299.13.0

a £300 job at least – power letting in the country at £18 per frame – I could not get more £10 or less= per frame the tenant having to find coal and fireman – I could not get a good permanent who would pay more than £10 a year – not worth my while –

Gave up the mill scheme – talked of Mr. Moores’ new mill to be built at Godley – 400 yards at 10/. bought of Mr. Carr – 12 horse power engine – Mr. Moore might buy my engine if 8 horse power would suit him – at this time came Mr. Barber junior to ask A-‘s leave and mine to shoot this year at last – yes! certainly – then at the moment confounding him in my mind with Mr. Moore alluded to the mill – this led to talk about mills and engines – Everbody building mills – there will be plenty of power to let by and by – said I should be glad to sell my water wheel, and steam engine too if I had not less pother about it – It was about 6pm. before Holt came – had the coal plans and a thorough talk over about the colliery and burst up of water – H- said it was impossible that the water should be the dead water – as positive about it as he was at first, about the water at the water wheel EP. (water pit) – but could give no reason for his opinion – all he could say was, it was impossible – consulted him about the coal to be got under level – how far would he have the water level driven – why not up to the upper brea boundary? – he would not do this on any account – for fear of loosing upper brea and Stocks and for fear of the dead water – the old work water from my uncle Josephs’ level begun in the upper bed at Mitham and the level spent by getting into the middle band stone [about] at Tilley holme stile – (it was this water, as we found on measuring its decease at the mitham engine pit, that beset us at the water wheel E.P.) – he would not cross the Leeds and Whitehall lower brea road on any account – and thought of getting the coal on the other side of the road up at Lower brea Daisy bank pit! – what said I and set up new gin and a new concern, and with the turnpike staring you in the face – oh! he had forgot the turnpike – if we do not go too near upper brea boundary and steal so as to leave them on the hollow, we can do no harm they being on the dib side – and will not the old works water be as bad for Lower brea pit as for any other? – H- got confused – he made it out, that Stocks and Wilson were bound to cut thro’ the throw that runs from Quarry house down to somewhere near Belvidere and then they must of necessity ease me of water – the fact is, I can never make much of Holt – I said he was not to have the farm unless he took the colliery – and that he was to plan and measure for us but that DB. would send for him when he was wanted – B. and he staid till 7 50/.. dinner at 8 – A- and I out at 8 ¾ for ¾ hour – walked in the Lodge road up and down – coffee on coming in at 9 ½ and came upstairs at 10 ¼ at which hour F60° inside and 58° outside – soft (mild) damp partly rainy morning fair in the afternoon and finish evening -

[dostthouhavenochill]

Performance

Rating: Gen

Fandom: Castlevania (Netflix)

Word Count: 2.6k

Characters: Alucard, Greta of Danesti, Sypha Belnades, minor OCs (mentioned)

Relationships: pre-Gretacard, Trephacard (mentioned)

Warnings: none

Summary: Alucard muses on how life has changed since the head woman of Danesti, now Belmont, and her people have settled about his home.

The clearing was relatively quiet that afternoon, with the odd settler or two roaming around, enjoying a moment’s rest after doing their part in the rebuilding effort for the day. The setting sun warmed Alucard’s skin as he sat against a large oak tree. Strong winds shook the branches above his head, sending bursts of orange and red drifting about him. He brushed errant leaves out of his basket and plucked out a dark spool to finish his mending.

Aaliya and Rahim, bless their hearts, were the most rambunctious out of all of Alucard's children. So it came as no surprise when a few hours ago, Rahim came to him with pieces of what used to be a stuffed horse, “His name is Sumac, Father!”, wailing his dark eyes out. Alucard promised to make time to mend him by the end of the day. The toy was a well-loved thing, with stains and misaligned stuffing, all evidence of a boy who took his friend everywhere he went. The horse’s reddish-brown fur was now a muddled sepia and its once cream mane and markings now gray. Alucard just about had his fill of bloody horses, but he could make an exception just this once.

He wasn’t resting alone though. After depositing lumber and stone for Solomon and his building team, Greta settled beside him. She only dozed off a short while ago, but not before giving a knowing chuckle at his project and a snark about how he was finally as used to people as people were used to him. Absolutely maniacal. He couldn’t find room to complain.

So much had changed in just these last four months. Alucard would be lying to himself if he said that it wasn’t jarring to go from months of solitude to human interaction and back again, a hellish cycle that always seemed to end with him alone. But with the settlement of the people of Danesti, now Belmont, that cycle had been broken. Funny, considering how he had been hesitant towards the idea.

Except hesitant wasn’t an accurate description. Initially, Alucard had to wrestle with his desires for both solitude and companionship. As much as he longed for the latter, Alucard wasn’t prepared for its magnitude. Saint Germain, for all his scheming, offered a reasonable solution to a suffering people. Only that reasonable solution left Alucard feeling bare and scrubbed raw, as if the entirety of the world made itself at home in his ribcage before even giving him the courtesy of undoing the frog of his cape first.

Those first nights after the battle was when the enormity of his hospitality truly began to set in. He lamented the loss of his solitude. Protection, knowledge, and safety-he would never hesitate to offer, but with so many rooms holding so many personal memories, he’d unintentionally left his soul bare to all. He remembers all but dashing ahead of Greta while showing her the food supply to hide his makeshift companions from her teasing, scrutinous gaze.

But...it was nice.

It had been so long since the halls were alive, filled with laughter and with people milling about the halls. It hardly ever seemed like he was alone now. His role as champion along with Greta’s say-so granted him a founding role in Belmont and as such was bombarded with questions daily; someone asking for aid, someone asking for instruction, someone...just asking how he’s faring that day.

From beside him, Greta, with her arms crossed, snored softly. Alucard let out an undignified chuckle. For someone who had such hasty and scathing observations about settling at Castlevania, she seems quite content.

Greta wasn’t wrong when she called the Castle cold. Alucard remembers plenty of nights alone, abandoned, shivering and craving nothing but someone, anyone, to ease his loneliness. His mother. His father. Belmont. Sypha. Anyone. But after Sumi and Taka’s betrayal, Alucard began to appreciate the aura Castlevania emanated. It’s dark, cavernous windows and ominous silhouette, looming and judging those who came across it, a warning sign to all. It stood imposingly with cautionary tales skewered at its lip. Greta was simply experiencing the emotions Castlevania intended to elicit from oncomers; the cold, fear, and danger.

Even so, after everything that’s happened, Alucard couldn’t help but feel a sense of welcome and warmth in those dark, cavernous windows.

The windows that led to the study where Adrian spent years on years learning a multitude of languages, preferring the ones with lots of “s’s” because of the way it slithered off his tongue.

The windows that led to the southwestern dining room, where an infantile Adrian nearly chomped off his mother’s finger whilst she tried to stop him from swallowing a frozen carrot he’d been teething on.

The windows that led to the science hall, where he, Sypha, and Trevor spent the last few blissful days of their union getting drunk and blasting off various spells into the ceiling to see what would happen.

Yes, there had been plenty of warmth in the Castle, even before it had been graced with the people of Danesti. Almost every room he can recall with a smile and a fond tale. He’d had to convince Greta, he thinks. He can already imagine it; the disbelief on her face when he tells her he learned to shapeshift into a dire pup in a conservatory, a room filled with foliage and beakers and sunlight and all sorts of breakable things. And he can imagine telling her that Lord Dracula himself had to call for aid from his wife when their son burst through a window and pranced about nude in the outdoor sun. He can imagine that curious wrinkle in her brows before she thinks of something, immediately says it, and rarely regrets it.

He can imagine telling her so much about his childhood. About Vlad and Lisa Țepeș. About growing up the only dhampir, to his knowledge. He can imagine telling her so much about his past and about, ahem, possibly their present; what’s changed since he met her and what’s stayed the same. The tangled but firm bundle of feelings she’s elicited from him. He’ll have to ask for her time one day, one day when she isn’t exhausted from doing the work of half a dozen persons in a few hours time and taking a well-earned break.

Alucard was broken from his musings when he saw Sypha striding up to him in the distance. In the midst of Sypha’s pregnancy, her passion and spitfire were amplified. As such, she had enough of all the side looks and loaded barbs between them all.

They had talked, Trevor and Sypha and Alucard. They talked about feelings, about abandonment and betrayal and neglect, about Trevor and Sypha’s child also calling Alucard father. About how it was almost too soon to make such a leap, feelings too raw. About sentiments that could have, perhaps should have, been properly expressed before fucking off across Europe. About regrets and pain, about trust and building it back up. It wasn’t ruined, but it was worse for wear. Nothing that some regular maintenance wouldn’t help.

Alucard almost stands to offer Sypha a hand, but she politely declines, saying that if she gets down, she won’t get back up as easily. Besides, she was only here for a quick thing. Then, she took note of the sleeping Greta, and lowered her voice, saying, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so still before.” Alucard was inclined to agree. With her coat draped over her lap, and her head lopped to the side, Greta looked at peace. The tasks of a head woman were never-ending, it seems.

“What brings you out here, then?” Alucard asked, once he was able to drag his gaze away from Greta’s sleeping form.

“Rahim was looking for you,” she cocked her head, giving him a puzzled look. “He said that you would help him find some sumac?.” Chuckling into his chest, Alucard ties off the thread on the poor thing's left haunch and passes it up to Sypha.

“I believe I stitched together all the bits of his Sumac as best I could.” Alucard wonders if Sypha even heard him over all her soft albeit consistent cooing.

“Alucaaaard. I never knew you were so good with a needle,” she spoke as she ran her fingers lovingly through its sullied mane. “With the state of Trevor’s socks, he could learn a thing or two from you.”

