#stony fluff to come in part 2

[jamminvroomvroom]

let’s go ride.

LN x fem!reader

in which lando keeps getting frustrated and you wanna know why…

hiiiiii here u go! belated love day fic from me to you 💝 love u all, tysm for the love on my last few fics, i’ve had a lot going on lately so i’ve not had very much time to write but when the inspo hits….. shoutout to miss mcrae for dropping lando-coded bangers bc i literally cannot resist. might make a part 2 of all the times they get freaky in a car lmao, lemme know if you want that! likes, comments and reblogs are sooooo appreciated so lemme know what u think xoxox

proofed by my own personal goat @lavenderlando 💖

songs to set the vibes: sports car by tate mcrae, bad guy by billie eilish

warnings: 18+!! minors begone! smut, language, fluff, bit of angst bc lando’s in a mood, friends to lovers, p in v, porn without plot but there is a little bit of plot, bitchy lando

4.2k words

you sit in silence, opening spotify and preparing to fiddle with the bluetooth as he slips into the drivers seat beside you. the car door slams shut and he huffs, jawline taut with annoyance. the hood of his car is surrounded, a million and one cameras pointed at you both as he tries to relax into his chair. the engine roars to life and you side eye him.

“when are you gonna learn, hm?” you try and sound playful, teasing, but it comes out laced with a twang of scolding. lando tenses up even further, turning to glare at you.

“god forbid i go outside.” he snaps.

“give over.” you roll your eyes. “poor me, i’m famous! lando, you can’t get angry when you park in the most high profile spot on the fucking planet and your fans want to worship you.��

“you don’t know what you’re talking about.” he sighs, white knuckles wrapping tighter around the steering wheel.

“don’t i? this has been happening a lot lately.” your voice softens, ever so slightly. “every time i’m seen with you, you lash out.”

“because i don’t want people harassing you, looking at you like some fucking commodity.” lando snarls, steely eyes locked on the supposed car enthusiasts that are slowly backing away from his parking space.

“lando, we’re friends. this has always been a thing. why is it bothering you so much now?”

you wonder if it bothers him for the same reason it bothers you.

he shuts his eyes, collecting himself for a moment. he puts the car in drive and smoothly pulls out of the space, ignores your question. you scowl at him, at this sudden childishness that has overtaken his easygoing manner in the last few months.

“fine. whatever.” you mutter, slumping defeatedly into your seat. you give up on playing music, leaving him to bask in the silence, something he loathed.

lando had switched from his usual self to this stony, irate version of him that you rarely had the displeasure of seeing, from the second you walked out of the restaurant where you’d had lunch. he was reluctant to pose for photos and sign hats, something he usually revelled in, grateful that people even wanted to see him. the swathes of fans that had gathered had irked him for once, but what really boiled his blood was the photographers that seemed to find him no matter where he chose to spend him time. so much for monaco’s privacy laws.

it wasn’t like he cared about himself, either. it was you. the way they leered, leaned close to you while he was distracted with pens being shoved in his face. it was the way their eyes dipped low, whether you were in a tank top or a baggy hoodie. it was the way they spread the false, painful narrative all over the internet that you and lando were together, which drove hoards of losers into your comment section and your DMs just to call you names.

you were not together. as much as it pained him, you were just friends.

he couldn’t exactly explain his overprotectiveness to you without getting himself into a big, tangled mess. you, being the resilient, cool as a cucumber stoic that you were didn’t care what fourteen year olds on the internet thought about you. you weren’t about to let faceless, jobless trolls ruin the friendship that you’d nurtured for years, through ups and downs, thick and thin, race wins and huge losses. but lando, god, it killed him, tore him up inside every time someone so much as looked at you wrong.

“you really don’t get it.” he says, hushed, like he’s telling a secret. you turn to look at him, tearing your eyes away from the glistening view of the marina.

“lando, tell me then. make it make sense because i’ve never seen you behave like this. they love you! least you can do is lose the attitude over some harmless pictures.”

“jesus christ, it’s not the fans! it’s not the ‘harmless pictures’! it’s these fucking creeps that follow us around just to make some money off of my own personal hell. you really don’t get it, because if you did, you’d know that it breaks my fucking heart to see the way people talk about you online, just for being seen with me. it’s my fault that you get harassed, that paps are basically stalking you now.”

he signs of his rant with a sharp inhale, one that seems to suck all of the life out of the car. you melt.

“but lando, it doesn’t bother me. i just wanna be here with you, i don’t care about the rest of it.” you coo softly, reaching over the centre console to grip his forearm.

“and i want you here. i want you with me every fucking second of the day, but i can’t cope. can’t help thinking that one day it’ll all just be too much and you’ll leave me.” he whispers.

“never. never ever ever.” you promise. your belly swirls with emotions, tickled from the inside out by butterflies that threaten to swarm.

lando breathes shakily, warmed through by the hand that rests on his arm as he manoeuvres through the twisty lanes. as he hits traffic and slows, he clocks another photographer looming on the pavement, lens aimed at his windshield. already too annoyed, he aggressively smacks his sun visor down, leaning over the console to reach yours too, pulling it down. he prays it’s enough.

“you need to relax, lan. i’m fine, we’re fine. i promise.” you reassure, but he’s breathing heavily now. “you don’t worry this much when it’s max.” you trail off.

he doesn’t know what comes over him. he spins the car into a sharp u-turn, positively speeding back in the direction you’d just come from. any mention of you and him as a ‘we’ makes him crazy, makes him utterly lose his mind, but something about your sweet, earnest voice bringing him back to reality has left him completely shaken. the sun is setting now, most people clearing out of the underground car park he pulls into to head back to their homes. he has other intentions. you don’t say another word until he pulls into a space at the back of the lot, tucked neatly into a corner.

“what are we doing?”

“need a minute.” lando rasps, forehead resting on his steering wheel, the matte leather pushing his sharp curls back. you trail your eyes over him, the way his chest rises and falls under the sweatshirt he’s wearing, the way his thick fingers curl as his grip continues to tighten.

“i’m jealous. and i’m selfish. and i’m a complete fucking idiot.” lando says, steadily, like he’s reading the news.

“you’re… you’re jealous? of what?” you’re like a deer in headlights.

“of any other person that gets to lay their fucking eyes on you.”

“what are you saying?” you whisper. the air in the car goes still, frozen. you can’t breathe.

“i’m saying… that you’re mine. and i should have made that a known fact a long time ago.” ever so slowly he looks up at you, and you gasp at the intensity of his stare. he’s gazing at you with complete conviction in his eyes, a whole lot of vulnerability mixed in with the sincerity of his words. “i don’t want anyone else anywhere near you. lose my fucking mind watching the way they look at you.”

“lando…” you trail off, eyes as wide as saucers. is he really saying what you think he’s saying?

“i know this is terrible of me, to do this now, here - to do this at all, to be honest. i know that i have no right to stake some kind of claim on you, and i know that you probably don’t feel the same, but god, i just needed you to know. if you want me to shut the fuck up or leave you alone forever then i totally get it but-“

“oh my god, are you stupid?” you shake your head, still stuck in your state of disbelief, but you muster the coherency to grip the collar of his crewneck, tug him close.

your lips meet hastily, urgently, and every ounce to tension seems to seep out of the car. he moans at the very sensation of you against him, breath caught in his throat when you lace your finger through his hair like you want to mould your faces together, never stop. his brain finally catches up, awestruck as he is, and you trade passion and saliva, bumping noses as you clash chaotically.

“i think we’re both stupid.” he mumbles into your lips. you shut him up with another kiss, fiery and needy, and his hands begin to wander. he smoothes over the back of your jumper until he finds your waist, awkward in the limited space of the front of the car, and skims his hands up until he’s made his way beneath the material and he’s gripping your bare skin.

“too forward of me to ask you to get in the back?” lando pants with a cheeky smile.

“you literally just marked your territory on me, and nearly bit a photographer. i think we’re past ‘forward’.” you deadpan.

“then get in the fucking back.” he grins, devilish and commanding. you do as you’re told, wriggling between the leather until you’re propped up against the backseat. lando follows, sitting beside you, tugs you into his lap like you’re weightless.

you can feel him beneath you, hard and wanting, and you mewl, keen into him. your breaths mingle in the nonexistent space, lips brushing gently.

“this okay?” lando’s lips ghost over yours and you lean forward, just enough to reach him. he pulls back, eyes hooded, teasing, and tuts. “use your words.”

“who knew you were such a bossy boots.” you smirk. “more than okay.”

his eyes glaze over once he has your permission, and he kisses you like you’re the last supply of oxygen on earth. he licks into your mouth, wet and desperate and you whimper as he grazes over the crease of your thigh, toying with the hem of your skirt where it’s ridden up.

“can feel you.” lando groans, pulling away to look between your bodies. “so warm for me, you like seeing me all riled up?”

you nod coyly, lip caught between your teeth, and you swear you see his eyelashes flutter.

“what did i say about words?” lando composes himself enough to tease. you roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the way heat rolls through your body.

“like when you get all bitchy.” you reply, rolling your hips once.

“bitchy?”

“mhm. always been so easy to toy with.” you whisper, leaning in to nose along the thickness of his neck. you drag your tongue up the vein there, feeling it pulse under your tongue. he smells like his cologne, so him, and it makes you even hotter.

“oh, so you’ve been playing with me?” he chokes out, eyes rolling back in his head at the marks you’re leaving.

“maybe a little.” you hum.

“you liked watching me get angry? pretending to be all sweet and clueless?” lando whispers, the words hanging heavy in the space between you. all you can manage in response is a mischievous smile that twists his tummy.

your hands trail under his sweatshirt, skating over the muscled ripples of his belly, ever so slightly dipping into the band of his sweats. his head lulls back, blindly holding you close while you worship him. he lets you, lets himself have this moment, thinking for so long that it would never come.

“waited so long,” your lips brush over the shell of his ear, tongue grazing the lobe. he descends into a mess of shivers. “needed you to break first. i knew you would.” you croon.

“you’ve been loving this, haven’t you?” lando starts, low and calculating. “bet you’ve been getting off on dressing like a whore for the cameras, watching me suffer.” he pieces together. your resolve cracks. “bad girl.”

the sense of control you’d briefly maintained shatters, a hand around your neck forcing you away from him, preventing your sweet torture. his fingers flex, just above your collarbone, and you swallow at the smirk that seems to engulf his entire face. he looks animalistic, crazed with a feral adoration that leaves you certain that you’re dripping all over his lap.

“i think you’ve had your fun, baby, it’s my turn.”

you whine when he drags you across his lap, back and forth until you’re squirming. his hips rut up into yours, fuelling your desire for every single inch of him.

“please, lando.” you breathe, reaching out to lace your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck.

“let me look at you.” he demands, shutting down your intentions for more. “i’ve waited long enough for this, don’t you think?”

“so have i.” you beg him with your eyes, but give in to him nonetheless. you’re staining his lap, grey sweats darkening as your wetness pools there and he can’t help but buck up into your warmth.

“wanna play with you, baby, see how you like it.” he taunts, bringing two fingers between your legs.

he brushes his knuckles over the obvious damp patch at the crotch of your panties, lip caught between his teeth at what he finds. your soaked through, and he pinches your bundle of nerves just to watch you thrash in his grip.

“i hate you right now.” you spit through gritted teeth, but your hips can’t help but chase his hand.

“doesn’t feel like it.” he kisses you quick, loving the way you lean in for more, but he relaxes against the seat and dips slowly beneath your underwear. “fuck.”

he doesn’t have to work too hard to spread your wetness around, you’re already lathered in it, but he continues to tease, fingers gliding over your clit and through your folds.

“please.” you beg, leaning back to give him as much access as possible.

“what do you want, baby? tell me.” he urges, drawing circles on the swollen bundle of nerves.

“your fingers.”

“you have them.” he barks out a condescending laugh, applying more pressure just to prove his point.

“need them inside of me.” you pant, eyes squeezing shut at his sadistic game between your thighs.

“that’s my girl.” he praises, and you curse, clamping down around him before he even gets the first knuckle inside of you.

“how are you doing this to me?” you think aloud, tears in your waterline already. it all feels far too good for a first time.

“because i know you better than you think i do.” he coos.

lando pulls you flush against him, grinding his fingers deep so that they curl deliciously against your sweet spot. his palm bumps your clit with every twist of digits and he nips over your collarbone. his tongue laves over your skin, tasting the perspiration that gathers as the car steams up around you. you’re suddenly hyper aware of your surroundings, huddled together in the back of his urus in a dimly lit car park. thank god you’d lost the photographers.

“can’t believe we’re doing this.” you gasp, feeling your tummy tighten at the thrill of it all, of feeling your best friend work to please you.

“i knew it would happen. knew that someday i’d get to see you like this, all for me.”

“all for you.” you repeat, drunk on him as you rode his fingers. “feels so good.”

“want you to come for me like this.” lando orders, replacing the heel of his hand with his thumb against your clit. his ministrations are more controlled like this, precise, and you throw your head back in pleasure. his teeth sink in to the base of your neck, sucking softly over the bruising skin, lapping at the mark to soothe it.

“i’m so close, lan.”* you choke, riding his fingers as you near your release.

“c’mon baby, make a mess for me.” he urges, eyes locked intensely on yours. you’re enticed by the sea green storm that swirls in his irises, shrinking as his pupils blow with lust. you can’t help it, can’t delay the inevitable, and you thrash in his arms, wildly bucking your hips against his as you fall apart.

you gush all over his lap, further ruining his sweatpants but he doesn’t bat an eyelid, working you through your orgasm until you’re spent. he’s transfixed by the way your thighs glisten, by the way your release seeps through the material covering his crotch and it makes him throb.

“that’s it baby.” he murmurs, voice low and smooth. you pant, collapsing forwards onto him.

“thank you.” you whisper into his neck, and he laughs softly.

“don’t thank me, silly girl.” he coos into your ear. you pull back just enough to kiss him, taking it slow, giving you a moment to come down from your devastatingly intense high. you’re exhausted, eyes fluttering shut from the exertion, and he tucks sweaty strands of your hair behind your ears. his fingers graze your warmed cheeks, noses bumping and you take him in, carefully studying the lines of his face, the sharp slope of his nose, the flutter of his eyelashes against those ridiculously high cheekbones.

“you’re so pretty.” your voice floats over him like a delicate caress, makes him shiver. he grins at you, enamoured.

“didn’t think our first time would be in the back of my car but i don’t think i can’t wait to get you home.”

“you’ve thought about this?” you ask, bashful. he gazes up at you sheepishly.

“every night before bed.” he jokes, and you shift your hips.

you’re overstimulated, but it does the trick, the playful haze shattering, replaced by thick, charged tension.

“you gonna make that fantasy a reality?”

“yeah. yeah, i am.” he mumbles.

his hands skim your waist, pushing your jumper up as he goes higher and higher, until it’s off, chucked into the footwell. you tear at his sweatshirt until it joins your discarded clothing and explore the bronzed planes of his chest, extra sun-kissed by the trip you’d taken to dubai just a few weeks before. if only you’d known then…

“hurry.” you plead, and he scoffs, adjusting you on his lap just enough to free himself from his sweatpants and boxers, and you gawk down at what’s revealed to you.

it’s big, thick, and you sigh in relief that he’d so thoroughly stretched you out, got you nice and slick for him already.

“gonna take it all for me?” lando taunts, catching your hanging jaw between two firm fingers, forcing you to look at him.

“gonna try.” you reason, breathing shakily as you rise up on your knees. you feel the head of his cock prodding your clit, the sodden tip running along your folds until it catches on your entrance. you both hiss as the contact, his hands steadying your hips.

“you can do it, baby.” lando promises, helps you begin your descent.

“oh my god.” you gasp, sinking down slowly. “dunno if i can take it, lan, you’re so- so…” you trail off, head thrown back far enough that you miss the way he’s smirking up at you.

“c’mon baby, being such a good girl for me, i know you can take it. just a little more.” he goads, pressing each button of your apparent praise kink, and you whine, soft moans tumbling from your lips. a sense of determination becomes you, and you’re aching to take him all the way.

you cry out his name when you’re pressed flush against him, and he soothes circles into your hips, holding you close against his chest. one hand smoothes through your hair, the lace of your bra scratching against his chest as you breathe rapidly.

“well done, baby, knew you could do it.” lando praises, trailing kisses over your face. you quiver in his hold, hips wiggling ever so slightly, and he takes that as a sign. “want me to do the work, hmm? make you feel so good?”

you nod lazily, looking up at him from where your face is smushed against his shoulder, and he lets you break his rule of “words”, softened by how beautiful you look, vulnerable in his strong arms. he starts to move, fucking up into you slowly, feeling you out. you can feel him twitch inside of you, his breath catching in his throat at the feeling of you, tight and warm, enveloped all around him. you roll your hips languidly, meeting his thrusts and you both moan out as the explosion of sensations unfolds between you.

“harder, lando. can take it.” you mumble, glazed over doe eyes looking into his. he tenses up, shaken to the very core by the emotional tether between you, feeling the way it grows even stronger. the one woman he’d wanted since he’d laid eyes on you, the one women he never thought he could have; his heart pounds violently in his chest.

he readjusts your hips, pushing you back so that you’re upright once more, eyes raking hungrily over your flushed body. your skirt is bunched around your waist, panties tugged to the side, cups of your bra barely covering anything anymore. he tweaks a nipple through the lace, paws at your tits until you’re fluttering around him. the cups of your bra are tugged down, resting below your breasts and he swallows hard.

“fuck me, you’re so beautiful.” lando rasps, leaning you back further to perfect the angle.

once he’s satisfied, he bounces you against him, meeting your hips with harsh thrusts, his pace unrelenting. he can see the way you pool around his base, dampening the thatching of hair that decorates his pelvic bone. you seem to chase the friction there, rutting your clit against him. sweet puffs of breath fill his ears, melodic combined with a symphony of your needy whines, continuously intensifying as he fucks you deeper and deeper.

“it’s so good.” you slur, mouth hanging open, totally unhinged from the raw pleasure that he courses through your veins.

“you’re doing so good for me, baby.” he wants to say more, but then he sees it, the way your lower belly seems to protrude with every roll of his hips. “oh, fuck.” he cries out.

“do you see that, baby? see how deep i am?” lando growls, voice rippling through your connected bodies. you glance down, and the first tears start to fall.

“oh my god.” you repeat, nothing else to say, totally braindead at the sight. your cheeks are wet with tear tracks, utterly overwhelmed by the way he’s taking you, so blissful that it hurts.

“you crying for me, baby? do i feel that good?” lando mocks, reinvigorated by the way your tears gather at your collarbone. his hand swipes messily against your throat, swiping them away, but you catch his hand, keeping it there. your eyes lock as your hand squeezes around his, a silent plea. he rocks up into you even harder, hand clamping around you neck slowly, leaving your breathless, liquid heat shooting down your spine. you can’t stop it from hitting you like a ton of bricks, can’t hold back, not when he’s making it hurt so fucking good.

“lando, i can’t- i’m gonna- fuck.” you bellow, falling to pieces around him. he keeps you propped up through your orgasm, plowing into your limp body until you’re so tight around him that he quite literally can’t keep going. he shudders, repeating your name like a godforsaken prayer as his abs flex beneath your shaky hands. you feel him filling you up, shots of warmth painting your insides.

lando lets you collapse into his arms, holding you tight as you both tremble in the silence of the car. condensation rolls down the windows, giving away your frenzied desires. if anyone caught sight of his car, it wouldn’t be hard to do the math.

“gonna let me take you home so we can do that again?” lando laughs, breathing you in. he can feel the way your chest rumbles softly in response, hears your angelic, raspy laugh.

“gimme a sec, don’t think i can move ever again.” you groan, sighing into his chest.

you stay there for a while, basking in it, coming down. he traces shapes into the bare skin of your back; you absentmindedly trace a heart into the window fog.

when you finally manage to redress, it’s dark outside, bright lights casting patterns into the calm midnight of the marina. he holds your hand as he drives up into the heights of monaco, and you stare at the way yours fits so perfectly with his, just like how your head tucked so perfectly into the crook of his neck. you smile out the window and lando smiles at you.

by the time bedtime rolls around, you’re both well and truly exhausted. when you try and wriggle out of his grip, ready to retreat back to the guest room like a wounded animal, lando pouts - pouts! - and holds you even tighter.

“silly girl.” he kisses the words into your hairline, and drifts off to sleep.

-

hehe

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[innohurrytoshout]

i hope you're miserable ᥫ᭡ r. mattheo

when a misunderstanding with Filch leads to detention after school, you’re stuck babysitting Slytherin’s bad boy

who: mattheo riddle x ravenclaw!reader genre: fluff wc: 3,6k content warning: [this fic is the first part of a set, part 2 can be found at the very bottom] reader–riddle tension–matty has a crush ;) and he's a bit of a creep lol a/n: grrr this was perfect for the day i had, it was so sunny...enjoy!!

Birds cawed, and the air was growing slightly warmer–as you kicked your feet back and forth over the bridge at the edge of Hogwarts’ courtyard over the pond, your two friends were studying for the potions exam they had later today.

Your fifth year had seemed to fly past you. You meant to write to your parents about the upcoming break, but you were still deciding if you should go home or not.

“What’s that look for?” One of your friends spared you a glance.

You blew a lock of hair out of your face and shrugged, “Are you guys going home for the upcoming holiday?”

“Well, yeah.”

“My parents and I have a tradition, you know this,” your other friend butted in. She rolled her eyes, “My brother is being a pain, though.”

“Yeah, but…” a smile pressed to your lips, as easy as the light in the sky. “Don’t you just want to do something else for once? I mean, we’re always on a schedule.”

They frowned at each other, “That’s kind of expected of us, you know? You weren’t complaining when you beat Hermione last semester.” She pointed out, her blonde hair curling around her as if it were something come to life.

Your eyes rolled, and you leaned back on your hands, “That’s different. I don’t mean give up on school work completely.”

They shook their head and laughed, “Okay, sure.”

You opened your mouth to say something more, but they had already gone back to studying.

A few minutes later, the bell rang, and they had to get their things together, “wish us luck.”

You wave a hand, “Yeah, good luck…like you guys even need it.”

“Says the one with a free period.”

You snorted a laugh, “I’ll see you after school in the common room?”

“Yep! See you.” 

“Bye,” they murmured at the same time.

You watched them speed back toward campus. It was pretty warm out today, glancing around, you shrugged. Why not? You moved your bag to sit on the stony pathway and lowered your head onto the shoulder of the bridge, fixing your skirt when you were finally flat against the stone.

This is nice, you found yourself prying deep into thought. You weren’t sleeping, that would be too dangerous–but you were lost, reflecting on the world around you. It was as if time had stopped–as if questions about the universe seemed more significant than your DA quiz on Monday. But–the sun was hitting your face just right, it was shaded slightly?–wait–that wasn’t right–

You peeled an eye open, jerking back when you came face to face with Filch. “Ditching class now, are we?”

What? “No, I–”

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, “I expected better from you, Ravenclaws.”

“But I–”

“Don’t even try it. Get your things,” he motioned toward your bag beside his feet. 

You scrambled to pick yourself up, “wait–that’s not, I have–”

“You fifth years–” he scoffed, “what you’re going to say ‘I have a free period’?”

“But I do!”

“Right, only 6th and 7th years have free periods.”

“I know that,” you were starting to get a bit irritated, “but the Headmaster gave me a special cause. He gave it to a few other students this year.”

Filch halted, and you almost crashed into his back. You stepped away, making a face at his smelly robes. “You expect me to believe that?”

“...Yes.” 

“I’m not as gullible as I look, am I?”

It was useless, you would have to get Dumbledore involved. you were one of the few students who were offered a free period this year. You knew Hermione Granger had been one of the students, but it was clear by the way she seemed to rush back and forth and the way she was always studying that she had declined.

The other students were a mystery, well, you knew Draco Malfoy had one because you’d caught him in the library once. He was alone, looking solemn–to be honest, you hadn’t known he was that great of a student. You never really checked the scoreboards because you always knew you’d place high enough for your parents to get off your back.

“Listen to me!” You shouted after him as he began his marching again. He marched back to the castle while ignoring your pleas.

The next time you got a word out of him, it wasn’t directed at you– “Hey!” He’d shouted, jabbing a finger toward something.

“Stop right there!” He began chasing…something? You huffed, wondering if you’d have to follow him around for the rest of the day because he was on some silly goose chase.

