#they were quite problematic but i had soft spot back then

[arisu-alisa-alice]

[genderfluid-insomniac]

Can I request Signora, Sandrone, and Arlecchino comforting their female S/O who reveals she feels insecure about her body and have it end in NSFW?

Signora, Sandrone, and Arlecchino comforting their female S/O who reveals she feels insecure about her body (NSFW)

Signora

She’s going to know when you start feeling insecure because of her observant eye and brings you into your shared room, sitting you down on her thigh and tilting your face up. “Something’s bothering you. Don’t try to deny it, speak to me about what’s bothering you, darling.”

You confessed you’d been feeling insecure about your body and why she, a gorgeous powerful harbinger, would choose you to be her significant other, someone who was nothing special and didn’t have a sculpted body shaped by archons. “Oh pretty girl. Have I neglected you this much? I suppose I am no better than those beneath me if you truly have to ask that.”

Her fingers trailed down to your bottom and snaked their ways under your silk panties, lilithe fingers circling your clit and putting pressure so she slipped into your walls. “I guess I’ll just have to remember every single thing I adore about you. Like all the ways I can make you cum around my fingers.” Adoring the lewd noises that left your lips and twitched when she pressed against a certain spot that made you see stars, unconsciously rocked your hips to the rhythm and leaned your head back with a sigh.

Sandrone

You’ll probably have to speak up about it since Sandrone will be absorbed in her experiments and tuning out everything else (except you ofc) without meaning to while she sits on her automaton.

“So, what’s going to happen, since you won’t tell me what’s wrong, is that I’m going to list the reasons why I love you and give you endless praises. But every time you brush it off with humor or denial and don’t think I’m telling the truth, I am going to spray water at you with this bottle. Sound fun, darling?”

You gulped and processed what she said as she continued to gaze at you. Knowing that if you felt uncomfortable you could stop at any time but part of you wanted to continue.

“Deal.” You smiled and wondered how hard this could be. Sandrone began to praise you relentlessly and every other time she would have to spray you because of your instinctual response to brush it off.

“You know, you’re beautiful and work so hard, coming back after a hard day’s work and still staying strong for me. My brave caring for me when they’ve had a hard day as well. Now it’s my turn to care for you~” She cooed, placing a gentle kiss on your nose and grinning at the blush that had spread across your face. Her vibrant teal eyes boring into yours, daring you to open your mouth.

Arlecchino

Like Signora, she’s going to notice but won’t say anything unless you bring it up or it becomes seemingly too concerning. She cares a lot even if it doesn’t look like it but her love for you can be seen through her actions as verbal expression isn’t something she’s used to saying and talking to you about how much she adores you since you came into her life.

“Dear? Something seems to be bothering you and I left you alone in case you wanted to come to me but it seems like it’s quite problematic.” You knew she’d find out, dating a highly observant harbinger had taught you you couldn’t keep a lot from her (not to mention surprises were hard to plan). Explaining that you felt like you could never match up to her in physical appearances and that Arlecchino could do so much better in terms of significant others.

The Knave’s face remained stoic as she processed your inner turmoil and a soft sympathetic smile taking over his lips, bringing her hand up to your hair and working out the small kinks in it. “Beloved, you should have told me sooner. I chose to court you. Yes, I could have chosen anyone else but I didn’t… I want you no matter what you look like.”

“Hm, maybe I should ravish and fuck your body till the only thing on your mind is my name and the praises I’m giving you? Or maybe I should punish and edge you by playing with your perky tits and wet pussy till you compliment yourself, then allow you to cum on my tongue? What do you think, kitten?”

[savage-rhi]

 “my kiss?” “right, sorry.”

IM BACK AGAIN WITH MY BOYS I NEED MORE FUEL

this just screams damon + adam <33

@nemodoren HERE YA GO BABU

Damon furrowed his brows while he stared into his cup of coffee. He didn't have the heart to look Adam in the eye, much less carry a conversation this early. Every so often he'd glance between the steam of the coffee and see Adam reading from his phone. No doubt it was that ridiculous gossip column he so loved. Kiss & Tell Me Not, was it? Damon thought to himself while his thumbs brushed over the sides of the brown cup.

Damon began to recall previous times he and Adam were quite talkative after having a roll in the sack. The calm this time around was peculiar, and he wasn't sure if he quite liked it or not. The peace of it all was something Damon hadn't experienced in many years. Not since his previous relationship, and even then moments like this were a commodity.

He tried not to think about her, not wanting to sour the morning. Especially with how beautiful the sun looked coming above the skyscrapers. Damon blinked a few times while looking out the window, a soft sigh left him that he hadn't noticed. He suddenly raised a brow when Adam bolted up from his chair and began to run about like a mad man collecting his clothes and other belongings.

"Did you put cocaine in your espresso?" Damon quipped.

"Har, har, you wish," Adam said, his breath winded while he scrambled to get his overshirt on. "I just realized I'm running late."

"I thought you didn't have work today?"

"I forgot I switched shifts with Deltrese."

Damon snorted in disbelief. "If I recall, you and I quote, 'hate the stupid bitch'."

"I do, I do, I'm not denying that." Adam laughed then started messing with his hair to make it presentable.

Not that his impromptu grooming would do much to make an improvement, Damon noted to himself amusingly.

"For as crappy of a person as she is, her kid is sick. I may have a soft spot."

"Could've fooled me." Damon said with a smirk. He then took a drink of his coffee, savoring the earthy taste while trying not to think about problematic co-workers. That's the last thing he needed to be dwelling on.

"I'll be back around noon! Make yourself at home!"

Adam nearly bolted out of the kitchen when he was ready, only stopped when Damon did a double take and yelled.

"My kiss?"

Adam stopped in his tracks and grinned. "Right, sorry!"

Damon closed his eyes and smiled wide when he felt Adam's lips upon the scruff of his cheek. It wasn't the most passionate of kisses, nor would Damon be so bold as to put it on his top ten, but there was a tenderness to it that had his smile linger long after Adam had left.

He wondered how long this would last. Nothing ever was this good for long.

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[marsbutterfly]

Can I request Mikey, Baji and draken with a gf or gender neutral reader who has a high Libido (? Is that what it is called) like she/they constantly want to make out with them and take it further

Headcanons: Mikey, Draken and Baji & A High Libido S/O

Warnings: nsfw, mentions of oral sex, squirting, vaginal sex,fem!Reader

- Kissing Mikey is one of your favorite things in the entire world. His lips are soft yet his actions are firm.

- So naturally you try to kiss him at every single chance you get. No matter where you are or what time it is, you will reach for his face and throw him on the couch or whatever chair is available.

- Mikey is all in favor of a good ol' make out session.

- The two of you share an insanely high libido so most sessions end up with you naked on his bed.

- You will hop on top of him mid-kiss and reach inside his pants.

- If you don't reach for his dick, you at least like to move your ass around on his lap, feeling as the bulge increases in volume.

- He is crazy about the sounds you make when you are touching him or when he touches you.

- Mikey usually turns you on without meaning to, like he will grab your waist and pull you close or call you his girl in public and it drives you nearly insane.

- He likes to rub the tip of his cock on your lips gently until you open your mouth, hungrily waiting to taste his dick on your tongue.

- And when he fucks you, he makes sure to hit your sweet spots so he can hear all the little noises you make because of him.

- He likes to fuck you hard and his stamina is quite high so he can fuck you for long periods of time. An hour, even two depending on what your methods to turning him on were.

- He will fuck you anywhere: In an alley, his room, your room, public bathroom, wherever you are it doesn't matter.

- After sex, comes the cuddles. That is until it turns into a make out session and you look at him with fire in your eyes before asking:

- "Can we fuck again?"

- Even innocent touches can get you horny, and that can be problematic because he is a very touchy boyfriend.

- He will be brushing your hair and accidently pull it a little bit too hard and your pussy is already soaking.

- He is kind of startled when you sit on his bare leg, his skin in close contact with your aching core.

- When you start moving, his eyes roll to the back of his head and he places his hands on your hips.

- He locks you down on his thigh and won't let you get up until you make a mess on his skin.

- He bites on your neck and leaves little marks all over while guiding your hips with his hands.

- His favorite view is when you are on top of him, the light causing a shadow to take over your face while your mouth hangs open, his name falling from your lips.

- At one point when he leaves a particularly dark mark, that's when you hit your first orgasm of the night.

- When you ask to suck his dick, his first instinct is to say no and flip you onto the bed, spreading your legs wide as he positions himself in front of you.

- He eats you out like it is the most delicious meal he has ever had in his life.

- His fingers going in and out of you while his lips gently suck on your clit, his tongue making sure every inch of your pussy has some kind of attention.

- In the end, he always makes sure you come at least twice before he allowed you to do anything to him.

- He loves how you get horny with every little touch though sometimes he wonders if his dick can handle all the action.

- That doubt only remains until he sees you naked, that is when he realizes that, for you, he will have his dick hard for hours.

- Baji is constantly horny though he can usually take care of himself when duty calls.

- So when you started dating, he tried to hide his boners long enough until he had time to masturbate but with little success.

- During meetings, you would constantly guide his hand to your thigh and eventually to your soaked underwear.

- His fingers rushing through the fabric, pressing against your pussy until your body has a few light spasms.

- Your mind rushes through all the things you want him to do with you.

- When the meeting is over, he whimpers in your ear: "Do you want me?"

- He places his hands in your underwear and it is your turn to whimper in response to his actions. "Ooh, so wet already? I would say you do want me."

- Baji loves it when you take control. He loves to see how desperate you can get for a taste of his dick, how fast you undo the buckling of his belt and how fast until you unwrap a condom.

- He does what he needs to do to satisfy you, going gentle at first before roughing it up, loving to pound you, pull your hair and spank you, wanting you to feel free to let your slutty side out.

- He loves to watch your squirt all over him.

- Sometimes after a long sex session, his dick will be to sensitive to fuck you again so he uses his fingers or his tongue to give you another round of orgasms.

- The next day, he will tease you about the way you were clinging to him the night before but he does so in private, he would never want other guys to think about you in that way.

- You are his, after all.

[rogue-durin-16]

YOU DRIVE ME MAD

Summary: Fred's and Y/n's silly rivalry may have more to do with love than with hate; after a fatal incident, some confessions are made.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst-fluff

Tags:

Fred Weasley: @whiskeyn-rain @lumos-solemn

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa

Warnings: brief mention of violence, blood, language (this seems a lot darker than it is lmao)

A/N: idk man I just love this idiot so here it comes another oneshot. The reader's house is not specified btw. Enjoy <3

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

Fred spotted me and walked to stand near me before asking jokingly "On your way to kill a man, Y/n?" Oh, little did he know.

"what is that?!" I exclaimed at the sight of my friend's bruised arm.

"uhm... Nothing."

"who did that to you?" I knew the answer before I even got it. My friend had gone to break up with that Cormac McLaggen the previous night; she had finally listened to us and ended that toxic relationship they had, but apparently she got a souvenir from it.

"It's fine- he didn't mean to- Y/n don't do anything stupid." Too late, I saw red.

"I don't have time for your bullshit, Weasley." I curtly replied bumping his shoulder while I walked past him, making his smile drop in confusion. I never missed the opportunity to start a playful argument with him, but, as I had said, I didn't have time for that.

With the corner of my eye, I saw him joining my friends in the task of trailing after me.

I spotted the bastard chatting with his friends in the middle of the hallway that led to the Great Hall. "Oi, McLaggen!"

"Evening, Y/l/n." That filthy grin vanished from his face when I kicked him in the balls, triggering some gasps from our peers and a grunt of pain from him.

"Listen carefully, you loathsome pig." I leaned over to be eye to eye with him. "If you dare to lay a finger on my friend again— if you even think about it— I'll become your personal nightmare." I stood upright again, his eyes full of hate and rage following my movements. "You don't deserve a bloody warning, but I'm a generous woman." Poison dripped off my tongue, my eyes throwing daggers at him as I stepped back and turned around.

My eyes met Fred's worried ones while I made my way to my friends; they surely had told him enough for the ginger to know this was no time for joking and teasing.

His gaze then flickered behind me with panic and I realized a tad too late I shouldn't have turned my back to McLaggen; at the end of the day, pride overpowered honour in a lot of Gryffindors.

I spun around, grabbing my wand from my pocket, but I wasn't fast enough; before I knew what was happening, Fred was in front of me, serving as a human shield from the jinx.

The unknown spell hit his back and propelled us in my friends' direction. I was quickly on my knees, sitting Fred up and earning a grunt in the process, which I initially thought was caused by the fall. "Are you mental?!" My friend casted an Expelliarmus at the younger Gryffindor, long forgotten due to Fred's actions.

"My back— AH!" He yelped when I tried to pull him up.

"OI!" A first year who had made his way to the first row of students frantically gestured at Fred's back. "He's bleeding!!"

"What?!" I made him lean on me to take a look at his white shirt, now stained with blood. What I thought to be a harmless jinx turned out to be fatal.

"He's not supposed to be bleeding!" Cormac shouted, as panicked as I was.

One of my friends said something about going to look for George while the others shoot off to look for Madam Pomfrey.

"I'm gonna kill him..." Fred mumbled through gritted teeth, his voice shaky and weak. He felt so fragile in my arms, and I couldn't help the tears stinging my eyes.

"Fred—" his hands, which had been gripping my forearms, lost strength as the boy's body relaxed. "For fuck's sake don't fall asleep."

"... 'm trying..."

"FREDDIE!" His twin brother rushed to us, falling on his knees by his brother's side.

"I'm sorry." McLaggen had walked to us, keeping a safe distance.

"YOU'RE DEAD MCLAGGEN!" George stood up before I could stop him. Luckily for everyone, Madam Pomfrey showed up.

"Oh Lord! Mister Weasley, quick! Help me with your brother!" The Healer commanded, and soon they were pulling Fred off my grasp and rushing to the infirmary.

I was left in the middle of the hallway with my friends showering me with worried questions and reassurance.