And then the most terrifying thing happened; Sypha got The Look. To the casual observer, looking at the duo of Belnades and Belmont, one would think that the former was the sensible one. And they wouldn’t necessarily be wrong. However, what the casual observer typically fails to notice is that Sypha, for all her grace and intellect, was at least half as crazy and twice as impulsive as Belmont himself. Arguably, she was at her worst when she got mischievous, and the only tell for that was a distinct Look; one where her impossibly large eyes sparkled and her lips twitched like a kitten holding onto a canary for a little too long.

“You knoooooow,” she began, sounding like a child all too eager to tell an adult about some fact they recently learned, a fact that they had no business knowing. “It's never too early to start preparing things for the baby-books, clothes, toys and things. Perhaps little Trefor would appreciate something personal from his Alucard. Mayhaps if you had any miniature dolls of his parents lying about,” her bright eyes squinting in mischief, “Or something like that.”

Alucard would’ve liked the earth to swallow him whole or for a wayward night creature to snatch him away into the woods. He would’ve liked a multitude of things, but he was stopped by a soft snort coming from behind him. He turned to see Greta trying and failing to suppress a smirk.

With her eyes still closed, she gave up her storybook act and said, “I’m sure sunshine here could pull something off. Yours and Trevor’s resemblance is quite striking.” Sypha howls with laughter, calming herself only after Alucard throws her a glare, all the while blush painting his...well, everything. He sighs, turning back to Greta.

“I hadn’t known you were such a fan of my needlework.”

“Well, I hadn’t intended on saying anything.” Greta barely got her last word out before Alucard rounded back, still mortified.

“Quite unlike you. I ought to be worried.” Greta cracks open an eye at that, playfully raising an eyebrow at the dhampir.

“I thought you were asleep,” he said indignantly.

“I don’t know what gave you that impression,” Greta closed her eye again, crossing her arms behind her head, “ I was merely resting my eyes.”

“And your heart rate?” Alucard bent an arm against his leg, resting his chin in his palm and gazing at her through lidded lashes. “If I had poorer hearing, I would have almost certainly mistaken you for a sleeping person.”

Greta raised a single finger. “Almost. Key word: almost.”

Rolling his eyes under closed lids, Alucard said, “You would make an excellent performer, you know.”

“I am a woman of many skills.”

“Indeed. One day, I imagine you might even be able to successfully imitate a rock.”

Greta effortlessly lands a hit against Alucard’s thigh. There’s no real force behind it. It’s the same friendly banter they’ve always shared, the same heat that fills his chest, the same stir it causes in his gut, and the same burn to the spot she touched.

“Smartass.” As she draws her hand back, the smirk on her face never drops.

Alucard, chuckling and chest warming, cocks his head back to Sypha to ask if she needs anything else from him and is surprised to see an intensity in her widened eyes. Wide as they were when they first entered the Belmont hold, large and curious and flickering as she combed through every book she could find, devouring any new information at her grasp with a thrilling quickness. Before the embarrassment at being perceived settled in his bones, Greta spoke up, this time to Sypha, making her eyes softer than usual.

“How are you and the little one today, Sypha?”

“We’re well, thank you,” Sypha takes her hand and rubs it across her slowly increasing bump, giving the head woman a pleased grin. “I see you’re taking a well-earned break.”

“Nothing wrong with a little rest,” Greta shrugs, relaxing further back against the bark. Her brows get that curious wrinkle, however, and she says, “Especially for those of us with child who’ve been running about since dawn.”

Alucard takes solace in the fact that the air around Sypha tingles ever so slightly and he is, for once, not subject to embarrassment. If Greta sensed Sypha’s chagrin, as she almost certainly did, she didn’t make it known, aside perhaps from the cute crinkle around her eyes and nose.

But Sypha recovers much faster than Alucard ever has, giving Greta a self-satisfied smile. “I’ll have you know I wasn’t up and about until after the sun broke.” She then releases a long sigh. “But between Trevor, Khadijah and the other healers’ constant fretting, you’d think I was on my last legs instead of giving life.”

Mischief incarnate would do well to take note of Greta of Danesti, with a hand propped under chin, a single digit tapping her cheek, and a dangerous glint in her burnished eyes. “Foolish of them, then, to disregard the woman who battles night creatures regularly and moved an entire fucking castle as incapable of anything.”

“Foolish indeed!”

Alucard cast a sly gaze towards Greta, naughty of you to rile her up like this-Belmont is sure to get an earful later. Coy is never a word he would’ve ascribed to the head woman, but the curve of her lips and flutter of her lashes had him reconsidering.

Sypha says her goodbyes and goes to return the horse to its rightful owner. Stopping short, she looks back to Greta and says, “I don’t think you have much room to talk, however, Head Woman Greta of Danesti-now-Belmont-who-wakes-with-the-sun-and-slays-night-creatures-and-carries-lumber-and-.”

Greta ducks her head, sending the Speaker off with a wave, “Enough of that, Belnades.” She lowers her hand, her brows creasing as she says, “Thank you and be well.”

As Sypha departs, Greta settles back against the tree. With nothing to keep his hands busy, Alucard joins her in relaxing in the setting sun, hands folded in his lap. Being immortal, the dhampir never needed excessive amounts of sleep to function, per se. Perhaps he would just rest his eyes and enjoy the company. 

Alucard sighs as the cool breeze passes through his hair and picks up fallen leaves, carrying them across the clearing. Then he sputters as one flies straight into his mouth. The dhampir gets no warning as Greta’s soft hands pull his hair aside, causing him to jump slightly. Her slender fingers pick out the foliage from his hair and shoulders before tossing them to the ground beneath them.

She can’t stop herself from letting out one last chuckle at Alucard’s expense. “Are you sure you don’t have anything better to do that loaf about with me, sunshine?” Her tawny eyes held still against his. Alucard arched his head back against the tree to appreciate her gaze.

“Nothing in particular springs to mind,” he doesn’t bother smothering the smirk growing on his face, “Besides, as I understand it, Khadijah has ordered you to loaf about after your mishap two nights ago.”

That earns him quite the eyeroll. “Khadijah, the worrywart, would order me to loaf about if I tripped over a stick.”

“Tripping over a mere stick?,” he lilted, “ I’d think he’d need to examine your head if that ever happened.”

Another thwack. Another burst of heat. Only this time, Alucard held fast, catching her hand before it could completely fall away. Greta startled at his reflexes, her head teasingly cocked aside as her eyes flicked from his to their joined hands. Before he lost his nerve, Alucard placed his other hand atop hers, giving it a soft squeeze and resting it in his lap. “I’m sure. I’d much rather be here than anywhere else.”

[writerinnight]

Oh! An imagine for George Weasley! A snowed in day or something soft, warm, and romantic?

Warm with you (George Weasley)

A/N: thank you so much for your request! I loved this idea! (I’ll keep working on the other requests as well thanks for sending them!) hope you like it!

Pairing: George Weasley x female!reader

-

The snow hit roughly the castle and Hogwarts was colder than ever at this time of the year, the chimneys where on, the gigantic trees Hagrid had brought inside were beautifully decorated and already in the great hall making it look more wonderful, outside the castle the only color anyone could see was white and the best was that the Christmas break was near making everyone excited about it.

(Y/N) woke up not really in the best mood, she didn’t like the cold at all, it made her uncomfortable having to put on so many layers of clothes making her feel like she couldn’t move at all trying to keep the heat of her body. She went downstairs to the great hall yawning, other reason she didn’t really liked the cold weather was because it made her more sleepy than she already was on a normal day. Thankfully today it was Saturday so she didn’t have to struggle with not falling asleep in class. She arrived sitting down beside her boyfriend not saying anything to him or her friends focusing on trying not to close her eyes.

“Morning grumpy” George said noticing the frown on his girlfriend face giving her a hug and kissing the top of her head. (Y/N) felt warm almost at the instant he hug her even though she was wearing two shirts under her sweater.

“Morning love” she answered looking up at him and giving him a quick kiss him on the lips testing a bit of the pumpkin juice George had already begun to drink.

George Weasley was easily the only person that could get her through the winter days, especially on the mornings of winter days because even on normal weather days (Y/N) wasn’t the nicest when she was hungry in the morning, to everyone else she rather not say anything instead of saying anything she would regret. The redhead made the cold less annoying and was the only one that would get her to have fun and forget that she didn’t like the snow at all making her get into snowball fights, making snowman’s and snow angels too.

“Here you go darling” George said again handing her a cup of tea, when she took it it made her hands feel warm and she loved it. He knew very well that his girlfriend wasn’t the biggest fan of the snow or the cold so whenever the weather was like that he tried his best for keep her as happy as she could be with the freeze.

“I really don’t know what I would do without you” she said making George smile.

“I know right?” She smiled to herself and decided to start eating hoping to get in a better mood with a full stomach, and when thankfully she was in a better mood she started talking with Lee, Fred and Angelina. When the conversation of the next quidditch match ended it quickly changed to how the twins were planing on prank Filtch.

“We can get Filtch like that!” Fred said like a master mind really excited and got up ready to start his plan along with George and Lee.

“No no” (Y/N) quickly said grabbing her boyfriends wrist and pulling his sweater in a attempt to make him sit down but he just stood there “Today it’s my day” she said looking at Fred “He’s mine for today, you can do that tomorrow”

“Oh please, I will borrow your precious boyfriend just for a couple hours, it’s not like I’ll be snogging him like you want so badly to” Fred replied putting one of his arms on George’s shoulder and (Y/N) felt how the heat traveled to her cheeks and knew that they turned red.

“I stay” George quickly said looking at her “then we can-”

“Take him” she said letting go of George’s wrist laughing by how dramatic her boyfriend reaction was when she said it, like she had offended him.