“Aehehehe,” you heard his creepy laugh as you rounded the courtyard.

Filch gripped the back of someone's shirt in the open, stone hall–you snorted.

Both glanced at you when the sound echoed through the hall. Your shoes clicked as you moved closer to the scene. There in front of you was Slytherin’s esteemed prince, Mattheo Riddle, caught in the clutches of Filch. His annoyed expression said it all. He looked like a mouse caught in a cat's trap.

“What I would do for a photo of this,” you were grinning until Filch turned his attention back to you.

“You think this is funny? Well, you can join him.”

“I didn’t even do anything!” You crossed your arms.

“Skipping classes is not allowed.”

You felt your eyes rolling toward the back of your skull, “I already told you. I have a–”

“You already have one detention, you want another one?”

“But–”

“Ah-ah–”

“But!–”

“A second detention it is–”

A snort. You glared at Riddle. His cool, brown eyes met yours, a cheeky smile showing a single dimple. “Oh, you think that’s funny? You can join her!”

Filch let him go just as a groan escaped him, “I had plans later, Filchy–”

“You call me that again, it’ll be a third one for you, Riddle.”

Heh. You were smart enough to keep your amusement in your head this time.

“Come on then,” Filch cast a spell. You knew it, but you didn’t know it well–your body froze as. You could see Riddle in the corner of your peripheral vision, he was frozen, too. A second later, your body relaxed and you stumbled forward, catching yourself right before you fell.

You glanced toward Riddle, expecting him to laugh–he didn’t, but his mouth quivered, making you think he wanted to. You stuck out your tongue and spun around, readying more explanations of how this wasn’t fair–but Filch was already heading off, saying, “I’ll see you two after school.”

A hand shot out to stop him, but your words caught in your throat. Riddle began walking, and soon, he was behind you, leaning over your shoulder. " Just let him go. You won’t be able to convince him otherwise.”

“Have a lot of experience with him, do you?”

He opened his mouth, but instead of words, amusement took the form of a smile.

You started walking toward the Ravenclaw dorms, you would need to leave a note with information for your friends explaining exactly why you wouldn’t be hanging out with them this afternoon. It irked you–Filch had never given you any issues in the previous years, and he hadn’t been around much this year either.

“See you after school, Ravenclaw!” You held in the urge to shoot a curse at him as you stomped away.

She took his interest the moment he saw her. She was laughing, her head was thrown back, and she had a hand up as if she wanted to cover her smile. He didn’t want her to–Theo and the rest of his friends had paused.

He knew they had been watching him, trying to figure out what had made him stop so abruptly. They’d been walking through the second-floor halls, just coming from class with those idiotic Gryffindors, she must have just come from class as well, but she was sitting on one of the couches on the first floor, and as he’d just happened to glance over the railing, she’d caught his attention.

Her image had hit him so suddenly–at first he’d thought it was because she was pretty, but there were plenty of pretty girls in his year, so he knew that couldn’t be it. Then what?

Mattheo ignored the bubbling questions–his friends wouldn’t shut up the rest of the day, and whenever they passed her in the halls, they’d all glance at him. She never seemed to notice, though, which made him question–why?

Ravenclaws weren’t Gryffindors, they weren’t his arch nemesis–in fact, his father had mentioned something about how Ravenclaws were more similar to Slytherins than they liked to admit.

He found himself following her; he knew it was wrong and creepy, but again, neither her nor anyone ever seemed to notice–if they had, they hadn’t said anything–if they had said something, Mattheo would have heard and shut it down by now.

A huff escaped him, the sun was out–it felt nice on his face. He hadn’t planned to get caught by Filch–he hadn’t planned to follow her and her friends out there, though okay–it might not seem that way.

Draco had wanted to get some fresh air, “and by the looks of it, you could use some sun.” Lorenzo had joked, earning a back of the head smack from Pansy. Blaise had chuckled, and Mattheo had felt himself smile slightly, shaking his head–that was until Theo pointed out her and her friends.

“Isn’t that your little Ravenclaw?” 

“Don’t call her that,” Mattheo had rolled his eyes, but they landed on her–and that was–in fact–her, surrounded by her friends, but she’d looked different. Her smile wasn’t as bright–she’d looked almost…solemn.

He’d felt a pit in his stomach, he didn’t know much about Ravenclaws, he stayed very much to his home turf, but over two years, he could gather well enough to know that there was always immense pressure on them, not unlike what him and his friends had to endure from their own parents.

They’d followed them slightly, but as the Ravenclaws headed for the Hogwarts Bridge, Mattheo and his friends steered toward the forest. They had a small hideout their, they called it the Clubhouse–picked up from some muggle children’s book.

But soon, the bell had rung and they were heading back toward the school. Mattheo meant to track his friends, but then he noted the two Ravenclaws without their third member–and it occurred to him to wonder over to the bridge, just to make sure, he’d told himself.

It wasn’t just to make sure, he knew almost without doubt she would be there. He just wanted to see her–maybe this was his chance to talk to her, who would think it odd? Just two students who happened to be alone in the same place–that’s what his brain had convinced him of anyway.

Her face was calm, a complacent smile brightened by the sun hiding somewhere behind the trees that shaded her body halfway. He hadn’t realized it, but his heart began to slow. Watching her was relaxing, as he had come to know. 

Damn now he really did sound like a freak. He shook himself out of his stupor, okay, he was there, he was going to do it. He was going to talk to her–any second now–but he hadn’t moved then, and he hadn’t moved a second later, and soon it would be too late because Filch and his mangy cat appeared from seemingly nowhere and were now towering over her. 

It turned into something from a horror film. He’d watched them, laughing at her trying to explain why she wasn’t in class. He knew why, Dumbledore had offered a few fifth year students the opportunity typically only reserved for 6th years and up.

Mattheo found his amusement dying when Filch had began moving in his direction. He ran back to the castle, careful to not alert his fry-head of a cat– but it had been useless becasue Filch had seen him anyway.

He didn’t want her to know, he was afraid of what she’d think of him–afraid that she’d know just by looking that he’d been watching her. “Nervous?” He murmured, just now figuring out what it was he had been feeling. He scoffed, “No way…” but he couldn’t shake the thought, the way.

The bell for the last class rang and he sighed, sitting up. He was somewhere deep in the castle, to be hoenst, even he didn’t know how he’d found this place–it was in the attick of the castle, but Howarts had many atticks, he didn’t know which this one was, he only knew it was near Ravenclaw Tower, and no, he hadn’t planned it.

It had just been a happy coincidence, he’d found it in his second year–when Draco had finally begun to stop, “Potter this,” and, “Potter that,”–Blaise and Lorenzo called it his Pottymouth Year. A memory of them making fun of their friend lightened his heart–it made having detention two days in a row a bit easier, even though today was Friday and tomorrow was supposed to be a rest day.

Though, he’d only had detention a handful of times, he’d never been this elated, and perhaps a little Ravenclaw had something to do with it…he shook his head, wondering why his mouth was full of smiles today.

You drug your feet across Hogwarts, yawning as you made your way down the hall. The spell Filch had cast gave your subconscious the exact directions to where he wanted you to meet him after school. You had sat in the common room until the last bell rang, as soon as it rang, your body stood and began heading toward wherever Filch must have been.

Students were milling about, chattering everywhere you turned, and it lit a fire under your butt. This could have been you–it should have been you–it was going to be you–but because that dinglemutt didn’t have a clue as to his master's new proclamation, you were being unfairly punished.

You headed out toward the quad and rounded the castle, were you were going to the Quidditch field? Great–what could you possibly be doing? Cleaning gear? You whimpered just thinking about how smelly those locker rooms must be.

“Ah, she arrives.” You fisted your hands and set your mouth, but kept quiet.

“Where’s Riddle?” Your eyes floated around the grassy space, searching for the Slytherin.

“Don’t worry about him–he’ll be here.” Filch checked the time on his wand, “Now follow me.”

Mattheo was grinning. He couldn’t be grinning when he headed into the lockerooms. They were on the Slytherin/Ravenclaw side, so thankfully, he wouldn’t be cleaning some snot-nosed Gryffindor’s uniform. Mattheo shuddered at the thought–Filch couldn’t be that cruel…could he?

Best to not find out. Someone–definitely Filch–cleared his throat and stepped outside, eyeing him expectantly, “Well, go on. She can’t clean them alone, can she?”

Mattheo resisted the urge to roll his eyes and stuffed his hands in his pockets before walking in. 

She had her hair pulled back with a clip–Mattheo had never seen her like this...well, okay, he’d seen her with her hair pinned up–but she was all sweaty and her sleeves were rolled back, his eyebrows scrunched together–why was it so hot?

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, “Are you trying to off yourself before the OWLs?”

You glared, watching him pull out his wand. You bit your cheek when he cast a silent spell. You were still working on those–it peeved you and your nails dug into your palms, just another reason to hate him, you supposed.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” He cooed, beginning to unbutton his sleeves and roll them up. It seemed he’d had the same idea you had. He only wore his white uniform button-up. It was weird, seeing him without his regular attire; he looked different, though you couldn’t be sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Wind hit your face, and your sweat began cooling. You paused, dropping the scrub on the space near the sink.

“It’s nice, right?” He saddled up beside you, and you stumbled back, surprised. “I don’t bite,” he frowned, looking…annoyed?

He was aware of who he was, right? Nevertheless, he didn’t…he wasn’t–you shook your head, “I’m not afraid of you, you just startled me is all.”

“Oh, really now?” He raised a brow.

“Really.” Your jaw locked. He watched as you stepped forward, standing your ground–it was cute. His frown turned into a lopsided grin, which only made you huff.

“Why aren’t you using magic?” He glanced around the room, “It’d be much easier.”

“He disabled my magic,” you frowned, looking at your wand in the side pocket of your skirt dissappointedly. Riddle craned his neck to follow your gaze, he leaned over you slightly and your heart began to pick up pace.

He smelled good, like mahogany teakwood and morning dew. You didn’t know why those two specific smells came to you–it didn’t seem right for the Dark Lord's son to smell like something as innocent as morning dew, and yet here he was.

“What?” His head turned slightly, and he was glancing down at you, his body slightly over yours. You swallowed and shoved him away, averting your gaze back onto the uniform, “are you going to stand there and help or what?”

Mattheo paused as a thought came to him. “Whose uniform is that?”

“I don’t know, why does it matter?” You picked the sponge back up, but he snatched the top from the sink before you could, “hey, you’re going to get water everywhere.” 

He waved his wand in front of your face, and you frowned. Apparently, Filch had favorites.

He glanced at the number, his shoulders relaxed a bit, and he handed it back to you. “Someone you know?” You snorted, taking back the uniform.

“You could say that.” He threw you a cheeky smile before spinning around and using his magic to clean the rest of the uniforms.

“So not fair,” you murmured, shaking your head.

“Hey, it’s not my fault you were caught skipping classes.”

“I wasn’t skipping classes!” You shouted, “I. Had. A. Free. Period.”

Riddle shrugged, “You heard what Filch said.”

“You are really starting to get on my nerves.”

He held his hands up, pressing both lips together to suppress another smile.

You ground your teeth and, without thinking, threw the sponge at him. He blinked as he bounced off his cheek. A gasp escaped you and your hands shot to cover the laughter that threatened to trickle out, “I am–” you snorted, “–shaho–” another snort, “sorry?”

Riddle’s mouth dropped open slightly, and his tongue circled the inside of it. His eyes landed on yours again, and he watched you watch him wipe the soap off his cheek. “Are you asking for a war, ?” he called you by your surname.

Your heart studded…you don’t remember ever giving him your name. “You know me?”

His amusement died instantly. “What are you talking about? I don’t.”

You raised a brow and crossed your arms, frowning, “Did you not just call me by my name?”

“I–” he stepped backward as you walked toward him, cornering him into a wall.

“You knew my name.”

“So, I know lots of people's names.”

“That a shit exuse, Riddle.”

As you got closer, you noticed something…something on his face, it was a shade redder…was he blushing? You couldn’t believe your eyes–your footsteps halted. You weren’t dumb, you could connect the dots easily enough, “Mattheo Riddle, do you have a crush on me?”

His eyes jumped out of their sockets when his head jerked up to face you again, “what–no–I”

“Mmmhmmm,” it was odd–this was a side you were certain no one had ever seen from him–he was a Riddle for Merlin’s sake–a Slytehirn–but right now he didn’t look like any of the things either of those titles were known for.

He looked different from your everyday point of view of him, he looked like…any other boy in your year, you stepped closer and, without thinking, leaned over and poked his cheek. He watched you do it, and he didn’t move. A cheesy grin spread across your face, “Mattheo Riddle, were you stalking me?”

He stayed silent, but his face darkened in color even though the locker rooms were pretty chilly now. Noise startled him out of his trance, you watched his cool facade slide over his boyish embarrassment. But it was too late, you had seen everything you’d needed to.

“Mattheo?” You recognized that voice.

“Hey, you’re here already?”

“Yep, Coach wanted us in early–we sent Draco's owl to find you–what are you doing here?”

Soon, the locker room was filled, and eyes were all on you–your lips pursed and, though you didn’t know why, you glanced at Riddle as if he were supposed to give you orders on what to do next.

Nott’s eyes widened when they found yours–soon they jumped back to Riddle’s and he jerked his body around, laughing into his elbow. You ignored Malfoy’s curious gaze and every other interested one.

“Right, you should get going now, the uniforms are cleaned so…”

“But, I,” you turned back toward the uniform you had been cleaning.

“That one’s plenty cleaned,” he walked passed you, unbuttoned the front of his shirt, and you glanced away, embarrassment clinging to your every being. You felt his friend’s eyes on you, but you kept your eyes on the ground.

“You can look now, ,” he murmured your surname. Your head jerked toward Riddle, glaring as his snort sounded throughout the room.

“That one was yours?”

He glanced down, “Isn’t it obvious?”

You scoffed and shook your head, wagging a finger at him, “Next time I see you, Riddle.” You spun around expectantly, “Well? Make some room, I can’t push through the lot of you, can I?”

As you moved through the gap created for you, Riddle called out, “See you tomorrow, Ravenclaw!”

“Screw you Slytherin!”

a/n: let me know what you think!!

vol ll kissing cherries in the rain

[witherby]

Could you make more Damian and mer!Reader? I wanna see them swim together!

Yeah, I can do that! The previous post surpassed 10 reblogs so y'all can have another installment :)

Part 2 of Human!Damian x Mer!Reader

Content: Fluff, Swimming, Language Barrier, Courtship Ritual (unbeknownst to Damian)

Part 1 is Here!

You swim in fast spirals through your enclosure, ducking around seaweed and colorful rocks and the fake castle spire they installed for you to hide in, tail brushing against the rough, stony texture. The lights all dimmed about thirty minutes ago, leaving just the bioluminescent foliage scattered throughout your tank and a few, small overhead lamps to illuminate the space. You know that this means all the Attention Time is done for the day, and that Damian will soon be around for dinner and playtime.

When you feel those familiar disturbances in the water, the gentle swish, swish, swish of your favorite caretaker's hand, you bolt towards it and surface with a splash and a chirp. Damian wipes the water off his face and levels you with an unamused look, which you preen at, and you rest your arms on the lip of the tank.

"Hello to you, too," he greets, holding up your bucket. "It's dinner time. You did great today, as though we could expect anything less than perfection at this point."

You take the bucket and start eating, offering a piece of squid to Damian. He scrunches his nose and politely refuses, so you shove it between your own, razor-sharp teeth instead.

"Visitors asked a lot of questions about you today," Damian says. You register the general idea of what he's talking about — the "visitors" are the creatures that come to stare at you in the funny tunnels. "Two of the tour groups asked if you were lonely, being the only mer we have in the aquarium."

The boy tilts his head, vibrant green eyes unusually pensive as he regards you. You stare back as you chew, the fins on either side of your head twitching. You love staring at his eyes, more vibrant than any foliage in your tank and endlessly entertaining to look at. When he speaks again, you do your best to keep following along.

"I didn't know how to answer them. Mers, from what few we've observed in the wild, travel in pods. You don't exhibit behaviors of loneliness or excessive stress, however; I don't think living here without pod-mates is causing you harm, otherwise we'd see you picking at your fins and scales, or lashing out more violently, or at the very least hiding more often."

You smile. How silly of your caretaker — he is your pod! You socialize with him plenty, even if he can't live in your enclosure with you! You click your tongue and trill, showing him your empty bucket to get the frown off his face.

Damian takes it back with a quick word of praise and dodges your grabby hands when you make to pull him into the water.

"Patience. Let me change into the wetsuit, okay, Princess?"

You perk up and chirrup with glee. You know that word! He's going to come into the tank and play!

Damian disappears through a set of doors several yards away from the edge of your tank. You slip under the water to rehydrate your gills, floating aimlessly for a few minutes. When you surface again, Damian is standing on the edge of your tank in a black wetsuit with a small apparatus on his face. After an accident (and it was an accident, you promise! How were you supposed to know the land creatures couldn't breathe water the same way you did?) where you almost drowned Damian trying to play with him, he showed up a few days later with the suit and small face-thing that you learned was important not to pull off of him.

You whistle and trill, arms extended in delight. Damian's eyes crinkle just slightly around the edges, as he can't smile around the rebreather, and he lets his body tip forward into your waiting arms.

You splash into the water together, squeezing him in a tight hug, then draw back to grab his hand and pull him along. Damian allows it, kicking the flippers on his feet to help propel him along, though they're no match for your huge tail.

Playtime always starts with you dragging Damian to the bottom of your tank, either to show him the latest way you've arranged your collection of colorful rocks, or to find a gift for him. Sometimes you give him a rock, sometimes you give him a piece of foliage, and once you gave him a loose brick taken from your castle spire (he put that one back).

Today, you release his hand to dart into your seaweed nest, pawing around until you find what you're looking for, then pop back out and press it into his hands. Damian's eyes go wide, clutching the small handful of shredded scales you passed over with the delicateness one would use to cradle a baby.

Mers tended to have hoarding tendencies, especially for shiny things. Your myriad of painted stones and other aquatic-safe decorations were proof of that. In the wild, shedded scales were kept and used as further decoration for a nest, or placed around the entrance of their home so it could be easily identifiable. To see you hand him what is typically considered a valuable resource to your species...

Well, he's nothing short of flattered. You must care for him a great deal to be willing to part with your scales.

He signs Thank You under the water and carefully tucks the gift into a bag on his hip, since the wetsuit has no pockets. You grin back and twirl around him, bumping him a bit with your tail. Damian can just barely make out the sound of you trilling under the water as you bump him back and forth a couple times, a behavior you've never exhibited before. He bumps you back, which makes you trill even louder. It's fascinating.

When you're done, you circle Damian a few times, chittering and chirping, then gently shove his shoulders and take off like a bullet through the water, off to find a space to tuck yourself into for hide and seek. You can't play tag with him, it's never fair, but other games like this are easily adaptable between the two of you, especially given that your enclosure spans several floors of the building.

As you dart across your expansive tank looking for a place to slip into, you can't fight the giddy little skip in your heart. Damian accepted your scales! He accepted them and thanked you! You're so happy he accepted your proposal to be mated!

-----

Thanks for your support! Reblogs = more content!

[just-some-random-blogger]

Of Blood & Beasts | 1

Part 2

"So—" A gasp leaves your lips. "—I've finally found you."

Gwayne Hightower x Baratheon!OC x Daemon Targaryen | 5k+ | cw: canon divergence, forced/arranged marriage, Beauty and the Beast AU, fluff, angst, etc.

A/N: IM DOING AN OCCCCC!!!!! this is came out wayyy longer than i wanted it to for a p1 T_T anyway idk what the carbon date on anyone is so just pretend everyone's age follows daemon and gwayne who are in their early 20s even tho thats OLD for them ok? ok | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat <3 hi im tagging u again HIHI & @helaenalyst it took me so long to post this i hope youre still interested T_T

You hook the carriage curtain to the side and push the window open. Floral air fill your lungs as you breathe in. You smile. You wouldn't mind living here, even if it was at the opposite edge to Storm's End.

A gust of wind blows your untied curls into your face. A squeak passes through your lips when a particularly sharp bump jostles the carriage.

It abruptly awakens the man sat across from you. You look and immediately tense at his groggy expression. Your brother grits his teeth and immediately screams, "WATCH THE FUCKING ROAD, YOU FUCKING CUNT!"

"Borros."

He bothers not spare you a glance and bangs on the side of the carriage, "I'LL HAVE YOU FUCKING FLOGGED IF YOU WAKE ME AGAIN!"

"It's hardly his fault the road is rocky."

A faint word of apology is heard from outside.

Borros turns to you, dark brows furrowed, "you're right," he quips, "it's the damned builders of this prissy city."

You merely avert your gaze outside the window again to prevent yourself from rolling your eyes.

"Smells like grandmother here," he rubs his nose, "I bet you like that, don'ch—"

"I do, in fact," you turn to him with a look of contempt.

"Well," he leans back and raises his palms, " 'nough said then. Why don't you show the lord you bosom and let him take you—"

"You are a bumbling boar, Borros," you snap.

He chuckles dryly, now fully awake, "at least I'm not Sisi the cursed doe."

You bristle as he grins and nonchalantly scratches his dark beard.

He slumps in his spot, crossing his arms through a groan, "wake me up when we get to the bloody place."

You kick his shin.

He yelps and stiffens.

Just then the carriage stops and you quickly open the door, "we're here, brother."

You are helped down by a servant and your lips part as you lift gaze upon the stony fortress that was High Tower.

Borros comes to your side, one eye narrowing at the sight, "alas, you exchange one prison for another, sister."

You watch him walk towards the gates and you grip your skirts as you follow after him, "it is not prison if I am free of you."

Your brother laughs, and only slows to do it to your face, "you will find that I am the kindest liege lord you've ever had once I'm gone."

You stare at him, unimpressed by his self-reverence.

You near the three men waiting for you at the gate. The one in the middle speaks, "we welcome you Baratheons to the High Tower. I am Hobert Hightower, Lord of Oldtown," the man says before turning to his left, "this is my son, Ormund Hightower—"

"My lord," Ormund nods to Borros then reaches a hand to you, "my lady."

You let him kiss your hand as you half-curtsy.

"—and my younger brother's son, Gwayne Hightower."

"Enchanted," Gwayne says with a bow, taking your hand next.

You forget to curtsy for him when he kisses your hand.

He smiles as he pulls away, greeting your brother next, "my lord."

Borros nods simply, "Borros Baratheon, and my sister, Isobel Baratheon."

"Warm greetings, my lords," you smile, clutching your hands in front of you.

"I trust that your travels were smooth?" asks Lord Hobert.

"No," Borros blurts the instant, "the roads where unimaginably coarse and bumpy."

You clench your jaw, though your smile grows wider.

"Ah," the old man nods, "I see.... that sounds most unpleasant."

Borros doesn't care to continue the small talk.

A beat of silence passes and you speak before it becomes uncomfortable, "the roads were scenic, however . I noticed a herd of deer on the way."

"Is the lady interested in hunting?" the red hair man asks.

The azure in his eyes imprison your gaze. You respond to his question with a shake of your head, "I am most averted by it. Woodland creatures are beautiful and as deserving of a peaceful life as we."

The men before you chuckle.

A gust of wind ruffles his coppery locks as Gwayne tilts his head, "you've a gentle heart."

"Leave it to a woman to weep for a beast's death yet wear it's leather and feast on its flesh," Ormund says.

You raise your brows, "leave it to men who know nothing of giving life to find it fickle," you appraise his attire, "I doubt it occurs to you I don silk and wool, not leather," you shrug, "and some have no taste for meat."

"Some meaning you?" he lifts his nose, "pray, what does the lady eat if not venison or beef?"

"Grass," Borros snaps.

You Baratheons turn to each other, simultaneously looking away with an eye roll. You look back at Ormund, "my diet is not something you need concern yourself with..." you raise your brows, "unless you marry me."

Borros huffs louder than he ought to, "yes, shall we talk of weddings," he motions, "after breaking fast?"

Hobert nods, "this way then."

As always, Borros insists upon leading, though it was his first time setting foot upon this place. Hobert and Ormund come to his side, itching to impress your belligerent brother.

"You are a finicky eater then, my lady?"

You turn to your right, finding a faint dimpled smile upon Gwayne.

Normally, such a question asked in such a manner made you sharp and impatient like your brother. Yet, though his eyes held a mischievous glint, it was not the usual vexing sort, and he seemed somehow genuine in his inquiry.