What the fuck had just happened?

~~~~~~~~~~~~

During dinner, several girls and a couple of boys came to congratulate me for kicking McLaggen's balls, and it would have been a lot more satisfactory if Fred Weasley hadn't stepped in the middle.

As soon as I finished my meal, I headed to the infirmary through the now quiet halls, only to find there were too many people visiting.

Of course, George was there, along with their younger siblings and Lee Jordan, but in front of them stood Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall and none other than Cormac McLaggen himself.

"—already told you it wasn't for you!"

"How is that an apology, Mister McLaggen?" McGonagall scolded him, refraining herself from hitting the boy herself.

"You better fucking run, McLaggen, because the moment I can step out of this bed I swear on Godric I will—"

"Enough, Mister Weasley!" I almost pitied the poor woman. Her House was probably the most problematic. "All of you must go to your dormitories, Mister Weasley needs to rest." I stood on the entrance of the room, unsure of whether I should leave or enter, until Flitwick's eyes landed on my form. He redirected McGonagall's attention to me, and I felt the need of shying away. "Miss Y/l/n," I didn't miss the failed attempt of Fred to move; luckily, he was stopped by his sister. "I suppose you wanted to pay a visit?"

"Uhm... I did, Professor." I confessed, fidgeting with the sleeves of my robe. "I know it's late—"

"Don't take too long." She spoke, motioning everyone to follow her. "Curfew is still at 10." She reminded me in a warning tone, passing by.

As soon as they were out, I made my way to Fred, who lay on his stomach in one of the beds, the sheets only covering his legs an hips in order to avoid the clothing chaffing his damaged skin.

"You have a heart after all, huh?" He teased once I stood in front of him.

"How are you?" He frowned at my genuine question; the ginger surely expected me to make a witty comeback, but again, it didn't seem the time.

"A tad better." He gave me a reassuring half smile, deciding to drop our banter for a night. "Flitwick said he used a stinging jinx but casted it wrong." Fred huffed. "A bloody tosser."

He motioned at the chair behind me and I sat down, scooting closer to the bed. I still couldn't wrap my head around the fact that he had jumped in front of me. It had hit his back, but I knew it was meant to hit my face —what a mess that would have been—, and I couldn't help but feel a bit guilty.

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

"It's not on you." I felt my face flaring up at the ease with which he saw through me. I wasn't the first time he did that, but it was the first time he didn't use it to tease me.

"I know, I just—" I sighed. "I don't know." Though my sight was casted down, I still felt his worried gaze on me. "I'm gonna murder him."

"I reckon George will overtake us both on that." He tried to laugh but ended up in a since instead. "Or Gin. Maybe they'll team up with Ron and we'll find a corpse in the Gryffindor common room tomorrow." This time it was me who laughed. "How's your friend?"

"She'll be alright." I informed, distracting myself with a loose string at the hem of my skirt.

"And you?" I met his eyes with a hum leaving my mouth. "How are you?"

"Been better." I confessed.

Silence.

"Can you pass me the water?" I nodded, holding the glass in front of him and putting the straw in his mouth so he could take a couple of sips. "Thanks."

"No worries."

Silence again.

"Did you eat something?"

He scrunched his nose. "Not really."

"I'll go grab something from the kitchens." I didn't get far before his long fingers wrapped around my wrist.

"I'd rather have you here keeping my company." I then sat down again, his fingers only leaving my wrist to intertwin with mines. "I'm not hungry anyway."

More silence.

"Your hand is really soft." I reckon those words involuntarily escaped his lips by the way his eyes widened. "I don't know why I said that."

"Yours is too, surprisingly."

"Surprisingly?" He quirked an eyebrow at me, and I didn't quite realise what his grin was about until I spoke again.

"I imagined they'd be more rough." Oh no. "That came out wrong— I meant—"

"That you've imagined what my hands would feel like?" He was trying to bite back a laugh at the way my face turned red.

"No!"

"You sure?"

"Positive."

"Liar."

There we went again; the white flag was out.

"Fuck you."

"Please." My cheeks turned even redder, and I wanted to think it was because of the anger. "You look really cute when you blush."

"You look really cute when you keep your mouth shut."

"Then shut me, love." He wiggled his brows at me.

"I would, but I don't wanna punch you in this state."

"You're very agressive." He pointed out, shocked that I didn't get what he was implying. "I meant with a kiss."

"Ew-" I pretended to gag. "no!"

He tugged on my hand and pulled me to my knees falling right in front of his eyes with our faces inches away. "C'mon Y/l/n, we're dragging this on now." His eyes kept falling on my mouth after I had unconsciously chewed on my lower lip.

"We're... We're not dragging on anything." I wasn't sure if I was trying to convince him or myself.

"Do you want me to start? Alright, you drive me mad." He forced his gaze to be fixed on mine. "You're annoying, rude and a pain in the arse." I huffed. "But you're also quick-witted and caring and brave." Gosh I hated how easily he made me blush. "Sometimes I want to punch you in that pretty face of yours but other times— most of the times— all I wanna do is kiss you." His thumb caressed the back of my hand. "Hell, I threw myself between you and that blonker without thinking twice!"

He raised his eyebrows, silently prompting me to say something, but I just didn't know what to say.

"Miss Y/l/n," Madam Pomfrey called, making me let go of Fred's hand an stood up. "It's almost ten o'clock! Let Mister Weasley rest." I nodded, not even looking in Fred's direction as I exited the infirmary.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

FRED'S P. O. V.

The morning after the incident, Dean and Neville dragged in an unrecognisable McLaggen; they were probably the only ones who cared about that bloke enough to take him to Madam Pomfrey, though they did it half-heartedly.

I was discharged after three days in, right before lunch, and obviously, I was received as a hero; several people came to praise my bravery or ask how I was feeling, but I just wanted to see one person.

That night in the infirmary I was sure she felt the same way —hell, I had been sure for a couple of months— but after seeing her reaction, I didn't really know anymore.

I could always tell her it was a prank, and we would go back to our usual bickering. "Weasley!" Shit. "Fred!" She specified when the four of us turned at the call of our surname, almost jogging in my direction. "Can we talk?"

"Go ahead, darling." I prompted her without moving from my seat.

"In private?"

"Nah," I begged Godric for her not to see behind my grin the panic that produced me the mere thought of being left alone with her.

"Are you joking?" She huffed and, after taking a deep breath, she spoke. I wasn't expecting her to speak. "So you see, you're cheeky and stupid and not nearly as funny as you think." Ginny spit her pumpkin juice due to Y/n's harsh words. "but I... ugh! Okay— I want to kiss you too."

This time it was Ron who choked on his drink. "What's going on?"

"I feel like we missed an important part of this conversation." George commented.

This time it was Y/n who awaited for an answer. "This is literally the most embarrassing thing ever, so at least say something." She commanded in a rather rude tone, tapping her shoe against the floor.

I winced ever so slightly at the effort of getting up, but it was worth it when I saw her expression as I towered her; I reckon I had never seen her that sheepish before.

"That's a really mean way of saying you're attracted to me." I observed, quirking a brow at her. "Dunno why I fancy you so much."

"Well that makes the two of us." I couldn't help but chuckle at her attitude before cupping her cheeks and bring her lips to mine.

Finally.

Despite being a short, innocent kiss, was enough to make us both blush and grin like idiots.

"Awww" I rolled my eyes at my twin's mockery, knowing damn well I wouldn't hear the end of it.

"Why do I feel like I'm gonna miss you two being at each other's throat?" I couldn't care less about Ron's question as Y/n pulled me down for another kiss.

Almost bleeding to death seemed worth it in that moment.

[gotnofucks]

Special Training

Pairing: dark!Steve x Reader

Summary: Steve takes special interest in your training

Words: 2k

Warning: Non-con, authority abuse, smut, very slight breeding kink, language, 18+ ONLY

A/N: dedicated to the sweet girl who doesn’t want to be named. She wanted some tough love for daddy Steve...hope you like it hon

MASTERLIST

+++++

You ducked at the last moment, rolling under your opponent’s legs and grabbing them as you stood up. The body fell on the mat behind you with a thud, and you panted as the buzzer finally went away. Dropping down next to the fallen comrade you blinked the sweat away from your eyes, hand reaching out to pat his back.

“You alright man?” You asked and he nodded with a strained groan.

“Damn Y/n, you keep getting stronger every day. I bet you’ll be taken in the team very soon.” He commented and you smiled. Getting into Avengers was a dream, but the training for it was a bitch. Hours after hours of slaving away in the gym and field, dodging punches, and bullets until you prove your metal.

“Thanks Nico, I hope you’re right.” You said and helped him stand up.

“Dude, you don’t need to worry. Your punch is as strong as –”

You stopped listening to Nico then, body tensing as you saw him approaching you. The training gear he had on defined every muscle on his body, and you gulped when his eyes locked yours in place. Nico followed your gaze and broke off, pulling off an awkward salute.

“Captain!” He greeted, blushing at his obvious eagerness. Every new trainee wanted to please the Captain, wanted to get noticed to increase their chances of selection. Steve’s face remained emotionless as he regarded you both, nodding once in acknowledgment.

“Agents, done for the day?” He asked and you both nodded, hands behind your backs and shoulders straight. He hummed and handed a sheet of paper to Nico. “You’re being transferred to Sargent Barnes’ training group Agent, you’ll report to him from tomorrow.”

Nico didn’t question the decision, simply agreed. One doesn’t argue with Steve Rogers, not if they wanted to stay on his right side. People may call him the kindest man they had met, but he didn’t accept any cheek on the field. He worked his agents hard, challenged them until they almost dropped dead. He made them sweat until they had shed every last layer of what Steve found problematic before accepting them. Most agents under him didn’t make it very far for they either quit under pressure or asked for a transfer under some other trainer.

Currently, only five people were under Steve’s command, including you. Well, four, now that Nico was being transferred. You had a hunch what prompted this, and you didn’t fancy knowing if your assumptions are correct.

“You’re dismissed. Agent Y/n, stay. We must have a word.”

Nico left the room without a backward glance and you fidgeted under Steve’s gaze until the door shut behind Nico. His eyes were so intense you almost couldn’t meet them, and once you did, they never let you look away.

“Come” He ordered and led you out the back door. It was a silent journey to his office, the sounds of your feet slapping the floor echoing around the hall. His huge form looked so big he seemed to dwarf the whole place and you gulped in nervousness. He let you enter first, shutting the door behind him and locking it securely though you knew no one would dare enter without knocking.

“On the desk” He said but before you could move yourself, he was already picking you up and depositing you over his work desk. Papers crinkled under you, but he gave them no notice, eyes rivetted to you.

“Captain” You whispered, and his hands were in your hair, pulling harshly to tilt your head so he could capture your mouth in a searing kiss. You whimpered, his tongue swirling in your mouth and hands tugging.

“What have I told you about calling me when we’re alone baby?” He asked in a husky voice and you pathetically sniffled.

“Steve” You replied, and his lips moved to your neck.

“And?”

“Stevie”

“And?”

“Daddy”

He took your hand in his, placing a kiss on your palm before moving it to the front of his pants. Squeezing himself through you, he let out a moan in your neck, humping against you.

“That’s right, say it again”

“Daddy, please.” You said and his gaze darkened, lips capturing yours harshly again. It was all teeth and tongue, hands squeezing tight. Your hands were around his arm, useless against his strength. His breath was fanning your cheek and you felt one of his hands pull the drawstrings of your tracks.

“You’re getting so good I think I need to train you exclusively. One on one” He said, and you shook your head, tears brimming in your eyes. You didn’t know how you caught the Captain’s eyes, or why he was so fixated with you. But you couldn’t take anymore of this. This was blatant abuse of authority and you were stuck with it. Who could you complain to? Who would even believe you?

“Please don’t. I want to train with my friends.” You plead and Steve chuckled darkly, hands hooking into the waistband of your tracks and pulling them down. He rubbed his cheek on yours, the slight stubble scratching you and making you quiver.

“Friends, is that what was happening with you and that pathetic boy out there?” He snarked and you squeezed your eyes shut. Your legs were bare, and he stepped between them, gathering you close so his hardness rubbed against your clothed center.

“We were only training. Honest.”

He humped you, leaving open mouthed kisses along your shoulder and covered breasts.

“You can forget about him or any other man from now on. I don’t want any hands touching you unless its me.”

He raised your eyes to meet his, delicately wiping the tears away. You sobbed, eyes anguished and troubled.

“Please Steve, don’t do this. I – I just want to be a good soldier. I don’t want this, I never did”

Your words didn’t even make him bat an eyelid, instead, he dipped his hand between your thighs, pushing aside your damp panty and feeling you. As his fingers probed you, a mortified mewl escaped your lips, your heart breaking at the unwanted sensations forcefully administered.

“You don’t want it? Baby, you’re weeping for me. Why can’t your heart accept what your body did all those months ago?”

You rested your head on his chest, tired and so helpless. The smoothness with which his fingers entered you made you ashamed. How could you be a good agent if you could not control your own body’s reaction. Steve could play you however you want, he could make your howl despite protests flowing from your mouth. He didn’t care if you pushed him away, for he was so much more stronger. He took you without consent, just like he’s doing now.

Holding you around the waist, he carried you to his chair, sitting down. He fumbled with his own pants, finally pulling out his thick cock that he forced into your hands. You stroked, more out of habit than anything. He had trained you well in the ways of pleasure. He taught you what he liked, regardless if you wanted to or not.

“Inside baby, I want to be inside you now.” He hissed as he pushed instinctively in your palm. You positioned him below your entrance, slowly sinking down on him. A broken cry escaped you, the initial stretch still hurting despite how many times he had taken you. Your moans mixed with sniffles, heat surrounding you as you bounced on him, slowly, finding your rhythm. He held you close, intimately close, and extremely possessive.

He rutted into you, meeting you for every thrust, hitting your spot each time. His hands plucked at your nipples, your clit been mashed between a thumb and finger and soon you were falling, crying out around him. He didn’t let up and pushed into your limp body, going almost feral. You could feel every inch of him, sliding in and out of you. You could feel his sweat mixing with yours underneath your butt, you could feel like stench settling in your pores and making you his.

“So good baby girl, so good. Come on, give daddy another one.” He said and you shook your head, too exhausted. He didn’t care about the soft no’s your muttered, he didn’t care about your legs that trembled around him. He rammed into you with abandon, grunts leaving his mouth and hitting your damp skin. He pinched your clit and the coil inside you tightened, you tried to push away, you pleaded, yet he kept up until your sensitive flesh was almost painful. With one hard, almost brutal thrust, you came undone again, falling apart one more time as he followed you.

He weakly pushed up even as he softened, hugging your body to his. The golden hair on his head were plastered to his sweaty forehead, tickling your nose as he kissed you, teeth pulling at your lip and then letting it snap away. His cum was dripping down around you, and yet he didn’t pull out. He would let it cool on your skin, dry into flakes as a symbol of his ownership. You cried, tears streaming down and he bent down to lick them away.

“It doesn’t need to be difficult Y/n. You’re mine, you were mine since the moment you entered the compound. You only need to accept it.” Steve said, his hand rubbing your back to sooth you.

“Please, I can’t take it anymore. This is wrong.”

His hands cupped your face, rubbing your plump and red cheeks softly. The blue in his eyes drowned you, a cesspool from which it was impossible to escape.

“Baby, you don’t need to worry. Daddy is going to take good care of you. You want to be an avenger, don’t you? I’m gonna make you one.” He promised you and you shook your head. You didn’t want to be in the team because you laid on your back and opened you legs for him. Not like this.

“Please Steve, just let me go. You know I won’t tell anyone. Please.”