“You’re the best (Y/N)!” Fred said beginning to pull his brother but before he could go further away George went back kissed (Y/N) and whispered ‘thanks love’

As soon as George walked out of the great hall she began to feel the uncomfortable cold around her, it was just so much easier to keep her hands from getting cold when they intertwined with her boyfriend’s, or noticing how cold the tip of her nose was only when George placed a kiss on it, feeling his warm lips, it was even more amazing how with only a hug all of his body drowned hers in a cozy feeling. After saying goodbye to Angelina (Y/N) decided to head to the common room, not wanting to spend more time than the necessary in the cold stone halls. Hearing how the wind and snow hit the tower and other students got into a conversation, she decided to end some homework on a couch not realizing when she fell asleep.

George walked into the common room searching for the girl he loved more than any other, and he quickly found her asleep in one of the couches her face resting on a uncomfortable position in her shoulder and her arms hugging herself, even if there where a lot of other students speaking not so quietly it seemed like she couldn’t hear them because she looked so peaceful. George couldn’t help himself to admire the girl, everything in her was perfect, her lips that were a bit parted, her nose that had a soft pink touch in it probably from the cold, she looked so peaceful and yet so gorgeous. Deciding it was better if she was asleep in her own bed rather than in a couch with a lot of noise he headed where she was sleeping, even if there was already noise he went trying not to make any more noise.

“Hey, darling wake up” he whispered putting his hand on her arm and rubbing it gently but the girl only frown and kept sleeping, George’s didn’t want to wake her up and scare her so he begun placing little and soft kisses first on her forehead feeling how her skin wasn’t as warm as he would like to and then to her cheeks and one on the top of her nose noticing under his lips that her nose was in fact cold, looking at her again she had already opened her eyes.

“Hey you” she said beginning to stretch which caused George to smile by how cute she looked, but for George everything that girl did was either awesome or cute “What hour is it?” She said looking around as some students headed to their dorms.

“Not so late” he answered sitting by her side “I think you slept well didn’t you?” he took the girls legs and placed them over his.

“Yes I did, and I finished my homework” she said pointing to some parchments that where folded over on a table. Suddenly George slipped his hand over one of her sleeves, it was something he used to do, checking if she was warm because he knew so well she hated beign cold.

“How is it possible that you are under all that clothes and still be cold woman?” She laughed at his face, he would worry too much sometimes which was cute.

“I don’t know the cold adores me” George stood up and took her hand guiding her to his dorm which thankfully was empty and no other guy was there “what are you doing?” She asked looking how the readhead searched for something between his clothes, finally taking out a sweater with a big ‘G’ on it.

“Here wear this” he said handing it to her, the sweater was rather large for her and it felt heavy when she took it “but this time don’t bother in giving it back”

“I can’t just steal it from you” she replied

“It’s not stealing, I’m giving it to you and I have other sweaters to weas” she still didn’t look convinced enough “I don’t want to see you shivering anymore and the only times you were really comfortable you were using this” she smiled knowing he was right “and besides you look gorgeous”

“Okey I will keep it” she started getting out of her sweater, George got close to her taking the corners of the shirt she had under it pulling it down so it wouldn’t slide with the sweater.

“See gorgeous just like I said” George couldn’t help himself admiring her wearing his sweater, getting close to her putting his hands on her waist.

“Thanks for this, all of it” she said smiling “you really don’t have to” she reached for his face and softly rub her thumb on his cheek, the readhead relaxed at her touch.

“There’s no one else I’d rather do it for” he said pulling her even closer and kissing her. He felt her lips under his, colder than his and decided it was his duty making them warmer deepening the kiss.

“Sorry, I’m always cold” she said breaking the kiss but not getting away from him.

“Lucky you I’m here to warm you up” he said and hug her from the waist making her feet lift up the ground and finally placing themselves on his bed making her laugh by his action.

“I love you” she said looking at his eyes, that shown that happiness, mischief and love that she adored.

“I love you too” he replied placing a kiss on her forehead and then one on her lips instantly feeling satisfied with himself noticing how her lips weren’t as cold as before.

[lilyvandersteen]

The Christmas Guest Chapter 9

Author’s Note: Are you ready for some Klaine kisses? I’m sure you are, so enjoy :-)

Read Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 and Chapter 5, the Interlude, Chapter 6, Chapter 7 and Chapter 8 here on Tumblr, or read the story on AO3 or FF.net.

Chapter 9: Kisses

Kurt woke up in what seemed like the middle of the night when all of a sudden, he went from toasty warm to cold. Where was that duvet? Oh, there it was!

Kurt tucked it close around and underneath him and tried to nod off again. He’d almost succeeded when the duvet was cruelly snatched loose again and a pillar of ice - or was it a boulder of granite? - was shoved against his back. He shivered and tried to push it away, but it wouldn’t budge. Gradually, the stone slab warmed up and softened around him, but not before he’d woken up enough to realize it was actually Blaine’s body. Why he’d ventured out of bed at such an ungodly hour was anybody’s guess, and Kurt hoped he’d make no more such excursions. He wanted to sleep at night, damn it, and preferably until he felt fully rested, thank you very much.

He tried to slip back into sleep, but now he felt too disgruntled and keyed up to manage that. He stayed still and tried to empty his mind. That wasn’t easy, because he was hyperaware of Blaine’s presence – his chest pressed against Kurt’s back, his legs entwined with Kurt’s, his arm slung over Kurt’s waist, his warm hand on top of Kurt’s and his thumb moving back and forth in a soothing pattern.

And then Kurt let out a wordless gasp, because… was that really a love declaration he’d just heard from Blaine? Surely, that was Blaine being sleep-drunk and not realizing whom exactly he was in bed with, right? Right?

Blaine seemed to fall asleep right after that, but Kurt lay awake staring at the ceiling until he heard Carole get up, and decided to go downstairs too. Might as well make a nice Christmas breakfast for everybody, now that he couldn’t sleep anyway.

Carole looked surprised when he entered the kitchen, and then worried. “Are you okay, honey? Is your throat troubling you again?”

Kurt shook his head and helped himself to coffee. “Just couldn’t sleep anymore, so I came here to do some baking.”

By the time Blaine showed up, Finn had already had three helpings of French toast and was pestering Kurt to take his Christstollen out of the oven already so that he could have a slice. “Mom won’t let me have more French toast, ‘cause Blaine hasn’t had any yet.”

Kurt rolled his eyes at his impatient brother, and ignored him as much as he could.

Blaine seemed uncomfortable when the time came to exchange Christmas presents, but cheered up when he remembered he had gifts in his luggage that were apparently generic enough to work just as well for the Hudmel family as they would have for the Andersons.

Looking up from the gifts he’d just unpacked, Kurt saw Blaine hug Carole and beam with pride when she thanked him. His father seemed just as pleased, inspecting a set of… were those beer glasses?

As Carole had remarked before, Blaine seemed part of the family already. Kurt could so easily imagine a life with Blaine always by his side from now on. So clearly that it hurt to realize this might be snatched away from him as soon as their break was over and they had to head back to New York.

Kurt got a lump in his throat, and his eyes pricked. Once again, he found himself wishing that someway, somehow, they could untangle the mess they’d made of things and turn this into something real.

K & B

New Year’s Eve arrived, and though Kurt was looking forward to seeing his friends again, he was nervous as well. Rachel, he could deal with, but he hoped Mercedes would react well. She might be just as angry as Rachel that he hadn’t told her about Blaine yet. They hadn’t talked in several months, but still. And Santana was sure to be a nightmare. He hoped she wouldn’t scare Blaine off by asking him all sorts of invasive questions.

As usual when he felt stressed, he avoided everyone else in the house, and spent far more time choosing his outfit and getting ready than he otherwise would. He didn’t leave the sanctuary of his room until Finn threatened to leave without him.

At least all the prepping and fussing about his appearance hadn’t been for nothing. Blaine was gaping at him, struck speechless with admiration.

Well, that made Kurt feel much better already, so much that he didn’t even roll his eyes at his father’s loud warnings and instructions before they left.

When they arrived at the party, Rachel lit into Kurt at once, letting him have it for keeping silent about Blaine. After living with her for so long, Kurt knew Rachel inside out, and won the argument deftly, without so much as raising his voice.

Mentally high-fiving himself, he introduced Rachel to the newcomers, and then led the way to the makeshift bar, on high alert when he spotted Santana there.

He braced himself for crude remarks, but she let them go with barely an innuendo. He might have guessed she had other mischief on her mind, like tampering with their drinks. When Blaine pointed out she’d spiked them, Kurt felt his temper flare up, but he knew a confrontation with Santana never ended well for her opponent, so he just took a deep breath and slipped away to the kitchen for three soda cans.

Mercedes waylaid him as he was heading back. As he’d guessed, she wasn’t too pleased at being left out of the loop. Kurt weaseled out of that by telling her he had waited until he was sure Blaine was there to stay. “Every time I tell you I have met someone new, I’m always convinced it’s going well, and then after three dates, I find out they’re only in it for the hooking up. And I feel so ashamed, you know? So this time, I wanted to be sure this was going to last.”

Mercedes’ glower disappeared, and a thoughtful look replaced it. “And you think it is? You must, or you would never have taken him to meet your dad.”

Kurt nodded, and before he knew it, he was talking his friend’s ear off about Blaine, telling her how sweet and caring he was, how beautifully he sang, and how he had charmed everyone in the Hudmel household in two seconds flat. “He’s… He’s amazing, ‘Cedes. I… I could see myself marrying him. Not that… I know it’s way too early to be thinking along those lines, I know, but…”

Mercedes grinned. “Aww, someone’s smitten.”

Kurt bit his lip. There was no denying that, unfortunately.