"Not at all. You'll find I have a healthy appetite and a love for food."

He hums, bringing his hands behind him, "so it is just woodland creatures you do not wish to consume?"

"I do not mind fowl, or-" you shake your head, "-even hare... I am most partial to fish however."

His brow quirks, "so not red meat?"

You purse your lips and shake your head, "no."

He hums and nods slowly. A few steps later, he motions, "I beginning to sense you are about to explain why."

Your nostrils flare in amusement.

Gwayne smirks softly.

You purse your lips and shake your head, "memory."

He watches your stray curls brush against your cheek amidst a gust of wind. When you do not continue your explanation, he tries to think of one himself. What he thinks of makes his jaw slack, "your late father was a proud hunter."

You watch his brows furrow.

"I do not mean to open a sore wound."

You do not respond.

"My deepest condolences."

You shake your head, "he's been dead for two years."

"And mine mother far longer," he mimics your head shake, "grief is not something easily overcome."

You hold his solemn expression, "my deepest condolences."

He softly smile, "you've a gentle heart."

The sound of Borros scarfing down food perturbs the unwitting Hightowers so badly, barely any words were exchanged during the meal. Each moment one of the men tried to bring something up, your brother would slurp or crunch so loudly, the echo would cut them off.

You were numb to his manner, having known it all your life, thus why you felt no need to react on behalf of Borros.

Ormund, who was sat across your brother, looked amazed by the speed in which he consumed food. Gwayne, who was across you, looked beyond disturbed. Hobert, at the head of the table, was trying his hardest to appear as though he didn't care.

Gwayne expression gives himself away, and when he catches the curling of his lips, he looks at you; you, who was so unbothered by Borros and seemingly bored. He clears his throat, "Is the mushroom soup—"

Borros gulps wine, red trickling the corner of his mouth into his beard.

"—to your taste, my lady?" he speaks a tad louder to drown out your brother's feasting.

You lift your gaze as you take a spoonful of the said soup. You lick your lips and smile, "tis far more flavorful than that of the soups in Storm's End."

"It is?" Gwayne raises his brows.

You nod, "I don't think—"

"It's extraordinary how much food you can fit one's mouth," Ormund blurts, loudly yet absentmindedly, eyes narrowed in fascination upon your brother.

Borros does not seem to even hear him. He merely stuffs his face and washes it down with wine... and more wine. You take notice and elbow him. He blatantly ignores you.

Lord Hobert clears his throat when he catches his son staring at their guest; the latter does not realize it was for him.

"I am surprised you do not eat the same way, Lady Isobel," Ormund asks, "does the soup not suit you?"

You look at him.

He stabs a cut of meat from his own plate and raises it, "perhaps it is only in the preparation," Ormund stands and places the meat in a plate in front of you, "you should try it."

Borros stops chewing, eyes falling upon Ormund as he sits back down.

You look at it�� venison, pinkish it still was around the edges. You clench your teeth and turn to your brother.

He stares at you, waiting to see what you would do. You could see he was now slightly swaying with how much he's had to drink in such short time.

Gwayne notices your gulp and how your lips begins to quiver. You move the plate towards your brother.

"She has no taste for venison," announces Borros, turning to the plate, "and now, neither do I."

Ormund opens his mouth but says nothing because you soon stand. As is customary, the men rise with you.

You wipe your lips with a napkin and pull a smile, "thank you for the scrumptious meal. I should like to freshen up now."

Gwayne bows as you walk off, while Ormund stammers through a nod, "my lady. If I have offended y-"

"If?" Borros snaps, then takes a final swig of wine, "if you have offended, I demand satisfaction."

Ormund tenses. Gwayne's eyes flicker to you.

"Did thee..." he burps, "lord offend thine sister?" Borros slurs slightly.

You ignore him.

"ISOBEL!"

You stop in your tracks and roll your eyes. Your smile is pinched as you turn back, "no more than you have, brother dear."

Borros slams his fist upon the table, "tis decided then. Let us be done with this bother," he raises his cup, "and meet blades. If thou defeats thee," he motions to himself, "your victory shall be my sister's hand."

Your face contorts, "you are drunk."

"Yet I be a no less formidable opponent," Borros raises a brow, "what say you?"

Ormund's mouth falls open. He remains in a state of shock for a moment, then finds himself stuttering, "I- I accept."

You sigh deeply.

"Good," your brother walks over to you, "come, girl."

He grabs your arm and both walk out the room. You whimper at his hold as he drags you quickly out with him.

"What are you doing?" you quip at him.

"Hastening our already drawn out journey. I will not waste my time on a fucking fool."

You sigh and shake your head rapidly, "Ormund cannot defeat you!"

"F'course not," he releases your arm, "I do not want to have an idiot as a good-brother, though I see you'd prefer one as a husband."

"We have traveled for days on end! I am as weary as you are. Oldtown is vast and strong. I could easily-"

"Silence," he snaps, eyeing you, "tis my duty as lord to forge strong alliances, but I will not allow by good-brother to be a daft lickspittle."

"And should I be grateful my brother decides my husband based on what he wishes for in a good-brother?"

"You should," he raises his brows and you both stop in your tracks, "you should bow and kiss my ring, in fact, for a man less honorable than I would not even put him to the test to gain power."

You stare at him then his hand when he raises it. You take it it with a tight hold and bow exaggeratedly low, "for both our sakes then," you kiss his ring, "may whomever you face after Ormund Hightower finally strike you down."

Your words make stoke your brother's temper.

Tis the reason why Ormund's life flashes before his eyes as many times as it does during their duel. Hobert Hightower stands beside you, watching rigidly as his heir and only son is brutalized by the large Baratheon man. Were it not for the steel plates on his body, Ormund would have been sliced up already.

Ormund yelps as he evades a particularly heavy blow. His heart is in his mouth as Borros chuckles out, "come now, take it like a man."

Ormund is promptly slashed on the shoulder plate. He kicks Borros away and catches his breath. Little did he know, your brother was holding back, just to make the match longer.

"I do not mean to repeat my cousin's mistake," a soft voice emerges from behind you amidst the grunting and clanking, "of offending you, that is."

You turn, watching Gwayne come to your side, hands behind his back, eyes fixed upon the violence before you.

"Would I offend you if I took a turn after him?" he slowly looks at you.

Your brows raise.

"I am not to inherit the High Tower, but my father does sit beside the King as his Hand," he tilts his head.

Hobert, on your other side, cannot contain his gasp when an rather brutal slash nearly bites through Ormund's armor.

You spare a glance at Lord Hobert before turning back to Lord Gwayne, "I would not mind a marriage to the son of the second born son..." The truth was, it would be better that you are not to be the Lady of the High Tower, as then, you will inherit less responsibilities, less worries, and your cursed form with not flare. You shrug, "...if you do not mind that I am second born."

Gwayne chuckle, "I do not," he looks forward, "I bear no affections for the first born of your family."

"Affections?" you raise a brow, "you mean to say you have affections for me."

"Yes," he looks back at you.

"How?" you face him, "we've just met. You do not know me."

Gwayne's eyes fall to you lips. His jaw feathers and his dimples deepen, "yet the look in your eyes compel me with a desire to know you for the rest of my life."

Your jaw slacks at his words. You feel hotness rise up your neck and ears.

You both tear your gaze away from each other when a a scream rips through the air, followed by a crash. Borros had kicked Ormund to the ground, causing his helm to shoot off in consequence. The raven haired man points his blade to his opponents neck, "do you yield?"

"I yield!" he huffs, raising his hands in surrender.

You all look upon Ormund, frowning in sympathy at the state of him.

Borros removes his helmet and turns to Hobert, "it seems your son shall not be my brother after all."

Hobert claps his hands together, "it would appear so."

"Perhaps I might."

You turn to Gwayne.

Borros catches his breath and watches him walk forward. Ormund struggles to his feet walks off.

"Would you grant me the honor of a match for Lady Isobel's hand?"

Your brother turns to you. You merely stare back at him.

"Verily," Borros sighs.

Gwayne examines him, his armor, his huffing and puffing, "well met," he nods, "I shall go don my armor-"

"No," Borros blurts, "do not delay," he sheathes his sword, "I shall meet your attire instead."

Your lips part and you begin to fidget your hands.

Gwayne watches Borros undo his cuffs. Borros watches Gwayne's expression, "unless thou badly fears the cut of a blade."

You knew his game, "Borros."

Borros turns to you, but ignores your look, "come help me out of this steel."

"Ser Gwayne ought to don hi-"

"No," Gwayne turns to you, "I do not mind an armorless fight," he smiles and nods, wording carefully, "thy brother seems hard-pressed to taste another victory."

You clench your teeth.

Borros chuckles, his lips lopsided and his jaw relaxed. He turns from him to you, "Isobel!"

You walk over to him and help him out of his armor. As you undo his shoulder plate, you steal a glance at Gwayne, trepidation spreading across your features as you could practically feel your brother quivering in blood lust.

Strangely, Gwayne smiles at you, as if to reassure you. It does not, for you know how strong-willed and prideful your brother is.

Once Borros was armor-free and his steel off to the side along with you, Lord Hobert, and Lord Ormund, he takes his sword and immediately begans to taunt Gwayne with stomps and slashes. Like the angry bull he was, he relentlessly alternates between rallies and charges, and soon Gwayne is pushed back against the wall.

Swords clashing and grunts are all you could hear for a long while.

"Dear Gods," Ormund mutters, turning to his father, "the Lord Hand will not take kindly to his only heir dying."

"Hush, boy," Hobert quips, "he will not kill him."

"No," Ormund looks back at the swordfight, "just turn him into minced pie."

Borros lands a blow upon Gwayne's thigh, and Gwayne lands a cut upon his arm. Gwayne is cut far deeper than his opponent, but it is Borros who groans, injured mostly in pride. Instead of pulling away, the pain dictates that he presses forward, and so he does, much to his detriment.

‎It happens in an instant.

Expecting it, counting on it, Gwayne parries and maneuvers out the way.

Borros, to make up for the dodge, twists and hacks at him but Gwayne pulls away far enough that it doesn't land. As he does, the latter lands another stroke upon his arm, deep enough that it cuts his sleeve but only to graze his skin. ‎

Taken back by the injury, Borros tries to slash his foe, but regretfully, Gwayne knew it was coming and spins away, taking the opportunity to bring him to his knees with kick him from behind. ‎Borros crashes to the ground, but before he can get up, a blade is to his neck.

‎"You fucking—" ‎

"Good-brother," Gwayne huffs. ‎

Borros clenches his jaw and flares his nostrils. ‎

"I believe that is what you wish to call me, Lord Borros," he pulls his blade away to bow at the felled fellow. ‎

Borros grits his teeth as Gwayne sheathes his sword, turning to the trickling blood on his thigh. He has half the mind to slash and lunge at him, especially after his opponent hands him an amicable hand.

‎His pride requires that he swat Gwayne's hand away, and his bruised ego makes him stand and march to you with furrowed brows. He snarls "your prayers are answered so swiftly." ‎

His words do not register. You turn to his arm, "you're bleeding, brother." ‎

Borros turns to your line of sight, seeing smeared red on his tunic. His body's exaggerated reaction wears his patience thinner, especially as it was confirmation of Gwayne's adept swordsmanship. The ginger fuck restrained himself, so not to gravely wound him. His nostrils flare as he turns to Lord Ormund, "let the honor of my house not be questioned. Where your son failed," his jaw feathers, "your nephew prevailed." ‎

Gwayne is suddenly beside you.

You lock eyes and it is then that you understand what Borros said about answered prayers— Gwayne bested your brother. ‎

"Our father has long set aside coin for her wedding, and Isobel is more than capable of planning it herself," Borros shakes his head, "I leave her under the care of your house, for Storm's End suffers without a Baratheon and we've been looking for a suitable groom for many moons now." ‎

You turn to Gwayne's injury, gulping at the sight of blood that has now dripped onto the floor.

‎"Of course," Ormund nods, "rest assured we shall treat her like our own."

‎"Perhaps we may be wed in King's Landing," Gwayne offers, turning to you.

Your brows raise.

"I ought to tell my father his only son is to be wed in person," he reaches a hand, "and I ought to bring you with me, that we may marry there."

You turn to his palm, "King's Landing?"

You do not like the idea one bit.

"Will we stay there?" you slowly lift your gaze, finding Gwayne has already caught your reluctance. You shake your head, "I've been before... I have no taste for it."

Gwayne chuckles, thoroughly amused by your frankness. He shakes his head, "I would not keep you there. We shall go, only that my father and sister may witness my marriage."

"You have a sister?" your brow quirks.

"Alicent," he smiles, "you would like her."

"Tis decided then," Borros blurts, raising a hand, "send a raven when the day is near." He slaps a hand on Gwayne's shoulder, an excessively hard one at that, "I am loath to admit defeat..." he turns to you, jaw feathering, "but—" he sigh, "at least this bother is over, and you who bested me... is a swordsman."

You lower your head, as not to laugh at his painful attempt at a compliment. You sniffle for effect, "shall I help you with your injury?"

"No," Borros snaps and walks off, "help your promised."

You and Gwayne turn to each other. Your eye widens when you see his hand pressed on his thigh, covered in blood.

Before he knows it, Gwayne is dragged to a maester and his thigh his wrapped. He doesn't remember that part at all though, as he is so deeply preoccupied with you wiping his hand with a towel.

He lies in his bed as you wipe the dried blood off his palm. The faint line between your brows and the focus on your eyes are just as captivating as your scent— deep and sweet.

When you finish, you ask for another towel from one of the present servants. Once in hand, you begin to wipe Gwayne's face. He hums contentedly. The low sound makes your stomach roll, but you ignore it.

He is most appreciative of your pampering and shamelessly leans into your touch. A thought occurs to him. He mutters, "have you treated all the men your brother's dueled this?"

"Do you assume all our visits have ended in duels?"

"I assume your brother prefers it."

Your nostrils flare faintly.

Gwayne smiles softly, knocking his nose into your wrist, "I'd like to know."

You pull your hand back, looking at his petulant look. Your lips curve in amusement as you gently brush his temple, "only the ones that have won."

Gwayne chuckles in boyish glee, "huzzah."

You finish wiping his face and pull away.

"Might I kiss you, Lady Isobel?"

You freeze, eyes widening a fraction.

Gwayne delights in the pinkishness that rises up your neck. He tilts his head, "we are to be married, after all."

"Then marry me," you chuck the towel to his face, "and I'll kiss you, ser."

Gwayne chuckles as he sits up, watching you head for the door. He is about to stand and chase after you, but you strangely do not exit and instead ask the servants to leave the room. He gulps when he catches your expression; determination is upon your face.

One by one the servants trickle out, and once it's but you and him, you march over and motion with your head, "rise."

He is quick to his feet.

Your stomach drops as he presses close, close enough that your chests nearly meet. Taking it as a challenge, you do not pull back, instead you push him away.

Gwayne's heart races when you press your hand upon his chest.

"There is something you much know."

"Speak it," he responds eagerly.

Your throat tightens and you lower your gaze. You draw a deep breath and gather your courage to tell him what was clawing your inside, "when my fath- ther—"

Gwayne lowers his head, brows furrowing. He gently encourages, "when your father..."

You draw a deep breath, "when my father died..."

He watches you fidget. He wonders if it would do you good if he took your hand or would it inspire only further fidgeting.

"I was the one who found him in the forest," you lift your gaze, throat now uncomfortably tight.

His brows furrow at the glassiness of your eyes. He nods slowly in encouragement.

"I..." your voice shakes, "I..." you chuckle, though unamused, "have not been the same since, a- and-"

Gwayne hears the way your breath hitches. He slowly takes your hand and squeezes it.

You squeeze him back. You can't say it.

You tremble in his hold and it summons protectiveness in Gwayne.

"I merely-" you try to pull away.

He notices and loosens his hold, but does not let you go.

You defeatedly lower your head and evade what you truly wanted to say, "I like sneaking off into the woods."

Gwayne's brows furrow further. He rubs your skin with his thumb.

"If in King's Landing I go missing," you lift your gaze, "then you should know to look for me in the thickets."

The confession perplexes him.

Yes, leaving without word is not something he'd enjoy from his bride, and yet he wonders why such a thing distressed you so. He decides not to press on the matter, as you looked like you were about to break into tears. He offers, "you needn't go missing. I would gladly accompany my lady wherever she need."

You feel sick. You rapidly shake your head, "you must let me leave on my own. Only if I do not return an hour hence... then, you may look for me."

Gwayne's expression twists in confusion.

Trepidation and guilt claw at you, and yet, all the solace you can offer is: "I will explain everything to you, I swear... it's just that- that-"

"Do not fret," he cuts you off, squeezing your hands, "we've only just met," he nods, "I do not expect to know everything about you in one day. We have the rest of our lives ahead of us."

You feel tears rush down your cheek when Gwayne smiles. So as the gods curse, they seem to also bless.

Yet you are cursed.

Your body reminds you of it the moment you arrive in King's Landing with Gwayne. It is a terribly suffocating place and you find yourself worrying so much, you are forced to seek refuge in the forests outside its walls.

Presently, you roam there alone. You feel feverish. You feel morbid.

You rid yourself of your garbs and shoes, feeling your body equally repel and welcome the icy waters of the ravine you chanced upon as your body aches and twists.

Your worry and grief mangles you into this beast, weepy and helpless and melancholy. Your distorted reflection in the water only assures you that all the memories you've tried to trick yourself into believing are nightmares were, in fact, reality. The sight of you pinkish doe eyes only make you weep even more.

If Gwayne saw you like this... if he knew—

Your nostrils flare when you hear a twig snap from behind you. You submerge yourself entirely into the cold water. You cannot be seen. You cannot be seen like this.

The water rushing into your mouth mangles the scream you let out as your body twists in the water as you make an attempt to hide behind the rock where you had placed your clothes.

Someone is here. You bite your lips so hard blood is nearly drawn out.

You thank the gods your hand emerges quickly. You reach for your clothes and quickly try to dress yourself.

"No hurry."

You tense and rush to cover your chest.

"I would have preferred if you kept your clothing off, actually."

You gulp and step back, legs still wobbly from your wretched twisting.

It is strange that it dawns on you that you recognized him from his expression and not his silver hair. Prince Daemon presses nearer and you snatch your robe, draping it around you before he can come any closer. You do not bother with your shoes.

You have a pretty face, Daemon thinks, and prettier lips. He'd love to wipe them dry, only to wet them again with his seed. He smiles akin to how a wolf would at a lamb, "what are you called then?"

You shake your head, "nothing."

He hums, "is that Pentoshi?"

You step back and feel for your pocket in your robe.

A painful silence drags out.

Daemon steps closer, "a jest."

You find your pocket, thereby finding your dagger.

"Do they not have humor where you're from?"

You merely step back, refusing to entertain his small talk.

He takes two large strides towards you, causing you to flinch back. He stops to chuckle, "well, speak, girl."

You grit your teeth.

"Do you not have humor where you're from?" he repeats with raised brow.

"Yes," you quip, clutching your robe-pocket, "the amusing kind."

He pulls his head back at your response, taken aback by the snark. The Targaryen laughs, placing a hand on his belly before the tongue of his ancestors, "oh, kesan raqagon ao." Oh, I will enjoy you.

Your jaw tenses, yet you quip again, "I do not understand."

Daemon tilts his head, "you're not meant to."

"I am," your brow furrows, "or else you wouldn't have spoken it."

He chuckles again, "such a wit," he tries to circle around you, "you surely drove your septa mad."

Your tightening throat makes you choke out a lie, "I am no lady, my lord."

He pulls his chin back. He chuckles dryly, "no?"

"I must return," you blurt through a headshake, "I have duties yet to complete."

"Mmm," he raises a hand, abruptly stopping your attempt to walk off. Your heart begins to race at the idea of him laying his hands on you. He tilts his head, "don't you know who I am?"

You gulp and lower your gaze. His question made it clear to you that he knew you were lying. A prince who dealt daily with lickspittles and bootlickers are well-versed in falsehoods. You mumble, "yes."

His nostrils flare in amusement, "what's my name then, girl?

You slowly lift your head, "Rogue Prince."

Daemon laughs, hand coming to his belly once more, "you're clearly know not what a name is."

He takes another step towards you, and you can no longer stay still. Though the chances of you slipping past him were slim, you take it and pray you were lithe enough to evade him.

You bolt.

You barely get past him.

"Wait!" he chuckles and grabs your hand. You gasp, heart thundering in your ears as you turn back to him. He repeats, "wait."

You tighten your robe around you as he inches nearer. Just as he parts his grinning lips to taunt you further, he freezes at the faint sharpness biting at his side. He looks down, finding a blade pressed against his stomach. He tilts his head at you, "you would dare stab a prince?"

"Dare I?" you quip through a shrug, "step forward and we shall see together."

Daemon chuckles. Gods, he wants you.

"My husband will demand satisfaction."

His face falls, "husband?"

"Yes. You and your house will be ruined if you touch me."

He tilts his head, "for taking a pretty servant girl?"

You tense. He notices. It makes his lips curve, "come now. Do not think yourself to be so special. You would not be the first low born to carry the crown's basta-"

"Gwayne Hightower."

His brows furrow.

"My husband is Gwayne Hightower."

The words hit a nerve, and you see it, which is why you manage to rip your hand away from him

He does not try to snatch you again, though contrary to what you think, it is not because you point your dagger at him as you back away. Of all names you could mention, that is what you do. He does not know if you speak in confidence of his hatred for house Cunttower, or because it was the actual truth.

You manage to put a decent amount of distance between the two of you, but you are not stupid enough to believe he will suddenly just let you go. "Turn around."

"What?" he raises his brows.

You are, however, wise enough to know men like him love games. "Turn around and count to ten-" you adjust your hold on your dagger, "that I may run away from you."

His brows push higher, "ten?" Daemon laughs. He laughs loudly, "you think I would not catch you after a ten second head start?"

"N-"

"Or do you assume I would not chase you?"

You grit your teeth.

Daemon's smirk widens.

You shudder out a sigh, "you will not catch me."

He laughs again. He is excited by your confidence. He shifts on his right leg, "and when I do?"

"You will no-"

"But when I do?" he cuts you off.

"If," you snap, poking the air with your weapon, "you do..." you shake your head, "then you shall undoubtedly act out whatever perversion you are thinking of doing to me."

Yet another laugh falls from his lips. Daemon wipes away a tear, "your assuredness astounds me."

You tense when he takes another step forward.

"I have half the mind not to let you run."

"Then you will never know if you could have caught me."

"I wi-"

"You won't," you take your turn cutting him off.

Daemon freezes. Prideful excitement latches onto him. He does love a chase. He looks at you one last time before tilting his head and turning around.

You instantly dash away.

"One—"

The sound of you galloping fills the air.

It's odd it seemingly gets louder, heavier, and impossibly fast, as if you were suddenly on horseback.

"Seven..." he turns, looking out to a vast nothingness with only your shoes as evidence you were ever there. "No," he huffs and picks them up, "she can't have gone far."

[zoeykallus]

TBB x Gender-neutral Reader (Extended) HCs – Lost Something? Part 2/3/4/5

(Echo/Wrecker/Tech/Crosshair)

Warnings: Partly Slightly Suggestive/Mostly Fluff/Tiny Bit Angsty

This is the continuation of this request:

Reader stole the batcher's weapon. Let's see how they get it back.

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

Echo

Echo runs through the Marauders like a startled chicken, followed by the confused looks of his team. "Has anyone seen my blaster?" Hunter, who is putting on his gloves, looks over at him. "You lost your blaster?" Echo sighs annoyed and says, "No I haven't" Wrecker says with a raised eyebrow, "But you can't find it" "Yeah" Tech shrugs his shoulders without looking up from his holopad and says, "Sounds to me like you lost it" Echo waves it off in annoyance and insists, "No I haven't. I never lose parts of my equipment" It annoys him that he doesn't know where his blaster is, he was sure he'd left it with the rest of his gear when he went to bed that night and he says so. Crosshair leans out of his bunk, rolling a toothpick from one corner of his mouth to the other before saying. "You didn't go to bed alone last night I take it"

Echo's ears turn red. He pauses briefly in his movement, then turns to the Sniper. "What makes you think that?" Crosshair smirks, takes the toothpick out of his mouth and says, "You were alone on the Marauder for most of the night, I assume you took advantage of that fact." Wrecker asked excitedly, "Ooooh, Echo has a lover? Instead of answering, Echo rushes out of the room, locks himself in the cockpit and immediately starts a holo-call. His heart is pounding in his throat as your face appears on the holo, not just because he's upset and excited, the sight of you alone is enough to raise his pulse. "Took you long enough," you say with a cheeky smile. "You've got my blaster" It's not a question, it's a statement. Inwardly, he's annoyed that Crosshair thought of it before him. You lift the blaster into the holo for him to see. Echo lets out a deep sigh, relieved, a little annoyed. "I need it back," he says sternly.