He sighed as if you were a silly child who was taking too long to understand two plus two made four. He patted your head patronizingly, rubbing his nose to yours and pecking you almost affectionately.

“Y/n, you can be so cute.” He mocked. “It’s amazing how you think I will ever let anyone, or anything take you away from me. You’re mine, now and forever. Nothing will change that, ever.”

He pulled out of you, pulling your soiled panties back into place. He didn’t even need to instruct you now to not wash his essence away. You knew he would be back later tonight, sneaking in your room to inspect and take you again. No matter what you did, you would never be able to shake him off.

You both dressed and he pulled you back into his lap for his customary after-sex cuddle. He was tender, trying to soften you to him but it only sickened you more. He had inserted himself in every part of your life. Everywhere you went, you saw him. Your own body smelled more like him than yours.

“If I see you with that Agent or another man again, I’ll have the doctor remove the hormonal implant from your arm to show everyone you’re mine.” Steve warned, his hand rubbing over your belly. Your heart thudded painfully, the threat of a pregnancy worse than anything else. Not only will you never escape him, but your dreams of being an Avenger would be over. You nodded, letting him know you understand, and he kissed your head.

“Don’t worry baby, you’ll come around. I will fuck the acceptance into you.” He said and you closed your eyes when he started rocking you, resigned to your fate.

Taglist:

+++++

Protected : (dark!Peter x reader) literally adding this link everywhere hoping this would work for maybe some of you.

@shooting-star-love @stanmysoul @littlegasps @what-is-your-wish @bluemusickid

[dreamii-yume]

ANOTHER ASK BECAUSE IM HORNY ASF-- IT'S STILL THE ANON WHO SIMPS FOR DEUCE BTW!!! I LOVE U YUME!! ❤️💕

Okay, so... Closet Pervert!Deuce 👀 just basically stealing anything from darling from her newly bought handkerchief, straws from drinks she sucked from, hell maybe even sneaking into her room and stealing her underwear hngg.... AAAAAA i just love the idea of him finally having the privilege of fucking darling when she finally consents(or not, i love ur non con works ughhh 😩) when it's finally his birthday, for him to fill her up a bunch of million times and going feral when he thinks about his precious best friend getting knocked up with his babies-- GAHDHFKFHAKDHAKA BARK BARK BARK--

Baby, I smell your hornii from way over here ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) I, too, LIVE for yandere closet perverts ♥︎

Warning : Dub-Con | Yandere | Kleptomania (?)

LOL Deuce probably doesn’t even realize this creepy-ass behavior most of the time, since I can see it starting off really innocent and sweet. Like— He loses his temper one day and got into a fight with another random mob. He won, he always do but in this particular fight, he didn’t come out unscathed and blood was shed. Maybe his nose bled or there was a cut on his lip, but it caught your attention nonetheless and offered your own handkerchief to help wipe up the blood and cover the wound until you both reach the infirmary.

The handkerchief was so potent of your scent and realized how fond he is of this smell, somehow making him feel so nostalgic and soothes him up. You basically gave him the first item in his collection, despite Deuce saying how he’ll wash and return it afterwards. Surprise, surprise,he never did return it not that you minded anyway nor ever washing the piece of cloth because he didn’t want your scent getting washed away in the process. Now, it sits at the top of his collection, still stained with his own dried blood from that day...Deuce lowkey considers it his favorite lol

AND THUS, stealing shit you probably won’t notice gone became habit little by little, even becoming a daily basis. The eraser you dropped? Nope, gone. You tried looking for it in the place it landed but for some reason, it’s not there, like it was just been swallowed by the ground...weird. Oh, and that pen you were chewing on as a way to quench your boredom during history class? You looked away one moment to watch the birds outside the window and looking back— Yup, it’s gone. Sometimes, Deuce would even offer to throw your trash for you, specifically when you just finished drinking a special limited-edition milkshake, only for him to...casually slip the straw out of the cup and pocket it in to add to his growing collection. He’s a soft boi to blush at the thought of indirect kissing if he sucks on it right after.

But the real problematic issue comes in when he starts to come into your room at every opportunity he gets. Whether it’s because you invited him in, or he sneaked his way in, it doesn’t matter if he can find a way and he always will. He begins to steal stuff that was now making you suspicious, like— you’re pretty sure you dumped your underwear in the laundry basket just a few minutes ago...huh, where did it go? Socks?You’re missing a pair. Bra? It’s not difficult to count in one hand how many you have, and you SWEAR there’s one missing in your closet. Shirt, a full-set of your daily outfit?? Okay, this is getting weird, it’s clear to you now that someone is stealing from you after denying it for so long, and that’s not good, not to mention creepy.

But you don’t know that it’s him and you don’t have to know! You’re more wary of your surroundings but that’s alright...Deuce thinks as he listens to you complain about this stalker you claim to have, a smile slowly forming on his lips and sweat dripping down his forehead...You look really cute being all pouty about your lost items here, it’s difficult to resist the urge to just...steal you away for a change.

DONT EVEN GET ME STARTED WHEN YOU FINALLY GIVE THIS “CONSENT”YOU SPEAK OF. Okay, maybe you developed feelings for him at some point, cool, that’s understandble— I mean, he’s a great listener, a sweetheart who’s willing to protect and provide for you, a true gentleman who wouldn’t hurt you ever. How could you not fall for this wonderful boi? So, as a birthday gift, you finally answered his call and tried quench his hornii, the thirst and give yourself to him...Well, yeah~ Maybe it’s great at first, since he’s really cute being inexperienced and wanting to learn more about pleasuring you sexually and all but...His actions surprisingly doesn’t seem to be that of an inexperienced individual at all, if you do say so yourself.

Once you give him that green light, there was no turning back as he, quite literally would pounce on you before you could even say anything else. His actions seem so practiced, like he was just waiting for this day to come, fantasizing every outcome and how to deal with it, what methods he should use. Deuce is that type of person to get lost in the moment after all, because goddamn you feel so good wrapped around his cock like this. He had been stealing from you for months without you ever considering him as a possible suspect, like a deranged kleptomaniac he is, but he could not describe the ecstasy he feels when the realization hits him of actually being able to steal your virginity away with mere words.

So, if you give consent, you can’t expect him to stop or to slow down at any moment, because— Um, you just can’t, Darling. Isn’t this supposed to be his birthday gift? Even you can’t shake him out of the goal of fucking you stupid, finding your special spots and thoroughly abusing those spots until it all goes sore that it would be difficult for you to even stand tomorrow morning. He wouldn’t be able to shut himself up too during an intense session most likely. Aggressively muttering about creating a family with you, and wanting you knocked up with his child, possibly suggesting more ones that sounded more like a threat rather than just dirty talking that you just clench against him out of instinctive fear. Unfortunately for you, it only motivates him further.

So, anyway— yeah...This happens.

[sohin-ace]

Dio - Stolen Dance

For immersion, listen to the Dark Waltz Music - Vampire masquerade collection on youtube. Oh boy

Especially 'Tonight Ve' Dance' that shit hits the spot for this fanfic. Trust me.

"Would you honor me with a dance, Y/N?"

'Hell no', was what you craved to answer to this charming yet cruel man. Dancing with him meant selling your very soul. You were about to dance with the Devil.

But you had no choice.

You tried to run away from him, from his toxicity, from his poison, but he always managed to get you back and trap you in his web. And now he offered his warm, destructive hand for a dance, just a single dance with him.

And you had no choice.

You could not refuse. You had no right to. It was oh-so reluctantly that you had put your trembling, cold hand over his possessive one. He pulled you towards him as the music played in the luxurious ballroom.

He laid his large hand around your corseted waist, pulling you to him and bringing your bodies a little too close for your own comfort. Way too close for a gentleman to conventionally be from a lady.

But he didn't seem to care one bit as your heart pounded heavily in your chest. He could probably feel it from this proximity. And he most definitely drowned himself in it.

You hesitantly, and regrettably put one hand over his broad shoulder in what you could only call a ghostly touch. You barely wanted to touch him and potentially show him a form of validation from his wrongdoings.

He engulfed your other hand in his own, relishing in the adorable yet terrifying size difference. If he wanted, he could just close his entire hand on yours and claim it as his. Just how he could easily close the distance between you and claim you just the same.

People were around. The ladies and gentlemen of the World. High class society, partying mondanely through the night. Couples dancing, businessmen meeting, Madames chatting.

Oh but in these decorated mansions, the families yearned to see newfound lovers, for what a sight it was.

Some were watching you in earnest and maybe even admiration, glad to see how the charming, handsome Dio Brando of the Joestar Estate was gracefully swaying in rhythm with the gentle, beautiful Y/N L/N, daughter of the Lord L/N.

Your face felt warm, burning almost and it was not a comfortable feeling. Maybe it was the close proximity between him and you, maybe it was all the unnecessary attention you were receiving, putting pressure and forcing shyness upon you.

Maybe it was the rising anxiety that built viciously within you and made yout heart pump violently in your chest, or maybe it was the pure hatred you felt towards the blonde man holding you captive within this very dance.

It didn't matter what it was, it felt horrible, suffocating. You could barely breathe, the room was spinning.

You were always taught to look at your partner in the eyes when dancing, but now your partner wasn't just anyone. It was Dio Brando. There was no way you could look up at his soul-piercing amber, no, crimson red eyes. Like gems of blood.

If you looked at them, if you even glanced at them...

"You are quite tense, dear." He released your hand briefly to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, letting cool air hitting your now more exposed cheek and temple. "Relax and follow my lead."

You wanted to scoff at his words. How could you relax when your only wish at the moment was to run away from him? Your family was nowhere to be seen, Jonathan was nowhere to be seen. No one was there and no one would help you.

"You stole this dance, Dio," You growled quietly, not wanting to gather even more attention to yourself. "But it will be the last thing that you'll steal from me. Heed my words."

You finally met his eyes to grace him with a glare and he only looked down on you with mockery and a hint of fondness. As if your anger was endearing to him. He hummed in amusement.

"Hmmm...? Do I take it that everything else will be graciously given to me...?"

Before you could even gasp at his scandalous assumptions, you missed a step and fell forward, right against his solid chest. He of course didn't waste a second in wrapping his strong arms around your small form.

You could hear the other guests whispering and chuckling, probably drinking in the sight and preaching how cute you both were. The beautiful Y/N L/N clumsily falling into the arms of the very handsome Dio Brando.

Like a princess and her prince, right from a romance story. It was really fresh to witness and people just couldn't wait to see you both engaged, you looked so perfect together. After all, in this mondane society, it was all about looks.

If only they knew the truth.

You tried to push yourself off of him as you laid your palms flat on his chest, but he held you there firmly. A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest and the blonde leaned down to whisper in your ear.

"Let us go somewhere more private darling. I am tired of those curious eyes."

You felt like you were about to faint and really wanted to get out of that busy room, but surely not with Dio. As you didn't have much of a say in this, you let him guide you away, to one of the many chambers in the mansion.

He opened the door wide for you and you entered the empty, cold room bathing in darkness, not sparing him a single glance and went straight ahead to the large windows that lead to a beautifully decorated balcony.

You stayed inside though, as Dio closed the door behind him and went on his way to light a gas lamp that was laid on a night stand.

You gently pushed the silky curtains aside to glance at the moon outside. You stared at her magnificent silver light, completely forgetting where you were and that Dio was still in this very room.

You sighed, comforted by the moonlight. The moon was full on this cold night, it was the end of the year and it felt like the nocturnal satellite decided to show off all of her magic tonight.

Sometimes, you envied those legendary creatures who lived solely by the moonlight. Fantastical beings who could see the moon through all her phases and for as long as they lived. Werewolves, Vampires...

"...Beautiful, isn't it?"

You gasped, startled by his sudden deep voice so close to your ear. You swiftly turned around and glared at him, offended that his appearance tore you off your pleasant rêverie.

"Oh, please do continue. The moon reflects so deliciously on your skin, it is beyond mezmerizing."

"Yo-... you're losing yourself again, Dio!" You tried to sound strong and composed, but you couldn't help the slight whimper from escaping your throat.

"Maybe..." He lifted his large arm next to your head to fully open the curtain behind you, the sudden position flustering you as you felt trapped yet again.

You looked down as you contemplated fleeing. How many attempts was it now? You stopped counting after the 20th, but you wanted to flee again.

Not bearing the sight of his broad chest in front of you, you turned slightly back to the window and side-glanced at the beautiful garden.

There was a large maze in there. The thought of maybe trying to lose Dio there was very appealing. It turned your once melancholic and lonely expression into a softer, more relaxed one.

The moonlit maze alone filling your heart with an ounce of hope, the ghost of a smile reached your lips and eyes.

"What a sweet expression you are sporting, my love." The blond devil put his large hand on your cheek and turned your head to face him as he purred. "Although I delect myself more from your despaired expression."

Disgusting. This man was disgusting. You put a hand over his large wrist as a sign to tell him to let go of you, which he patently ignored.

He leaned forward, hovering dangerously over your face as he lifted your chin up, a soft smirk stretching his lips.

"Now tell me... what could my dove possibly be thinking about to make her look so beautifully blithe?"

You looked downwards to the red brooch on his tie, the ornament suddenly more distracting than his dominating burning gaze on you.

"I was thinking of getting away from you. It gets me going." You spoke the unfiltered truth with bitter sugar dripping from your voice.

The man before you froze upon hearing those words. Were you challenging him? Him?! The Dio Brando?

You drove him so crazy. Oh you drove him to such unfathomable frustration. His blood was boiling and pumping ferociously in his veins.

His entire body cringed, his fists balling tightly. He ground his teeth as his eyes widened in pure rage. Or was it rage? No it was deeper, more twisted than that.

It was lust.

He needed to gather all his self-control to prevent himself from breaking something or rather someone right this instant.

Yes... He could break you. Oh and it would be so easy and so satisfying, too. Nothing could quench his thirst more than destroying every inch of you at that moment.

You were such a nasty pest, you were so terribly problematic, no wonder he was so infatuated with you. So obssessed with you.

You were bad, maybe as bad as him. You pushed on all his buttons like no one ever did and yet, you played the cute little perfect girl in front of everyone else.

You made him so insane, so mad. He wanted you all to himself. He yearned for you to get your revenge on him, to be infuriated with him. He craved you right here, right now. He loved that you hated him.

Swiftly, he pressed his weight against you and pushed your body flush against the window as you gasped in surprise, barely able to even react at the forceful contact.

He was quick to catch your wrist and pin it next to your head as you tried desperately to push him away, your other hand uselessly resting on his much stronger arm.

You tried to squirm away, but his body meddled with yours in an emprisonning cage. You couldn't hide your panicked pants anymore.

"You damn woman..." He breathed in a shaky hiss right next to your heating ear, his tone way darker now and his eyes half-lidded. "Do you even realize what you are doing to me?" He spat with venom but also with dripping excitement. "You are in deep trouble, darling."

He nuzzled his face in your exposed neck, drenching himself in your sweet scent and you shuddered, his hot breath on your skin making the hair at the back of your neck stand.

Your heart hammered alarmingly inside your chest as his malicious hold triggered your Fight or Flight response. This was bad. Real bad. You struggled against his grip, writhing and pushing him.