“Hey, I’m happy for you, boo. You deserve this. But he better treat you right, or I’ll rip him a new one.”

Kurt sneaked a look in Blaine’s direction, and saw to his horror that he was being interrogated by Tina.

Uh-oh, I need to go rescue him!

“You’re not listening to a word I say, are you?”

Startled, he whipped his head around, and saw Mercedes fake-pout at him.

“Sorry, ‘Cedes. You were saying?”

Mercedes shook her head, smiling. “We’ll talk later. You go and get back to your sweetheart.”

Kurt didn’t have to be told twice, and hurried to the love seat where Blaine was sitting. To his relief, Blaine was holding his own, telling Tina their fake meet cute story with relish, his eyes shining.

Kurt grinned happily and took over, pleased at how Tina lapped it all up.

When the story came to its end, Kurt saw Tina’s eyes flitting to Cathy, who was sitting next to them. Finn was nowhere near, and Cathy seemed very ill at ease.

Making a mental note to berate Finn for abandoning his girlfriend at a party where she knew practically no-one, Kurt turned the conversation to Tina, and she was only too happy to catch him up.

Mercedes joined them, and Kurt forgot about anything and anyone else as he chatted with her. It had been ages since their last phone call, and even longer since they’d seen each other in person, but their friendship was such that they could pick up where they had left off as if no time had passed at all.

Kurt was so focused on Mercedes that he was startled when Blaine asked him something.

Oh! Blaine! Oh wow, so much for berating Finn… I’m just as bad as he is! No, even worse. I’m forgetting all about Blaine while sitting on his lap!

And what was that Blaine was saying?

Mercedes cottoned on faster than Kurt, and announced for the whole room that Kurt and Blaine were going to sing together.

What?!

Before Kurt knew it, Blaine was tugging him along to the karaoke stage. He felt off balance both mentally and physically, stumbling over his feet and not feeling at all ready to sing.

Blaine, instead of giving Kurt a minute to compose himself, laughed away his concerns, and then, just when Kurt was about to lose his temper, Blaine gave him a sweet kiss on the hand and a smile so sunny that it warmed him from within and made his anger melt away.

Okay, okay. I can do this. I can.

They chose a karaoke classic Kurt had sung before, and he was pleased to note that their voices blended extremely well. In that respect, too, Blaine was a great match.

Kurt beamed at Blaine when the song came to its end, feeling invigorated.

It took only one moment – and one infuriating friend – to ruin his mood. Rachel came to congratulate them, and in the same breath, she demanded to sing with Blaine too.

Blaine, as accommodating as ever, seemed willing to duet with Rachel, but Kurt wasn’t having any of it.

Too long had Rachel swooped in and taken everything Kurt had his eye on. Not this time. No.

He sent Rachel a death glare, and with a loud “No!”, he grabbed Blaine’s hand and led him away from her, his blood thrumming “Mine” with every step he took.

And then suddenly Santana was there blocking their way and taunting him, and Kurt’s frustration with this whole situation reached its boiling point, and he shouted at her to leave them alone.

Seconds later, he regretted his outburst, but the damage was done. Santana narrowed her eyes and smirked and started making insinuations, and he was so sick of this. It turned out being teased about your relationship wasn’t much fun when there was no actual relationship to make up for the teasing. Nothing but a sweet guy who went along with pretty much anything people asked of him. Not just Kurt, and he would do well to remember that. They’d established some kind of friendship, yes, but that was all.

Suddenly, he felt bone-weary, and his response was lackluster. How soon after midnight was too soon to leave a New Year’s party, anyway?

He turned to Blaine to tell him he was tired and wanted to go home, but before he could get the first word out, Blaine gave him an intense look, cupped his face in both hands and kissed him.

It wasn’t a gentle peck on the lips. Blaine’s kiss was deep and heady from the start, as if he wanted to tap into Kurt’s very essence.

Kurt, reeling inside, grabbed onto Blaine like a lifeline, because his legs felt like rubber all of a sudden, and his head was all woozy.

Wow. So that’s what kisses are supposed to be about. I’ve been missing out.

As soon as he’d gotten over his initial surprise, Kurt got with the program and started kissing back, winding his arms around Blaine’s middle, closing his eyes and just enjoying the moment.

He would gladly have kissed Blaine the whole night through, but reality intervened, in the form of a very drunk Quinn bumping into him and jolting him out of his kiss-induced haze.

“Sorry,” she slurred, but Kurt paid more attention to the countdown going on. “Six! Five!”

So it wasn’t New Year yet? Then why had Blaine kissed him all of a sudden?

“Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!!”

Everyone around them cheered, and Blaine moved in for another kiss, this one soft and sweet.

“Happy New Year,” Blaine whispered.

“Happy New Year.”

Kurt hoped his face didn’t show all the questions that were running through his head. They still had appearances to keep up, after all. They could discuss this when they were back in his bedroom.

Blaine gave Kurt a soft smile and moved in to nuzzle and kiss his neck.

Ooh, that feels good!

Kurt’s eyes snapped shut of his own accord, and he threw his head back to allow Blaine better access.

Moments later, a voice broke through the thick haze of arousal.

“Ugh, take your soft porn somewhere we don’t have to see it!”

Santana. Apparently, she hadn’t left when they started kissing.

Kurt opened his eyes to tell her she’d done worse with Brittany right in front of him, but before he could speak, someone else said, “Speak for yourself, San. I’m enjoying the show, boys, don’t stop!”

Quinn! Behind her, Sugar, Rachel, Tina and Mercedes were grinning and nodding, and even Puck looked intrigued. The only one who looked slightly nauseated was Finn, but Cathy was beaming at Kurt and winking.

“I think we’re ready to go home,” Kurt announced. “Finn, Cathy, are you coming with us or do you want to stay a bit longer?”

The four of them walked home in silence. Kurt’s head was still overflowing with questions, but he didn’t want Finn to overhear anything, so he kept them all inside.

He shivered in the crisp winter night, and Blaine immediately slung an arm around his waist and pulled him close.

“Better?”

“Much.”

And it was. Kurt happily basked in the body heat Blaine provided, and looked forward to having Blaine warm his icy feet in bed.

They snuck in silently. Finn had clearly decided that if Blaine could sleep over, then so could Cathy. Finn threw Kurt a defiant look, daring him to say something, but seemed only fair to Kurt, so all he said was “Goodnight” before he led Blaine upstairs.

They undressed in silence, and it wasn’t until they were snug in bed, Kurt soaking up Blaine’s heat greedily, that they spoke. Both at the same time.

“Why did you kiss me?”/ “Sorry for kissing you without asking first.”

Kurt turned to look at Blaine. In the moonlight, his expression was serious, and his eyes soft and pleading.

“I… didn’t mind. I just wondered… Why?”

Blaine ducked his head. “Santana was… I thought… It seemed like a good idea at the time. To allay suspicions.”

Kurt digested this. “So it was just for show?”

Blaine swallowed before he answered, his Adam’s apple going up and down, and then he shook his head.

With bated breath, Kurt waited for him to say something more.

“I like you, okay?” Blaine then whisper-shouted. “I know we got thrown into this by a misunderstanding, and we’re not really boyfriends, but I would like to. You’re amazing, Kurt. And these past few day have shown me that we click really well. Do you think… Would you want to…?”

And then it was Kurt moving in for a kiss, clumsy and off-center and full of teeth because they were both grinning into it.

“Yes. Yes yes yes, please. Let’s try this for real.”

[seokjinsdisciple]

Enemy

johnny x reader (literally all smut, i dont know what to say)

you absolutely, 100% loathe johnny suh. what happens when you find yourself stuck in an elevator with him?

I FINALLY WROTE PART TWO

UNEDITED

word count: 3k (johnny has me messed up this comeback, ok?)

warnings: language, thigh-riding, fingering, elevator sex, degradation, choking, hair-pulling, overuse of the word kitten, johnny eats his cum from you, theres probably more because suddenly im a whore for johnny, this is just a cesspool ok

You were rushing back home, you had forgotten your textbook for your biology class, and your professor would be using problems from it all lecture. You didn’t want to have to deal with her wrath by not bringing it with you. So here you were, sprinting through the streets in the hot summer air, with the sun beating down on you as you headed towards your apartment. You caught your breath as you strolled into the air-conditioned lobby, groaning as the elevator doors started to close. You love your apartment, you really did, but the elevator was so slow, and someone was moving in today, making it almost impossible to catch. And you didn’t want to have to take the stairs up to your 12th-floor apartment. 

“Please hold the elevator,” you yelled as you ran, slipping inside just before the doors closed. As you turned to press your floor, you noticed who you were sharing an elevator with. To be more specific, you noticed who you were sharing the elevator with who was also holding a moving box. Johnny Suh stood before you. Annoying, attractive Johnny Suh. 

Johnny just stared at you, mischief in his eyes and he rested the box he was holding on his hip and gave a little wave in your direction. 

“Are you following me or something, Suh?” you asked, groaning as you realized the 11th-floor button was already lit up. 

“In your dreams, nerd,” he laughed, leaning his head back against the elevator wall. You stood as far away from him as you could, putting in your headphones and praying that he would leave you alone. You and Johnny were self-proclaimed enemies. He was in your science class the very first semester of your freshman year, and when you were assigned together for a group project, your feelings were set in stone. Not only did he spend the whole time bothering you, but he ended up not doing any work, leaving you to finish the project by yourself. After that, it seemed like he followed you around, in fact, this was the first semester since you started college that you didn't have a single class together. Yet here he was, moving into your apartment building and most likely on your floor. 