You smile unperturbed and say, "I thought so. Then come and get it" "But-" You hang up before he can finish the sentence. A little stunned, Echo stares at the spot where the holo with your face used to be. When Echo comes out of the cockpit, he literally stomps through the main room towards the ramp. Hunter asks him cautiously, "Where are you going?" "Spanking someone's ass," Echo growls. "Kinky." Echo's eyes spark as he snaps, "Shut Up, Crosshair" The Sniper leans back in his bunk, unimpressed, chuckling softly.

You've been out all day, had some things to do. Echo didn't try to call again. But as you land your shuttle at the usual landing spot and open your ramp, you hear his footsteps on the ramp and in the ship before you even leave the cockpit.

He stops in the doorway to the cockpit, his gaze so serious and stony that at first you can't help but gulp. After a few seconds, you find your voice again. "Have you been waiting on the landing pad all day?" "Yes" The answer is very curt, a little abrupt. He stretches out his remaining hand, challenging you with a steely gaze. You feel yourself shrinking under his gaze as you pull out the blaster and place it in his hand. Echo holsters the weapon directly, still staring at you. "I should spank your behind" You say cheekily, "Okay. Do you want me to take my clothes off first?" Echo raises a brow in confusion, but he doesn't stop you from unbuttoning your flight suit. "Somehow I imagined it would be different," he says, a little beside himself. "Disappointed? Should I stop?" Echo licks his lips and shakes his head.

"Uh, no it's okay, we'll see where this takes us" You laugh softly, kiss his heated cheek and say, "Well, I was hoping to my bunk"

Wrecker

It's a beautiful evening. The weather is warm, but not too hot. The dinner was delicious, and the atmosphere great. A perfect moment to pass the time with Wrecker. The nice thing about Wrecker is that he's up for any kind of nonsense and is anything but a party pooper. You've been fooling around for a while now. You've managed to take his blaster out of its holster and to get it back, Wrecker has been chasing you around the massive dining table on one of the terraces on Pabuu for a few minutes now. The others have long since left the scene, some laughing or grinning, others (Crosshair) rolling their eyes. You giggle happily and change direction every time he tries to trick you. A little out of breath, you tell him, "I won't make it that easy for you!" Wrecker lets out a cheerful laugh that almost sounds like thunder. "I'll get you one way or another, just wait and see" As he changes direction again, you do the same, squealing happily.

"We'll see about that," you answer cheekily. You have to hand it to Wrecker, as impatient as he sometimes is, when it comes to fun and games, he usually has the patience of an angel. You've been running around for so long, your lungs are starting to burn, your faces are flushed with exertion, but you both grin happily when your eyes meet. But then something happens that you don't expect. With a cheerful exclamation, Wrecker grabs the massive table and throws it behind him, removing the barrier between the two of you. He suddenly stands very close to you and grins down at you. You look up at him, still holding his blaster. "Told you I'd get you," he says, amused. "What the hell.... what happened to my table?" You both look to the side, startled, to where an exasperated Phee crosses her slender arms in front of her chest. "Uh," Wrecker begins, "We were just fooling around a bit."

Phee rolls her eyes and asks, "And you had to destroy my table to do that? Who's going to replace it for me?" A sigh is heard from the other direction, followed shortly by Hunter's unmistakable voice. "Wrecker. Care to explain that to me?" The giant shrugs his shoulders and says with a sweeping gesture, "We were fooling around and then things went off the rails" "So nothing new," Hunter sighs, "Do me a favor and go fool around somewhere you can't destroy anything" You look at Wrecker and ask, "Beach?" Wrecker grins broadly at you. "Beach!" he confirms, nodding and running after you. Phee and Hunter look after you both. The squad leader sighs again, whereupon Phee says amusedly, "Those two will be your downfall one day" Hunter laughs softly, "I know"

Tech

Tech is obsessively rummaging through his things in his bunk. "That's not possible..." Crosshair has been watching his brother in silence for a while now, but finally asks, "Did you lose something?" Tech grinds his teeth before answering, "My blasters are gone" Crosshair frowns. "Both of them?" "Both of them," Tech confirms, vigorously adjusting his goggles. "You're a slob, I wouldn't find anything in this mess either," the Sniper grumbles dryly. Tech takes a deep breath, straightens up and looks at his brother seriously. "I'm not a slob," he replies critically "Yes you are, you're a total slob, you hardly ever put anything away. Your bunk looks like a garbage dump" Tech touches his forehead as if he has a headache, then raises his finger in the air and says, "I don't need order to find my way around. I don't have to obsessively tidy everything like you do, no matter how messy my stuff and my bunk are, I always know exactly where my stuff is" Crosshair smirks and teases, "Then you certainly know where your blasters are"

Tech's ears turn red, he turns away and rummages around in his bunk for a while, sighing again and again in frustration. "Didn't you have a visitor yesterday?" Crosshair asks meaningfully. Tech turns back to him. "Yes, I did have a visitor. And?" Crosshair shrugs his shoulders suggestively. "If the blasters are suddenly gone, maybe someone took them." Tech frowns. "No, that can't be. They wouldn't do that. Why would they do that?" Crosshair shrugs again, leans back in his bunk and says, "How should I know? It's not my love interest." With a bright red head, Tech leaves the Marauder to make his way to you.

You are looking out of your window when you see him walking across the courtyard. He seems to be deep in thought and keeps shaking his head. You smile, apparently he has noticed that his blasters are missing. Shortly afterwards, you hear your doorbell ring. Tech keeps his finger on the bell for longer than necessary, a very energetic ring. You press the door opener without using the intercom. When he arrives at your apartment, he has already raised his finger. "How many times do I have to tell you not to just press the door opener? You have to make sure who's at the door, it's dangerous!" You say calmly, "I saw you at the window. But it's sweet that you're worried about me" Tech sighs softly, straightens his shoulders and straightens up a little. "I'd like my blasters back" "That's what I thought. But I want something in return" Tech frowns and asks, "So you stole my blasters to extort something from me?"

Now you frown, "Well, when you put it like that, it sounds so crude and unromantic" His eyebrows move upwards in surprise. He asks confused, "Stealing my blasters was a romantic gesture?" You laugh softly and say as warmth rises in your cheeks, "I was going to ask for some of those sweet kisses you gave me yesterday in exchange" The corners of Tech's mouth twitch, his ears turn red, and he nervously shuffles his foot on the floor. "I only gave you one kiss yesterday. That was our first kiss," he corrects. When he thinks about it, his pulse starts to race again, his heart beats wildly and his body is suddenly filled with this incredible lightness again. "That's right. But now I want more," you say, biting your lower lip. Tech, steps closer and says, "A kiss for every blaster?" "Two per blaster," you say hastily, your ears already glowing hot and your puls racing through you. Tech smirks. "Okay, I think we can do that"

Crosshair

"No" "But-" "No," the Sniper repeats seriously, "This is not a weapon for beginners. You'll learn with the training rifle first and when I think you're ready, I might let you shoot with the Firepuncher" You sigh and roll your eyes. He has just turned his back to you and is putting the training gun away, but still he says, "Stop rolling your eyes. You're learning from me because I'm the professional, so trust my judgment too" "You're stupid," you say, pouting. Crosshair chuckles softly, turns to you and asks, "Then why do you keep coming here to train with me?" You point at his gun and say, "Because I want to shoot that thing someday" His eyebrows move upwards, and he asks, "So you only come here for the Firepuncher?" You shrug your shoulders and say cheekily, "Mostly" "You're a bad liar," Crosshair says, amused. You laugh and ask, "Why? What do you think I came here for?" Crosshair spreads his arms and strikes a pose. "To use my brother's words - isn't it obvious?..."

"You think I'm here for you?" you ask with a grin, "Well, maybe a little, but I think the Firepuncher is hotter" Crosshair laughs and continues packing. "Can't say I blame you" You watch him pack up the gear, then you hear his brother call out to him from the shuttle. "Excuse me a moment," Crosshair says, and disappears up the ramp inside. Your eyes fall on the case with the Firepuncher. You can't help yourself, you can't resist. You open the case, grab the gun and close the case again. You know he'll be angry, but the temptation is just too powerful.

When Crosshair comes out again and sees that you've already left, he sighs softly. He likes your visits, likes talking to you. Whenever you part ways, he feels a certain longing to have you with him for longer. He comforts himself with the thought that you will come back, if only because of the Firpuncher. He smiles and reaches for his weapon case, but his smile freezes. The case is clearly too light. He hastily puts the case back down and opens it. Empty. "You lousy little..." With a growl, the Sniper sets off. He already suspects where you might be.

The rifle is heavier than you expected, just aiming it properly is a challenge. "Maybe I should lie down," you mutter quietly to yourself. "And pull your pants down while you're at it, so I can spank your ass!" Crosshair's smoky voice startles you so much that you hastily turn around with an already embarrassingly high-pitched yelp and drop the gun on the grass. You stumble backwards as he comes towards you and almost fall, but the Sniper grabs the collar of your jacket just in time to hold you steady. "Not only are you stealing my gun, now you're dropping it!" "Not on purpose!" you say hurriedly and adjust your jacket as he lets go of you with a snort. His serious eyes bore into yours, and you don't even dare to blink for a long moment. Cautiously, you ask him, "How upset are you?" Crosshair crosses his arms in front of his chest and sighs heavily. "Very, to say the least." You smile wryly and say, "But you stopped me from falling down, so you don't hate me too much" He rolls his eyes, unknots his arms and picks up the Firepuncher from the grass. "Lie down," he grumbles. "What?" you ask, perplexed.

Impatiently, he snaps his fingers repeatedly and grumbles, "Do you want to learn something or not?" You hastily lie down on your stomach in the grass, Crosshair lies down next to you, presses the rifle into your hands and shows you how to use it properly. "How did you actually find me?" you want to know. Crosshair snorts softly and says almost gently, "This is where we practiced for the first time." "You remember that?" He rolls his eyes and says, "I never forget anything" You take a few practice shots and it goes well. Satisfied, you turn your head in his direction and smile. His expression doesn't say much, but he says, "Not bad for an amateur" As you look at him a little longer, studying the lines on his face, unable to help but admire his face, Crosshair suddenly snaps, "Stop staring at me like a love-struck dove, look at your target" As you hurriedly look forward again, your ears getting hot, a smile twitches at the corners of his mouth. He likes you too, very much so, but he won't tell you anytime soon.

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

@clonelovr

[lazywriter7]

Written for the Stony AUgust event, for week two/time period. Go check them out at @stonyauniverse!

we were infinite (6257 words) by lazywriter7 Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark, Maria Stark & Tony Stark Characters: Tony Stark, Steve Rogers, Maria Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes, James "Bucky" Barnes, Howard Stark Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Middle School, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Childhood Friends, Video & Computer Games, Rollercoaster Tycoon, POV Tony Stark, early 2000s nostalgia, Fluff and Humor, Melancholy, Artist Steve Rogers, Growing Up, Coming of Age, Hyperfixations, Eventual Happy Ending Summary: The year is 2002. Boy meets boy. Both boys get obsessed with Rollercoaster Tycoon. They become best friends. And then they part ways, never to meet again. Probably. But childhood obsessions have a way of coming back to you.

[lavender-lotion]

WIP TITLE GAME

RULES: Reveal the titles of the documents in your WIP folder and tag as many people as there are documents. Let others ask questions about the ones that interest them and post snippets or explain the contents as you see fit!

i have a whooping 238 WIPS in my WIP folder SO I am co-opting this wip game to make my own!!

send me a title and i'll send you an excerpt from the WIP (or, if there's nothing written, i'll explain what the WIP idea is!)!

Criminal Minds:

Hotch insulting Reid to the unsub - praise and comfort and flirty existing back and forth

Hotch/Reid

Hotch/Reid gun range

hotch/reid hospital au

Morgan/Reid - S2 E4

Crossovers/Miscellaneous Fandoms

bucky/stiles

TW x Glee

venom/eddie/peter

X-Men / MCU

DC Extended Universe

Superbat

Encanto

antonio/parce

5 times Antonio helps Bruno +1 time Bruno helps Antonio

5 times Antonio crawls into bed with Camilo +1 time Camilo crawls into bed with Antonio

Antonio/Camilo

5 accidental dates +1 purposeful proposal / 5 times Mariano took Camilo on a date without realizing it +1 time he took Camilo on a date with Dolores on purpose

Mariano/Dolores/Camilo

Fate: The Winx Saga

5 times Riven gives Dane a first +1 time Dane gave Riven a first

Riven/Dane/Beatrix

Glee

Glee fic list

Kurt/Chandler

kurt/kenny

will/kurt

hummelcest pt 3

puckurtcest pt 2

with puck pt 2

sam not backing down

sam/kurt

kurt picking up dave's call

Kurtofsky - long fic coming out

Kurtofsky - after prom season 2

Ep 5:

Pukcurt

Puckurt - visiting during juvie

Kingsman (Movies)

Dad Eggsy

Eggsy/Roxy/Merlin

eggsy/trans roxy

emerging from the night and heart of me

Kingsman

Kingsman

protective eggsy

tattoo au

Touched starved merlin

Marvel Cinematic Universe

5 times Happy patched up Peter and 1 time Peter patches up Happy

confrontation fic - venom

Jarvis/Tony

MindSpider - confrontation fic

Peter Harley James

stony dick pic

Twitter fic

Bruce Banner/Peter Parker Dom/Sub

DRAFT (hold me) steady

DRAFT to love and be loved by you

FINAL (hold me) steady

FINAL to love and be loved by you

GammaSpider continuation Hulk crush

hulk fic edits

Ned/Peter 2

Rhodey/Tony

keenker kinktober 12

drabble prompts spideypool confrontation fic

spideypool asexual gift for frosted goddess

Spideypool Big Bang

Spideypool prompt

Starker Big Bang

starker field trip fic

Starker Mob AU

I Built my Home, Inside Of You

Thorki

Thor/Peter

Bucky/Peter sex worker fic

Physiotherapy (I'll Be Your Baby)

WINTERspider - confrontation

winterspider date fluff

winterspider smut

Ragnarok (TV 2020)

Laurits finds Magne after the show

Loki Laurits

primal Laurits

Ragnarok s2e1

Ragnarok s2e1

S2E3 - key kiss

S2E5

Teen Wolf

Alpha Twins/Stiles

merwin bday fic - stiles/alpha pack?

peter/jackson

Sheriff Stilinski Gets Some Good Lovin'

stiles in make up

Untitled Document

love confession??

part 3

Together, We Belong

Writing - Together, We Belong

chris/derek dom/sub

Deter -

deter marriage proposal

stiles/sam prompt sam saving stiles

Dressing porn

JR/Tyler

RPF

season 2 stackson

June 19 - Smut

June 20: Relationship Reveal

June 23: Free Day

Stalion magic alpha pack

Stallison

Beacn stanny

camboy stiles - stanny

gift for merwin

Gone and Past

Sr stalion And stennis

Stennis

Stennis sex

Feral Derek

Kate takes video of essentially rape

A Rut(acular) Tale

bmtmm

breathing you in sequel

continuation to fox!stiles

fox stiles installment

hale family

hornet au

Sr. Steter

seter courting??

steter for harry—alpha rut

steter kidfic

familiar steterek

Set up on date

steterek

Steterek kisses

steterek sad derek

young steterek

young steterek

Soft steter->stetopher

stetopher series fight

tattoos

You Fill My Heart (With Such a Gentle Love)

alpha stiles omega john

Co-Write Thiny-Y

De-aged Sheriff

drunk dick pic stilinksicest

Impregnation kink

john jacking stiles off when he can't use his hands

John/Jordan/Stiles

Possessive fox sheriff claims his son

stilinskicest abusive claudia

Stilinskicest tattoo

Teen wolf gift for Levi

Twincest only fans

The House in the Cerulean Sea

Linus/Arthur

Phee/David

5 courting gifts Lucy gives Sal +1 (hopeful) courting gift Sal gives Lucy

chase

Salucy college au

the (delectable) devil

Weird City

smexy massage

X-Men

Charles angst childhood telepathy

Charles waking up in Jakob's arms

dadneto saves the day

Emma Frost/Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier

Erik/Shaw

jakob/charles series

kurt/hank

Lonkma

Mutant High Verse

Phoenix Peter

quogan

Rare's En/Charles

Rare's Xavierine

Alemando age play

5 times Jas and Jimmy tried to seduce Piotr +1 time they didn't have to

jammy

kitney making out

Lonk first time

Lonk pt 2 "I have never felt so content with unexpected discoveries"

Lonk pt 2 PLANNING

Azazel/Janos snowball fight

azjanos

bobby/john discovering cherik

cain developing his mutation

Cain Marko/Charles Xavier AU

chain + body worship

Chain sharing a bed

cherigan fic

bab smut

charles mom sucks

Cherik Dating App

Co-Write Cherik AU

Dance Dads AU

Erik goes back in time cause Charles is dead but overshoots

post dofp smut

they slipped briskly into an intimacy from which they never recovered

unbendable

bamg emma kdinapped angel

Emmangel Christmas

for even if she flees, soon she shall pursue

you cast diamonds across the waters of my innocence

magnet smut

Mags Family

Nina

Peter/Wendy POV

Hank and Alex bond during lab time

logan/emma

Lonk

Lonk

Lonk awkwardly flirting for jasp

Lonk for lib

lonk kids action

lonk patching up

first meeting

5 times Kurt makes Peter bust a nut in his pants and 1 time Peter busts a nut in his pants on his own

Night silver

peter putting himself down

Angry Erik

QUICKNETO

quickneto identity reveal

original timeline grief fuck

scogan first meeting

scogan peach

Incest continuation

Summerscest ANGST

war photo masturbation

xavierine fic

Young Justice

Dick and Wally team up to seduce Conner

awuabird

S1E16 - aquabird

S1E18 - aquabird

birdflash

S1E16 - crack spitfire and aqua bird

S1E17 0 spitfire

S1e20 spitfire

SpitFire - S1E14 short

5 times superboy watches tv alone and one time dock watches tv with him

drabble prompts superbird

S1E17 - superbird

SuperBird - S1E16 superbird

superbird continutation TO WORK ON

Superbird s1e5

superboy asking out dick

Unsorted

A Guest Star

Anniversary fic

aquabird

chp 2. You Are so Much Better Than I Ever Knew Before

co-parent stanny post season 2

Gar/Connor

glee ideas

kuniff day 1

Kuniff day 2

kurtosfky pt 2

poly cule

poly fic act 1

poly fic act 2

poly fic act 3

PROMPTS:

Puckurt Sarah fic

stanny post season 2

sterek post season 2

twin fic sequel

Untitled Document

Untitled Document

winter/peter

open tag to anyone who read them all haha

[xinsomniac1101x]

Part 1 of my contribution to the Superhusbands Aluminum Anniversary Anthology ( @stevetonystudios ). I was lucky to be able to partake in an anthology full of so much talented works! :D

Go here to download the whole anthology for free! It is almost 600 pages of wonderful glorious Stony love! ♥♥♥

Many thanks and hugs to @kdm103020doesstony (aka kdm103020 it wouldn’t let me tag this username for some reason *cries*). I would never have been able to even finish this comic on time nor would it have turned out as well as it had, without her brilliant editing skills and her critical eye! It was so great working with her during the RBB2017 and during this project! Again, thank you so much! You are a joy to work with and a wonderful person! :3

Part 1 | Part 2

[juuls]

Juulna’s 2021 Multi-Fandom Fanfiction Rec List - Part Two

(Yes, I realize this is a year late, but this year's been a bit nuts. I still hope you enjoy these fics anyway!)

Based only on what I’ve read with my own eyes this year!

Follow me on my journey into what, at times, was…

…actually rather calming! Perhaps you can find some comfort and entertainment, fluff and angst and romance and friendship, smut and a distinct lack of it, space adventures and fantasy and modern adventures, serial killers and good guys, redemption and reconciliation and learning to become someone completely different — there is so much here I read that stuck with me over the past year, and the 2021 Fanfic Reading Challenge ( @fanfic-reading-challenge ) allowed me a new way to keep track of all of my favourites. So props to that event! Definitely participating again (considering I run the event, yeah, that's probably a given lol, but full disclosure).

Without further ado, here were my 2021 fic favourites!

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six

Fandom: Marvel (Comics & MCU)

Stony, Polyvengers:

you great unfinished symphony (you sent for me) by @ketchupcrisp

The last thing Steve Rogers ever expected to see on a Wednesday afternoon was his (their) dead submissive tumbling out of a portal and practically into Phil’s lap, very much alive and frantic about Soul Stones and timelines and some other version of the team.

Avengers Family:

Of Spectrums and Spoons by @calloftherunningtide

Natasha had been taught to pretend – to act and respond just like she was supposed to act and respond - from an early age.

Things You Learn In the Kitchen at Night by @buzzcat

When Darcy went into the kitchen that night, she didn't expect to meet her platonic soul mate or Tony Stark, let alone have them be one and the same person.

Iron Family (typically very Civil War Team Iron Man):

Second Chances by @izazov

Tony Stark is in love with Steve Rogers. Also, he is dying. There is no direct correlation between those two facts. But there is also the matter of Steve Rogers having no idea about Tony’s feelings.

And all that's best of dark and bright by @kaaterinapetrova

When Steve Rogers leaves her to die in Siberia, Toni Stark hacks her soulmark apart, tears the flesh and veins until she is blinded with pain, and waits to die. Up above, somewhere in the universe, something fractures.

Trigger warning for cutting, suicidal thoughts, breakdown.

Siren by @tsuki-chibi

When the exvengers were granted pardons, they return to the Compound. Steve was prepared to fight an uphill battle, but not for the biggest change of all:a clone of Peggy Carter, who is already at the Compound and acting as the newest Avenger. Determined to see everything go back to the way it was, Steve, Wanda and Clint become obsessed with figuring out a way to upstage the New Avengers and prove that the Accords are unnecessary.

Spoiler: their plan doesn't work.

Basic Rules by @striving-artist

It said something about Toni’s life that she had an established system in case of kidnapping and torture, and while there had been tweaks, it was still basically the same as from when she was a kid.

1. Let them underestimate you. 2. Don’t fight back until you have an exit. 3. Lie from the start. 4. Protect what matters. 5. Assume no one is coming to help.

you want a war? (you don't know what you're asking for) by @dyke-yoonji

“And now? Now you’ve all betrayed,”  Steve flinched at the choice of words, “Stark, and Potts and Rhodes are not going to sit and take it.”

Natasha frowned at the phone. “What does this mean for us?”

Fury laughed - an ugly laugh with no myrth in it. “It means that Potts or Rhodes are the ones who sent me this phone because they wanted me to contact you. They wanted me - and you - to know that they are with Stark, that they are the line of defence between him and us.”   “It means that they just declared war. God have mercy on your souls.”

Tony Stark is Not a Supervillain (But his Poker Group All Are) by DaughteroftheSilverMoon

A superhero walks into a room full of villains- and they play poker and give him a drink. After all, it's the polite thing to do. Only then they get to liking him, and all of a sudden they're slaying dragons for the good guys. It's very disconcerting, but kind of nice.

The Worst Job by @thealextheshipper

Jessica is assigned as the Rogue Avengers Accords delegate upon their return to the US, on the plus side she befriends Tony Stark, on the down side she has to deal with PR nightmare Steve Rogers, and his best friend PR nightmare Clint Barton.

DomesticIronHawk: (Laura/Clint/Tony)

Set On Fire by @allthemarvelousrage

She's not sure if she forgot to take her suppressants, or if something Wanda did screwed with her meds, but her world is on fire for the first time in years, and there's no one to help her through it... until there is.

IronMarvel:

Keep Me in Your Orbit by @moonlitmidnight-1

A post Civil War AU in which Toni knew Carol during the events of Captain Marvel, and was the person she gave the pager to.