But struggling against him was futile, useless. So useless, useless, useless...

"I hate you, Dio Brando. There's not a single piece of you that is remotely redeemable!" You growled in his ears through exhausted pants. "Hear me when I say this, I despise every inch of your disgraceful being, Dio-ugh...! I hate you with all my might...!!"

"Yes!" He grunted hungrily as he put his free hand around your hips, leaving no space between your body and his, feeling all of yourself against him. "That's it, that's what I want to hear! One more time... Scream it."

"You disgusting bastard... You have no shame..." You squeezed your eyes shut, you refused to cry. Never for him. He didn't deserve it.

"Y/N, Y/N, Y/N... Please." He was crazed, Dio lost himself, yet again. "Sweet Y/N, let me make you mine... Be mine... I know you want this..."

Just like that, the man above you craddled your body like his most prized possession, teasing the pulsing point of your neck with his lips, tongue and teeth. He clutched your hips and wrist in a bruising grip and you knew there was nothing you could do.

"I'm going to ravish you, destroy you..."

And so he did.

[nctsjiho]

Relationship with: NCT 127

Click here for: NCT 127, NCT U, NCT Dream, WayV

Taeyong:

Original contender of getting JiHo’s current room, but gave it up because she has a lot of stuff and spends more time in the dorm than he does

Is such a dad

Doesn’t show much affection towards her and vice versa, but there’s this mutual respect towards each other

Not the first person JiHo goes to when she has something on her mind, but she knows she can trust Taeyong with her heavy problems

They used to look super awkward around each other, but now they are the type of friends that can just sit in silence together doing their own thing and it not feel awkward at all

Very wholesome interactions

For example, Taeyong once lost a bet during one of their NCT Daily videos and had to clean up at the end. JiHo stayed behind and helped him clean up while talking about how fun the video shoot was. It looked so natural and NCTzens were so happy to see them together like that

Taeil:

Another dad

The person JiHo goes to for validation when singing

Either he or Doyoung is there when JiHo has to record a singing part for a new song (honestly she’s an amazing singer but is just really afraid to sing because of some past trauma ㅠㅠ )

Just like Taeyong doesn’t have many interactions with JiHo on camera, but together with the hyung line he is definitely a stable support system for her

JiHo is a sucker for great vocalists and there may or may not be a video of JiHo wide-eyed and with a dropped jaw listening to Taeil sing

Gets flustered a lot because of JiHo

She never misses a beat when getting the chance to praise his singing or volunteering him as a tribute to sing during a variety show

Calls JiHo his cute dongsaeng that doesn’t tease him too often

Johnny:

Brings out the chaos in JiHo, but in respectful amounts

JiHo is extraverted but quiet, so he tries to bring out her social side

The one that tries to get her to talk during variety shows to give her more screentime

Thinks she’s cute but would never say it out loud

Have a kind of brother-sister relationship

JiHo talks a lot to him in English

Takes her to excercise a lot

When he started boxing more and she tagged along once, he really enjoyed it

But then she started going more often and sometimes alone, and now the members blame him for taking her in the first place because they are worried she might get hurt

Doyoung:

Loves that JiHo doesn’t tease him too much

It’s a nice change from his other dongsaengs ahmm... Heachan *cough*

Contrary to popular belief are actually very close

Doyoung spent a lot of time with JiHo before his debut, and when he found out JiHo was going to be part of NCT he started learning her their choreos or helped her with singing

One of her “singing coaches”

More like moral support than anything, because she is a good singer he only needs to tell her she’s doing great

They can get quite sassy with each other

When Haechan comes to annoy him, JiHo dips and it breaks his heart every time

“I don’t wanna become another one of Haechan’s victims, you’re on your own Love”

Puts a lot of trust in JiHo and is against babying her too much, because he knows she’s a very strong person and doesn’t need it

Yuta:

When he found out JiHo spoke Japanese he was excited

When he found out JiHo was half-Japanese he was even more excited

Now they almost only converse in Japanese

He’s very protective of her

Is even careful with having the members around when JiHo is feeling down

The first to find out when small things are bothering her, bigger things she usually keeps to herself until someone notices and pries it out of her

Loves her publicly

JiHo is like a small puppy that he needs to take care of

He will cling on to her whenever he can even against the managers protests who want to avoid controversies a.k.a. dating rumours

Loves Yuta as well and often wants to partner up with him in games

Actually, she always wants to, but for the sake of keeping things fun they change every so often

Jaehyun:

Got sad when he wasn’t part of the ‘Guys who are really pretty/beautiful’

JiHo is a bro

“Yo bro!!!” “My man!” “Wassup dude!”

When they hang out JiHo becomes a whole bruh girl and the fans love it

International NCTzens want Jaehyun to talk English more and JiHo is the reason he does

People call them brothers a lot

He’s more clingy and “cutesy” with the male members than with her XD

She feels sooooo comfortable with Jaehyun to a problematic extent

SM even had to tell her to act a little more lady-like after hanging out with Jaehyun for a few weeks over Chuseok

JiHo doesn’t like watching TV that much, but Jaehyun always seem to pick out the good series and that’s why he’s the only one that gets to watch Netflix with her

Best bros <3

Winwin:

She melts~~

Has a soft spot for Winwin (like everyone else does) but isn’t overly affectionate and he appreciates that

Was awkward with JiHo for a while, but then she started learning Chinese. He noticed how much effort she put in to become accepted in NCT as the only girl. Now he doesn’t feel awkward anymore

He looks up to her because she’s so hardworking

Share a lot of cute fan favourite moments, usually where they are in the background of videos or vlives laughing together

They spent a lot of time practising dances together and said he’d like to dance together with her for an NCT Dance video

Jungwoo:

Loves the girl

It’s mutual

She gets really embarrassed around him though because he teases her and makes fun of her a lot, but he never crosses a line

Is part of the  ‘Guys who are really pretty/beautiful’ group alongside Renjun, Jaemin, and Doyoung

Really proud of that and makes fun of Jaehyun (and the other guys) for not getting chosen

JiHo said she fell in love with Jungwoo when he dressed up as a girl during the 2018 Halloween video (this made people believe that JiHo was actually lesbian or bisexual, but in this house, we do not assume gender or sexuality since JiHo has yet to speak up about it)

“Jungwoo’s visuals are... wow...”

JiHo is one of the only people that can make Jungwoo blush and she doesn’t even try!

He said JiHo’s just a cute person outside what people usually see from her

Mark:

Little-big brother

JiHo makes him laugh almost as much as Haechan or Johnny do

Helps her with rapping and is the person JiHo reaches out to when she wants validation with her rapping

Spent a whole night with her in the studio after she had a mental breakdown when she kept messing up and the producer told her to come back the next day

They never talk about it and no one else knows (that’s what they thought but Taeil and Doyoung do know. Of course they respect JiHo’s privacy and never bring it up) but he’s always there for her before or during she records her rap part when he knows she’s nervous or stressed out

“Dude!”

“DUDE!”

If Jaehyun is JiHo’s bro, then Mark is her dude shut up I don’t make the rules

They talk in English a lot as well, JiHo actually helps him out with his Korean at times

Haechan:

TEASE

The biggest piece of sh-

But we’ve been knew

Thinks JiHo is a great singer but never says anything, because he will not show her his soft side for her

Knows JiHo isn’t the best reader and while he usually makes fun when the other members mess up when they read, he’ll never make fun or laugh at JiHo

The first and only time he’d done so, he saw how her smile faded and it broke his heart so he never did it again

Instead, he’ll volunteer to read instead of JiHo whenever possible and she appreciates it a lot

Doesn’t believe that JiHo is technically younger than him

Believes in treating everyone equally, so if he didn’t tease or annoy her enough during practice, promotions, or video shoots he’ll annoy her at the dorms

Barges in her room whenever he wants to  and after an hour of annoying her or “ruining” her Vlive, he will just sit on her bed and play on her switch or his phone for a few hours

[itachi-with-a-chicken]

Come be my teacher pt 2

Aish we're back

Link to part 1

Jung Hoseok nearly died to actually make publishable Yoongi's book

But eventually he made it

He hoped the day at the luna park was enough for Jungkook to be forgiven after spending nearly every afternoon with Namjoon and his kid brother

Mostly, he hoped Namjoon could forgive him to have to deal with both his child and his own kid brother

When he mentioned it, Namjoon has a variety of emotions.

Surprise, then recognition. Eventually softness.

"they have been good, all things considered." He laughs a little "Just warning you, Jungkook took a passion for Just Dance"

Well, Hoseok considers when he watches his son weirdly dancing in front of the television, there are worst things that could happen

Also, now that he has a life back, he can discard Min Yoongi in his man cave or whatever he likes to call his attic and go back to his routine

Which means, pick up and drive is kid to school

And see again the cute teacher

Not that he cares

But you know

He does

That day Kim Taehyung was wearing a dark green vest and a white shirt and looked as an absolute old man

His housemate confirmed it and if Kim Seokjin tells you you look bad, it's true

The thing is, Taehyung didn't want to look hot, he just wanted to look comfy and cozy to his kids

When he steps outside to collect the kids, he regretted every choice made that morning

Because there it was. In all his elegant glory. Jung Hoseok.

The two exchanged a small wave and Tae nearly forgot he has something to say to him

"Come on Taehyung" he tries to say to himself "he's just another parent. Nothing to worry about. Nothing special. Not a crush, no sir"

"Hoseok-ssi" he calls him. By his name, because the first thing Jung Hoseok told him as they met is "you're taking my son most of the week, we can at least call each other by our own names"

"yah?" He was already moving towards the car, dammit.

Stumbling at bit at the beginning, Tae tells him about the little recital he proposed to the school board that year

Hoseok beamed at him

"that sounds wonderful! kids will have loads of fun"

Taehyung was positively gloating, but tried to hide it

"so this week it's going to be parents-teachers conference, so we can explain every detail"

Nobody will pry from his cold hands the knowledge that the reason why it was happening that week was that Taehyung knew as a fact that Hoseok was busy until now

And also, that nobody knew about the meeting in the first place

The thing is, a meeting was supposed to happen at some point, and Taehyung was a very considerate teacher, okay?

He needed to tell the principal about the meeting, tho

Ugh

On the other hand, Hobi was quite serene.

The wonders of a full night sleep, he guessed

Nope nothing to do with the cute teacher and the cute vest that made him look cozy and cuddly and all the stuff a grown up should not look like

It would be a lie to say that it didn't do anything to Hoseok.

But then again, Hoseok can be a good liar

His phone chimed in, showing a text from Yoongi

"so did you ask him out?"

"who?" "What do you mean who" "i mean who would I ask out" "the teacher, dumbass"

Hoseok stared at the phone for a solid five seconds

"you don't even know what day of the week it is" "And yet I know you brought the little monster to school, so you've seen him"

For someone who forgets to eat, Yoongi can be really persistent about stuff

"why" he just asks, glancing away from his computer. If anything, he knows Yoongi has little to none interest in his love life by itself

Not after he finished all the people he could set him up, anyway

Including himself

That was so weird that both kinda decided it never happened

So back to the text, Hoseok patiently waited for whatever was the real reason behind such concern

"I may or may not started planning the next book based on whatever vibe you and your lovely teacher give off"

Hoseok shrieked, but just a little

"but you know!!! Most of the time the final product have nothing to do with the beginning!!!" Yoongi continues

Six exclamation point usually mean that he's either lying or trying to convince him of something he didn't actually believe in. So lying, after all.

"and what's the plot" hoseok asks, but then "no, nvm. Don't tell me. Just. Idk. No"

Yoongi didn't reply, but then his editorial instinct won over all his better judgement

"okay, tell me the plot"

Yoongi answer arrived after less then three minutes and it was a shit ton long. He basically already planned everything and all he needed was the main characters

"and they would be me and Kim Taehyung?" Was the only answer Hoseok managed to cave

Because yeah, if life was a written book maybe they could have been the perfect romance

Even by changing some basic stuff - "don't worry you're all idols here" - and making some unrealistic concessions - "your character is the greater dancer of all times" - the way Yoongi was telling the story

A story that didn't exist

makes him want to fall in love for real

But here's the catch: they were real people, and crush on your child's teacher is problematic at best, creepy at worst

So no, he won't be pursuing that. Thank you very much

(but gave yoongi permission to work on the story nevertheless because, you know, it's his job)

And he r e a l l y is set on his mind the day of the meeting after school

Doesn't matter that he exited work early just to go home and shower

And definitely didn't have anything to do with his choice of wardrobe that saw some neat jeans he had brought but never wore and his best fitting pastel red shirt

Along with a leather jacket because what the hell he was still young after all

And if some heads turned to check him out, when he entered the classroom, well. He couldn't blame them

He sat gingerly on his child desk and waited. Mr Kim still nowhere to be seen

Talking about Kim Taehyung

His day started the night before with his housemate that, in order to forget his impossible (only according to him) crush decided to have a drink

And since it would be too sad to drink alone, he had to bring Tae down with him

Little mattered he had to work the morning after and kids were not merciful with headache

He enters the room with the parents with eyes fixed on the floor, trying to remember everything he needed to say and--- oh

Of course Jung Hoseok was there

Of course he was stunning

And of cour-- no wait he was talking to Namjoon? What was he doing here?

Oh right. Mixed classes. His kids and mr Lee were together in this project.

Having the ten years old doing the talking and the eight years old doing the dancing was his idea after all

Mr Lee smiles at him, like the old turtle he was, and sat down, waiting for him to speak

The old turtle seemed frail and sweet but he remembered being a child with him. It was all a play

Which makes him perfect for this project, he guess

So, let's convince the parents he knew what he was doing and what he was talking about despite never producing any school play

It went fairly well for the most of it

Every time he met Hoseok's stare, the other man was smiling, and that made him feel both excited and incredibly shy

But mostly gives him enough confidence at least finish the presentation of the general idea

When parents asked questions - price, time needed, how the parts would have been distributed - he tries to be as clear as he can

And hopes nobody will actually spot how much he still doesn't know

Eventually, the questions are over and the meeting is too, with a copy of the project to take home and a promise to see each other as soon as possible

Tae was putting in order his papers, trying carefully to not perceive either Hoseok nor Namjoon, but of course karma hates him

So a few of his pages fly down the desk, right in front of. Well. Of course Hoseok. Who else

It's not like he could have the worst face in the history of faces and just have his life passing by

No, he had to live his 5-hours-sleep-10-hours-work while wearing his most anonymous clothes and have something less of a Idol staring at his face

Wait

He was staring

He said something

He said absolutely something and Tae was just too far away in his head to hear anything oh my--

"everything alright?" Hoseok asked, and the question clearly triggered Namjoon attention, because he came close too

"ye-what-ye sure. I'm sorry, I must be a bit tired. Hi, Namjoon-ah"

Hoseok smiles at him, but Taehyung makes a weird face at the other man

Well, they clearly knew each other enough to drop some honorifics

Probably wasn't the first time Namjoon came instead of his parents to school stuff like this, Hoseok always knew he was a good big brother

"You did great" the young man says, to which Taehyung smiles a little. Namjoon walks over them but doesn't stop, heading towards the door

"I gotta go now, Hoseok-ssi, see you Tuesday. Tae, see you around"

"Watch your steps" both Tae and Hoseok say, which surprised them, but proved them right when Namjoon bumped into a desk

Then it was only them. And Tae knew it's gonna be awkward really soon.

"so, how you know him?" He asks. Oh, Jungkook babysitter. Makes sense

"and you?"

Taehyung makes a weird face, half displeasure.