You would be less annoyed by him if you didn’t find him as attractive as you did. He bothers you all of the time, but you still had your fair share of angry sex wet dreams that he was the star of. You shook those thoughts from your mind as you glanced at Johnny, he was smirking at you, something you just rolled your eyes at. 

“What’s got you all hot and bothered?” he asked, setting down the box and slipping his hands in his pockets. You glanced at the floor count of the elevator, groaning as you realized you were only on floor four. 

“I hate these elevators,” you mumbled, ignoring the fact that Johnny was getting closer to where you stood. 

“You’re blushing pretty hard, nerd. Whatcha thinking about?” he grinned at you, lowering his face so that he was staring at your profile. You refused to turn to look at him. Johnny would never fail to get on your nerves, it's as if he had a gift for it. You were just praying, hoping that this whole elevator ride would be over soon. At that moment, the elevator shook, dropping a little bit and, with a loud screech, jerking to a stop. 

Johnny’s body pushed you into the wall, the force of the stop causing you both to stumble. He quickly got off of you, curse words falling from his lips as the lights in the elevator flickered. 

“Why?” you groaned, your voice rising as the lights came back on, “fuck, Johnny, what the hell do we do?”

“I don't know! You are supposed to be the smart one!!” he ran his hands through his hair in frustration, his voice clearly showing how freaked out he was. 

“God, this is probably because you’ve been using the elevators all day to move-in.”

“What was I supposed to do? Carry my couch up 11 flights of stairs by myself?” Johnny hissed back, kicking the box near his feet. 

“Why are you even moving in anyways, get kicked out of your frat house?” You rolled your eyes, you wouldn’t be stuck in this elevator if it wasn't for him. 

“You don’t know a single thing about me nerd, so I suggest you shut up,” Johnny snarled, sitting on the opposite side of the elevator. You followed his lead, sitting against the wall across from him. Neither one of you looking at the other. 

You desperately checked your phone, letting out another sigh as no service flashed at the top of your screen. 

“Check your phone to see if you have service,” you demanded, watching hopefully as Johnny pulled his phone out, pressing the power button once. 

“It’s dead,” he said, letting his head fall back onto the wall with a thud. 

Twenty minutes after the alarm button on the elevator was pressed you feel the first bead of sweat form on your forehead. You took a deep breath in, and tried your best to ignore the growing temperature of the room. You took a quick glance at Johnny, he was clearly feeling the heat too. 

“Is it getting hotter?” you asked, fanning yourself with a folder you had in your backpack. 

“The air conditioning must’ve broken too,” Johnny said, meeting your eyes for a second before muttering, “I can’t stand this anymore.”

Your eyes bulged out of their sockets as he threw his shirt off, smirking at your expression and quirking his eyebrow.

Your eyes were drawn immediately to his sculpted abs, his chest somewhat sweaty but just the perfect amount. You coughed a little, trying to cover up your blatant staring but Johnny just laughed at you, spreading his legs and giving you a better view. 

“Fuck off, Johnny,” you rolled your eyes, looking away from his toned stomach. 

“Please, nerd, the least I can do is give you a free show,” he chuckled, running his hand through his slightly sweaty hair, “You seem to be enjoying it anyway, so why should I stop?”

“I only looked because you are sweating and smell gross,” you replied easily, looking away before your eyes dropped any further. 

“Whatever you have to convince yourself of,” Johnny winked at you, silence filling the elevator again. 

If you thought it was hot before, it was exponentially hotter now. Your mind not able to get the image of Johnny’s perfectly sculpted body and how his muscles would look as he... enough. You shook those thoughts from your head, the stickiness growing between your thighs despite your efforts to calm down. 

It was like Johnny knew what he was doing to you. He kept biting his lips, running his hand through his hair, and worst of all he turned his groans into moans. You had every desire to cover your ears and pray to God for forgiveness. But it was too late. Your thoughts had already descended into a place that you couldn’t recover from without… taking care of some things. 

You tried to keep cool, but your rising body temperature is due more to a handsome young man than the broken ac. It was becoming too much for you to bear, the heat and tension filling the elevator finally sending you over the edge. 

“Fuck it,” you muttered, throwing your shirt off and practically moaning as cool air hit your tummy. 

You glanced at Johnny, his gaze firmly set on your black lace bra, his tongue poking out as he readjusted himself on the floor. 

“Want a free show?” you asked, smirk mimicking his own when he had asked a similar question earlier. 

“Are you trying to seduce me now, nerd?” Johnny’s voice practically growled, his voice now gravelly and his eyes burning into the side of your head. 

“I don’t think it would take much of an effort,” you smirked, meeting his darkening eyes. 

“Oh really?” he asked, an eyebrow rising at your statement, “I don’t think I’d have to work that hard either.”

You just scoffed at his statement, more heat filling your body as you thought about what his words could mean. 

“What makes you think I’d be that easy, hm?” You shot back, gulping as Johnny let out a laugh. 

“Because I can see the wetness through your shorts love,” he winked, you body immediately flushing hotter, “gray looks good on you.”

“Shut up,” you snapped, moving your legs so you were covered, “It’s not like I can’t see the tent in your shorts.”

“Then come take care of it for me?” Johnny asked, spreading his legs as an invitation. 

“W-what?” you questioned, your heart beating much faster than it had been a moment beforehand. 

“Oh don’t get shy on me now, kitten,” Johnny smirked, “you’ve been so outspoken and such a little brat today. No need to become speechless now.”

“Ok, ha. Ha. Very funny Johnny,” you rolled your eyes, “jokes over. You can quit messing with me.”

Johnny just tsked at this, his voice sending an immediate jolt to your core,“It’s too bad, kitten, I really could’ve helped you with your little problem.”

You both sat in silence for a minute or two, the urge to touch yourself growing the more you thought about the words Johnny had spoken to you only a minute before. You fidgeted in your spot, avoiding Johnny’s gaze and praying that someone, anyone would open those elevator doors so you could go home and pass out against your vibrator. Your fingers played with the hem of your shorts, a moan threatening to spill from your mouth at even the slightest touch.

“Fuck,” Johnny whispered, grabbing your hand in his own and pulling you onto his lap, “If you wanna cum, ride my thigh.”

You squirmed on his lap, your first instinct to slap him and crawl back to your side of the elevator, but your slight movement was just enough friction for you self control to snap. You buried your head into his shoulder as you situated yourself against his thigh, your hips gently rolling against his flesh. His hands found their way onto your hips, guiding you back and forth to increase your pace. You whined against his collarbone, the pleasure exactly the kind of relief that you needed. 

“I knew you could be good, kitten,” Johnny praised, forcing your hips down further and tensing his thigh, a full-blown moan leaving your mouth then. 

“Sh-shut up,” you moaned, “No talking.”

Johnny landed a swift slap on your ass then, the sting still felt through your shorts, “You don’t make the rules,” he growled, stopping your hips and shoving your shorts and underwear down. He slipped a finger between your folds, a groan leaving his mouth as he stared at your core. He met your eyes, his face turning from horny to serious. 

“Do you want to do this?” He whispered, his eyes not leaving yours for a second. 

“God, please Johnny. If you don’t fuck me right now, we really are going to become enemies,” you begged, hands finding their way to the waistband of his shorts and pulling them down. Johnny took no more than a second to snap back into his previous persona, a growl leaving his throat as he grabbed both of your hands with one of his. 

“Do you really think you deserve my cock?” He asked, “You’ve been such a little brat, why should I help you, hm?”

“Johnny please,” you begged, wriggling in his grasp, your hips trying to find some sort of friction. 

“Even now you are just a needy little slut, trying to get off,” he whispered, a groan leaving your lips as another slap landed on your ass, “Poor little kitten, can’t come on her own, needs someone's help.”

You whined as Johnny flipped you over gently, balling up his shirt and using it as a pillow for your head.  Then he kissed you, and not surprisingly to you, he was a really good kisser. His passion and desire were clear as he kissed you, making the locking of your lips a good kind of messy. 

He dipped his fingers into your heat as he kissed you, stretching your lips apart so that you would adjust to him more easily. He quieted your moans with his mouth, pulling away briefly to press a kiss to your temple and shimmy his shorts off. 

Johnny cupped your face once again staring into your eyes and asking a silent question. You nodded in response but he just tucked a piece of your hair behind your ears and said, “I need words, please.”

“Johnny please, I want this,” you spoke quietly, and that was enough for him to press another kiss on your lips and sink himself into you. You both groaned at the feeling, pleasure immediately building as he bottomed out. 

Johnny’s hand caressed down your face until it made its way around your throat. Johnny’s eyes flickered to yours in order to sense any sort of discomfort, but he practically growled as your eyes rolled back. He tightened his grip slightly, sending just the right amount of pleasure through you. 

“I always knew you were a slut, like when your hole is filled and you can’t breathe, hm?”

You nodded, a whine tearing from your throat as he reached his other hand in between your bodies and made contact with your bud. His thrusts were deep, and you swear the elevator was shaking, but you didn’t care. Pleasure surrounded you, Johnny’s hand wrapped around your throat couldn’t even stop the moans from leaving your mouth. 

The coil in your belly was tightening, and as Johnny rubbed at your clit and hit spots within you that no one had ever hit, you came. Your whole body spasming and your eyes rolling back into your head. Johnny moved his hands up and down your sides, soothing you as he continued to thrust. When he pulled out of you, a whine tore through your throat, not ready to let go of the fullness that his cock provided. 

“Don’t worry kitten, I’m not done with you yet,” he smirked, holding out a hand in order to help you move around, “Hands and knees, now.”

You complied easily, used to taking orders from him now and wanting him to fill you up again. You let him readjust you, and when he pushed himself inside you couldn’t help but tighten around him. Johnny cursed, gripping your hips tightly and thrusting harshly to try and get you to relax. When you did, he landed a sharp smack on your ass, a moan leaving your lips before you could stop it. 