IronStrange:

ARC I: An Infinity In The Wings by @bad-days-and-beautiful-nights

Stephen and Toni met just before she's kidnapped. They spent the night together and when she returns, they strike up an easy friendship. Soon enough, Stephen falls in love with her, but by the time he realizes, it's too late. Hoping she never finds out, he gracefully steps back, trusting Captain America to be the right man for his best friend. But when Steve surprises everyone and Toni ends up at death's door for the fourth time, Stephen has to re-evaluate his life's choices.

IronTaser:

Disinformed by Del_Rion

It’s time to come clean about Phil Coulson’s death. Out of all the Avengers, Tony’s reaction is the most surprising, and Phil must investigate it further.

Maria Hill/Sif:

Diplomatic Relations and Intelligence Failures by @scifigrl47

Maria Hill would like a night off, and maybe a date. She's not likely to get either one of them, so she's pretty resigned to long nights of protecting the world from behind the scenes. It's very satisfying, but not quite in the way she's hoping for.

Most people who know Maria are far too intimidated to make a pass. Luckily, the Lady Sif doesn't have that problem.

Phlint:

SHIELD Has Paperwork for Everything by @scifigrl47

Clint Barton knows where his loyalties lie, and they have more to do with his handler than his employer. Phil Coulson takes his responsibilities seriously, and a big part of his job is protecting the agent in his care from any threat to his well-being.

At this rate, neither of them is going to get a date. Natasha Romanov has other ideas, and the only side she's on is her own.

Stucky:

Reputation by @cpt-winniethepooh

Captain America is a hero to the nation, but an uncomfortable cage for Steve Rogers. He is confined by his reputation as the boring Avenger, Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes, and has long given up on hope to change his public image.

Then he meets James Barnes, the infamous assassin also known as the Winter Soldier, who recently switched sides and is now working for the US instead of Russia. Barnes is tall, dark and handsome with his man-bun and eyeliner, and everything Steve shouldn’t want but does.

But just as there is more to Steve than Cap, there is more to Barnes than the Soldier - but will they be able to see that and find happiness?

An albumfic about finding love through the noise, set to the tune and narrative of Taylor Swift’s Reputation.

Steve Rogers at 100: Celebrating Captain America on Film by @hellotailor, @alwaysalreadyangry, eleveninches, febricant, @morgan-leigh

“Heil Hydra,” the enemy agent shouts. 

“Heil this, motherfucker,” says Captain America, shooting off a rocket.

Steve and Bucky find out Hollywood has been busy since they went away. A historical survey, including but not limited to: one set of exploded genitals, a brief interlude in France, Mel Gibson and other masterworks of casting, eight Academy awards, several dinosaurs, and something Tony Stark has ominously dubbed “the masterpiece.” Art included.

Steve Rogers and the minefields of social media by @cpt-winniethepooh

Steve gets a Twitter account, then an Instagram one, then he gets Bucky back, too.

ThunderIron:

King Of Hearts, Queen Of . . . Nothing by ThatDamnKennedyKid

He was sure that she didn't remember, not with the way she had cried herself into drunken slumber in his arms. That did not mean he forgot. Not anything - not the painful slurs from her father that lingered in her mind, the barely visible scars across her arms and thighs from jumping into adulthood alone before she was no longer a child, how she had blubbered the name Yinsen over and over again like a regret.

I don't Want the World to See Me by @outercorner

Tony has a secret, one that is harder and harder to keep from observant teammates.

WinterIron:

Lines by @treesramblings

“If you want—and feel free to say no, everyone and their mothers know that I’m the queen of offering too much where I’m not wanted—but, if you want…” Toni hesitates, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment, and then continues, “well, that’s the longest period of uninterrupted sleep I’ve had since last week, which was also with you, and—twice is a coincidence, but maybe we could test to see, uh, see if it’s a pattern? Only if you want; I’m not trying to guilt you into it. In fact, forget I said anything. This is a horrible idea. I’m just going to leave—”

She’s stopped by his fingers slipping into her palm as he's suddenly standing in front of her. “Okay,” he whispers.

The tension that had built up in her body releases all at once and she looks up into his eyes, the ever present churn of emotion swirling enchantingly, tenderly.

“Okay,” she responds, and his hand glides from hers as he turns away. She aches with the missing weight.

Watercolour Scars by ThatDamnKennedy

Despite fighting against Iron Man, Bucky didn't actually know Tony. Even then, he didn't know how he was the only one starstruck. He couldn't imagine the kind of miracles she must have pulled off before for the team to not even thank her.

Our Shattered Past by Elenduen

Bucky survives the snap, survives to see two-thirds of the universe die, half turning to ash, the others killed because those others turned to ash. He follows Steve back to America and the Avengers compound struggling to try and make sense of everything that has happened. Then Tony Stark returns to earth, broken, sick, desolate. Bucky feels he owes Tony for what he did to his parents, he wants to find a way to make amends and the only way he think to do that is to act as protection for Tony while he slowly recovers from his time in space.

Tony couldn't care less what happens to him now. He failed, Peter is gone, two-thirds of the Universe is gone, why should he care if he lives or dies now? he is determined to help others while he can though and if that means Barnes is following him around then he can help too.

What neither expect is a relationship to blossom between them or the family that blooms out of the ashes of their shattered pasts.

721 Fifth Avenue by Skarla

Tony Stark is a man of many faces; stressed, a little manic, overly fond of smoothies and kinder than anyone Bucky has ever met, although he hides it well. He's not quite sure why no one else is providing the support and companionship that the man is quietly desperate for, but it's no hardship to step up to the plate. He's always had a thing for scrappy underdogs after all.

The Evidence by @striving-artist

Didn’t notice. Right. Sure. Two brilliant minds, two super spies, and a god didn’t notice when the chattiest man they knew stopped making sound. They just seemed happier than before. Brighter and more cheerful than before. They just seemed like they were more comfortable with him around when he was stone silent.

Fuck it.

He knew they noticed.

And he knew they liked him better this way.

ShieldShock:

MARRY, FUCK, KILL by @sevensneakyfoxes

"Actually, you know, I get it. Rogers would be an excellent MARRY choice. You know that he'd never leave the toilet seat up, would never drink the last of the milk, and would clean the rain gutters without prompting," Darcy says. She's never really considered Steve as anything other than Captain America who is impossibly unapproachable; weirdly enough, the things she finds intimidating about him as a person oddly work for her in a domestic setting. "Ugh, plus you just KNOW Barton would be the type of fucker that would eat the last oreo and then shove the empty box back into the cupboard."

"So what's your list then, Darcy?" Jane asks, turning back to look at the mold, which has done exactly fuck all in the last half-hour.

"Don't rush me! I need to make an informed, calculated choice."

Darcy looks down at her pad, then back up at Natasha. She purses her lips in thought. "You've fucked Barnes, right? How dexterous is that metal hand?"

--

The ladies of SHIELD play a mass game of MARRY FUCK KILL, Avengers edition.

Wherein everyone marries Steve, kills Tony, Jane betrays science and Darcy hypothetically turns Thor into a llama.

WinterShock:

Black Holes and Revelations by @amidtheflowers

The Winter Soldier doesn’t like her much. It doesn’t help when they get thrown in a black hole together.

WinterShieldShock:

Upon A Hill, Across a Blue Lake by @i-mushi

Fluffy ABO - Darcy has a few run-ins with the police and a couple Alpha Avengers show up to help. She /really/ should have specified to Jane not to send her crushes when she called for help. Steve/Darcy/Bucky Alpha!Steve, Alpha!Bucky, Omega!Darcy

WinterWidowIronShield:

my body is not their bed by @deathsweetqueen

In 1995, the Engineer and the Winter Soldier escape HYDRA and end up, bleeding, on Peggy Carter's doorstep.

This is their journey after. This is the story of their victory march.

[weyzene]

Something More Than Physical (part 4)

Description: WayV ot7 x female reader series

Warnings: Smut, cursing, reverse harem, prostitution, angst, fluff, masturbation, voyeurism, dirty talk

Disclaimer: This story is a fictional work and in no way is intended to cause harm or defame real people and organizations. This story in no way implies that the characters here are portrayed like in real life.

Word Count: 4.27k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

It’s been about two weeks since you’ve been with WayV and you were already fucking half of them on the regular. Yangyang, Xiaojun, and Winwin had made no advancements on you, which was fine, but then you started picking up some tense vibes from Dejun and Sicheng.

At first you thought it was your imagination, but it was starting to become more obvious. You thought they were just annoyed how the other members made it obvious what you were doing with them, even making competitions to see who could give you the most orgasms, but then it started feeling a little more personal. They would never look you in the eye if you were alone with them and there was always uncomfortable silence. You were sure they had their own personal reasons and you weren’t really offended by it, but little did you know you were practically tearing the group apart as an argument about you arose between two of the members after work yesterday.

“We have to terminate our contract with her,” Winwin had urged his leader. “Can’t you see that Yangyang and Hendery have already fallen for her? If she stays longer who knows what will happen?”

Kun sighed. “I understand. But I think kicking her out would honestly be a hassle.”

“A hassle for who?” Winwin argued. “All we have to do is tell our manager that we wish to terminate the contract between us and send her back to the brothel.”

“It’s not that simple, Sicheng,” Kun protested, rubbing his temples. He had anticipated that him and Xiaojun would come to argue about you eventually, but he had slightly hoped they would have just brushed it off the longer you stayed.

“How is it not that simple,” Winwin furrowed his brows. “Wait, don’t tell me… you’ve fallen for her, too?

Kun’s eyes widened. “Hey, Dong Sicheng. Don’t make accusations like that.”

“Whatever,” Winwin rolled his eyes. “I’ve known you for several years now. I know when you’re lying and when you’re in love. The whole reason I didn’t want to get into the whole sex worker business is because I knew something like this would happen. You knew it, too, and that’s why you made a rule not to catch feelings when she started. And yet, look at you all now. At least three of you have fallen for the same girl who’s only using our bodies for money. I don’t want our group to have ruined friendships just because some girl comes between us.

“Kun-ge,” Winwin put his hands on the eldest’s shoulders and locked eyes with him. “I’m not just asking as a friend, but as a brother, please reconsider. Think about how this will affect your career and the seven of us as a whole.”

Kun and Winwin had proceeded to be tense and constantly trying avoid each other the next day and you weren’t the only one who noticed.

Lucas frowned as Winwin almost bumped into him in the hallway while he and Kun wordlessly brushed past each other with stony looks on their faces. “What’s up with them,” he nodded at Kun who stepped out of the dorm as he sat down on the couch next to you and Yangyang.

“Don’t know,” you shrugged. “They’ve been like that all morning. They must’ve fought or something.”

“(Y/n), don’t stop playing with my hair!” Yangyang pouted, his head having been laid down on your lap for a while now.

You smiled down at him. “Sorry.” You resumed running your fingers throughout his scalp as Yangyang closed his eyes again.

“Although, it is weird,” Yangyang mused. “Kun-ge and Winwin-hyung never really fight. I wonder what they could’ve been talking about to make them act like that towards each other?”

“It is strange,” Lucas agreed. “I’ve never seen them act like that before. Do you think they were fighting about (y/n)?” Lucas’s eyes suddenly fell on you and his ears turned pink. “I mean, uh… n-not that you did anything wrong, you know. I mean, I’m sure you’ve noticed that Winwin is kind of tense around you, too. Not that it’s your fault.”

“Dude,” Yangyang cut him off, opening his eyes. “You’re not helping. Besides, I seriously doubt they were fighting about her. Even though Winwin and Xiaojun were very hesitant about getting a worker, they’ve been pretty cool about it. I’m sure they’ve gotten used to it now.”

“Hey, guys,” Ten suddenly entered the room, pulling at the strings of his hoodie. “What’s going on here?”

Yangyang sat up from your lap, the blood finally getting to circulate through your legs again as you sighed in relief. “We think Kun and Winwin-hyung fought.”

“Ah, that,” Ten nodded as he took a seat at the end of the couch. “Yeah, they did.”

All eyes suddenly flickered in interest at Ten. “You know about it?!” Yangyang exclaimed.

Ten shrugged. “Yeah. Why?”

“Tell us what happened!” Yangyang and Lucas cried at the same time.

“Well, I didn’t hear them word for word but I kind of overheard them at the studio yesterday.”

The three of you stared at Ten expectantly. “That’s it?!” Yangyang exasperated when Ten didn’t continue.

“Well, yeah.” Ten shrugged. “Like I said, I didn’t hear every word they said so I just left when they stopped talking.”

“Well what did it sound like they were talking about?” Lucas pressed.

“Well,” Ten pulled at the lobe of his ear carelessly. “It sounded like they were talking about sending (y/n) back.”

Silence.

“‘Back’,” Yangyang repeated slowly. “Back where?”

Ten shrugged. “To the brothel we got her from, I guess.”

All eyes were on you, but you weren’t sure what to feel. Honestly, you shouldn’t really have cared since they were only your clients and things like that can happen. But at the same time, the more time you spent with them, the more you realized you actually liked being around them and being their roommate. On one hand, if you had to go back, you didn’t really want to. But then again, you weren’t really meant to stay with these boys forever. They were just your clients, after all.

“I doubt we will send her back, though,” Ten spoke again. “Kun wouldn’t do that. He’s too infatuated with (y/n) to let her go that easily. That’s probably why him and Winwin are being cold towards each other.”

“So Winwin wants me gone,” you piped up. The reality of it actually felt a bit more harsh than you thought it would. You knew he didn’t want to sleep with you, but wanting to actually kick you out seemed a bit cruel.

“(Y/n),” Yangyang sympathized. “We won’t let that happen.”

“Thanks…” You muttered. You knew you shouldn’t get attached to any of your clients, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like them in the slightest. You didn’t have feelings for them, of course, but thinking about your life without them felt a little disappointing.

“It’s not really our decision, though,” Ten pointed out. “Kun gets the final say in it. Whatever he says we will have to go with. Let’s just not worry about it until then.”

“How could you be so heartless?” Yangyang glared. “Don’t you care about (y/n) at all?”

“Of course I do,” Ten said. “But it’s not our decision what happens to her.”

“Ten’s right,” you agreed. “I’m only here under contract, after all. If Kun makes the decision to send me back, there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“But, (y/n),” Yangyang argued. “I- we don’t want you to go back. You don’t even like it there.”

You shrugged. “True. But what can I do?”

Yangyang frowned. “I’m gonna persuade Kun to make you finish your contract.”

“Six months is a lot, though,” Lucas spoke up. “A lot of artists don’t even make contracts for one month. Can Winwin and Xiaojun really hold out for that long?”

“Whose side are you on here, dude?” Yangyang frowned.

Lucas shrugged. “All I’m saying is we should prepare for the worst. I like (y/n), too, but Kun is also most likely to put his members before anything.”

Yangyang huffed. “I should talk to Winwin-hyung about it and try to change his mind. Trying to change Xiaojun’s mind won’t be as easy, though.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”

“Well…” Yangyang averted his eyes to his hands. “I don’t know if I should really air out his business- .”

“He just got dumped from a very serious relationship and he’s trying to heal. That’s why he didn’t want a worker in the first place,” Ten explained.

“Dude.” Yangyang gawked at Ten.

“Ah,” you mused. “I’ve oftened worked with people who hired me to get over breakups. But it doesn’t surprise me if he also wants to heal on his own.” You sighed. “It seems like I’m kind of tearing you guys apart.”

Ten shrugged. “I wouldn’t worry about it. Xiaojun doesn’t think it’s a big deal that all of us are doing you, but he also doesn’t really want anything to do with you either. At least not yet. And I’m sure Winwin will probably change his mind eventually. He’s probably just worried about the group’s well-being.”

You threw your head back and closed your eyes. Part of you really regretted the decision of signing that contract with SM. You knew that things would get messy very quickly. But another part of you was grateful that you had the opportunity to be with WayV as well as earning as much money as you were. Just one whole year with SM. That’s all you had to endure. Then all of it would be over.

When nightfall came, the boys all sat at the table over dinner. You had already finished eating and was holed up in your room before the boys as usual. There was a heavy silence and thick tension in the air as the boys picked at their meals.

“So…” Lucas started awkwardly. “Does anyone want to discuss the elephant in the room?”

“What elephant?” Hendery asked obliviously.

“I’m assuming he means the situation with (y/n).” Ten glanced between Kun and Winwin, who were sat at opposite sides of the table glaring at each other.

“There’s nothing to discuss,” Kun said bluntly.

“If there’s nothing to discuss then we should all be in agreement, then,” Winwin glared.

Hendery looked back and forth between the two. “I’m confused. Am I missing something?”

When no one said anything Ten sighed. “Winwin wants to terminate our contract with (y/n).”

“What?” Hendery dropped his chopsticks with a clatter on the table. “No, we can’t do that.”

“See, this is exactly what I was talking about.” Winwin crossed his arms. “Some of them already started catching feelings and it’s going to tear this whole group apart.”

Hendery’s cheeks blushed a light pink. “T-that’s not true. It’s just… we shouldn’t send her back…” he trailed off awkwardly.

Winwin sighed. “We can’t keep her around as long as there’s feelings involved. I’m sure Xiaojun agrees with me on this one.”

“I already told you,” Xiaojun poked at his chicken. “I don’t care what you guys do as long as you leave me out of it.”

“Why are you so against her being here?” Yangyang asked. “You also agreed to have a worker. Why do you want to send her back so badly?”

“Because now that a lot of you caught feelings, it’s going to complicate things!” Winwin snapped. “You guys are going to get jealous and distracted and it’s going to interfere with work and our personal lives.”

“No one here has caught feelings,” Yangyang retorted.

“Really?” Winwin raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Prove me wrong, then. Send her back. If you don’t have feelings for her you’d have no problem with doing it.”

Yangyang opened his mouth to reply, but quickly shut it when he couldn’t think of a comeback. Winwin sighed. “You see? I’d be fine with it if you guys had been a bit more mature about it and kept things professional, but this is going to quickly spiral out of hand the longer she stays here.”

“You don’t know that,” Kun argued.

“Don’t I?” Winwin tilted his head. “I’m sure you guys heard about the rumor of SNSD catching feelings for their worker and some of the members fought and now they refuse to work with each other.”

“It’s just a rumor,” Kun rolled his eyes. “You know how staff likes to make up stuff to spread around the company.”

“Maybe,” Winwin said. “But is it really worth the risk?”

“You know what I think,” Ten butt in. “I think you need to get laid. Honestly, I think you’re stressing about it too much.”

Winwin’s eyes widened. “How am I stressing too much about it?”

“Because you’re the only one that’s worried about it,” Ten exasperated. “You think you’re the only one who noticed Kun, Yangyang, and Hendery caught feelings? And don’t you guys try to deny it,” Ten suddenly said as the three of them started muttering protests. “None of them have let it bother with work or argued about it, so I don’t see what’s the problem.”

Winwin sighed and pushed himself away from the table. “Fine. Do what you want, but I hope you guys realize it’s a mistake keeping her here.” He threw away his hardly touched food and left the dining room, leaving an awkward silence at the table.

“So… what now?” Lucas asked finally.

Kun sighed and stood up from the table. “I need to think.” He cleared his area as well and went into his room.

There was another prolonged silence. Lucas’s gaze fell on Xiaojun. “Dejun- ,”

“Don’t look at me,” Xiaojun interrupted. “I said I didn’t care what you guys did or do as long as I’m not dragged into it.” He followed suit as the others before him and left the room, leaving four of the members looking at each other around the table.

“So…” Yangyang started awkwardly. “You have feelings for (y/n), too?” His eyes flicked over at Hendery.

Hendery sighed. “I don’t want to talk about it. It was an accident and I didn’t mean to.”

“I’m sure none of you meant to catch feelings,” Ten said, rolling his chicken on his plate with his chopsticks. “But you can’t control catching feelings for someone. The best you can do is to just control them or move on.”

“When did you start having feelings for her?” Yangyang pressed on.

Hendery slammed his chopstick down on the table. “Does it really matter?”

“It does to me,” Yangyang insisted.

“Why? What difference does it make? It’s all just one sided for the rest of us, anyway.”

“You say that, but you still continue to sleep with her,” Yangyang pointed out.

“I’m done talking about this,” Hendery abruptly stood up and left the table as well.

“Well,” Ten said after Hendery shut the door to his room. “This has been a very eventful dinner. I guess this is my cue to leave as well.” Ten cleared the rest of the table up before turning down the hallway.

Yangyang sighed and rested his head on the table. “When did this situation become such a mess?”

Lucas shrugged. “It’ll probably blow over soon. Everyone will probably forget about the fight tomorrow morning and everything will go back to the way it was.”

“Maybe,” Yangyang said, although he was still unconvinced. “I still can’t believe Hendery and Kun have feelings for (y/n). I mean, I shouldn’t be as surprised that Hendery does, but it still kind of feels… strange.”

Lucas scratched his neck. “I mean it was pretty obvious all three of you caught feelings, but I guess when you’re in love you don’t really notice when other people are, too.”

Yangyang looked up at his hyung. “Do you have feelings for her, too?”

Lucas pursed his lips. “Maybe, maybe not,” he finally said. “We may never know.”

Yangyang rolled his eyes. “I’m assuming that means you do, too.”

“Maybe,” Lucas repeated. “Don’t think about it too much, though. I’m scared you might get depressed or something.”

Yangyang sighed. “What can I do? I did this to myself, anyway.”

Lucas shrugged. “I guess it was bound to happen when we all started sleeping with the same girl. But I don’t think she really thinks of us the same way we think of her.”

“Yeah, I figured that much,” Yangyang muttered. But no matter how much Yangyang told himself his feelings were one sided, he always yearned for you to feel the same way towards him. With every gentle touch, every bright smile, every hearty laugh, Yangyang wished that the feeling was mutual.

While Yangyang and Lucas were wrapping things up at the table, you heard a knock on the door to your room. Considering the sounds you heard from the dining room, you were sure that it wasn’t someone trying to get their dick wet right now. You turned off your phone and opened the door to see Ten standing there with his hands shoved in the pockets of his hoodie. “Hey, bestie, can I come in?” He asked with a smile.

“Yeah.” You stepped aside to let Ten in and closed the door behind him. “What’s up?”

“Just… checking up on you.” Ten hopped on your bed and put his arms behind his head. “Seeing if you recovered from the orgasm I gave you earlier today.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m sure you’ve heard that Lucas has already given me three today. But anyway,” you crossed your arms and sat on the edge of your bed. “Why are you really here?”

Ten smirked. “You’re very observant. I’ve always liked that about you. Alright, I’ll cut to the chase, then.” Ten suddenly turned serious as his eyes locked with yours. “How are you feeling? About the whole situation?”

“You mean the one where there’s talk of terminating my contract,” you asked rhetorically. “Honestly, not super thrilled about it.”

Ten nodded slowly. “I’m assuming you heard the fight at the dinner table?”

You shrugged. “Not really. I mean, I could tell Winwin was really upset and argued a lot with Kun. And then I think I heard Hendery and Yangyang arguing. But I couldn’t really pick up any words.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much what happened,” Ten sighed.

“I’m really sorry about all this,” you murmured.

Ten’s eyes widened at you. “Hey, (y/n), no one is blaming you for this. You’re not at fault here. No one is. Things just kind of… happen this way.”

“Yeah, but I know you guys are really close and I just don’t want you guys to ruin your friendship because of me.”

“That won’t happen,” Ten assured you. “I’m sure Winwin’s just tense because he’s always hearing rumors the staff makes up. I’m sure once he stops stressing about it he’ll be fine.”

You sighed. “I don’t know. It sounded like Hendery and Yangyang were also mad at each other.”

“Oh,” Ten tried to think of what to say. “That’s nothing. It was just a little dispute. They’re fine.”

“You’re lying.”

Ten gave you a crooked smile. “Seems like I can never get past you.” His face turned solemn again. “Don’t worry about it, though. These things will fix themselves. It just takes time.”

“I’m the reason why everyone is arguing, though, aren’t I?”

You searched Ten’s eyes as he swallowed hard before answering. “Yes,” he admitted, and that honestly made you slightly disappointed, but not surprised. “But don’t think about it too much. Like I said, fights between the guys never last long. They’ll all sort out their thoughts and feelings eventually. You won’t even have to leave here.”

You sighed and laid your head in Ten’s lap. “It still bothers me. Whatever happened back there sounded pretty serious.”

Ten casually started to play with your hair. “You want me to help take your mind off of it,” he hummed.

You made a face. “You know, sex isn’t the solution to everything.”