"I'll tell you in the parking lot, I'll feel less irresponsible if I'm not at work"

Hoseok felt he has to decline and go straight home

Also stop asking about the private life of his kid's teacher and babysitter

Because that was none of his business

But he was a nice person and nice people listen to what others have to say, right?

[moon-kn1ght]

stay. 

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: mentions of high school, mentions of shrek the musical (i’m sry), fluff, pining, 

A/N: this is for @emmikmil! I’ve had so much fun writing this for you and dropping by your ask box often. I hope you enjoy! thank you to @wyn-dixie for the beta! 

listen to a similarly vibed playlist here || masterlist

“I just don’t get how I was able to spend so much time away from you Marcus!!” you laugh at your friend on the couch next to you, “Eight years later, and your movie commentary is still making me laugh my ass off.” The credits roll on the movie that you two had been watching, and even though the movie had not originally been a comedy, Marcus Pike had made you laugh so much that your abs hurt.

“Now that we’re both in D.C., I can tell you that you’re going to get tired of it. I may be older but my time in the FBI has stunted my humor level back to where it was in high school,” Marcus jeered. His smile had the same youthful exuberance that it did when you two were kids, working for the government hadn’t taken that away yet. His eyes still held that warm kindness that had drawn you to be his friend all those years ago.

You and Marcus were best friends back in your shared hometown of Troy, Ohio. You two had bonded at age fourteen over a desire to get the hell out of your small town. While your friendship was built on a mutual distaste of home, it grew to be much more than that. Your high school years were remembered with moments of utter joy with Marcus by your side.

There were summer adventures into the countryside to find streams to swim in to beat the unbearable heat. There were late night ‘study sessions’ that routinely involved borrowing Marcus’s older sister’s car to go get McDonald’s and sit and talk for hours. You went to every single one of his football games (even though he was third string). And you were there the one game in four years that he was on the field and caught a pass that resulted in a game-winning touchdown.

He was there for your break-out role as the Gingerbread Man in the school’s production of Shrek the Musical. He saw it every night. And he was there when your date to junior-year homecoming didn’t show up, and even though he vowed to not go to a school dance that year, he stepped in as your last-minute date (and funny enough, your original date showed up with a black eye on Monday, but you never heard the details…).

Maybe you’ve been apart for longer than you two actually knew each other, but the friendship that you two shared in those years could have been enough to last a lifetime. Luckily, with both of you now working in D.C., it doesn’t have to be. Maybe now you can experience another lifetime of friendship, but this time as adults.

You have been silent for a moment too long when Marcus interrupts, “Hey, you still here?”

“Sorry, yeah,” you respond. “I was just thinking about how you never told me how my ex-homecoming date, Brian, ended up with a black eye after he stood me up?”

The memory makes him laugh, “That information is on a need-to-know basis.  But what I can say is that conversation was quite helpful to draw on when I was learning interrogation skills at Quantico.”

“I KNEW IT!!” you yelp. You grab the throw pillow from your side of the couch and reel back to playfully hit him with it, but he’s too quick—he reaches and yanks it out of your hands, landing his own solid thwack against your stomach. This elicits a squeal from you, “HEY! Not fair, Mr. FBI. You can’t use your super-agent skills against me, that’s got to be a ground rule.”

“I was only acting in self-defense,” he contends, but releases the offending pillow from his grasp. “But if you insist, I will let you take a retaliatory hit at me, to keep things fair.” 

“Hmmm. Now I don’t trust you, Pike. I’m pretty sure you’re the type that would remember where I’m …” You were going to finish the sentence with the word ‘ticklish,’ but you can see the shift in Marcus’s eyes, meaning he knew the end of your sentence before you said it. He lunges towards you, and you’re able to call out an “OH NO!” before he’s on top of you, hands attacking the spots on your body that, of course, he does remember are ticklish.

Everything devolves into laughter. Radiant joy fills your living room, joy that you haven’t experienced in so long.

When you’re able to squirm away and catch your breath, you release a thought that had been on your mind all night, “Marcus, I missed you. I missed you so much.”

You could live forever in the incredibly tender way that he looks at you.

“I’ve missed you too, Ging” he says, reminding you of your high school nickname that formed from your silly but wonderful role in the musical. Like old times, Marcus can still sense the melancholy that hides behind your smile, “hey, we both did it. We made it out. And now we’ve found each other again. Nothing is going to take you away from me now, friends for life, remember?”

You two hug, and time could stop for all you care.

—X—

“I can’t believe I let you drag me to a Quantico bar!” you grumble humorously as you slide out of the Uber you and Marcus shared back to your place. “I know So Many great bars in D.C. proper, and I let you drag me to the suburbs, just to be ogled by a bunch of middle-aged men in ill-fitting suits. I’m never going to forgive you for this one.”

You both are laughing in earnest at your condemnation of the rather dive-y establishment you both got probably a little too toasted at for a Thursday night. You were right, the place was filled with the Special Agent-type that Marcus worked with every day, which is likely why it was tinted in rose-color in his memory. 

“In my defense, I am not a woman, so how could I…” the words drunkenly tumble from Marcus’s lips. “Wait I take that back, let me rephrase…”

You spin around to shoot lasers into Marcus as his drunk ramble verges on being problematic. You wag your finger at him, “Hey, watch it captain.” He stops in his tracks and you, tipsy as well, step towards him, maintaining eye contact and continuing the silly motion of your finger, until you two are a breath apart.

He doesn’t back up, in fact, he leans into the proximity of your bodies. “Yes ma’am, I’m gonna shut up, I promise,” he blathers. You rest your palms against his chest, fingers grabbing at his wrinkled dress shirt. The alcohol coursing through your veins is giving you a confidence that you weren’t quite ever able to manifest in all those years ago. His hands come up to rest against your upper arms, not pushing you away but also not yet closing the remaining distance between your bodies.

“Yeah, you better. If you don’t, I’ll have to…” your thought stops short from completing as what’s left of your sober brain starts to comprehend how much contact you have with Marcus. Heat and energy pass through each junction of your bodies, his fingers on your arms, your hands against his muscled chest. Were your feet touching too? 

“Or you’ll have to what?” Marcus probes, finally releasing the breath he took in the moment your bodies touched.

His voice prompts you to look up from where you had been staring intently into the wrinkles of his once-pristine dress shirt. His eyes are boring holes into where he’d been staring at your head, desperately waiting for you to do something.

Gods, you want to kiss him so badly right now. You want to kiss him hard and desperate to make up for all the years apart. You want to kiss him soft and tender, so he’ll never leave again.

But what if he doesn’t feel the same way? You can’t destroy this absolutely magnetic friendship that you’ve regained after all these years, just for one kiss. But what if he does feel the same way?

You break away from Marcus. You can feel the energy that’s been coursing through your body from his break as you sever each individual point of contact. You can feel each finger leave the surface of his chest and travel through the suddenly chillier D.C. air. His hands slide down your arms. The last of the contact of your bodies breaks as he squeezes his thumb and pointer finger against your pinky.

“I should go,” Marcus says, fracturing the prolonged eye contact by looking down to the pavement. You look down too, your energy shattered by the sudden loss of contact. “Let’s do this again.” The sound of his voice still holds the joy that filled you both tonight, even as his eyes search the ground for something better to say.

—X—

He always smelled like cedarwood. You can still smell it around you as you close your front door and lean back against it. You know you're going to feel this emptiness tomorrow, a different kind of hangover than the tequila sitting in your stomach threatens you with. 

Suddenly, there’s a knock on the door and you jump out of your disappointment. You look out the peephole and it’s Marcus, fidgeting awkwardly. You open the door, “Hey, did you forget some...” you start to ask but he cuts you off.

“Hey sorry for probably scaring you, but I felt something back there. I don’t know if you felt the same thing, but I was wondering if I could kiss you? And if the answer is no, we can forget …” Now it’s your turn to interrupt him. You grab a hold of his shirt in the same place you held him in the parking lot. You pull against him and he leans down and kisses you.

It’s like something in each of you breaks. A floodgate of emotion opens, channeled through this kiss. Your lips search each other for answers you’ve been longing for since the beginning of time.

One of his hands holds your face, while the other finally roams your body. It’s almost as if he’s charting himself a map, so he’ll never lose you again. It traces down your neck, across your shoulders, phantom fingers on your breasts. You’re not sure if his hand is leaving icicles or flames in its wake, but he has every nerve in your body standing on end.

You break from this kiss, but you don’t travel further than to just murmur against his lips. “Marcus are you sure?” you whisper.

He looks down at you and his eyes shine with more joy than you’d ever seen. You cup his cheek in your hand and all his words, all his ability to profess his love dies in his throat because of the simple gesture. He smiles and nods and whispers your name. You could get used to this, the feeling of his lips on yours and your bodies locked together.

“Let’s stay like this forever,” Marcus says, reading your mind.

“Yes. Forever,” you reply and kiss him again.

fin.

[cerinefalls]

Dinner Date (Kirishima xReader)

Category: Fluff

Word count: 2,733

{Do not repost, please!}

Mina's bottle of fate sat in the center of the 1A circle. Every night this green bottle that she'd grown oh so attached to would pick the chores each dorm-mate would have to complete. Now, it was the third spin. You all knew what that meant;  Dinner! Who was in charge of the food class 1A would consume before their good night's rest?

"And in charge of tonight's dinner is..." Mina paused for dramatic effect, Hagakure patting on the floor to provide a drumroll. At least- you thought it was Hagakure. No one could truly tell the origins of that mysterious noise.

The bottle spun, and spun, and spun, eventually slowing to a stop in front of Kirishima. That was a surprise! Eijiro was the last person you'd expect the 'bottle of fate' to land on for dinner, but here it was! The neck of the bottle pointed straight at him.

"Oh? Haha, guess it's me, then." Kirishima humbly accepted the role, though Mina, your event coordinator, didn't seem to agree.

"Oh no, no, no, no, that won't work." Mina shook her head, yellow eyes landing directly on you before she spoke her next sentence. "Kirishima, you need adult supervision in the kitchen. Since we don't have that..." The rest of class 1A turned to Sato, but Mina stayed focused on you. What was she planning?

"Whaddaya mean, Mina?" Kirishima sounded disappointed- but not shocked.

"You're not to be trusted around a hot stove. Bottle of fate chooses them to monitor you." Mina pointed her finger your way, earning quite a few confused faces from the rest of 1A.

"You didn't even spin! Wouldn't Sato-" Someone from the crowd chimed, but Mina dismissed their concern.

"Sato is a baker, not a babysitter. I trust their supervision more." She backed her opinion, walking by to grab both you and Kirishima by the back of the collar and drag you to the kitchen. It seemed she was dead set in this idea.

"Make sure he doesn't kill us," She requested, closing the door behind her.

The 1A dorm's main kitchen. Not many people went in here normally. Between breakfast and lunch, the school did a good job of making sure everyone was fed. Dinner, on the other hand, was another story.

"Well... what are your plans?" You asked, turning around to spot an impressed Kiri. He was staring at everything with a pleasantly surprised look on his face. Mina was right to send him in here with help. It didn't even look like Kirishima knew what a stove was with how interested he was in its workings.

"This is great!" He beamed. Maybe he did know what to do in here? "I want to make something good for everyone. They all worked hard today. Any ideas?" Had he turned to you for ideas? If anyone would know what this class liked, it was Kiri. You shook your head, not feeling as though you were the best pick for the job.

"Go with your gut choice," You suggested. Kirishima thought for a moment, a confident smile soon tugging at the corners of his lips.

"We need to go to the store." He nodded.

"What?" You were sent with him to stop him from making silly choices. This? This had to be the silliest choice he could've made. "It's after curfew, Kirishima," You reminded him, but it didn't appear he'd heard you.

"We'll be back before dark and feed everyone something they'll enjoy!" He nodded, solidifying his choice. Maybe he thought it wasn't as late as it was? The sun hadn't gone down as early as it usually did, so it wasn't impossible he'd believed that. Oh well, you'd been tasked to watch him, so wherever he went you had to follow and keep him out of trouble. He was smart, so it was unlikely something bad would happen, but it'd be better for two heads rather than one if something went wrong. It wasn't like he gave you much more time to protest, either, because almost as soon as those words left his mouth, the two of you exited the back door.

It was still bright outside- not optimal for sneaking out, but luckily for the two of you, no one noticed as you slipped through the bushes and onto the main road. It was hard to remember how you got past the wall. All you knew was that you'd have to do it again. That could be problematic.

"Almost there," Kiri smiled. He was excited to make everyone happy! You couldn't possibly tell him this might not be a good idea. You didn't have it in you to disappoint him and make him go back. You were nearly there anyway! Surely toughing it out wouldn't be so hard.

The two of you slowly approached what looked to be a strip of shops, each with their lights on. Everywhere was open? Wasn't it late? No time to ask questions, though. Kirishima took your hand into his own as the two of you stepped onto the crosswalk and crossed the road. For someone with a hardening quirk, his hands were shockingly soft. He was noticeably trying his best not to grip too hard, only wanting to guide you to the other side of the street. Once you were safe and across he let you go, which was almost disappointing.

"This is the place!" He smiled, opening the door for you. What you stepped into was nothing you'd expected. It was the most beautiful produce shop you'd ever seen! The walls were lined with a rainbow of fruits and vegetables. From onions and mushrooms to chives and garlic, everything looked fresh and healthy.

"What did you want to get from here?" You asked, following Kirishima down the isle of greens and spices.

"Since everyone's probably tired from training all day, I decided to make them some comfort food. You can't go wrong with ramen!" It was honestly adorable how he'd put so much thought into this, but his answer didn't fully tell you why you were off-campus.

"That's wonderful, Kirishima- but didn't we have everything we needed in the kitchen? I swear I saw a whole pantry of noodles, and there's pork in the fridge." You were trying to understand his thought process. Was there something you didn't have in the dorm kitchen? You could've sworn they stocked each one with everything you'd need.

"Because they thought of everything except for..." Kirishima trailed as he gently took your hand again and lead you past the greens and to the back. Reds. In front of you was a wall of peppers.

"Woah- do you think everyone would be able to handle that?" You asked, concerned.

"Yep! I'm picking something mild enough for even Tokoyami to handle- I think birds get sick if you give them anything too spicy." Kirishima nodded.  He had the right idea... though that line made you laugh harder than you'd like to admit.

Soon enough he'd gotten what he needed and you were heading back to school. The uneasy feeling you'd felt before was returning as you crossed the road. This time around, Kirishima stopped in front of the wooded path and turned to you.

"Your hand is shaking. Are you alright?" He asked, hiking the grocery bag up onto his arm so that he could use his free hand to check your temperature. "You're warm, but no fever." He mumbled to himself.

"Yeah! I'm fine, just..." You started to tell him what was wrong but didn't want to worry him. You trusted him. Kirishima was responsible enough not to get the two of you in trouble, even if it felt like he was about to. Why did you even feel a sense of responsibility for him? It was a random task Mina threw on you, but it felt like you were bound to it.

"Just... what? Do you need to sit down? Were you tired?" It appeared 'trying not to worry him' hadn't gone according to plan. Kirishima led you to the base of the path and sat you down on a bench, hovering over you. He was examining you from head to toe, trying to find what the problem was.