“I never gave you permission to come kitten,” Johnny said, his breath uneven but his trusts staying strong. He grabbed a handful of your hair pulling it just hard enough to send another bolt of pleasure through you. His hand hit you again, your eyes fluttering shut at the pleasure. 

“So tight, kitten,” he grunted, his hips rocking into yours at a monstrous pace, “like being used?”

“Y-yes,” you moaned, too caught up in the pleasure to think about who you were saying that to.

His pace was getting more erratic, and his grunts were becoming louder when he reached his hand around you and attached it again to your sensitive bud. 

“Cum, YN,” he demanded, his hand making up for the inconsistent rocking of his hips. You came easily, not realizing you were as close as you were. With your heat tightening into a vice grip around Johnny’s length, he came. The twitch of his cock inside you causing another spasm around him. He hissed, pressing a light kiss to your shoulder as he pulled out. 

“You ok?” He asked, helping you sit on your bum and rubbing your sore knees, gently. You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to even out your breathing, and that's when he struck. 

You felt his tongue lapping at your sensitive core, your eyes shooting open at the sudden pleasure. 

“Johnny what are you-” You started, but a long swipe of his tongue made you shut up. 

“I’m cleaning up,” he added, the mischievous grin that he always wore was back on his face. He buried himself back into your core, spreading your lips with his fingers and licking into your heat. 

None of the people you had ever been with had made you cum twice, but here you were building up into a third high. This one seemed to be more due to the fact that Johnny was eating his own cum from inside you. A thought that made your heat pulse. As Johnny licked, he rubbed your extremely sensitive clit with his index finger. He was gentle and attentive to anything he did that seemed to be too much for you. He resumed his focus on your clit after intertwining his hand with your own, allowing you to squeeze it as you came once again on his tongue. He licked you through your orgasm, your mind completely blanking as the pleasure overtook you. When you were done, he pulled you onto his lap, pressing a kiss to your nose and helping you fix your hair. He helped you pull your clothes back on, and when the door to the elevator was pried open, he hid you from the view of the whistling men who had come to save you. Johnny had never been so sweet with you, and as he helped you inside your apartment and into your bed, only one thought was running through your head. 

Maybe you didn’t mind having Johnny Suh as your new next-door neighbor at all.

[whyiask]

Just a Stupid Dare (ch.9)

Masterpost Ao3 Link tws: u!dark sides (not as much virgil anymore), peer pressure(???) i don’t know, Janus is just generally a Not Good person, some swearing notes:.....hahaha.....long time no see...... so things have been a bit busy lately and I'm almost ready to hop back onto my consistent posting schedule. For now, enjoy this update :) expect more consistent updates starting again soon <3 thank you all for reading (please feel free to drop by my askbox to yell at me about this fic! i would absolutely love it.)

Virgil swallowed nervously. Why wouldn’t he be nervous? What was he even supposed to tell them? ‘Oh, so you know how I was supposed to befriend Roman so that we could hurt him? Well turns out, I actually like being his friend and now I don’t know what to do.’

Yeah no. He had to think of something better than that.

Janus was staring at him expectantly, coldly. Virgil had to bite back a shiver at the downright murderous glint in his eyes.

Remus pushed past him into the house, pulling out a miniature metal detector and moving towards the pantry. Virgil watched him go, slightly confused but used to the odd behavior. Janus watched him leave impassively.

“What. The fuck. Was that about.”

Virgil opened his mouth to respond but Janus cut him off with a sharp wave of his hand.

“And don’t even think of lying to me.” The words were cold and quiet, and Virgil couldn’t stop the tiny flinch.

His mind raced. What did Janus want from him? To hurt Roman. To bully an innocent peer. Right. He could work with this.

“I- uh-” He cast his mind around, searching for an answer to the question. He himself didn’t know what the honest answer would be. What even were they anymore? Were they, dare he say it, friends?

No. He couldn’t get his hopes up. It’s too late for that. He was already neck deep in this mess, and it would be unfair to Roman to start being genuine now, ignoring his past malicious intent.

“Time,” he blurted out, panicking at the sight of Janus’s eyebrow slowly creeping up his face. “I just need more time.”

“Time to do what, exactly?” Janus’s stare was piercing and Virgil forced himself to commit to the lie.

“Time to befriend him. He doesn’t fully trust me yet. Today was a big step, he finally felt comfortable enough to come over, but you two showing up might’ve thrown that back a little bit.”

The lies tasted bitter on his tongue. There was no way he could carry through with the plan, he couldn’t. He couldn’t hurt Roman, when all Roman had been was kind and charming and ridiculously endearing and-

Janus’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. It was like someone had flicked on a light switch. His eyes cleared of their hard anger and distrust, and his lips twitched into a semi-smirk.

“That’s… actually not a horrible plan. I didn’t think you’d be sticking to this so much.” His tone was mildly impressed, and Virgil felt his heart swell a little in pride, before shaking himself. No. This was the guy who wanted to hurt Roman. (When had Roman become such an influence in his decisions? He didn’t know, he would never know.)

“Yeah, well, you know what they say about me.” Virgil shrugged awkwardly. Janus barked out a laugh and Virgil felt his muscles relax a millimeter.

“Oh, do humor me. What do they say?” Janus’s tone was teasing and Virgil hummed a reply. This felt so natural, so easy. He could almost forget about how scared he had been not a minute earlier.

“I never do anything half-assed. BS’ing my way through a project? I’ll go all out. Anxiety? Better go all out and make it severe anxiety. Befriending a nobody to ultimately backstab them? Well, never let it be said that I don’t try my absolute hardest to get it right.”

Virgil was almost ashamed of how easily the slander rolled off his tongue. This wasn’t right, he shouldn’t be talking about Roman as if he were just some random kid. Janus laughed again.

“Let’s say… a week, then,” said Janus, eyes glinting with mischief and glee.

Virgil was jolted out of his thoughts. “A week for what?”

“A week to befriend him, utterly and completely. If you flake out, I won’t blame you. I bet it’s pretty hard to pretend to like that absolute loser. I bet $20 that you’ll drop out before the week is over. Prove me wrong, Virgil Summers. Prove me wrong.”

The last words were barely above a whisper and Virgil gave Janus a mini mock salute.

“Maybe I will.”

Remus popped out of the pantry, effectively ruining the moment.

“He trusts so easily, honestly. The wimp tried to befriend me at first, but I showed him what’s it’s really like to be a Stone. He gets so attached and so so emotional. Like waah waah, I don’t want to be your friend, you fuckin naked mole rat.”

Janus laughed and Virgil forced out a laugh too. Remus ranted for a few more minutes about his step brother, before finally moving on. The Dark Sides stayed over for a few hours, and Virgil felt himself relax into an easy state around them again. It was only after they left that he allowed himself to think.

Virgil turned away from the door and something caught his eye. Roman’s jacket still hung from his coat rack. He lifted it off gently and held it gently. Looking at it closer, he nearly snorted with laughter. It was knee-length and dramatic and so unbelievably Roman. He could not imagine a single other person pulling off such a fashion statement, but with Roman, the long trenchcoat and round, tinted red glasses worked.

Roman could probably pull off anything, no matter how dramatic of a statement, if he was being honest. But like usual, Virgil’s main hobby included lying to himself and everyone around him.

Lies… weren’t his favorite thing. They were much more Jan’s thing, what with manipulation and the works. He preferred to work behind the shadows, where no one could see and question him, where he wouldn’t be put on the spot and forced to sound convincing enough to alter someone’s perception of reality. Sure, he might be fairly good at stretching the truth, but that was just that. Based on truth. Based on a solid foundation to work with.

He was getting away with so many lies, and that scared him. He didn’t want to be a liar, not to his closest friends. Janus and Remus and Roman- when had Roman made it onto that list?

As much as he hated to admit it, Roman was one of his favorite people, ever. He had one week. One week to figure out what to do. Who to pick. One week.

It was altogether way too much time and not nearly enough.

He looked down at the ridiculous coat in his arms. One week was all he had.

After that… who knew what would happen. It would be over. He wasn’t quite sure what was going to end, but in his heart, he knew something would never be the same again.

One week.

He didn’t have a fucking clue on what to do.

Only one week.

He took a deep breath. He would enjoy this, as much as he could. He would treasure this time with Roman and he wouldn’t think too hard about what was to come.

He’d burn that bridge when he got to it.

[bastardsunlight]

08 & 20 for subscorp if ur still doing the kiss meme?

❛  08 .   a  kiss  in  secret  /  a  forbidden  kiss . ❛  20 .   a  kiss  out  of  desperation .

I swore an oath to protect him, I think to myself as I slide along the cliff’s edge, hugging it closely, careful not to scrape or to breathe too loudly. Kuai Liang, Bi-Han’s younger brother, has taken up the mantle of Sub-Zero. He is more deserving of it than the former, but I cannot say for certain if his end by mind had was truly justified. I know my mistakes—I am well acquainted with them. Truly, I believe that, should he have risen to Sektor’s position of “Grandmaster”, one the wily bastard has hardly earned, he would be no better, succumbing easily to the temptations of power. Quan-Chi might have orchestrated my family’s end, but the Lin Kuei are also responsible in their compliance and complacence. I will not forgive them. But he—Kuai Liang—has not wronged me. I make amends this way.

Far below, he moves like a shadow with his companion, a man I have heard called Tomas, though I know him better as Smoke. Both are talented, young, and filled with potential. They are also going to their death if they continue on this path, but despite my oath and Kuai Liang’s knowledge of it, I doubt my presence would be appreciated so suddenly. Words will not convince them, so actions must. I clamber higher and make myself invisible, relatively speaking, working my way around for a better vantage point to the ambush.