“It would be for this,” he snickered. “Besides, I could go down on you and see if I can beat Lucas’s daily record of giving you three orgasms.”

You smirked. “You know, Kun still holds the all-time record of giving me five in one day.”

Ten rolled his eyes. “I don’t know how. That man is so old I’m surprised he has that kind of stamina in him.”

“You’re the same age,” you pointed out. “Besides, you’re not even hard yet.”

Ten waggled his eyebrows. “How about you make me and I’ll give you so many orgasms that we’ll both lose count.”

You smirked. “You’re on.”

During that night Winwin could not sleep. Partially because he was still thinking about the fight at dinner, but mostly because he could hear your moans all the way down the hall. It’s not like he hasn’t put up with the sounds before, but it was particularly frustrating this time after the argument at dinner.

“Fuck, Ten! Right there!”

Winwin sighed as he felt a rush of blood go down to his groin. Looked like another lonely night of jacking off to the sounds you made in bed. Lucas fell right asleep the second his head hit the pillow and Winwin was good at keeping quiet, so he knew it wouldn’t be a problem.

Winwin quietly pulled the band of his shorts down and pulled his semi-hard cock out.

“Oh, god don’t stop!”

He focused on your voice, wrapping his hand around his length and started an agonizingly slow pace up and down his shaft.

“Fuck, Ten, I’m cumming!”

Winwin bit his lip as your moans got louder and increased in frequency as he recognized in your voice that you were close. He sped his hand up a little bit, willing himself to get harder. When a high-pitched scream ripped from your throat as your orgasm washed over you, Winwin’s cock throbbed as he tried to imagine what your face looked like. How your eyes would be screwed shut, mouth gaping open as your eyebrows furrowed before relaxing. Winwin squeezed his cock harder, biting his lip as to not wake Lucas.

He continued pumping himself, listening for anymore sounds before he heard your whimpers and Ten’s groans. Winwin knew Ten had just entered you since based on the sounds he’s heard from your room the past couple of weeks, Ten loved giving you head before properly fucking you.

“Oh, god, (y/n)!” Ten groaned. “Move your hips just like that! You feel so good, baby.”

Fuck, did you really feel as good as the other members claimed? Winwin cursed himself, wishing he hadn’t been so shy so he could have had his way with you earlier. If only half of the group hadn’t caught feelings, Winwin would be all over you right now, making you moan for him instead of Ten. Just the thought frustrated him, making him beat his dick harder and making it harder to conceal with groans.

“Ten! I- ah! I’m s-so close,” your moans echoed through the dorm. “Feels so fucking good!”

“Yeah, baby,” Ten’s growl could faintly be heard. “You gonna cum already? After I just- fuck! After I just made you c-cum on my tongue? That’s it, kitten, cream master’s cock! Cum on it just like this.”

Winwin felt himself nearing his orgasm as the slapping sounds and moans from your room got louder. When he heard your euphoric squeals from your orgasm, Winwin couldn’t hold himself back any longer as he too reached his high, cum shooting up from his dick and landing on his torso and over his hands.

Winwin sighed to himself as he heard Ten chasing his own high, reaching over the nightstand for a tissue to clean himself up. He immediately felt gross about what he’d done and felt like such a hypocrite. How could he tell his friends to get rid of you when here he was jacking off to the sound of them doing you every night?

He recalled the conversation at the dinner table and what Ten has said; “I think you need to get laid. Honestly, I think you’re stressing about it too much.”

Was it really that simple? He couldn’t even fathom how Kun and Hendery still continued to fuck you even though they had caught feelings. He wasn’t sure how they were fine with having to share you. Was he really just overthinking it and jealousy wouldn’t be an issue here? But it still didn’t explain why Yangyang and Hendery had sounded tense after he left the table.

‘I think you need to get laid,’ Ten’s voice echoed in his head.

“Okay, I get it,” Winwin grumbled aloud to himself. “Maybe I have been to strung up about everything.”

Making up his mind, Winwin decided to get out of bed and make his way to your room. He barely reached the door when he bumped into Ten.

“Oh, hey.” The older boy looked surprised to see him. He looked back in the direction Winwin was walking in and then back at Winwin, his eyes narrowing. “Are you here to…”

Winwin’s ears burned a bright red. “I don’t want a word about this from you.”

Ten pursed his lips. “Alright, then.” He continued down along his way before abruptly stopping again. “Oh, by the way,” he turned back to face his dongsaeng. “Be careful. I’m not sure how many rounds are left in her tonight,” he turned away with a smirk.

Winwin rolled his eyes before walking up to the door to your room, hand raised ready to knock before he took a deep breath.

Taglist: @teapartydreams @flowerboykun @hwasatiny @multistan30 @sunnylixxx @cutebunnygirl02 @ncitylover @j4pan @pakovahayhuha @tasolee

[wyrvel]

🥺,👀,💞,🍦?

🥺Is there a certain type of moment or common interaction between your characters that never fails to put you in your feels?

I write a lot about unspoken tension and characters failing to communicate so when they decide to tear themselves wide open and expose even their most maladaptive thoughts in a need to be understood it really gets me. I think the first time I really went in on this was in the roof scene in DET (not a good fic don't read it) where Yam admitted to wanting to threaten suicide for attention vs Tsuna wanting to detonate his life and run away. Exposing your ugliest self....... uaghh......

👀 Tell me about an up and coming wip please!

I'll do 2 since I'm posting the DbtA within like 2 days

Hanazawa's stare is intense. Shigeo swallows. “So they hired you to come find me?” He slowly circles Shigeo, eyeing him up and down. “And now you know about me. That’s not fair. What’s your name?” “Kageyama Shigeo.” “Right, Kageyama. Right, right. Well, I won’t keep you.” Hanazawa places a heavy hand on Shigeo’s shoulder and leans in. “But I feel like my privacy’s been violated. You understand, right? I’d like to talk more about this.”

from Not My Blood:

Izuna has been struck many times by his father, but it’s never left a ringing quite like this. It rings when Hashirama, puffy-eyed and stony-faced, marches right past him. It rings when the floorboards creak with the strain of sprouting new growth. It rings when Hashirama throws things across the bedroom. It rings so loud he can’t hear his parents in the other room, but he can feel the vibrations of their fight under his feet like thunder. It rings when he goes to bed, staring at the ceiling until he loses consciousness. It rings, and rings, and rings, until they dig the graves, and Itama’s is among them. Hashirama does not attend the burial.

💞 Who’s your comfort character?

Izuna.........my little meowmeow..................................

🍦 What’s the sweetest fic you’ve created so far?

Part 2 and 3 of my ORV dokhyeok fic Tangible Things...ough...the fluff

[reluctant-mandalore]

A Soothing Touch (Boba Fett x gn!Reader)

Even the great and legendary bounty hunter Boba Fett needs a break. So of course you and him end up going to a spa to relax in the hot springs there alone together. Soon finding yourself sharing some soft and affectionate moments with the usually closed off bounty hunter. 

Warnings: fluff, kissing, flirting, touching (nothing to bold thou), lots of kissing, naked folk, cuddling, hot spring/spa, established relationship, not beta read. 

Word Count: 2542

Pairing: Boba Fett x gn!Reader

a/n: So I saw this art by @space-girl-and-droids-art​ and got inspired to write a fic about cuddling with Boba at the spa. We need more soft boba shbdfbsdfs Edit: Originally planned on doing smut for part 2, but I dunno if I am now. ;-; Maybe I will, maybe I wont. For now this is it. 

The spa that you two had gone to that day had been beautiful. Lovely for sure, but overly expensive as well. Though that hadn’t seemed to bother the famed bounty hunter when he had picked it out among the many which had been suggested to him.

Now standing by the edge of the private hot spring you couldn’t help but gaze at the said man currently relaxing within its warm and calming waters. His armor had been removed long before you had come to join him. His body leaning against the stony rim of the pool, as his eyes had remained firmly closed even when you had first approached.

Boba had almost looked peaceful that way. The steam in the air like a fine cloak which just barely covered his naked self from your wandering eyes. While the water he had soaked in rippled around him with each slight movement. You couldn’t help but watch as a bead of sweat had dripped down from his neck to his shoulder blade. The way that his scars traced his skin making your fingers twitch with the need to caress and soothe them.

He was beautiful like this. Sprawled out and bare for anyone to see. Though only you would be the one to have the pleasure of getting to look at him in such a way. He didn’t let his guard down around just anyone after all.

You were the exception.

“Well are you going to come join me?” The sound of his low voice had dragged you out of the trance you had found yourself in. His eyes now opened, as he stared at you with a hint of amusement hidden within his darkened depths. “Or are you just going to keep standing there gawking at me?”

You had felt your heart flutter at his words, as a shy warmth had quickly formed at the weight of them. “I… I’m coming in! Just need a moment, that's all.”

Boba had merely let out an amused hum at your stuttered reply. His body shifting a bit as he waited and watched for you to come join him within the water. There hadn’t been much emotion to his face as he did this. There never really was if you had thought long and hard about it. He had always been more of a man of action then anything else. Though his eyes had never seemed to hide what he had been feeling from you, and right now his eyes had held nothing but longing. A sight that had only made the warm feeling blossoming within yourself grow the more you had taken notice of it.

Removing the robe you had worn that day had seemed to be more difficult in your flushed state. As you had fumbled with the belt and nearly tripped into the water when placing it off to the side. Your body had moved uneasily as you did this. As you weren’t sure if you should put on a show of undressing for him or not. Though you found yourself wondering if it would be better to just focus on not falling in and not hurting yourself while walking along the slippery edge. Making a fool of yourself was probably the worst thing you could do in this type of situation.

Boba didn’t seem to mind in the slightest though. He never really seemed too. It was just how he was with you. Calm and patient; stern but kind; ruthless and yet honorable—that was the Boba Fett you had known well. It had also been the one that you had fallen so deeply in love with too.

Though regardless of how awkward you may have been with undressing, the man’s eyes could be felt on you the entire time. His heated gaze roaming over your naked form as if you were the most finest of meals. To him you were of course. You were his beautiful cyar’ika—a precious gem among the dunes so to speak—and someone he had planned to hold onto for as long as you would let him.

Settling into the water you couldn’t help but let out a pleased sound. The warmth of the spring instantly managing to relax your muscles and bring a calming cloud to your thoughts. You had stolen a quick glance to the bounty hunter then. Your breath nearly catching as your gaze had locked with his own. There had been a feeling of desire and yearning held within his eyes now. The sight of which had made you burn over with a brief and numbing passion. All while causing your own heart to thunder loudly within your chest. Although you had broken the contact quickly. Finding yourself overcome with your nerves well held under his breathtaking eyes.

Boba had always seemed to have that effect on you. It had been overbearing, but also comforting at times. Another reassurance that reminded you of how much he truly did want to keep you by his side. Even when separated by the armor or across the galaxy—he always had a way of making you feel so wanted by him.

So cherished and so loved.

“Always so shy mesh’la.” He had commented with a chuckle. The words from him making you glance back at him with a pout. Though as always he had never seemed to crumble under your soft gaze. If anything he had only felt more spurred on by the sweetness it had held. “You know I don’t bite.”

“We both know that’s not true.” You had shot back as you narrowed your gaze at him. Though he had only smirked when you had, and you in turn had sunk farther into the water from his prying eyes. The sight of which had instantly darkened his expression.

“Fine... I only bite if you want me too then.” He had said in a rather gentle, and yet still rough, voice. The amusement it had held not having been lost on you in the slightest. A soft look soon crossing his features—one which you were quickly learning was only reserved for your eyes alone—though it had disappeared before you could really focus in on it. “Come here cyare, let me hold you.”

The brief thought of denying him had crossed your mind. It could be fun to tease and taunt the man. Pushing and winding him till he would be bursting at the seams. Only to allow for a heated look to fill his gaze, as he took control to remind you of just who he was, and what he was capable of doing. The mess he could make of you within seconds was quickly becoming another talent of his lately it had seemed. And if you allowed him the pleasure of entertaining you on this day you would be sure to meet that side of him again.

Though the sight of his outstretched arms had stopped that thought process in you instantly. He looked so inviting like that—so safe and warm—as if there were nowhere better than being within his hold. The sudden need to feel yourself cradled in his embrace stomping out any teasing remarks that you could have thrown right back at him. As you had soon made your way over to where he had still relaxed on the other side of the spring.

Boba had pulled you flushed against his chest the minute you were within arms length. A pleased sound leaving him, as your naked body had rested against his own. His one arm settling around you and gripping onto you almost possessively. The feeling of his fingers firmly digging into your skin having left your heart fluttering for all that it was worth.

“My sweet cyare.” He had nuzzled his nose against you then, as the sweet praise had left him in a hushed and rugged sounding voice. His lips ghosting over your forehead to place a kiss against the skin there soon after. The feeling of it sending another shot of warmth to settle within your core. “Always so good for me. Aren’t you?”

An agreeable hum had left you at his words. Now finding yourself laying your head against his shoulder, as you had allowed your eyes to drift close. He himself had leaned back against the edge of the pool just as he had done so earlier. Though this time he had made sure to keep you closely tucked against him. The gentle rise of his chest, and calming presence only helping to soothe you farther into the warm water.

The two of you had stayed like that together for a long time. Allowing for your sores and aches to be eased away by the hot spring. As you both had stayed cuddled and relaxed against each other. At one point you had found your eyes cracking open again to glance at the man still holding you. A small smile playing on your lips as you saw how peaceful he had once again seemed while snuggled so closely with you.

Boba had his eyes shut again, and he had almost seemed to be on the verge of sleeping. If you had wanted to disturb him from his blissful relaxation you would have teased him. A comment about his aging self on the tip of your tongue, though you had decided to keep to yourself.

Well for this point in time at least.

Instead you had chosen to let him continue to enjoy himself. He did need a break after all. That was the whole reason you both had come here. Your one hand soon moving to draw lazily circles onto his bare chest. Finding yourself overjoyed with the pleased sigh he had allowed himself to make at the feeling of it.

Drawing shapes had gotten boring quickly though, and even sooner you had begun to allow your fingers to trace along the scars littered across his skin. It always amazed and saddened you with how many he had. Years of working as a bounty hunter—combined with the horrors of the sarlacc pit—had clearly done a number on him. Though he rarely spoke to you of such things. He hated pity, and hated speaking of his pain even more. Always choosing to keep most of that stuff to himself. He was never one to open his heart easily after all. Although sometimes you found yourself wishing that he would. Healing was easier together then apart you had thought so at least. Though the hunter himself seemed to have no interest in such a thing.  

The man in question had shivered more under your gentle caresses. A shuddered breath leaving him, as your fingers ran slowly along a particular scar lower on his chest. One that you had known to be quite sensitive.

His eyes had opened up after that one. Now focused on watching you, as you explored his chest with your hands. While his own tight grip still on you had only tightened. He didn’t make any move to stop you though, as for once he had just chosen to watch and lean more into your soothing hands. Another deep and pleased sigh having left him as he did.

Rarely did Boba ever like to just let himself relax like this under your gentle touch. He liked to be the one in control most times. His need to direct how things went—and fear of seeming vulnerable—usually managing to crawl itself to the surface. Today had seemed different though. Whether it be due to the calming water or your sweet caresses—the usually closed off man had allowed himself to melt into you completely. Allowing himself to open up himself—and his heart—as you had spoiled him with your soft affections.

Soon you had even begun to press light kisses along his exposed chest. A small hum leaving you at the sound of a breathy groan he had made, as you had pressed your lips to another partially sensitive spot along his collar bone. Although he still hadn’t said a word when you had pampered him in this way. Instead he had simply watched you through a lidded gaze. Refusing to miss seeing a second of everything that you did.

Boba would eventually bring an end to your trails of kisses and touches though. A displeased sound leaving you at the feeling of his other hand cupping your cheek to stop you. Though your frown had left you quickly, as soon he had brought you in for a kiss that had stolen your breath away. A small sound leaving you, as your lips had molded together with his like they were perfectly made for one another.

It had started off gentle, but like with all things with the bounty hunter, it had quickly become rough. Passionate and heated—it had almost felt as if he had been trying to devour you whole. The grip he held on your cheek and waist only becoming stronger, as he had pulled you in to deepen the kiss in between quick breaths. His lips never truly leaving yours any longer than they needed. All while you had become overwhelmed with an intense feeling of desire pooling within you again. Practically crumbling into his hold and melting into it within minutes of the kiss having started.

The need to breathe properly would eventually take him from you completely though, and soon he had leaned back just enough to rest his forehead against yours. His warm breath fanning against your equally warm cheeks, as he had kept the contact with you for another long moment. The water surrounding you both reminding you of just how warm and humid the whole place had become. His eyes now having held a gleam to them that you hadn’t seen too often. The meaning held behind their searching gaze not lost on you in the slightest, as you had found yourself sucked into their radiant depths. The love and affection that they had held only making your heart soar more at its sweetness.

This man would truly be the death of you it seemed.

“Mesh’la…” His voice had trailed off as he spoke, though he had kept his forehead pressed against your own when had. Quickly finding that he had become at a loss for words—unsure of what to say or how to say it—a rare occurrence for a man who always seemed so confident in himself. “Mesh’la I…”

“I know Boba.” You had replied just as softly in reassurance. Soothing away some of his worry while smiling brightly at him. Your one hand having moved to cup over the hand which he had still kept cradling your cheek. “I know. Me too.”

It was true. You had known it from the first time he had taken you into your arms, and from the first time you had shared a kiss with the man. Whether he could find the ability to voice it or not you had always known. Even when sitting within the warm waters of an overly expensive spa—pressed together and whispering few sweet words in between your kisses—you had known. You always did after all.

You always knew that Boba Fett had loved you like no other. 

[btsmosphere]

The Web | PJM

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

~summary: Nearly dying was just the beginning. While struggling to deal with the direction life has thrown you, you find yourself at the heart of a web of conspiracy. Maybe it will bring you back to Jimin - if you both make it out alive. Jimin x reader ~word count: 6k ~mafia au, established relationship, angst, eventual fluff?(in future parts) Rating: pg15 Warnings: mentions of death, attempted murder, violence, homelessness, swearing, breaking and entering, burglary ~a/n: it’s here!! I am super excited to show you guys this new mafia au, I worked long and hard on it! I will be updating every 7-8 days. Let the mystery begin...

The hushed rumble of breath sounds, as if from behind a curtain.

It isn’t clear enough for you to hear its source, but it’s all you can hear. Curiously, you can hear more than you can see. Your eyes must be closed.

It takes your groggy mind until about five times to come to this realisation before it does something about it. Your eyelids feel rusty as you heave them apart.

A pinprick, somewhere ahead. But it isn’t light. In fact, the pinprick you can see is barely brighter than the darkness encompassing you. Squinting, you think it might be blue.

It’s getting closer.

Vision rushes to you then, slams into you all at once like a train, stealing your air as it punches through you, throwing your senses at you full-force and suddenly you can’t ignore the burning in your throat, the stinging of your skin, the bite of the hard ground against your side. And the breathing.

It’s yours.

You’re breathing.

For a moment, you sort of wish you weren’t, with the way it hitches in your flaming throat like a dagger. You can’t do much but cough, wincing at each weak burst.

As the initial shock of pain flares down, you notice there is a strange taste in your mouth. Much like your other concerns, you can’t muster the strength to address it. Instead, you let your shivering form cling to the stony ground.

A particularly strong shiver wracked your spine as an icy drop of water slid from your hair, carving a chilling path across your skin.

It occurred to you that you could call for help. Almost instantly, you killed the thought, biting your lip even though you probably had no voice to speak if you tried.

Just as your eyelids were drooping again, another thought struck you.

And now they were wide open.

What if somebody had already seen you?

You had no idea where you were. Pulling your head off the ground was like tearing two magnets from each other, but you stubbornly kept it up, waiting for the world to fall into place before your squinting eyes.

When it finally did, only a bare stretch of path was revealed to you. The river glistened black beside it, water deceptively still within its banks.

No one was around, the only sign of life some distance away on the bridge where buses trundled beneath the suspended glow of streetlights.

Given it was night, no one seemed to be anywhere near you, and no one from the bridge could possibly see this far thanks to the darkness. And though the night was cold, it was at least good cover for you as you dragged your body to stand.

Ignoring the protest of your muscles, your feet stuttered forwards.

You had to get out of sight.

Even in this state, you knew that. If bangtan wanted you dead, they would get their way – something you knew better than most. The fact you were still walking was a miracle. So, even though you were in pain, you knew this was something you had to cherish.

You almost weren’t so lucky.

Finally reaching the base of the bridge, the deep shadow underneath it looked tempting. But you couldn’t stop here. Now you were up, you should keep moving.

The patter of your feet on the damp ground bounced from the concrete pillars as you passed underneath the bridge. Clutching your arms tighter around yourself, you assessed the street on the other side before emerging.

Though you had already established it as empty, you couldn’t help your eyes darting around you as you hurried to the next corner.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew these roads. Even so, it took you longer than you hoped to reach the spot you aimed for, just beside the launderette on the corner a kebab van usually resided in. By the time you arrived, you were limping slightly.

Finally approaching your destination, a clothing donation bin, you leaned against it to hobble around the side where the door was.

There was no streetlamp here, so you let your fingers feel their way to the lock. Still numb from the water, it took you several tries, going over and over the frigid metal, but at last you located it.

You were sure you had a hairpin somewhere. Though soaked and tangled into the ponytail it was in, your hair shed one after enough prodding, allowing you to pick the lock.

Once more, you weren’t up to your usual standard, slipping and fumbling and starting over more times than you could count. The click of the simple padlock opening only came when you were already slumping against the brickwork.

Shifting your weight forward to kneel, you cringed at the screech of the metal bolt scraping open.

This bin was rarely used, and even more seldom emptied, so you had a reasonable chance. Groping around inside, you found it barely half full, but you weren’t fussy. Scooping at the first piece of fabric you found, you brought the raggedy shirt to your face, scrubbing it dry before making a hopeless attempt on your hair.

Eventually, you had peeled off your jeans, squirmed from your sodden top and thrown both over the top of the bin. Maybe they would dry.

In this cold, you were sceptical.

The hoodie you had managed to find was ripped at the shoulder and very thin, but it was something. There had been a t shirt too, though it was considerably larger than the hoodie and stuck out from the bottom. Tracksuit bottoms finished off what you were sure was a killer outfit, but there had been no shoes. Or even socks.

Sliding down the wall, your thoughts turned longingly to your trainers lying at the bottom of the river.

You had moved to a tiny path that ran between the rows of buildings. If possible, it was even darker here. It would be so easy to just fall asleep…

Squeezing your eyes, you hunched your shoulders further and shook off the thought. Like you had concluded earlier, being alive was something to cherish. You weren’t about to blow it by falling asleep with a concussion.

Of course, you might not have a concussion.

Of course, that was just wishful thinking.

No nausea so far, just a headache, which was promising, but Kwangsu had knocked you out earlier. And if that wasn’t a sure-fire way to injure someone, you didn’t know what was.

It had taken everything in you not to draw his attention when you woke up in the back of his car. You had done a lot of waking up today, you mused. And you didn’t know which was worse.

In the car, you had been certain you were about to die. On the riverbank, you found out that you weren’t, in fact, dead, but god did it hurt. And you were still cold.

Rubbing your hands together, you breathed over them in a futile attempt at becoming your own heater. Giving up, you shoved one under your armpit while running the other over your face and neck.

The base of your collar was tender, probably bruising. That would be where he had pinned you against the wall as you gasped for air, before his arm had raised and-

Ah, yes. There was the lump that must have been from the knockout blow. However, he had got in a good few punches before that, evident in the grazing along your cheekbone.

Finding nothing else more significant than your split lip, you resigned your hand to your unoccupied armpit with a sigh.

Staying awake was difficult. And not just because of the moments you would catch your head falling to your chest, jolting back only to have the action repeat moments later.

No, it was worse in the moments your mind became occupied, not tempted by sleep.

Because all your pounding head could think of was Jimin.

All you could see was his smile, the one that creased his eyes as he looked at you, full of wonder in the early light. Your fingers moved without your willing them, dreaming of running themselves through his hair.

Out here in the cold, floor and brick hard against you, the bed you shared with him seemed like a distant dream. If you closed your eyes, you could will yourself to feel the familiar shape of him wrapping around you, holding you safe in his arms.

But it was never quite enough.

Your eyes would open and your breath would cloud again in the chilled air, nothing but heavy mist circling your form.