"No, no, really. I'm doing okay, Kirishima." You attempted to reassure him, and he smiled at the effort- but wasn't convinced.

"Are you sure? I can carry you if you aren't okay to walk. Did something scare you? Is it quirk-related?" He went on and on with questions, trying to make sure you were okay. As the sky began to change colors, your unrest only worsened. "Let's get you back as soon as possible. Maybe Momo can make you something." Kirishima resolved, looking up at the amber sky. It was getting late, and he didn't want to cause any problems.

"Yes, let's." You agreed, happy he'd finally started walking again. He was closer to you this time, doing his best to hold you steady as you rushed back to the building. Then, he did something that truly shocked you. He went right up to the gate and walked through! There wasn't a problem at all, and you felt as though something was really wrong.

You stepped back into the dorm's kitchen and sat down on the nearest seat you could find. After letting you catch your breath, Kirishima put down the peppers and walked over to you again, sitting down at your side.

"Okay, you can talk to me. What's up?" He asked.

"Nothing! We're back safe. I'm ok." You replied, doing your best to settle your nerves. You truly hoped there wouldn't be any repercussions for tonight's events.

"I've got it from here. I promise I won't burn down the building. Mina was just overreacting." Kirishima chuckled to himself about that one.  "You go on to bed. I'll bring you dinner when it's done, m'kay?"

"What? No, no, I'm fine! I promise it's-"

"I insist. Go on up to your room! I'll be there to make sure you're better soon." Kirishima aided you in standing and leaving the kitchen. When you stepped out, you were met with copious amounts of stares and whispers. Almost immediately, Mina rushed to your side.

"Where were you! You look like you've seen a ghost! Let me help you to your room." Why was everyone so worried? Did you look that upset? You tried not to let it show,  but it was making sense now that Kirishima hadn't believed you. Maybe you'd let the worry seep into your appearance.

Mina helped you up the stairs and into your room, shutting the door behind her. Oh no, was this a lecture? You sure hoped not. It didn't... look that way, though. Mina just sat on the base of your bed and watched as you got under the covers and relaxed.

"Good. Now you can tell me what happened. We checked the kitchen and neither of you were in there. Was something wrong? Is Kirishima ok? Bakugo was about to -" Her questions would have run on and on had you not stopped her.

"Everything is fine, Mina. He took me to a shop so he could buy something to use for dinner." You explained.

"Then... why did you look so scared when you came back? Jeez, I thought one of the fake scenarios we'd come up with had actually happened." She whined, but she was relieved. Your safety was what class 1A had worried about while you were out, after all.

"I was worried about curfew..." You explained to mina how you'd simply felt anxious about the time. She laughed! Not the reaction you expected, but it was oddly comforting in a way. It almost made you feel like...

"Well, you sure were worried for nothing." Mina giggled. "The time went back last night, silly." Of course! Your clock had stayed the same because it was analog. You'd completely forgotten about the time change with how busy your day had been. Mina couldn't help but continue to giggle at how your face was so quickly relaxed. "I'll tell Kirishima you're alright and take over your shift for you. You rest up."

Time passed slowly as you waited for something to happen. Alone in your room, all you could do was feel a bit dumb at how you'd handled things. The annual time change! How had you forgotten something as crucial as that? No wonder you got past the gates fine- it wasn't nearly past curfew! You felt even worse for doubting your friend. There's no way he'd willingly put you in danger like that. Suddenly, you felt the urge to apologize.

There was a knock at the door. It looked like your chance had come.

"Can I come in?" A familiar voice called, muffled from the shield of your door. It was Kirishima. Just as he'd promised, he came to check on you. Even after Mina told him what had you worried, he still showed up.

"Of course!" You replied, an anxious tightness building in your stomach. You were embarrassed, and you could see by the look on his face when he walked in that Kirishima could tell.

"So, uh... Mina told me why you were so shakey before." He was trying not to laugh as he walked into your room, closing the door with his heel. Kirishima was holding a dinner tray with a bowl of ramen sat atop. Had he really brought you dinner after all this? You were looking at a man of his word.

"Yeah, I'm sorry about all that by the way. I knew you wouldn't do anything to-"

"Get you in trouble?" He interrupted. "I know you trust me, and Mina made it a really big point to tell me in case I didn't, don't worry." Kirishima placed the tray down on your nightstand. You found it a bit odd that he hadn't given it straight to you, but it made sense. You couldn't talk with your mouth full, and it was obvious he had something to say.

"I'm glad I don't have to explain that, then." A nervous laugh escaped the back of your throat as you sat up in bed to talk to him.

"Woah, Woah, Woah, I didn't say that.  I wanna know why you didn't tell me." Kirishima sat crisscross at the foot of your bed directly in line with you, head tilted with curiosity.

"Well, I didn't want you to worry about me or anything. I trusted that you knew what you were doing, so I didn't want to say anything that made it seem like I doubted you." You explained hurriedly. All you wanted to do was let him know you trusted him. "I'm sorry for doubting you- or, for seeming like I did. I was just worried, is all."

"You have nothing to apologize for." Kiri shushed you by waving his hand as if to swat away your statements. He then shot you a smile so friendly only he could have managed to scrounge up. "I wanted to apologize for worrying you. You wouldn't have stressed so  much if I'd just asked you what you said before we left."

"What? Apologize to me? You did an amazing job with dinner and tried to make sure I was okay the whole time you were focused on it. How about I say... thank you?" You suggested, opening your arms and pushing the covers off of you.

It'd taken Kirishima a minute to understand what you were trying to do, but when he did he was more than happy to scoot on over and give you a big hug. A bear hug, if you will. He wrapped his arms around you and you could almost hear his smile through his breath over your shoulder.

"How about I thank you?" He whispered.

"For..?" You questioned.

"Spending all that time with me!" He Smiled, backing away from the hug but not letting you go completely. "Maybe we can go out like that during the day sometime?" Kirishima suggested.

"I think we should." You nodded.

The two of you spent the night chatting and laughing. It was needless to say he'd more than forgiven you. You didn't make him upset at all! Kirishima was just glad you were feeling well. He left you to finish your food in peace, but something told you you'd be seeing him again in the morning.

[luminouspoes]

For the ♛ prompts: 43 and/or 48, pretty please? 😊

prompt: “you’re lucky you’re cute”

warnings: fluff...lots and lots of fluff. no pronouns used for reader.

read on ao3 | drabble list

“There’s one thing I hate more than the First Order,” Poe murmurs as you both take in the scene before you: golden floors and walls, people dressed in gaudy outfits that you can’t begin to imagine how they got into, and the sound of slot machines running wild. “Places like this.”

You’re keen to agree as you tug self-consciously at your own outfit. It was a deep red suit and was the least flashy thing you could find to wear. It hugs you nicely, but you’d forgone the tie or ascot that was supposed to go with it and keep the top few buttons undone so you can breathe. 

Meanwhile, beside you, Poe looks - well, not to borrow a page from Maz’s book, but he looks dashing. He’d dragged out the tux he’d worn to that party he’d crashed with Finn and Suralinda back while you were on Ryloth with the others. He looks good in it, but it’s also surreal to see him in something so fancy. You’ve known him for years, and seeing him out of a flight suit or his favored tunic and leather jackets is a mind-trip.

It’s not a bad different though, no....not at all -

You snap your gaze away from him, cheeks warm. It was an annoying different though. “I don’t like this any more than you do, but...all we gotta do is find the central terminal here, let me do my thing, and then we’re out.” You whisper back to him; another reason for your choice of outfit was the set of slicing tools you needed to hide. You couldn’t take BB-8 on the mission with you, he stood out too much and was too easily recognizable, but you weren’t one of the Resistance’s best hackers for nothing.

“Right,” Poe mutters, splaying his hand on the small of your back as you move through the crowd, “In and out.”

You try to focus on the fountain of champagne you pass, or the dazzling chandeliers or even the catchy song that the live band is playing, but instead all you can focus on is the warmth seeping in through the fabric of your suit as Poe continues to guide you along, not dropping his hand from your back.

It’s your own fault really. The only identification you and Connix had time to whip up for the mission was that of a married couple, so the closeness was necessary. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to lack personal space - Poe was a generally affectionate guy, and you enjoyed the attention - but there was something different about this. You were both away from the Resistance, looking like neither of you usually did, hiding behind guises that were married.

“Over there,” Poe’s voice is barely above a whisper, breath fanning along the shell of your ear as he leans in to avoid being heard by anyone. You follow his line of sight and see a doorway just behind where the live band is playing. It isn’t guarded, but it’s going to be difficult to get in without being spotted by anyone - which would raise some questions.

Your gaze slides back over to Poe, eyes raking over his suit, and you remember your cover story. Or maybe it wouldn’t. You offer him your hand with a flourish, “Dance with me, love.”

Poe’s brow creases in confusion, so you shoot him a go with it expression, and he slowly takes your hand. You lead him to the dance floor, just in front of the stage the band is standing on, and turn to face him expectantly. When he doesn’t immediately move, you lean in and whisper, “You do know how to dance, right?”

He almost looks affronted, “Yes, I know how to dance, but -” he cuts himself off, clearing his throat as he finally settles his hands on your waist. He won’t meet your eyes, which is problematic for your plan, but you swear you see his cheeks darken. Maybe it’s a trick of the light? “What is it that you’re thinking of because you’ve got that look on your face.”

You lean back in mock offense, “What look?”

His eyes finally meets yours and oh the way they make you melt: there’s so much softness in the way he’s regarding you, a light twinkling in those dark eyes that reminds you of starlight. “Like you’re about to drag me into trouble.”

“I do not drag you into trouble,” you protest as Poe finally relaxes a little and you begin to more than just sway to the music as the band revs up the tune. Within seconds, you’re circling each other, holding on by your fingertips, never breaking your gaze, “If anything, you drag me into trouble. It’s practically your thing. I don’t engage unless I’m provoked, y’know.”

You both step back into each other’s gravity. Poe’s eyelids are lowered as you stare up at him, chin up as you silently challenge him to argue the fact. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” he tells you with a laugh. Your jaw goes slack but before you can say anything more, he’s twirling you away from him in time to the music.

When he pulls you back in, you’re not quite ready for it and you stumble into his chest. He catches you gently, one hand on your waist, the other on your shoulder. Maybe it’s because none of this feels real, but you fix him with a smirk, “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because you and I both know that’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told.” 

“Are you saying I’m full of it?” You retort, smiling.

Poe shakes his head, looking heavenward. “What’re you thinking?”

You quickly relay your plan to Poe, chewing nervously on your bottom lip while he takes it in. After a long pause, he nods once, “Alright. If you���re sure about this.”

“I am,” you say, and something burns in the starlight in his eyes.

A few minutes later, the two of you are stumbling through the crowd, laughing and unable to keep each other’s hands off each other. His hand slips inside your jacket, pulling you flush as you walk back towards the door you need, and you begin to question if this really was a good idea because you’re finding it really hard to breathe and your heart feels like it might burst out of your chest -

And then you’re out of view of the dance floor and Poe draws back immediately, leaving you feeling bereft. He looks breathless, but motions at the hallway in an ‘after you’ gesture. You nod shakily, heading off in the direction you assume the control terminal will be. Poe’s one step behind you the entire time, looking behind you every few seconds to make sure no one’s followed you.

The control room is at the end of the hall and the door’s locked. You whip out your set of tools from inside your coat and begin to work on fixing that. It’s so easy you don’t have to think about what you’re doing, muscle memory quickly taking over, and you can’t help but think back to what it was like to have Poe that close, to have been flirting easily with him on the dance floor…

The door slides open with a shick but you don’t put your tools away; you’ll need them to retrieve the data the Resistance needs. You step inside and are surprised to find the room empty. “One locked door is all these guys keep on this stuff?” Poe asks, entering behind you. “With all the credits they’re sitting on?”

You’re already set up at one of the terminals, searching for the records you need. “They probably weren’t expecting their records to get broken into, Poe. Most of their efforts would be centered on a vault...got it!” You quickly transfer the data into a chip and show it to Poe with a flourish, grinning widely. “What’d I say? In and out.”

Poe hums in acknowledgment, offering his hand for you to take. “We’re not out of the woods yet, sweetheart. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.” 

“Sweetheart?” You question as he leads you out of the room. He throws you a smile over his shoulder and counters with, “‘Love?’”

You start to reply but you crash into Poe’s back before you can, since he stops abruptly and you hear him mutter, “Dammit.” You can barely get a look around him to catch a glimpse at the approaching guard before he’s pushing you the opposite way, past the records room and further down into the twisting hallway.

Which, of course, leads to a dead end.

“Great,” you say, throwing your hands up. “Any other ideas?”

Poe looks around, but there aren’t any rooms around for you to hide inside. Then he goes still and slowly turns on his heel to face you, expression apologetic. “Just one, but you’re not gonna like it.”

You narrow your eyes, “What are you - oh,” you choke out when he very pointedly looks at your lips. You fix your mouth wordlessly a few times, but the growing noise of the guard’s footsteps snaps you out of your trance, “Do it.”

He crosses to you quickly, but as he moves into your space, Poe hesitates a little. Then, he’s cupping your jaw with one hand and the other is on your hip pulling you close, and his mouth meets yours. 

You slide a hand around his neck, pulling him down closer to you. He guides you backward til your back presses against a wall, and he draws your bottom lip into his mouth. You respond by tugging lightly on his curls, which draws out a low hum from him that sends goosebumps along your arms. He squeezes your hip, fingertips meeting bare skin from where your button-up had ridden up from stretching up to meet him, as he aligns your bodies better together -

“Hey! This corridor’s off-limits, find somewhere else to do that.”

You break apart, but Poe doesn’t step back from you as he twists to nod at the guard, “Sorry, man. We’ll just finish this up back on our ship. C’mon, sweetheart.” His voice is rough as he proffers you his hand. You take it, managing to fix the guard with what you hope is an apologetic smile.

As you dart around the corner, you hear the guard mutter something about lovebirds, but you do your best to ignore it, even though all you can focus on is how seconds ago, you were kissing your best friend - and how real it felt.

Without meeting his gaze, you say, “You were wrong, by the way. I did like it.”

[oof-big-oof]

ACOTAR and Setups Part II: Tamlin and Rhysand

SPOILERS: ACOTAR series (and Macbeth too ig)

Part 1: Feyre

In "Macbeth", Macbeth and Banquo are narrative foils to each other. While Banquo is loyal to the king and uses language of growth and imagery of nature when he speaks, the traitor Macbeth's words are full of references to destruction, fire, and unholy happenings. Foils are not just good ways to explore character traits, but also excellent for setting up conflicts and exploring the thematic concerns of the world.

I think it's safe to say Tamlin and Rhysand are foils. They have opposing imagery (spring, flowers and sun for Tamlin, winter, snow and night for Rhysand) and always stand in opposition to each other when it comes to Feyre's narrative, switching in and out of being the "bad guy" and the "good guy". But the way this is handled is .... eh.

I'm going to look at shifts in Feyre, Tamlin and Rhys that work of this foil - and try to look for when and how they were set up.

1. Feyre's shift - TW: discussions of abuse, mental health issues