It is a superbly-laid trap. Some loyal to Sektor—with or without his orders, it matters not—have devised a snare for the offending Lin Kuei. These kryomancers have no morals, no scruples, and do not balk at destroying their own for their ideals of perfection. I spit at these ideals, though I dare not do so now. I am too close, by far. Sometimes, I forget what I am… that they cannot see me if I do not wish to be seen, to a point. I am not invisible, but as a wraith, I can become… other. I sink into the cliff side, disturbing a single stone, but their attention is so drawn that not a single one of the Lin Kuei cowards detects me.

And they won’t, ‘til it is too late.

The trap springs and I am acutely aware of it as I leap forth from a ring of Netherrealm magma, kodachi at the ready. It is as blazing hot as the rest of my body and sears through flesh and bone without effort. I am a monster and in these instances only, I am glad that my wife and son are not here to see what I have become. It serves its purpose, however.

Below, Smoke and Sub-Zero—he has more than earned this; I can feel the chill of his kryomancy even from the perch I have turned into a killing floor—are more than holding their own. Should fortune favor me, I will retreat without detection. I grind another enemy’s head to pulp as a spear-like icicle flies past my shoulder, singeing it with frost. I cannot quite tell if it had been purposefully aimed, or if the fatigue of battle has begun to affect Sub-Zero. It is my cue to go.

“Wait!” And he is scrambling up the cliff side, leaving Smoke below to inspect the fallen and deduce what, precisely, is happening. I could divulge this easily, but I am doubtful whether or not my words, the words of Shirai-Ryu, bitter enemy to the Lin Kuei, would be taken with any veracity. What holds me back defies logic and I find myself irritated and showing my back to Sub-Zero, who could easily put another, better-aimed spear of frost through it.

“Kuai Liang,” I respond, finding no reason to beat around the bush that I know him.

“I will not ask how you know me. You knew Bi-Han.” His arms are still coated in that frost—I can feel the chill—and I can tell that he has a much more stable, controlled, and focused handle upon his ancient, Edenian gift. “I will ask why you helped, Scorpion.”

The name makes me stiffen. It is me. I am Scorpion, but part of me wants to be anyone else. Part of me resents the stinging name, appropriate as it is. The sharper the sting, I have often found, the more accurate the barb. I turn my gaze, but only just enough to see him from one eye.

“A debt.” It is a blood debt, simply put. I may have murdered Bi-Han in bitter error, but I do not regret it—be that as it may, I owe his kin a debt of blood for the misplaced killing. Sometimes, I wonder if I would have done something different, knowing Bi-Han’s hand had not directly brought death to my family and clan. To this day, I am not certain he participated in the massacre and cling ever harder, therefore, to the debt I owe his brother.

“You owe me no debt,” he responds, approaching and laying one bold, chilly hand upon my shoulder, gripping firmly and turning me. What there is to see, I cannot fathom.

“I cannot pay a dead man.”

“You owe Bi-Han no debt, either,” Sub-Zero insists, gripping harder. His other hand moves swiftly. I am a fool, I missed the subtle cues. The free hand is suddenly upon my mask, pushing me back into the stones of the cliff and freezing the metal of it. I must look terribly surprised, because for an instant, a flash of guilt crosses his admittedly handsome, youthful features. “He chose his path. The murder of your clan… He would have done it anyway, Quan-Chi or no, but it … it was he who retrieved the foul sorcerer. Please believe me… Grandmaster Hasashi.”

Why is he speaking so calmly as his fist crushes my mask, breaking it to pieces and tossing it away. I am a wraith, not a man. My face is abhorrent, a skull awash in the flames of my ire. There is nothing about me to see which does not strike terror into gentle hearts, which his must be.

“You do not know me, Sub-Zero,” I insist, hearing the sepulchral tones of my own voice and hating them. How much more grating must they be to the ears of the living?

“But I would know you—a man worthy of the title of Grandmaster at such a young age… A man with honor.” The grip upon the mask, which had crushed it, has changed to a firm hold of icy certainty.

“I have no honor left,” I insist, “only vengeance, and a blood debt.”

“That you keep to this debt shows me you do possess honor… and skill.” There is mischief in his voice, but also sincerity. His smile, I have to admit, is captivating and his eyes are a fathomless, Stygian blue, like the deepest waters of the sea or the dark of a winter night. There is a surprising amount of warmth behind them, despite his physical chill.

He is close, too close, and I am forced to remember the way his brother handled me—the way we handled each other, if truth be told. Our trysts were brief, violent, and voracious, as if we could never get enough of the other, but at some level, that we could not stand our own desires. This is simpler, more straightforward in its admiration, and the control he has over his kryomancy is remarkable. Upon this alone I could admire Kuai Liang. He is a prodigy. But then, so was I, once.

As he leans into me, I realize just how much I crave contact, of just about any kind, but of worthy adversaries most of all. There is no doubt in my mind that defeating him would not be easy and I long to put that theory to the test.

“I do not have long,” he admits, almost sheepishly, “and this may seem sudden, but I had to catch you before you left… I know you have been keeping watch over me, Scorpion, but I did not know how to thank you. Should my clan know of our contact...” He trails off and I know exactly what will happen.

“Do not thank me,” I warn. “Just stay alive.”

“Liang!” Smoke calls from below, evidently approaching the cliff face, meaning to climb, or ambulate however he might do that. Sub-Zero stiffens and, with a single, furtive glance, turns his full attention upon me. Without warning, I feel our lips pressing together, his covering mine hungrily and my own opening helplessly to the odd, invasive sensation of desire… of being wanted. I am to surprised by the gesture to wonder how the flames have been so becalmed. I wrap my fingers in the front of his gi, intent on tossing him back and disappearing in a firestorm when suddenly, he pulls away, looking guilty and shaking his head, turning toward his friend’s voice.

“Six up here,” he calls back, “and scorched with the fires of hell.”

“It’s him again, isn’t it?” Smoke responds, sounding worried. Kuai Liang glances over one shoulder at me. I have yet to recover myself and lean, breathless—as if a wraith could draw breath in the first place—against the rocky wall. I can, at any moment, sink into them and disappear, but my mind is rebelling against any and all action.

I want more.

I need more.

“We have to assume,” says Sub-Zero, eyes fixed upon me. He is buying me time to escape and—perhaps I misread him—promising further contact at a later date. “But whomever continues to guard our flanks, Smoke, is welcome to it.”

He looks me up and down once more before returning to Tomas, far below. My dead heart beats harder and faster inside me and everything in me fights against the urge to allow myself to be overcome with such things. It would be in poor form, would it not, to engage in a tryst with the younger brother of a former lover.

Would it?

KISS MEME

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Untitled Lindir fic - Sneak peek

@mismaeve that awful enabler has encouraged me to write another AU (that I shall work on as soon as I get some of my present WIPS closed)

Nonetheless, here's a tiny snippet to see if anyone would be interested in this :D

Summary: Lú is sent to Elrond's establishment for a spot of corporate espionage for her boss and father-figure Thranduil. Backed up by her best friend Legolas and her boundless energy, she'll embark on a journey of ludicrous mishaps and genuine kindness. Especially her new boss's right hand - Lindir - keeps her on her toes. Will she find happiness in the small, cosy tavern...we certainly hope so...

Words: 640

“Lúthadis,” Thranduil sighed, “that girl would be better in a tavern.”

He liked his son’s best friend, he truly did; she was the kindest soul one could imagine, but that very sunny nature was what made her – in his opinion – so entirely unsuited for the establishment he was running.

“Are you saying that Elrond deserves something good you’re not able to cope with?”

Legolas was leaning against the doorframe, his fluid, elegant limbs draped carelessly against the polished wood.

The idea took hold in his father’s mind, thriving and unfolding at the speed of light; Legolas was not wrong, he could kill two birds with one stone.

“Lú,” he called, “come over here, please!”

She was an amazing waitress – punctual, diligent, and charming – but her ebullient nature made her stick out like a sore thumb in the high-end, hushed, gold-and-velvet spa-hotel Thranduil was running; discretion was key and Lúthadis was anything but subtle.

Even as she made her way over, her dark auburn hair – curly and wild unlike anybody else’s – bobbed like a fire over her pale face with those startingly green eyes that ever sparkled with mischief.

“Yes, boss?” she chirped cheerfully, the dimples in her cheeks deepening as she gave the old stick-in-the-mud a fond smile.

“How would you like working for Elrond for a bit? I need to know what makes him so damn successful when he’s running basically a tavern with rooms upstairs…”

“Corporate espionage,” Lúthadis grinned, “that sounds like fun.”

“Well no,” Thranduil huffed, “maybe a little. Just look around some and ask some questions.”

The truth was that he was bored out of his mind, and he hoped that his – hitherto benign – rivalry with the cute little inn down in the valley would spice things up during the lull of the season; it might – incidentally – also do the girl some good to see a different kind of establishment where she might fit in more easily.

“Alright,” pleasant as ever, Lú agreed easily to her boss’s proposition; on her way up from the village, she had – herself – noticed the beautifully drawn sign in the front window that advertised a vacancy amongst their staff, and she was more than eager to find out what kind of house Elrond ran.

“Who is she?” Lindir looked at the door of his superior’s office nervously as if the new recruit would come bursting through it at any moment, armed to her teeth.

“I’m sure Thranduil sends her,” Elrond smiled, knowing his apparent rival better than the man himself suspected, “she’s one of the kids having grown up in the treehouse.”

What the people around here called affectionately ‘the treehouse’ was a stately, beautiful manor house that Thranduil had transformed into a refuge and oasis within a dense forest of dark trees; known to be contrary and haughty, that very same man had a legendary soft spot for animals, plants, and a random gaggle of kids that could demand anything of him.