Anything would be better than this. With no idea of where you could go from here, what you should do, all that was left to occupy your mind was increasing bitterness.

You had considered bangtan your family. It was evident to you now they never felt the same. There was no way they could sentence you to die if they cared about you in the slightest.

If only you had run faster, they would see you were right about Kwangsu. Though it was probably a matter of hours, it felt like a lifetime ago when you had found him with those plans in his hand, proof they never should have trusted him.

He was going to rob them blind.

Well, they were already blind, you supposed. Blind to how he was tricking them, refusing to listen to your calls for them to see sense.

With sudden clarity, you realised that was the last thing you had said to Jimin. The last time you two would ever speak, and you had said – what was it? – ‘I know it.’

‘He’s not trustworthy. I know it.’

Why didn’t he listen?

Struggling to hold in a sob, you buried your face in your hands.

All your thinking, about how you had lost everything you loved, and you would never get to say goodbye, seemed stupid. They were the ones that wanted you dead, why should they care about saying goodbye to you?

Even Jimin, who you knew so well, who you loved, hadn’t acted any differently.

How long had he known you were going to die?

The first indication that you had fallen asleep was being woken up.

Shit, you hadn’t meant to fall asleep. At least you were still alive…

Hold on.

Your terror at falling asleep was renewed as you noticed you were being woken up by a person. Someone had found you.

Jerking upright, you tried to scramble back only to be greeted with a wall already at your back.

“Hey, hey,” the woman cooed at the sight of your wide-eyed stare, “are you okay? It’s bloody cold out here, you’re lucky you didn’t freeze overnight!”

“Uh-um, yeah, I-“ you stumbled over words, voice hoarse.

“Do you want to come in?” she asked next, warm smile on her face, “I own the launderette.”

Though you made no reply, you took her outstretched hand and allowed yourself to be pulled from the ground, much to the dismay of your muscles. If she noticed your hiss of pain, she made no mention of it. A purse-lipped look of concern crossed her face, but she turned to lead you inside.

“I’m Mindy, by the way,” she spoke.

As you followed her through the back door, you were met with a heavenly blast of a heater at the threshold. From the quiet clanking sounds inside, you guessed only one or two people were using the machines at the moment, but still the smell of detergent filled your nose.

Standing hesitantly in the doorway, you watched as Mindy pulled up a chair with an encouraging smile.

First, you glanced to the side. The door separating the little back room from the main shop had a slim window at the side, but you couldn’t see anyone through it.

Unable to resist longer, you stepped further into the warm and gratefully sank into the chair. Only a cheap plastic thing that didn’t sit flat, it nonetheless felt like luxury compared to the concrete outside.

Mindy bustled away, muttering something about tea.

It was as you sat there, accompanied by the faint sounds of washing machines, that your hands began to tingle. Overnight, you had gone too numb to notice how cold you were anymore. Being coated in river water certainly made things worse. You were ashamed to admit that by the time Mindy returned with a steaming mug and a plate of toast, your eyes were once again drooping.

“Are you sure you’re alright there?” she questioned, setting them down on a rickety table beside you.

You simply nodded mutely. She did not move away, so you reached for the toast and began to eat with her watching.

“What did you say your name was?”

It was asked with a smile, but still gave you pause. Taking your time with swallowing down your toast, you said the first thing that came to mind in your panic.

“Echo.”

Perhaps not your brightest moment. While not your real name, using one of your bangtan aliases was hardly better, given the few people who knew it wanted your head.

“Well, it’s good to meet you, Echo,” she said, “do you mind me asking what you’re doing out here all alone?”

Okay, this was getting too much. Maybe she was just friendly, but with the position you were in, you couldn’t afford to give people the benefit of the doubt.

Rapidly swallowing more toast, you stayed silent until she eventually spoke up again.

“…is there someone I can call for you?”

You shook your head.

“Parents? Siblings?”

Once again, negative.

“A Boyfriend? O-or girlfriend?”

Your head stilled.

Picking up on this, she pushed on.

“There is? They’ll be worried about you, you know.”

“They won’t,” you muttered, pushing down the twinge in your chest.

“Are you sure, love?” she went on.

A nod.

“Don’t they love you?”

A shrug.

“Don’t you love them? Want them to know you’re okay?”

Lip now trembling, you bit down on it.

“Oh, honey, come on now-“

Before you knew it, warm arms were around you, and you didn’t even care to protest, tears finally escaping your eyes, shoulders shaking. Despite the suspicion, the paranoia, that somehow you would be found by the wrong people, you couldn’t bring yourself to object as she held you.

Until your breathing had caught up with itself once more, you focussed on her hand rubbing up and down your back.

You were almost resentful when she let you go.

“Want to tell me about them?”

Met with hesitation, she prompted you further.

“Are they pretty?”

It felt so wrong, but you couldn’t help the small smile coming to your face.

“So pretty,” you told her.

“And they treat you right?”

Your sad sigh must have escaped her notice. Choosing for the moment to avoid the truth, you let yourself indulge.

“Yes. He always keeps me safe, makes me happy…”

“Then let me call him for you?”

Her words popped straight through your bubble of fantasy.

“I can’t.”

Stubbornly avoiding her frown, you made a start on your tea just as a bell rang from behind the door. The small cup was drained soon after Mindy rushed off to her customers, leaving you alone again.

Absently, you rubbed your hands together. The feeling had returned to your fingers, and with food, albeit a small amount, in your stomach, you itched to get moving.

Taking a glance outside, then back to the door Mindy currently stood behind, you decided to take your chances. Anyone could be on the other side of that door. Of course, the first face that flashed across your mind was the one that had snarled at you as he hauled your body from the car, over the railings…

That could have been the last face you ever saw, and you had no intention of seeing it ever again.

But it could be Jimin instead. You didn’t know what you would do then. Berating yourself for letting him invade your thoughts again, you knew it was better not to risk it at all.

The empty plate and mug lying beside you made guilt sit on your chest, but you pushed yourself up regardless.

Then you were out of the door.

And wow, it was cold. How on earth had you managed to spend the night out here?

At the corner of the street, you grabbed your old clothes (still soaking wet, as predicted) and shoved them roughly into the bin you had stolen from last night.

It didn’t take you long to get your feet going under you, fatigue still weighing you down, but you didn’t slow down until you were back on the other side of the bridge. Keeping your wits about you, you constantly glanced around, dodging away from any cameras. In this area, they were few, scattered at street corners, but it paid to be cautious.

The area you found yourself in now was far more familiar. Soon, you came to a stop under a broken fire escape, quickly discovering you had been too hasty to start running.

Grasping at the brickwork, your body wracked with coughs, each hack giving strength to the headache that haunted you again.

When they finally died away, allowing air to enter your body once again, you slumped, leaning heavily against the wall. Giving in to your body’s cries, you flipped yourself around and slid down the wall until you hit the ground.

This was certainly not what you were used to. Years of running around with bangtan didn’t exactly prepare you for going slow, but that was what your body needed right now.

You suppose that’s what getting beaten up and thrown off a bridge will do for you.

And with no more idea of where you could go from here, you decided that perhaps it would be best to give in.

Behind the takeaway store, weeds pushed up between the cracks. Even they were wilted, collapsing wearily on the tiny patch of asphalt just like you.

You had discovered this place, and it was the best you could get at the moment. There was a vent at the back of the shop from the kitchens which pumped out warm air well into the evening. It was secluded, even with a slight overhang on the roof that might shelter you if it were to rain.

But you knew you couldn’t stay here.

It had been a couple of nights, and you suspected it was probably the weekend if the drunken parties of students teetering past were anything to go by. The benefit of this was that you had managed to score a couple of free meals; you were surprised at the number of people who dropped their still-full boxes of takeout on the floor.

Today, however, your luck seemed to have passed.

Even the sky knew it was Monday, blooming with grey overhead. You felt there should be some way to make it final, but with nothing to take with you, all you had to do was stand up and leave.

The last of the day’s light was barely lingering as you made your way through the city. Head down, hands in pockets, you stayed close to the edge of the path, tracing these routes by memory.

While your body healed a little, you had had time to formulate a plan. It wasn’t a very solid one, but hopefully it would keep you alive. What with the intimate knowledge you had of bangtan, you knew if they got wind of you, they would want you gone in a heartbeat.

So you had to make sure they never found out you were alive.

You weren’t a stranger to sneaking around, so you fancied your chances at stowing away on a train, or something, until you were far away. Then you could simply… move on.

Who were you kidding, it would never be that simple.

You would never be able to forget Jimin, or any of them. Sighing sharply, you determinedly carved your path still, reminding yourself of the danger they would perceive in you.

Not many people in this world had ever seen their prized possession. Le déluge, it was called. A painting. Passed down the Kim line for generations, it was the group’s insurance, in a sense.

While its name was whispered, carried on the lips of the criminal circle in the city, not many knew just why it was so treasured. Although it admittedly was a beautiful artwork, two lovers entwining hands beneath a sheet of falling water, it was said to contain a secret weapon.

Even you hadn’t been shown precisely where, but within the frame was hidden a set of locations. The places bangtan could run to should everything go up in flames, the places they could crawl back from and build their empire once again.

Bangtan never died, you see.

And that knowledge alone would cost you your life, let alone the fact you knew the core members personally, knew their passions, their fears…

Still your footsteps fell, carrying you forwards.

It was hard to pull your mind back to the task at hand when you had done nothing but daydream for what seemed like nights on end. Food had to be your first stop. You were seriously missing the impromptu meals Seokjin would plonk down on your desk, even in the middle of the night, when he was worried about you.

Then, you would need clothes. Proper clothes.

Again, this shouldn’t be a problem, you had shoplifted before; it would be the least of your crimes.

Grasping the backpack you had fished from the trash, you thumbed over the material as you walked around the store, filling it up as quickly and surreptitiously as you could. As you wondered over to the staff door, your heart clenched tight in your chest, holding its breath with you until you were safely outside.

Now, clothes. Your fingers danced with the hairpin in your pocket as you circled the backs of shops. Each one seemed to have code locks, alarms, bars on the doors. With good reason, you had to admit, considering you were currently looking to rob one.

Frustrated, you continued your search. Back with bangtan, it would have been no problem to bust into any of these places. But armed only with a hairpin, you couldn’t afford to take the chance. It wasn’t worth the risk of being found.

Forced to backtrack, you were aware you were getting further from the station, but it wasn’t as if you had a schedule to stick to.

Turning yet another corner, a realisation suddenly struck you. Beneath you, your feet slowed, giving your mind time to decide if you should stop. But this might be your only chance…

Darting down a thin, unlit alley, you eyed the side door of your target. Bangtan owned this shop, but they didn’t care about the business. It wasn’t a place they worried about, being far from their main strongholds and firmly within the territory of your allies, the red clan.

Their allies, you scolded yourself. Any ally of bangtan was no longer a friend to you.

But either way, you knew the way in, and it was likely to be unguarded. Providing the locks were still the same.

Looking over your shoulder as you worked, you were surprised when the lock sprung open in your hands. Relief easing the tense set of your shoulders, you slipped inside, familiar smell of new clothes meeting you.

Not turning the light on, you relied on the faint glow of the streetlamps outside to make your way around, yanking a few unsuspecting items off their hangers and scooping up a pair of shoes.

But just as you stuffed them into your bag, the screech of tyres outside made you freeze.

Holding still, you waited to hear the rumble of the engine die away.

It never came.

Instead, the sound only got louder, crunch of asphalt sounding clearly in your ears as the vehicle stopped. Right. Outside.

And then footsteps were falling heavily on the pavement, pounding closer, tracking their way to the side of the shop. You had reacted before the second set of steps even hit the ground, sprinting between clothing stands to the back of the shop and throwing yourself into one of the fitting rooms before bolting it in one motion.

There was a window in here, easy for you to hop out of – if only the footsteps weren’t already inside the building.

Hearing the door burst open, you barely dared breathe, all your movements now restrained. Your hand, reaching slowly up to the window latch, could easily have been suspended in mid-air with the painstaking pace it crawled at.

“Who’s there?”

Heart stuttering, you closed your eyes, forcing your breath out, smoothly, silently.

It was Jimin.

He was right there, only separated from you by the inches of wood in this door. Like this, you could imagine that perhaps he was looking for you, but in reality, he must be circling the shop floor like the killer he was, gun drawn and ready to fire.

Fingers finally landing on the latch, you eased the window open.

Before, you might have been concerned that it wasn’t locked, but right now it was your ticket to safety.

“Check round there,” you heard his voice again, that low tone he used when he was in command.

Grimacing, you forced yourself to keep pushing, letting the window open bit by bit.

Finally at full stretch, you let out a breath. And then, footsteps again. Closer and closer they fell, your heartbeat punching harder with each step as you hoisted yourself to sit slowly on the window ledge.

“Come out from there!”

At the bark, your hand nearly slipped from the sill. Jimin had never used that tone with you.

Of course, he didn’t know it was you. And if he did-

Maybe he would look at you and smile, just one more time. What you wouldn’t give to see that again. If only you had stared at him while you had the chance, memorised every pore, every hair, if only you knew that would be the last time…

Jimin may be a killer, but you couldn’t imagine him killing you.

Kwangsu’s face flashed in your memory then, an ugly reminder of the truth.

Maybe Jimin wouldn’t kill you. No, he would send someone else to do the job.

You leapt down from the window.

The moment your feet hit the hard ground, however, a shout came from behind you. Once again, your brain had no time to kick in before your heart screamed run, already fuelling your feet as they leapt into action.

More of those heavy footfalls were filling the air now, directly behind you. As you threw your body forwards, pushing desperately further away from them, you tugged your hood over your head, blocking off all view except the road immediately ahead as it disappeared under you.

How many of them were there?

At the last moment, you saw an opening you were about to pass and hurled yourself through the gap, not slowing as you found yourself in a much smaller alley. Reaching the end, your lungs burned, but the shouts and steps of your pursuers were relentless.

Panting heavily by now, you refused to slow your pace, instead relying on twists and turns down narrow backstreets you would probably recognise if you had the time to look at them.

Lurching left, then right, the thumping of your feet faltered for the first time as you spilled out onto the main street lined with shops.

Whipping your head both ways, you stumbled back, out of the streetlight but closer to the impending footsteps, just around the corner-

Just as you were prepared to launch yourself back into motion, something trapped your wrist. Sharply tugging, it yanked you backwards before so much as a yelp could leave your terrified lips. When a sound did leave you, it never met the air, blocked by a rough hand over your mouth that refused to budge even when you attempted to pull away from it.

A moment later, the lights of the road disappeared from your sight as a door swung shut. You only thrashed harder.

“Shut up will you, I’m not one of them,” a voice hissed in your ear.

Though you still struggled, now you were still your sprint was catching up with you and your movements grew weaker, body finally taking its chance to regain enough air.

Quickly, though, the thunder of footsteps grew louder and louder, only drowned out by the blood in your ears. They were right on top of you. Freezing in the arms of your assailant, you felt them hold their breath too.

While you held still, your fearful eyes had a chance to roam the space you found yourself in. The walls were stained dark, dust and junk covering the floor, though you could barely make it out as the windows in this place – well, simply didn’t exist.

Cheap wood was nailed across them, boarding it up. The footsteps outside had scattered, echoing like bullets against the wooden planks in the silence.

Faintly, a voice carried to you.

You could barely hear it, though it said something about ‘lost them’. It wasn’t happy.

But that wasn’t why you slid your eyes closed, trapping your lip with your teeth. Like you needed another reminder of what you had left behind, Jimin had to be the one here right now, ordering the troops.

Straining your ears, you knew you weren’t safe yet. They hadn’t gone.

Accepting your fate for the moment, you remained compliant with whoever had grabbed you. You were just thankful you were away from their sight, out of danger. For now. But your most recent attacker clearly wasn’t keen on handing you to bangtan, and they were your biggest enemy right now.

Although, it was strange… in all your time with bangtan, you had only visited that shop once or twice, and then it was only for minor deals. It was almost never guarded, being in friendly territory.

Perhaps they were expecting you?

At the thought, your throat closed, heat spreading from your neck. What if they knew you were still alive? Why else would Jimin, a member of the inner circle, much too important to be concerned with a little shop, be in charge of defending it?

With your thoughts racing inside you, it took you a moment to realise that silence now reigned.

Your resumed struggle met no resistance, and you tore your face away from their hand, throwing them off you. As you whipped around to face them, your breath came out in bursts though you had long caught your breath from running.

A girl with mousy hair stood in front of you, arms folded tightly.

“Who are you?” you shot.

“I’d like to ask you that,” she returned.

Returning her narrow-eyed stare with your own level gaze, you caused her to roll her eyes. Her foot began to tap.

“Well? What’s your name?”

You swallowed.

“Echo,” you bit out.

“What’ve you got there?”

She nodded towards the bag hanging off your shoulder. Guiltily glancing towards it, you clutched at the strap protectively.

“Just food. Some clothes.”

“Give it here, then.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Give it.”

No words presenting themselves, you frowned at the girl, but she wasted no time. Marching up to you, she plucked it from your shocked hands, dodging your attempts to grab it back. All that running had taken more of a toll than you realised – you may be a lot better than you had been a few days ago, but there was still a way to go.

“What are you-“ you spluttered as she cast the clothes you had just picked up onto the floor.

Bending down to scoop them up, you patted cascades of dust off them as the girl turned the shoes over in her hands.

“These are nice,” she mused.

Then, before you knew it, she was kicking off her own shoes and slipping on your stolen goods. Gaping, you simply stared at her in outrage.

“But-“

“You can have my old ones,” she gestured carelessly, already rummaging through the food at the bottom of the bag.

“Excuse me?” you asked, incredulous.

“Did I not just save your skin from that lot outside?” she questioned in return.

Huffing, you closed your mouth, reaching for the tattered sneakers she had abandoned.

“You can have these,” she decided next, tossing the bag back at your feet.

Her eyes remained on you as she ripped open the packet of jellies she had picked. Midway through her first bite, as you were stuffing your things back inside the bag, she spoke again.

“I’m Sorrell, by the way.”

“O-okay,” you said.

“You’re not from round here, are you?”

“Uh-“ though the truth nearly spilled from your lips, you soon corrected it, “n-no. I’m not.”

“Shows,” she chuckled, munching on the next snack.

“Uh, yeah, um,” you frowned, trying hard not to be offended, “why were there… those people…”

“You went in the shop, didn’t you? Clothes place down the road.”

“Yeah…”

“Yeah, so you’re crazy,” she laughed drily, “bangtan own that place. Heard of them?”

“Uh, yeah,” you nodded, “but why – I mean, it’s just a shop.”

Sorrel’s hand paused between her mouth and the sweet packet. The stare she fixed you with made you wonder just what you were missing. Her eyebrows had climbed halfway up her forehead as she regarded you with half amusement.

“Where have you been?” she shook her head, “bangtan have been all over, because this-“ she stepped forward, gesturing around her, “-is red clan territory.”

Popping another jelly in her mouth, she seemed to think that had cleared it all up. Still, you stood, staring at her blankly. When she caught your eye again, another eye roll was directed at you.

“You’re not going to tell me you don’t know who the red clan are.”

“No,” you shook your head, “but I don’t understand… aren’t they, well aren’t bangtan-“

“They were friendly,” she sighed, “but like I said, you must have been under a rock the last few days. It’s over now, they’re at war.”

Though she threw the statement casually away, your eyes widen in an instant. At war?

“What happened?”

“How should I know?” she shrugged, “I’m just trying to stay out of the way. And so should you.”

Breathing deeply, you nodded absently.

“And you should put on those clothes you nicked, too,” she added soon after, “you look like shit. Then we need to move.”

“Thanks,” you said, dripping sarcasm. Then, “sorry, what do you mean ‘we need to move’?”

“You clearly can’t last on your own around here. Unless you’re planning on running off anytime soon, I can take you with me. Show you where I sleep… stop you getting yourself killed, you know.”

“Right,” you nodded, “okay then.”

Hidden around the corner as Sorrell stood with her back turned, you slipped on the jeans, your options laid before you. Not long ago, you had every intention of getting on a train and never looking back… but something was going on. How was it that bangtan’s closest ally had become their enemy the moment you left the picture?

So, though you had no plan, you found yourself agreeing to go with Sorrell.

Maybe you could never just leave Jimin behind…

next>>

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[zoeykallus]

Arcane – Little Flower Part 14 - Backlash

Silco x female!reader

Warnings: Angst/Cursing/Mentions Of Violence/ Mentions Of Fear Of Death/ Helpless Situation/ Some Threats

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Author's Comment: This is a good bit angsty. But don't worry, it'll get worse in the next chapter. Yes, I said worse.

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What Happened Before:

Little Flower (Smut 18+)

Little Flower Part 2 - Safe And Sound (Fluff/ Slightly Suggestive)

Little Flower Part 3 - Cupidos (Smut 18+)

Little Flower part 4 - Before You Killed Me (Violence 18+)

Little Flower Part 5 - Carried By Our Desolation (Smut 18+)

Little Flower Part 6 - The Morning After (Smut 18+)

Little Flower Part 7 - Love And War (Smut 18+)

Little Flower Part 8 - Who We Really Are (Smut 18+)

Little flower Part 9 - What We Deserve

Little Flower Part 10 - Liar (Hurt)

LittleFlower Part 11 - Curiosity Killed The Cat (Smut 18+)

Little Flower Part 12 - Blood Bath (18+ Violence)

Little Flower Part 13 - Aftermath (18+ Smut)

Part 14 - Backlash

You had seen an enforcer before, but only from a safe distance, back then it had seemed so impressive and scary. This Marcus, however, seemed more like a wannabe, he was arrogant and at the same time you could see how uncomfortable he felt in Silco's presence and his gaze kept wandering nervously to Sevika, who was sitting next to you on the sofa.

Marcus' eyes fell on you every now and then while he was talking to Silco, but you noticed that only incidentally, since you had a book in your hand in which you were more or less reading.

He said, "I understand why Sevika is here, but this is a private meeting, why is she here?"

When you looked up questioningly, you saw that he was pointing at you.

"You better put your finger down if you want to keep it," Silco growled "She's here because I trust her unconditionally."

Marcus put down the hand pointing at you with a grim expression and said sternly "That may be, but that doesn't mean I have to trust her".

Uncertainly you gave Silco a questioning look, wanting to know if you should back off, but he shook his head barely noticeable.

"She's staying here. I want to keep an eye on her."

Marcus looked searchingly at his conversational partner.

"Why? I thought you trusted her?"

Silco sighed "Yes, I do, but I don't trust the people she might come in contact with in my absence"

The Enforcer seemed to think for a moment, then leaned back in his chair, crossed his legs, and finally asked snarling, "What was that disaster with the Firelights? Even in Piltover they talk about how Silco and his henchmen rip children's gangs to shreds"

He ran two fingers over his upper lip beard as if to tidy it.

"Why do you care?" Silco asked a counter question.

"Because it's making waves and could jeopardize our plans. If word gets out that you're slaughtering kids, it won't go over well anywhere. Neither with the authorities nor with the civilian population. Mere fear will not keep you in power," Marcus explained with a stony face.

Silco sighed.

"An exampel had to be made. It will be enough. Massacres like this are not commonplace, it was.... an exceptional situation. Let me worry about the backlash"

Marcus' gaze briefly shifted to you again. This time you had listened, after all this was more or less about you.

"I heard it was about a woman, someone you care about was kidnapped by the Firlights. I suppose it's the one you trust so unconditionally?"

You remained calm, trying not to let his words make you nervous. You didn't like the thought that so many people seemed to know about you and Silco.

Silco leaned forward, calmly took a cigar from the box on his table and said quietly but with a vibrant, warning undertone, "The details don't matter and shouldn't interest you."

Marcus sighed, there were a lot of sharp words on the tip of his tongue, but he knew how stubborn Silco could be and also how dangerous. It was better to adapt and let the matter rest for the time being, he knew that.

The conversation turned back to business and you picked up the book again. However, you couldn't concentrate, you must have read the same sentence ten times as you closed the book and looked at Sevika with a soft sigh. She shrugged her shoulders as if to say, I know, I'm bored too. But she had to be here, for security reasons, and Silco had insisted that you not go anywhere outside the office without him or Sevika, at least for the time being.

Later, as Marcus was about to leave, Silco walked him to the door. Something you had never seen before, usually Silco didn't get up to say goodbye to a visitor. You saw him grab Marcus' arm at the door and pull him a little closer. You couldn't hear what he was saying, but the scene seemed tense.