In the first book, Tamlin is a source of protection and love for Feyre. But by the second book, Feyre is not only struggling with her PTSD but has begun to realise that life at the Spring Court as a dolled up accessory might not be for her. By the end of the book, she has found her place in the Night Court - by Rhysand's side. And honestly? Go girl! Go live up to your potential!

The problem arises with how this is done - that is, Sarah J Mass never does the brunt work of showing us why Feyre cares. It is plausible she is motivated by a desire to protect the human lands, but we never actually see that. There isn't a moment where she realises she needs to work for a greater good, or a moment she realises that she needs to protect those more vulnerable than her - instead, the narrative has her tolerating abuse until she finally has had enough.

Which is great. I have got to admit that I really like the explicit rejection of a happily ever after storyline for Feyre because it took away her agency. But we get this radical shift in character motivation from wanting to be protected and comfortable with those she loves to desiring agency and understanding of herself in two lines:

"The girl who had needed to be protected and who had craved stability and comfort... she had died Under the Mountain"

and

"I didn't know how to go back to those things. To being docile"

hhhhhh. I mean - if you have to say it that explicitly, you're already doing something wrong. But also, why? We never see Feyre struggling with herself in her new body, and wondering why she does not want the same things as she did when she was a human, never see an impetus point for when her desires shifted.

But honestly? I don't mind Feyre's arc. I think it's a bit confused and lacks clarity or intent, and as a result, it is harder to root for her because you don't quite know what she wants, but I think it's still quite good. Where I really have problems are with Tamlin ad Rhys.

2. Tamlin - TW: discussions of abuse, mental health issues

I am not a fan of Tamlin's arc. You could argue that it is part of the thematic message of the series: that things are not as they seem. Tamlin is the wolf to the savour to the abuser, Rhysand is the "most beautiful man " Feyre had ever seen to Amarantha's monster to Feyre's eventual mate. But - the constant twists are unnecessary, more importantly, they and have little to no foreshadowing and just seem like retcons- making it seem as if they are there to keep the audience guessing rather than genuine plot progressions. This becomes even more obvious when the series abandons its core theme of "appearance vs reality" altogether, and as a result loses a lot of its cohesion: a direct consequence of having a bad setup.

His reason for doing the abusive things he does is conveyed to us in two lines, in the same monologue that Feyre's motivation is:

"Tamlin had gotten his powers back, had become whole again - become that protector and provider he wished to be"

Sure. He was much more powerful than Feyre when they first met, so I am having a hard time buying it is the return of the powers that his making him act this way. We know that his actions come from a genuine desire to protect Feyre - this is the guy that was willing to sacrifice his life multiple times and the future of his entire court to keep her safe. The only justification we have left then for the way he acts is that his PTSD, borne out of the trauma and torture he underwent and watched Feyre undergo changed him in some way.

This is why the endless villainizing of Tamlin makes me really uncomfortable. While it is true that the abused can become the abuser, and figuring out how to help them while protecting yourself is something that absolutely needs to be discussed and explored - the way it is done with Tamlin is horrendous because he is never given a chance to heal. Instead, he is thrown from plot point to plot point, an eternal punching bag for the Inner Circle and others to seem morally superior in front of.

And his treatment of Feyre is just weird. If he's so concerned about her safety - why does he not wake up when she has nightmares? Is he instead trying to pretend like everything is okay - if so why does he give Feyre an escort of guards? If his core motivation is protecting Feyre at all costs - why does he lash out at her?? And the text really tries to tell us how to feel about him in this regard, but it doesn't do it very well. For example, take the scene where Tamlin says "There is no such thing as a High Lady". Feyre a second before expressed her desire not to take on any responsibility, and Tamlin responded with this - and the text really makes us want to hate him for it, but all you can see is a person who is perhaps not the best at reading subtext trying his best.

In conclusion - Tamlin's shift to the villain of the narrative is hamhanded and underexplained, making it hard to genuinely hate him, and further confusing the narrative.

3. Rhys the foil gets the girl - TW: discussions of abuse, sexual assault mental health issues

Rhysand in the first book is interesting - he clearly has a heart and a soft spot for Feyre but is also a schemer with dubious motives that drugs and sexually harasses Feyre. There are places in the set up where we understand he cares - but never where we can begin to see he might be a genuine paragon of virtue.

And I will address this more in my post on ACOMAF, but the point I am trying to make here is: we are told through the constantly opposing imagery that Rhys and Tamlin are wolds apart - but never actually given examples of how. Rhys is said to be different from Tamlin because he respects Feyre's choice - but he drugs her in a bunch of weird scenes (that serve no clear narrative purpose by the way - like what was he trying to achieve? why he couldn't he just let Feyre in on that part of the plan?) and withholds information from her about life-threatening situations. Rhys is said to pull less rank - but we multiple times see others defer to him, especially in later books, and never actually see rank being enforced in Tamlin's court with his treatment of Lucien (many times described as his partner, and openly questioning him) and later Ianthe. Rhys is said to have less archaic laws in opposition to Tamlin's Tithe - but he abandons the Court of Nightmares to the monsters who rule it, and never takes serious actions against the Illyrian people who clip of women's wings, and a lot of Tamlin's idea of racial superiority and general superiority just come completely out of left field in the middle of ACOMAF.

Both of them are problematic - it's just that the text tells us to root for one, without actually showing us how one is better, or setting up any clear ideological difference between them. And that cheapens Feyre's character shift and lessen the efficacy of the foil - turning it into Feyre hopping from one lover to the other with little to no character consistency and no nuanced exploration of the theme of the series or trauma.

[happyandticklish]

I Want To See You Smile - Part One

Notes: I decided to write something for the Gorillaz fandom, because I have fallen suddenly back into obsession over the band and needed to get it out of my system. I also would like to add that the fic holds some problematic themes concerning abuse, and that I am both aware of these themes and am working through them carefully. That being said, I hope you all enjoy! 

Summary: After a fateful encounter one day, Murdoc finds himself addicted to tickling his bandmate and doesn’t know why. 2D’s adorable reactions certainly aren’t helping. 

Murdoc wasn’t sure what was wrong with him. His face was flushed, his head was spinning, his heart was jackhammering wildly in his chest; all this from a chance encounter in the living room.

Maybe he was dying. He would have preferred that, honestly, to whatever the fuck this was.

He had discovered 2D’s body sprawled out lazily on their beaten up couch, gangly limbs thrown haphazard over its surface. In one of Murdoc’s hands was a bottle of something toxic he had just conjured up in the kitchen and in the other a journal in which he had planned to write either lyrics or obscene drawings in—he hadn’t quite decided which. Still, he couldn’t do either with the blue-haired idiot dozing off and claiming all the available seating space.

“Hey,” he said, slanting his eyes down in annoyance. “Dents. Move it.”

2D mumbled something indistinguishable in his sleep, but otherwise didn’t move. Murdoc frowned. He must really be out of it. Still, Murdoc had a mission and he wasn’t about to give up on it now. He leaned down, gripping his sides for a handhold as he attempted to shove him off. As he did, however, 2D shifted and squirmed under his touch, one hand unconsciously coming down to shove his hand away. Murdoc ignored him, readjusting his grip and tugging at his limp form. This time 2D let out a sleepy giggle, swatting at his hands once more.

“Stop,” he muttered incoherently. “It tickles.”

Murdoc’s eyes widened with realization. Ah. So that’s why he’d been acting so weird. He started to move his hands away, when an idea occurred to him—another way to get him to move. He smirked, keeping his hands on hips and squeezing with more purpose this time.

“C’mon 2D,” he teased in a low whisper. “I need to get on this couch.”

2D was moving more now, soft, breathy laughs echoing from his vocal chords, still not fully awake yet. If he was this ticklish asleep, Murdoc couldn’t imagine what he would be like awake. He squeezed again and again, poking and prodding at this one spot on his hips that had 2D spazzing. Finally, 2D’s eyes fluttered open and his frown of confusion quickly turned into a silly grin at the sensations dancing upon his skin.

“M-Muhuds?” he asked, furrowing his eyebrows in confusion. “W-Whahat are yohou d-dohoing?”

“Getting you to move.”

“C-Cohouldn’t yohou h-hahave juhuhust ahahasked mehehe?”

“Eh. This was more fun.”

2D groaned sleepily, tired giggles slipping out unwarranted. That one spot on his hips, pursued relentlessly, was quickly becoming unbearable and his hands came down again to shove Murdoc off. Unfortunately, his grip wasn’t strong enough and he held onto Murdoc’s wrists uselessly. “Hehehe, ahaha, muhuhuds!”

“Hmm?”

“Ihihit—” 2D broke off, the tickling spiking suddenly and prompting a squeak from the man. “Ihihit tihihickles!”

“Does it now?” Murdoc teased, scratching his nails against the soft divot of skin contained there. “Well that’s quite an unfortunate situation, isn’t it?”

“Ah! Ohohohokay, ohohokay, I’ll mohohove!” 2D agreed eagerly, shoving desperately at his hands.

“Nah, I think it’s a bit too late for that now.” Murdoc hoisted a leg over him on the couch so he was no effectively straddling the other. “I’m having too much fun to stop now, and I think you need to learn your lesson about listening right away.”

 “Buhuhut yohou dihihidn’t ahahask—ahaha, nohohoho, ehehe, stahahap!”

2D fell into quick hysterics as Murdoc began ruthlessly pursuing his hips now, one hand on either side. 2D scrabbled fruitlessly to shove his hands off and when that failed he resorted to frantic squirming and writhing underneath him instead. “Wow, dents,” he muttered with a sarcastic leer. “I didn’t realize you were this sensitive. I’ll have to remember this for the future.”

“Stahaha—ahaha, ehehe, nohoho! Ihihi tihihickles tohohoo muhuhuch!” 2D’s laughter soon became a breathless stream of giggles, interspersed with hiccups here and there as he fought to control his body’s reactions. As Murdoc watched him, a strange flush began to creep its way up his neck and his stomach writhed with unexplained nerves. This was different from all those times he had tormented 2D in the past. This was something new and altogether unnerving, and Murdoc didn’t like it one bit. But even as he was tempted to stop, the sight of 2D begging and laughing under him was too appealing to quit now.

“You know, I distinctly remember Noodle being veeeery ticklish here when she was younger.” Murdoc secured one of his wrists in his hands, dragging it far above his head. “I wonder if it’s the same for you.” 

2D’s eyes widened and his struggling increased, giggling apprehensively as Murdoc’s fingers wiggled towards his defenseless pit.

“No, no, please, wait, no mohoHOHOHohore!”

2D shrieked when his fingers finally made contact, tugging frantically at his trapped arm. The other arm did its best to try to fend Murdoc off, but he would simply switch to a different spot until 2D moved to protect there instead; the second he did, however, Murdoc would simply move back to his underarms and the cycle would repeat once more.

Red-faced, writhing and babbling out incoherent pleas, 2D was quite a sight. Murdoc found himself so caught up in it that he hadn’t realized how intense he had gotten until 2D let out a frantic shriek and finally pulled his arm free. The sound snapped Murdoc out of his haze and he quickly rolled off the other, head spinning.

2D curled up on the couch, residual laughter spilling from his lips as he fought to regain some semblance of coherency. He gripped his torso protectively, skin tingling from the overload of sensation. “Hah… ha… ehehe… w-whahat was that?”

Murdoc had no answer, only that he needed to leave for fear of tickle jumping the poor man again. So instead he merely grunted, snatching up his alcohol and journal and stalking out the doorway, trying with everything in him to get the image of 2D in that helpless, strangely appealing state out of his head. 2D watched him go, confusion and leftover bliss swirling over his features.

Murdoc would have been happy to write that moment off as a one-off mess-up, a momentary lapse in judgement, had it not happened again after that. And again. And again. Every time he saw 2D, which was often when the band was squished together as it was, all he could think about was digging his fingers into his sides if only to hear that adorable yelp again.

His excuses were getting weaker as time went on, as well. “Wait, no, please!” 2D pleaded, noticing the fateful smirk on the other’s face as he backed him up against the wall. He had messed up some lyric or another during rehearsal, which at this point was all the justification Murdoc needed. The others looked on in confusion as 2d quickly fell into hysterics, Murdoc pinning him against the wall with his onslaught of tickling.

“Guhuhuys!” 2d cried, giggling wildly as Murdoc poked fingers rapid-fire into his sides. “Hehehelp m-mehehe!”

“Hey Murdoc, don’t you think we should leave him alone now?” Noodle asked hesitantly. “It wasn’t really his fault—we all mess up lyrics from time to time.”

“Lyrics?” Murdoc snapped, before remembering his original reasoning for the attack. “Yeah, well, this way he’ll learn not to do it again.”

Noodle frowned but otherwise did little to help him. It wasn’t until Russel placed a hand on his shoulder that Murdoc finally backed off. “We should probably get back to practice,” he said firmly, a warning note to his voice. Murdoc scoffed, releasing the other and letting 2D crumple to the ground in a trembling ball of nerves.

“Yeah, whatever,” he muttered, sitting back down and picking up the bass. “Let’s just get this damn song over with already.”

For every grievance imaginable, throughout the course of that strange and confusing month, 2D would find himself reduced to a squirming mess of limbs at the hands of none other than Murdoc Niccals—spent too long in the shower, called him a name, wasn’t fast enough when Murdoc asked him to get out of the way, finished the last of the potato crisps. Small, unpreventable things that ultimately Murdoc only cared about because it provided such ample excuse to wreck the other.

Over the course of that month, Murdoc also spent sufficient time trying to figure out the reason for his growing obsession. Each time he thought about it, however, a hot blush crept up his neck and a world of voices screamed at him inwardly what are you doing? He didn’t know. He didn’t know what it meant, nor why it was only tickling 2D in this way that made him feel like this. He hadn’t ever experienced anything like this in the past. Sure, he had teased and poked a couple of the girls and guys he’d dated in the past, but it was always quick, fleeting touches that ended almost instantly—just something to get a reaction. Now though, it was clearly something different. The sight of 2D shrieking and writhing under him made his body react in a way that was altogether different from how you would with your platonic bandmate whom you despised.

One night he got so fed up thinking about it that he decided to give up on sleep and head out to the kitchen to make himself something to take the edge off.

Who should he find but the man of the hour himself, the blue-haired bean pole, standing at the sink and pouring himself a glass of water.

As soon as he noticed Murdoc’s presence behind him 2D startled, quickly shutting off the faucet and edging away from him. “Oh hey, muds,” he greeted, that nervous, finnicky smile already taking over his features. Murdoc jammed his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t do anything.

“What are you doing up so late?” he grumbled, shoving past him and reaching for the various bottles of liquor littered over their countertop.

“Just getting a glass of water,” he replied cautiously. Murdoc simply grunted in response. Watching him cautiously, 2D continued to slink towards the doorway. He paused at the exit, however, hand on the doorframe. He curled his fingers in hesitation, before quickly whirling around to face the other once more.

“Aren’t you gonna…” 2D started before breaking off his sentence, clearly embarrassed.

Murdoc turned to face him, tossing back a glass of tequila—definitely not midnight appropriate, especially when he had to be up at the crack of dawn tomorrow for rehearsal. “Aren’t I gonna what?”

“You know…” 2D trailed off, blushing, before awkwardly wiggling his fingers a little as a demonstration.

That same, creeping red returned to his face and Murdoc stiffened. Still, he wasn’t about to let the little upstart get the upper hand, so he said, leaning back on the counter with fake confidence, “Why? Do you want me to?”

“No, but, I mean, not entirely—” 2D stopped himself, clearly thrown for a loop. “I just meant that usually you… you know, do that. Are you… not going to anymore?”