“She’s one of his?” Lindir asked breathlessly; he was much less inclined to extend good faith to that colourless, arrogant creature that was Thranduil de facto.

“She has excellent references,” Elrond declared in a decisive tone, “and you’ll show her around.” The fact that the astonishingly small and curvy young maiden was every bit as surprisingly and uncharacteristically beautiful as people said was only an added bonus for the older man; he liked Lindir and he was convinced that it would do him some good to interact with a woman who did not yet know how utterly sweet but helpless he was.

“What’s her name?” Lindir asked, turning around at the door, already sweating as he thought of the stranger about to barge into his peaceful life.

“Lúthadis,” Elrond informed him, “and she truly is enchanting; you’ll see.”

That, Lindir thought, was exactly what he was dreading.

So, here we go...let me know what you think :D

[giogio-gucci-gangstar]

Oranges Have Feelings Too

Thank you @hoetaro-kujo for entering my little writing raffle! Hopefully you like this!!!

Summary: You and Mista enter a prank war against Fugo and Narancia. 

CW: Nicholas Cage 

“Babe?” Mista called from the other room. You shifted in your seat. Your head was still dangling off the edge of the couch as you bookmarked the page of your latest mystery thriller, eventually sitting up.

The world spun a bit as he blood rushed out of your head before you replied. “Yes?” You were a bit hesitant. You weren’t sure if this was going to be one of his sweet and sassy moods, or if he was already scheming for some fun. Either worked for you, even though you were on the shyer side, Mista and the gang made you feel comfortable to be yourself. It also helped that you loved Mista and everything he did. 

As you walked to the kitchen to meet him, you tried to smooth down the wrinkles in your hoodie. 

“So,” Mista threw a nut into his mouth, “remember THE INCIDENT?” By the way he said it, Mista was definitely hinting at something specific. But with him, there were too many incidents to count. 

“When No. 5 got scared and tried to crawl up your-“ Mista cut you off quickly.

“GOD NO!” While that event had been traumatizing, for both of you, it was not the incident he was referring to. Given how he nervously bit his lip, it would seem the incident he was talking about rattled him more emotionally… 

“Ya know…” he managed to spit out. He made a few incomprehensible hand gestures and continued, “the one with Narancia and Fugo?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively, hinting that you should definitely remember what had happened with them… Simultaneously refusing to give you any more details. 

“Oh come on Mista stop being so cheeky and just tell me!” You were getting a little frustrated at this game of his. 

But he just batted his eyes at you from across the kitchen, “I thought you liked my butt cheeks…” 

“Oh shut up!” you were a little flustered so it took a moment to carefully choose your next guess. “Was it when we walked in on Fugo and Narancia kissing?” You offered. 

“Noooo! How many times do I have to tell you, they weren’t kissing! They were just trying to bandage the cuts from where they had stabbed each other! At most it was a brotherly hug.” He was getting frustrated now. Apparently the incident he was talking about was too difficult to physically talk about. 

“Ohhhh was it when they, ya know, wrote,” Mista’s eyes bulged terrified that you would say the cursed word, “a certain scary number, all over your clothes?” Mista was shaking from the memory. 

It had been a terrifying day for him. He nearly pulled his hair out because he couldn’t find a single article of clothing without a number 4 written all over it in black ink. You had never seen him so stressed, clothes were being thrown all over his room, and lights broke, but his high pitched screams pierced all other noises. 

“Yes yes that one!!” Mista was flailing his arms around, so excited that you had guessed correct. 

“So now that I’ve won your little game of charades, will you tell me why we’re playing?” You couldn’t help but tease him back. The boy was so outrageous your sarcasm just dripped when he was around. 

“Well,” ah there was that glint in his eye. He was already incredibly handsome, but when he was feeling mischievous his eyes were almost radiant. He puffed out his chest a bit and he folded his arms with a certain swagger. 

“I have found a way to get revenge.” 

“Oh really?” You leaned over the kitchen island looking at him. “And what might that be?” Sure it was probably a little immature to scheme against your teammates, who hopefully weren't eavesdropping from their rooms down the hall. But a little prank war was necessary for morale, no matter how many times Buccellati and Abbacchio insisted it wasn't. 

Mista’s face lit up in a maniacal grin, “I’m going to convince Narancia that some fake facts are true!” He was so excited he was practically vibrating. 

“Remember how angry Fugo was when Narancia told him the earth was flat? It's like two birds with one stone! Tricking Narancia and pissing off Fugo!” Mista was very proud of his plan. He was practically patting himself on his back. 

“I think the next one will be that vaccines don't work! Or that birds are government surveillance drones!” Mista kept prattling on about nonsense conspiracy theories, that Narancia would be very easily convinced were true. 

Of course you were very proud of him, and obviously that would be hilarious to watch. But you remembered how terrified he was by their last prank… He needed to do something even worse back to them. Funny for you two to watch of course, but also just a little scarring for the boys. 

“That would be hilarious, but maybe you want to do something a little more permanent? Like really screw with their heads and stuff?” Mista scrunched up his eyebrows and looked at you in confusion. 

“Just because their last joke was a little… cruel? I think we should be a little edgier with our retaliation strike.” You were a little worried he would think you were taking it a step too far, but after a few more seconds of pondering, his face lit up again. 

“Lets do it!” You met his grin with a warm smile. This was going to be a very exciting day. 

“So. What do you have in mind?” Mista asked, but the gears were already spinning in your mind. 

“Who does Fugo hate most in the world?” 

“Always himself, sometimes Narancia…” He stopped to think for a little, “Oh and always Nicholas Cage.” 

“Brilliant! Now, what is Narancia’s favorite food?” This was the real clincher. Yes, Narancia was baby, but he was also a baby who carried a switch blade and was super excited to use it. 

“Uhhh maybe strawberry cake? Oranges? Chocolates? Really I don't think he would turn down anything sweet.”

“Perfect.” It was all coming together. 

~~~~~~~

“I don't think i ever need to see Nicholas Cage’s face again.” Mista complained as he slid down the closed door of Fugo’s room.  

“Too bad you’re looking at him right now,” you snickered as you held up a print of him in front of your face. You were pretty proud of your handiwork. There was not an inch of Fugo’s room that was not covered in Nicholas Cage’s face. Mista had even wrapped his pencils and books with the wrapping paper you had custom printed. You were down about 50 Euros, but it was a small price to pay when you saw Fugo’s reaction to this masterpiece.  

The clock struck 12 and you heard the ridge door open in the kitchen. Aaaaand here he was. Right on time. 

“WHAT THE FUCK!” His scream was muffled by the door, but evidently he had seen Nicholas Cage’s face duct taped on his sandwich too. You quickly pulled Mista into Fugo’s closet so you could have prime seats of the impending meltdown. 

Fugo’s footsteps were heavy as he pounded his way down to his room. You had to cover Mista’s mouth to keep him from snickering and giving away your position. Then there it was, the fateful turn of the doorknob. 

You peered through a crack in the door and saw a look of pure terror spread across Fugo’s face as he saw even his bed covered in Nicholas Cage’s face. He took a shaky breath and tore back the comforter to see that Nicholas Cage was IN his bed too. His breath was coming in fast bursts as he spun around the room. He spun again. And then again, before releasing an unearthly howl. 

“MISTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA” 

Mista couldn't contain his laughter anymore and cackled his ass off as he sprinted out of the closet and down the hall before Fugo could catch him. 

~~~~~~~

“Are you ready for this responsibility Number Five?” Mista held the little Sex Pistol up to his face. The poor little guy was crying tears of joy, he was never chosen for anything and now he was given one of the greatest responsibilities: to help Mista prank Narancia. 

Number Five gave a small mumble of affirmation and an enthusiastic nod of his head. All amidst happy tears. Mista gave him a piece of salami before cutting a little hole in the orange for Number Five to hide in. He carefully stuck the skin back over Number Five’s little hole, and placed the bait on the kitchen counter. 

You sat at the table watching and waiting for everything to go down. Sure, you were the mastermind of this operation but you weren't foolish enough to get caught. You had to preserve your spot as everyone’s friend in the gang. 

“Oi Narancia!” Mista called the boy playing video games in the other room. 

“Yeah?” 

“I just got some oranges, do you want one?” Mista was awful at hiding his plan. He was snickering so badly he had to cover his face with his hand. But those big brown eyes always gave his mischief away. 

Luckily Narancia was too preoccupied with the thought of food to notice. He promptly paused his game, and strolled into the kitchen. You knew he would pull out the biggest and juiciest orange so you just waited. 

He started to peel it, then paused when he heard a small whimper coming from the orange. 

“Ow!” A brief look of confusion passed over Narancia’s face. He must have figured it wasn't real. 

“It hurts!” There it was that little voice again. Narancia’s eyes shot open in confusion. He held the orange farther away from his body as he turned to Mista. 

“Oranges don't have feelings, right?” Narancia was hesitant in asking his question. 

“Well,” Mista paused trying to sell his character, “I did see this documentary that said plants can feel pain. Especially trees when they’re being cut down.” Narancia just stared at the little orange cupped in his hands. 

“Please don't peel my skin! It hurts!!” This time Narancia was sure he heard a voice. While scared that his food was talking, it was pretty damn cool that he had made a scientific discovery. Narancia was so expressive, all of his thoughts played out on his face like a little show. 

He sprinted away, hopefully to find Fugo. 

Once he was gone, Mista keeled over you in a fit of laughter. 

“Ya know babe,” Mista pulled you against him in a tight hug, “that was pretty brilliant.” He placed a gentle kiss on your lips and held you tight. At least until the other boys figured it out.