"Don't even think about it," Silco spoke softly but authoritatively.

Marcus tilted his head to the side questioningly.

"Excuse me?"

Silco briefly gestured in your direction with a nod of his head.

"Trying to use her for leverage. I know it flashed through your mind when you realized how important she is to me. But I'll give you some well-meaning advice- don't even think about it. If anything happens to her, or if I hear that you're planning something like this, I'll get your entire family and anyone else you care about and pump them so full of Shimmer that they'll never recover."

The enforcer stared at Silco. Yes he had actually thought of that, of course. What was the best way to gain an advantage over Silco, a man without scruples who would stop at nothing? By taking something that really meant a lot to him.

Marcus blinked, but before he could really think about an answer Silco spoke: "Think about your daughter, I'll get her first".

The enforcer bit his tongue, swallowing the sharp comment that wanted to cross his lips. He knew Silco didn't make empty threats.

"I wouldn't stoop to anything like that," he finally said stiffly, yanking his arm free and leaving the office.

As Silco closed the door behind him and turned around, he saw Sevika and you both staring at him critically and questioningly.

"What was that all about?" you asked directly, something you didn't normally do, you didn't usually interfere, but you had a strange gut feeling.

"Business", he replied simply "Don't look at me like that, everything is fine".

"Didn't look like it," Sevika grumbled.

"Yep," you confirmed her statement dryly.

Silco sighed.

"Since when do you two actually team up against me?" he asked more or less amused and cocked an eyebrow at the two of you.

Before you could respond, however, the office door flew open. You all jumped to your feet in startlement, but it was Jinx who came strutting into the room, a big grin on her face.

"Everyone here? Nice," she said, her gaze wandering over each of the people present, as if checking to make sure everyone was unharmed.

Finally, she turned to Silco.

"Saw the Enforcer enter and leave the bar. Any trouble?" she wanted to know.

Silco shook his head, "No, not really."

She crossed her arms in front of her chest and glared at him, obviously annoyed.

"But there was trouble and you didn't tell me about it. Then afterwards I have to find out that Y/N was kidnapped by the firelights and you made a massacre without me!"

Silco sighed and gritted his teeth. He should have been expecting this, but he hadn't.

"Jinx, I had things under control-"

"No you didn't, she was gone, kidnapped, despite the ogre as chaperone," she growled pointing at Sevika whose eyes narrowed critically "and you didn't tell me a word, I could have helped! Even now after it's over you haven't said anything!"

Silco who usually always had an answer ready, looked over at you, helplessly for a moment, he knew no answer he gave her now would satisfy the girl.

"Y/N I don't blame you.“ she said pointing at you, then she pressed a thinger on Silco's chest, saying, „You've probably kept her locked up here since she got back, knowing you. It bugs you that you couldn't keep her from getting kidnapped so you don't let her out of your sight anymore"

Jinx looked in your direction.

"Isn't that right?"

"... well, I guess so" you said uncertainly, you had no interest in angering either her nor him. It didn't matter which of the two you angered, in an angry state they were both like powder kegs, only Silco's keg had a longer fuse.

Jinx looked at Silco again.

"So, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"Do you want to hear the truth?" he asked gently, taking the hand with the Figner pressed against his chest in his.

"Yes, of course I do!" rumbled Jinx as if it were a matter of course.

He sighed, "I didn't think about it. I was upset and angry and just wanted her back, so I acted. But even if I had thought about informing you, I wouldn't have done it."

"Why not?", Jinx wanted to know, pouting.

"Because you would have rushed off and put yourself in danger to save Y/N. But that's my job and you're my daughter. I have to protect you both, sometimes from yourselves"

Your brows moved up at the last words, but you remained silent rather than start a discussion.

Jinx was thinking about his answer, really not satisfied with it, but some of her anger had faded.

Tumultuous noises from downstairs in the bar, made you all sit up and take notice. Bar brawls were not uncommon here, but this somehow sounded different, more serious. With a nod in Sevika's direction, Silco murmured, "Go see what's going on."

Sevika jumped up and complied with the request. Silco stepped hurriedly towards you, pulled you up from the sofa and put Jinx hand in yours.

Shots were heard, more clattering noises, a few screams. You suspected bad things were coming. Maybe Silco's sins against the Firelights' kids had caught up with him.

"I want you two to lock yourselves in the bedroom," he said sternly.

"What, no! I want to help!" protested Jinx.

Your eyes went wide and your gaze twitched back and forth between the two of them and the office door. Fear slowly crept into your bones, wormed its way under your skin and settled like a heavy stone on your chest, making it hard to breathe. His serious, worried demeanor made you more nervous than any sound coming from the bar. Silco was never worried in his own four walls, but now- now he was.

" You are, Jinx, by helping me protect Y/N. Did you bring your revolver?"

Jinx pointed to the leather holster on her belt and nodded seriously.

Silco knew she needed a task, and he gave her one.

For the first time, he regretted not having emergency exits installed up here.

"Good girl," he spoke softly and pushed you in front of him to the bedroom door.

He opened the door and pushed you inside.

"You two stay in here no matter what you hear and you shoot anything that comes through that door unless it's me" he ordered sternly "I'm counting on you Jinx".

Silco gave you both a quick kiss on the forehead before closing the door and disappearing back into his office.

You just stood there your heart pounding hard against your rips.

His pulse raced and his chest felt strangely tight. It was a familiar feeling, one he hadn't felt in a while though - fear.

Silco went to his desk, opened a drawer and took out the revolver that Jinx and you had made for him. He grabbed the ammunition lying loose in the drawer and loaded the gun.

The tumultuous noises from the bar were still raging. He didn't know what was going on, but the fact that Sevika hadn't come back yet wasn't a good sign. He didn't know if he could do much, but he was determined to confront anyone who came through that door to protect you and Jinx.

He sat down in his chair behind the desk, the revolver loaded in his hand on his lap. Silco listened to the sounds and waited for whatever was coming.

Jinx looked around. She had never been in this room before. Her eyes fell on the bed, then she looked at you.

"I'd rather not sit there. You'll probably do all sorts of things together that I don't want to know about in this bed," she remarked dryly.

You thought that if she was bothered by that, she couldn't sit on the sofa either, or Silco's desk, or one of the bookshelves, or on the rug in front of the bed she was sitting on right now, her gun drawn in her hand.

"Hmm," was all that came out of your mouth, there was nothing you could have said to that anyway.

Your thoughts were circling around Silco in his office and what was happening in the bar. Was Sevika all right? Would there be really angry people storming the office and maybe even killing Silco?

The stone in your chest that was on your heart seemed to be getting heavier by the minute.

"What do we do if they really come in here?" you heard yourself ask.

Jinx cocked her gun and said dryly, "Kill them, of course."

"You say it in such an easy fashion."

Jinx looked at you.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you"

You smiled worriedly at the girl and once again you were surprised how brave she was, how strong-willed and determined.

"Please don't put yourself in danger unnecessarily" you said gently.

"Don't worry about me"

A noise behind the closed bedroom door made you fall silent. It sounded like someone kicked open the door to the office. A shot that made you wince. Then you heard Silco's voice muffled, but you couldn't make out the words. Your heart was beating wildly. Then you heard a voice that sounded like Sevika. At first you wanted to breathe a sigh of relief, but then you heard more voices.

Jinx and you silently exchanged an uncertain look.

Again you heard tumultuous noises, this time directly from the office. The next moment, green smoke poured from under the bedroom door. A gas.

"Fuck..." it came over your lips.

Hastily, you pressed your hand in front of your mouth and nose and grabbed Jinx's arm.

Jinx coughed, and did as you did, pressing a hand in front of her mouth and letting you pull her into the bathroom. Hurriedly, you closed the bathroom door behind you and tried to stuff the gaps between the door and the frame with towels.

For a moment it seemed like it was working, but soon the green smoke was seeping into the bathroom as well. You couldn't possibly hold your breath the whole time.

As you coughed, gasping for air, inhaling the smoke, you felt your limbs go limp almost instantly and an abrupt, heavy fatigue wash over you. Jinx was already lying on the floor with her eyes closed, but you could see her chest rising and falling. She was only unconscious.

Powerless, you sank to the floor, leaned against the base cabinet under the sink, and reached for her hand.

Slowly your senses weakened. You heard footsteps coming closer in the bedroom. The bathroom door opened, bringing another gush of green gas into the room. A man stood in the doorway, tall, dark skin, the color of milky coffee, blue, cold eyes looking down at you. You saw a scar on his neck and a breathing mask covered his mouth and nose, but you were sure, standing before you was someone who couldn't be here at all.

"There you are," the man said in a voice that sounded raspier than the last time you met.

It was impossible, and yet he was standing in front of you.

"Tavos..." it came faintly across your lips before you lost consciousness.

@puffball-lover554

@sparrow-rise

@mikariell95

@mywckdmind

@zaunsin

@livin-sarahs-dream

@jennrosefx

@tangytastyflatboard

@waddles2020

[joyful-soul-collector]

❄️Week 1: December 9-15❄️

stars in the city ch. 10 by @parkrstark (Pt. 3 of constant as the stars above)

Summary: Peter and Steve are finally settling into their new life with Tony. Recovery isn't always a straight line, especially with a four-year-old, but they're trying their best. Their newfound fame has Steve juggling between his private life and the one plastered on the front page of every tabloid. He shouldn't have been surprised that the public didn't believe in his rags to riches love story. Tony usually makes it easier for him to handle it all. Until he starts to distance himself from Steve, as if now he's the one hiding something. And Steve is left wondering if he's about to lose Tony for good this time.

Relationships/Tropes: Stony, Irondad, Papa Steve, Homeless Peter Parker, Homeless Steve Rogers, No Powers AU, (Coffee Shop AU??? Sorta)

Review: This fic just always makes my heart ache in the best way. So much fluff, so much angst, it's a perfect balance that I'm just absolutely in love with!

❄️

Devils Roll The Dice ch. 9 by @ephemeralstark

Summary: “I miss you Mr. Stark,” Peter admitted as he stared up through the leaves overhead at the stars that twinkled promisingly at him, “I wish you were back here. I would give anything to fix things, I would give anything for you to be alive today.” What Peter didn't know, as he made that wish and closed his eyes, letting the tears fall shamefully, was that the Universe was always listening, and it was dangerous to make a wish and offer up anything. - Tony Stark wakes up in his bed one morning, not realising that months have passed since his death - that's going to be awkward to explain to the world. Peter Parker has been living on the streets, trying to hide his identity as the entire world wants Spider-Man dead, and dealing with the trauma that Beck left him. To make things worse - it's now his fault that yet another bad guy thinks they're entitled to owning Earth.

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Spideychelle, Pepperony, Happy Hogan/May Parker, Homeless Peter Parker, Post-FFH, Post-Identity Reveal, Tony Stark Comes Back To Life

Review: Oh man this fic is so sad and so sweet, I love it so much! I love how it combines Peter's trauma after Mysterio with his reaction to finding out that Tony is alive again, it's just so creative!

❄️

His Heart Bloomed Sunflowers (and he wore them on his skin) by @littlemissagrafina (Pt. 24 of Comfortember 2020)

Summary: Peter honestly didn't know how no one had discovered his tattoos yet. He wasn't broadcasting them but he wasn't exactly being the most subtle either. Although he was partly grateful for it since he was dreading what would happen when May on Tony saw them. But he was pleasantly surprised at the reactions that he got when he was found out. Peter had expected anger, disappointment, maybe annoyance at the very least. What he got was far from that. (A sequel to Comfortember Day 4. Anxiety) Comfortember Day 29. Make/Build/Create Something Beautiful

Relationships/Tropes: Minor Spideychelle, Tattoos, Comfortember

Review: I love this fic so much! I loved the description of how the flowers wilted when the ones he'd drawn had faded, and how the ones he got tattooed never wilted again :']

❄️

I’ll drive all night (to keep them warm) by @littlemissagrafina (Pt. 23 of Comfortember 2020) 

Summary: For the next hour they tried to calm Morgan again but, just like the rest of the day with Tony and Pepper, nothing was working. No teething rings, gel, nothing. The little girl was just well and truly grumpy, tired, and sore.

Suddenly an idea came to Peter and he turned to Tony and Pepper. 

"Can I try something?"

They both nodded at him, prompting him to continue with his idea.

"Can I take her for a drive?" He asked. "I'm not sure if it'll work but Ben used to do it for me when I was younger and it always calmed me down."

Comfortember day 28. Car Ride

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Peter & Morgan, Pepperony, Baby Morgan, Car Rides, Comfortember

Review: This one was so cute! I love Peter being a good big brother to baby Morgan, and I relate to finding trips in the car relaxing and nice :D

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It’s What Brothers Do by @littlemissagrafina (Pt. 22 of Comfortember 2020)

Summary: Morgan was somehow full of even more energy than usual that day and wanted to see if she could do the monkey bars that were attached to the jungle gym herself. Before Peter could stop her, she had already grabbed hold of the first one and let herself swing towards the next one.

But the little girl had misjudged just how heavy swinging your own body weight was and almost immediately started falling. Peter shot forward from his place on the ground, jumping and diving, just managing to catch her before they both hit the grass of the park grounds. Comfortember Day 27. Park

Relationships/Tropes: Minor Pepperony, Peter & Morgan, Irondad, Peter Protects Morgan, Comfortember

Review: Another cute Big Brother Peter fic! I love that Peter was really protecting Morgan in this one, he loves her enough to put himself in harm's way to protect her

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The Burger Debate by @littlemissagrafina (Pt. 21 of Comfortember 2020) 

Summary: Tony and Peter shared a lot of similarities, there was no doubt about it. A lot of their mannerisms were the same, personality quirks (especially in the lab), occasional recklessness, selfless hero personas, etc etc. However, one thing they didn't share was their taste in burgers. Whenever the topic came up there was a friendly, yet heated, 'disagreement' as Tony called it. No matter what anyone ever told him, Tony thought that a cheeseburger was the holy grail of burgers. And Peter, well… he happened to think the same only for chicken burgers.

Comfortember Day 26. Junk Food

Relationships/Tropes: Irondad, Peter & Morgan, Pepperony, Infinity War Compliant, Not Endgame Compliant

Review: This was so sweet and so sad, especially the part where Tony couldn't eat burgers while Peter was snapped because it hurt him too much. It showed his grief really well

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Career Day Drabble by @jen27ny 

Summary: uncle happy and uncle rhodey come to peter’s career day

Relationships/Tropes: Happy & Peter, Rhodey & Peter, Happy & Rhodey, Minor Irondad, Career Day

Review:  I loved this story so much! I really appreciate seeing some nice Uncle Rhodey and Uncle Happy content!!

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Gifts by @wayward-fairchild (Pt. 5 of Holiday Collection 2020) 

Summary: Rhodey and Tony have been together to the point Rhodey sees the kids as his own. Maybe that is why the kids agree to help with Rhodey's biggest gift to Tony yet.

Relationships/Tropes: Rhodey & Tony, Irondad, Rhodey & Peter, Christmas, Kid Peter

Review: This was just absolutely adorable! I love some Irondads content and this was very sweet

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evermore by @lyssismagical

Summary: Just a Solid Vent Fic. I wanna do 30 days of Taylor Swift-inspired fics (folklore and evermore) lmao but idk yet we’ll see lemme know tho

Relationships/Tropes: Spideychelle, Irondad, Peter Overworks Himself

Review: I loved this one a lot! I definitely relate to Peter with tending to overwork myself during school and letting other things fall away, and then feeling quite exhausted after it's all over haha. I'm glad MJ and Tony were able to help him <3

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Two Hours Spent Cuddling by @skeeter-110 (Pt. 2 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: A giant snowstorm takes out the power in the tower. While waiting for the backup generator to come up, the Stark-Rhodes family finds a way to stay warm.

Relationships/Tropes: Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Kid Peter, Christmas

Review: I. Love this story. So much. I haven't seen very many stories that center around Rhodey being a father-figure to Peter, and this one definitely filled all my desires for such a story! It's so fluffy and sweet, and I loved every word :D

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Three Stark-Rhodes’ Decorating by @skeeter-110 (Pt. 3 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: Tony, Rhodey, and Peter Stark-Rhodes begin decorating for the holiday season.

Relationships/Tropes:  Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Kid Peter, Christmas

Review: This story was absolutely adorable! It was another featuring Papa Rhodey and Dad Tony with Little Peter, and it was so well done! I love that Tony's robots and JARVIS each get a stocking hung over the fire too, and the way Peter pronounce ornaments as "orminents" was so cute!!!

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Four Poorly Wrapped Presents by @skeeter-110 (Pt. 3 of Twelve Days of Christmas)

Summary: Peter has two presents each for his Daddy and his Papa. The only problem was, he had no idea how to wrap them. He figures the Avengers could help.

Relationships/Tropes: Ironhusbands, Irondad, Papa Rhodey, Avengers Family, Kid Peter, Christmas

Review: This was so sweet! Clint, Nat, and Steve treat Peter with such sweetness, and it made my heart all fuzzy and warm <3

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Click here for more fanfic rec lists!

[mochi-marie]

hello and congratulations ! 💕 for the event could you do the song heat waves by glass animals with bokuto? focusing on the chorus „sometimes all i think about is you, late nights in the middle of june,,,,". for the reader! male reader if you're okay with that, if not then gender neutral is totally okay! shorter than him (not by a lot, probably like half a foot or less), and has a build more on the larger side, and has freckles, curly hair, and glasses. the reader is also introverted and gets flustered very easily. thank u ! <3

genre : ( insecurity-based ) angst to fluff ( ? )

pairing : bokuto kotaro x introverted! male reader ( bigger, curly, freckles, glasses )

author's note : okay, for some reason, i started to listen to this song on repeat for a long while just basking in the lyrics and music to get acquainted and to familiarize myself with the general vibe i got from it -- i got really inspired by reading the lyrics while listening, so thank you so much for helping me find my new favorite song!!! i hope you enjoy! this is also my first time officially writing a male-insert, so please, any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! also, i might have strayed from the main focus of the specific lyric, so i deeply apologize!! 😖💛

also, if i forgot any warnings that anyone thinks i should add, please tell me as soon as possible!!

warning : insecurity, feeling as though you are not enough, angst ( kinda? ), ooc bokuto ( in my opinion ), written at 2 A.M. + Unedited

Hands shoved into small pockets under the summer night sky, you avoided his curious gaze, opting to let your hand come up to ruffle your curly hair rather hastily. thinking -- thinking about ways to stall for just a few minutes longer, hoping to whatever power above that he would just wait and listen patiently until you finally explained why you had asked him to meet you out in the parking lot after his practice. The daylight had disappeared during the few minutes you both silently basked in each other's company, the stars just barely starting to flash and twinkle above both of your heads. Summertime was in full swing, though a soft breeze managed to drift by, tousling and playing with your bouncy locks and waving through his salt-and-pepper hair. If the bitter thoughts had not been weighing heavily on your mind, perhaps you would've giggled. Any other time you might have nudged him, gesturing for him to lean down just a smidge so you yourself could do as the wind and card through his hair with your fingers, gently separating the spikes of hair stuck together from sweat due to the hard volleyball practice. Oh, what you would give for your mind to be empty enough to carelessly be enough for and with him.

The thoughts weighed on you heavily -- the ideas implanted by society's view of perfection. The world around you would question why Bokuto would be with someone such as yourself; someone so imperfect, drowning in their insecurities. What gave you the right to bog him down with your personal issues? Did you not notice the glances peers would give, watching Bokuto buzz around you happily as you both walked along? Do you not see the way he works hard to keep himself so... perfect? That was the only word worthy of describing your Kotaro. Perfection was his middle name, it seemed; a perfectly beautiful smile that lit up a room, a bubbly personality that could only ever seem to do good for the people that relaxed in his presence. Yes, your boyfriend was effortlessly perfect. So why couldn't you be the same? Why were you who you are, why must you feel so unworthy?

Your arms had migrated to wrapping around your mid-section, eyes planted to the ground as your mind raced. You didn't see the way Bokuto's eyes glanced down to you, worry laced in his honey eyes. While Bokuto wasn't the brightest academically, that did not mean he was completely simple-minded; he was well versed in emotions, specifically your emotions. He often prided himself on saying that he knew you like he knows the very back of his hand, and it seemed that this claim was no lie. His hand gravitated toward your own, eyebrows furrowed in confusion and worry -- "(name)? is... is everything okay?" His voice was spoken low and soft, hoping to not startle you. "What's wrong?" His voice reached your ears, and with a quick glance from the corner of your eye, you were met with the honey-hued sight that always managed to calm your nerves better than what any remedy could.

Clearing your throat softly, your mouth opened, and yet no words would form. The words that swam dangerously in your head died the second they landed on your tongue, and you were left open-mouthed, trying to form a coherent sentence. Why was it so hard to simply talk about your insecurities? You mentally scowled, a bretah catching in your chest before you let your eyes flutter closed, trying to gather yourself quickly.

Bokuto's hand grasped onto the tips of your fingers, eyes surveying your face for any reaction. With the familiar cute pink hue slowly growing onto the apples of your cheeks, he pulled your hand closer to himself, his own fingers nervously fiddling with your own fingers. Your nervousness was starting to catch, making him anxious. What was so wrong that you could barely even form the words you wanted to say? His mind blanked, biting the inside of his cheek as he scanned your face numerous times, waiting for a sign that you were ready. He would be patient, for you.

His hand never left yours.

"Why are you still with me?"

Shaky breathing. The stilling of fiddling fingers. The confused exhale of air, paired with furrowed eyebrows that you could not see with your eyes tightly snapped shut, cheeks burning with embarrassment and eyes met with the faint, familiar hot sting. Your breath was held tightly in your throat, glasses slipping down the bridge of your nose with the way your head was tilted at a downward angle.

"What do you mean?" Was his only response, calm, though by the small waver of his voice, you knew his eyes were most likely wide. Wide and churning with golden panic that would not suit his boyish attitude. Eyes creeping open, you were met with exactly what you had predicted. Your hand slipped from his, arms resting against your stomach, trying to provide yourself the comfort a part of you was craving -- a crave for his comforting touch. His hugs of which never failed to spark butterflies to explode in your stomach, the hugs that wrapped around you fully, trapping you within his warm, strong embrace that made you feel at home; the hugs that made you feel like everything was okay again. "You'd be better off with someone more like you. You just need a better life than this..." Your voice met his ears, and with every unspoken word that finally spilled from your lips, he finally realized how much this bothered you, and now how it affected him.

His hands found your shoulders and he pulled you to his chest, one palm resting snug against your back, the other arm resting around your shoulder, cradling your face to his chest and into the strong, warm embrace that always managed to wash all your worries away.

"You're all I need." Bokuto mumbled firmly, adam's apple bobbing as he held back the severe urge to let his tears escape from the corner of his eyes where they had started to pool as the situation continued to dawn. You didn't feel enough, and that was more than enough information for him to finally understand what was going on through your handsome little head. "You're all I need, all I'll ever want, 'kay?" Voice murmured against the crown of your head as he pressed his lips to your curly hair -- so soft, locks of your beautiful curls that always tickled his face when you'd embrace in a joyful hug at every greeting, his lips, like default, softly curling upwards at the familiar feeling that calmed his nerves. "You're more than enough, just remember that. Sometimes all i think about is you... don't forget that 'm never far away," Bokuto paused, pulling away to look down at you softly, readjusting the glasses that had slipped down your nose and at an awkward angle to avoid being crushed by the force of you against his chest.

"Say it with me."

"What?" "Say you're enough, please, (name),"

"Wh-"

"So you know that you're perfect the way you are, I need to know that we leave happy. Happy and together, (name)," Bokuto smiled a wobbly smile, eyes begging you to do this one thing for him -- for the both of you.

"I am enough" is a phrase that will resonate with your soul one day. A fact that is disguised by the hardened layers of stony-resilience that makes the battle of self-love seem impossible. Yet you are one of the strongest people Bokuto knows, and he believes in your abilities, passion, and you as a whole in all of his entirety, just like you do with him. A relationship with a deep emotional connection, and with him, this deep connection felt like a home away from home. Yes, Bokuto is indeed perfection, you decide.

His hand never left yours for the rest of the night, uncharacteristically yet sweetly lifting the back of your hand up ever few minutes to press three quick kisses to the back of your hand in a show of physical love -- a reminder that your Bokuto Kotaro will always be there, no matter what.