For some reason it hadn’t occurred to Murdoc that 2D would pick up on this recurring habit of his. To have it stated so bluntly was certainly a shock to his system. The two stood in that tiny kitchen, an uncomfortable energy in the air as the silence between them increased. Murdoc tongued the inside of his cheek, debating how to phrase his next sentence.

Before he could, 2D spoke up for him. “I don’t… uh, I don’t mind, that is.” He spoke cautiously, waiting for Murdoc to snap at him or throw something. When he did neither, 2d continued, “I prefer it, over the other stuff. Also it’s… it’s sort of fun, in a way.”

Murdoc slowly sat down his liquor bottle, narrowing his eyes at the other. “Are you saying you like it when I tickle you?”

2D shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Sort of? I mean, it gets sort of intense sometimes, but even that’s, uh—” He pressed his lips together, evidently deciding that whatever he would have said next would only make the situation worse. “I liked it, yeah. Whenever you’re, you know, tickling me, I sort of get the feeling that you like doing it. Which in a way makes it feel like you enjoy spending time with me and that’s… nice.”

Murdoc stared at him. The confession was so brutally honest in a way that only 2D could ever pull off. For some reason, that made him angry. He took a couple steps forward and 2D instinctively scuttled backwards. “Listen. I don’t tickle you because I ‘like spending time with you’, or whatever it is you’re going on about. I was doing it because—” he broke off, sneering at his own verbal incompetence. The real reason, the reason why he couldn’t get the image of 2D laughing, 2D happy, out of his head for weeks on end, floated at the edges of his consciousness. He chose to ignore it, as he did most things that made him uncomfortable. “I did it because I fucking wanted to, alright? And it has nothing to do with you or any kind of bond you think we’ve built. I do what I like, and your job is to shut the fuck up and leave me be, got it?”

2D matched his intense glare, face darkening. Where before there had been fear in his face, now there was only resignation. “Yeah. Got it.”

He snatched his water off the table, nearly fumbling and dropping it. Luckily, he managed to catch it just in time, though not without some leftover embarrassment. His drink retrieved and his smooth exit ruined, he proceeded to stalk moodily out of the kitchen.

The second he was gone Murdoc exhaled shakily, all the fight going out of his limbs. He leaned back against the counter for support, slowly sinking down to the ground. The cold linoleum felt good against his bare skin, and he chose in that moment to forget about all the crumbs and grime most likely littering the floor.

He rubbed his heels against his temples, replaying the conversation over and over again in his head like some kind of broken record player. Which in a way makes it feel like you enjoy spending time with me… It was stupid. Murdoc had never cared about the other man’s opinion before.

So why did those words make him feel like crying?

[imaginesupply]

Sore backs and tented shorts, or  The one where Tom gets a massage

Tom Hiddleston x Reader one-shot 

It’s been ages since I’ve written anything and I’m feeling a bit rusty but inspiration just hit and my three remaining braincells - who’ve survived the current heatwave so far - came up with this smutty filth. 

I hope you’ll enjoy! Let me know what you think :) (It’s proofread but it seems by ability to spot typos and mistakes rises by 200% percent as soon as I hit post.)

Word count: About 2.6k

Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), improper uses of the word ‘God’ and unrealistic descriptions of massages. 

---

Tom stretched, trying to pop the knots on his back, as he sat down to rest between scenes. Maybe he was getting old, too old for this, Tom pondered for a second before mentally slapping himself on the face. Who was he kidding? Loki was a role he'd never give up on, as in never ever. 

So if that meant performing the various stunts himself for authenticity's sake and suffering through it, he would do it, without complaining.

He stretched once more, giving the battered script one last read before getting ready to shoot the next scene of the series.

The camera crew adjusted the filming angles while the make up artist powdered his face, making sure there was no excessive shine to his skin. Loki would certainly not break a sweat running away from a building he himself set on fire and throwing himself on the ground with a grin just a second before it all exploded. 

Yes, Loki would undoubtedly be grinning in that situation, Tom reckoned. The human, however, tried not to flinch as he realised he'd have to run and throw himself on the mattress with all his strength, again and again. The mattress was certainly softer than the ground they'd CGI into the scene, but his body was also certainly more breakable than Loki's.

One hour later, Tom was spent. Letting himself collapse on the blue stunt mattress, he was relieved that everyone had finally agreed that the take had been perfect - the grin, the hair, the elegance. The only thing he wanted now was to hurry home and sleep. Maybe he could ever delay his shower to the next morning if he changed the sheets upon waking up, he negotiated with himself.

"Hey, you okay?" 

Tom opened an eye only to find Kate crouched over him, a frown obscuring her features. "Yeah, I'm just feeling a little worn down, that's all."

Kate nodded to herself. For a second she felt guilty she was asking too much of him, but then they'd both agreed that they wanted the series to be perfect, whatever it took. "You were great back there."

His eyes were already closing again and he only nodded noncommittally. "Anyway, I suggest you go take a shower. The message therapist I booked for you is already setting up."

Tom sat up in a flash, his back protesting the movement. "That's very kind but I'm alright, no need for-"

"Be ready in ten minutes unless you want to be late," Kate interrupted him, challenging his British punctuality. He opened his mouth again, but she waved him off, knowing what he was going to say. "Bobby has been fed and walked. He's lying outside right now with part of the crew, enjoying the last sun rays of the day." 

Tom cursed internally and got up, feeling outsmarted. This was not something he was looking forward to but he'd be damned if he showed up late.

"Also, this will be routine until we finish shooting." Kate added quietly before running off.

--- Water droplets ran down his back as he stepped out of the shower, a white towel wrapped low around his hips. Sighing, he cleaned some of the fog on the mirror with his hand and then proceeded to tumble dry his black hair before adding some nourishing product to it. 

It was only then that he remembered he had no change of clothes with him, more specifically underwear, since he always preferred showering at home. Contemplating his clothes on the back of the chair, he concluded that he didn't have many options unless he wanted to put on the boxers briefs he had worn all day or go nude. Tom chuckled to himself at the latter thought, already imagining a young male therapist telling him to take his English countryside back over the pond. Deciding not to make the person he'd have to see for the next month uncomfortable on the very first day, Tom pulled on the black running shorts he had worn to set that morning, going commando underneath.

--- 

One minute late, Tom knocked on the door to the infirmary. 

"Come on in." A voice replied. A feminine voice to be exact. Not what he had expected.

Obeying the lady, Tom opened the door and let himself in, his eyes landing on his new massage therapist for the very first time. Clearly not what he had expected. Tom swallowed, using his acting skills to appear nonchalant even as he subtly - or at least, as subtly as was possible in such small quarters - eyed the woman in front of him. 

Her hair was tied back in a neat ponytail, revealing the elegant curve of her neck. She was wearing a tight fitting white t-shirt with equally white yoga pants. A look of purity all in all though it had his mind immediately wandering to the realms of exquisitely impure thoughts.

"Hi! I'm (Y/N). Nice to meet you, Tom," she introduced herself, stretching out her hand for him to shake. "Oh! Do you mind me calling you Tom? I can also go for Mister Hiddleston if you prefer."

Tom suppressed a groan, there was always something about being called that that got his mind spinning. Chastising himself, he shook her hand, flexing his biceps more than was necessary. Her hand was soft and warm and small, exactly what he needed. "Nice to meet you, (Y/N). Please do call me Tom. We'll be seeing each other quite a lot after all."

She nodded, smiling kindly before telling him to lie down on the massage table. Tom noticed that it was in fact surprisingly wide, but didn't think much of it. Maybe Kate was right, he needed this. His body undeniably did and if he were honest, he had been craving the touch of another human, feeling rather lonely as of late. Most of his friends were back in London, and those that weren't, were still too far away. As for a different kind of touch, a woman's company to be more exact, he couldn't remember the last time he had being blessed with it either. Definitely before Atlanta, he concluded. 

He barely heard her move around, her naked feet making little to no noise on the floor. "We will do a combination of deep tissue and Thai massage today, so that I can determine your problem areas for the next time."

Tom was in fact aware of a very problematic area of his but decided to spare her the dirty joke. He just didn't realise quite yet how problematic that area was in fact going to become.

(Y/N) came to a stop in front him, he could feel her presence as she warmed the oil between her palms before finally gliding her hands over the skin of his back. Tom couldn't help the pleasurable hum that escaped his lips as she started working out the knots on his back, some of them loosening under her touch with an audible crack that had her chuckling. God, even her voice was perfect. Dozing off was becoming more and more tempting to Tom, his eyelids feeling heavier than ever when she bent forward over his body to reach farther down his back. He felt her breasts press against him as she did so, the back of his head suddenly encompassed between them. Yes, there was the bra and then that pesky t-shirt between her chest and his skin but his body didn't seem to care. Not even one bit.

Clenching his teeth, Tom felt blood rush down to his once again problematic area. The fact that his dick was squished under him only served to make the situation all the more uncomfortable. Tom groaned, wether from arousal or frustration, he wasn't sure.

"Are you okay, Tom? Did I hurt you?" (Y/N) asked with concern. 

Tom swallowed nervously. "No, don't worry. Your hands feel great."

She moved away from him, the weight of breasts gone and he breathed out in relief. That is, until he heard her climb onto the massage table with him.

What the-? It was then that he remembered what a Thai message entailed from a vague conversation he'd once had with Ben and Sophie.

Before he could come up with a way to get out of this... predicament, (Y/N) straddled his hips and all but sat down on his butt. His cock immediately reacted to change in pressure.

"You've got quite a knot here," she explained, softly rubbing her fingers near his spine, about halfway up his back. "I'm going to try and break up the knotted tissue. Tell me if it hurts too much."

It did hurt, the way the heel of her hand pressed against the sensitive area. But it definitely didn't hurt enough to kill his arousal. If anything, it made it worse with the way he felt her weight shift above him whenever she moved. Instead of relaxing, he was only growing more tense. 

As Tom felt precum bead on his glans as she climbed off of him, having him feel equally disappointed and relieved when she went to work on his legs.

Her hands felt heavenly, sometimes painfully heavenly, as they moved over his calves. Not that it is eased his arousal, but Tom was confident that the massage was almost done and he'd soon be able to climb into the shower again and use the opportunity to wank himself to an orgasm. 

He'd certainly think of her as he'd stroke his shaft later, imagining she was there with him. Water running down her body, rendering her obscene white t-shirt transparent, her nipples visibly pebbling even behind two layers of fabric. His cock seemed to enjoy his fantasy as well, now so hard that Tom seriously started considering rubbing himself on the towel draped over the table to find some relief.

His thoughts were interrupted when she moved over his knees, to his his thighs. Her delicate fingers folding back his shorts to reveal more of his legs. Tom jerked suddenly, trying to hide his erection from her hands and crushing it under his belly in the process. He winced. 

Undoubtedly sensing Tom was tensing up again, (Y/N) made quick work of his thighs. Maybe he was a bit shy and didn't like being touched there, she reckoned, shrugging to herself to hide her disappointment. She'd always enjoyed her job, finding satisfaction in other people's well-being. But massaging Tom Hiddleston? She would have done it for free (don't tell her boss!).

"Please turn around, Tom." She said softly after finishing up the back of his legs

He startled. "What?!" Came his terrified voice. 

(Y/N) frowned. "Can you please lie down on your back now? So that I can work on your chest and the front of your legs."

Tom stilled, silently panicking. "That won't be necessary. It's quite late and I'm feeling much better already."

"Nonsense. I won't leave you unfinished," she protested, his cock twisting her words. "Besides, my boss would kill me if she ever found out I left a client halfway through a massage."

His jaw clenched. He was torn between two equally bad options, but in the end, he inner gentleman couldn't stand to be the one to jeopardise her job.

Slowly, Tom turned around on the table, still hoping that his erection wouldn't be as noticeable as it felt but the tent in his shorts was impossible to hide, sticking straight up to the ceiling.

She stared at his face curiously, observing his reddening cheeks before lowering her gaze. "Oh," she gasped.

Somehow, part of him had hoped her reaction would have been less shocked and perhaps a bit more pleased. As it was, she just stood there like that and he threw his forearm over his eyes, hoping it would lessen the embarrassment. It didn't.Sighing, he made a move to get up, hesitating whether he should apologise before leaving or if that would only make things worse.

The weight shifted on the massage table as she climbed on top, joining him on the soft padding.

Instantly, Tom lifted his head off the pillow, holding himself up on his forearms, bewilderedly watching Y/N as she knelt between his legs. "What are you doing?" He asked, his voice croaky, his eyes glued to her décolleté which the neckline failed to hide in this position. 

She looked up at him slowly, coyly, though her grin was nothing if not provocative. "Hoping to release all tension in your body," she replied, her tongue peeking through as her hands went to his hips, thumbs drawing circles over his shorts. "If you'll let me, that is." 

Tom swallowed audibly, almost expecting her to throw her head back and start laughing. But she never did. Instead, she sat back on her haunches, waiting for him to consent. "God. Yes, please!" He breathed out, his British accent growing thicker.

(Y/N) licked her lips, fingers working behind her head to tighten her ponytail. "Now that's more like it, Mister Hiddleston."

Without missing a second, she bend forward, lowering her face to place a kiss on his stomach, just below his belly button. Tom's muscles tensed in response, already looking forward to what was to come.

He struggled between the desire to watch and the impulse to lean back and simply enjoy. She made the decision for him, her hand pressing down on his sternum before moving her attention back to his groin.

Tom hissed as he felt her lips kiss the head of his cock through the lightweight fabric. His body suddered, his cock throbbed and she chuckled. (Y/ N) repeated the process a few more times, enjoying the teasing. Then, she moved her fingers to the elastic waistband and pulled his shorts down, grazing his buttocks with her nails. 

His cock sprang free, hitting his lower stomach a couple of times and Tom already felt a drop of precum slide down from the glans to his belly button. (Y/N) surprised him, first neglecting his weeping cock in favour of his balls, sucking them into her mouth one after the other, teasing them with the tip of her tongue.

Tom groaned her name, squirming beneath her and thrusting up. With a smile, (Y/N) decided to give in. She traced the tip of her nose along his length until reaching the head and then wrapped her tongue around the glans, teasing the frenulum. Tom moaned loudly 

He felt her hand wrap around the base of his cock before she took him in her mouth, as much as would fit. Instantly, his hand settled on the back of her head, caressing instead of pushing. "Just like that, darling."

She took to humming around his length, intermittently sucking in her cheeks and Tom started feeling the telltale tightening in his groin faster than he should. His hand gripped her ponytail harder, alerting her but her movements didn't slow. Tom propped himself up on his elbows, groaning at the sinful sight of debauchery in front of him.

"I'm close," he managed to warn her through clenched teeth. (Y/N) looked up at him, never halting her movements and the mischievous look she addressed him revealed that she knew exactly what she was doing.

Tom dug his heels against the padding of the table, canting up his hips and thrusting up in her mouth as his orgasm washed over him. (Y/N)meticulously sucked him clean, swallowing down rope after rope of his cum whilst humming around him.

"God, (Y/N). That was..." For once he was left without words, still dizzy with pleasure in the aftermath of his orgasm.

She licked his cum off her lips, taking in the sight in front of her with a smile, acutely aware of her own arousal. Tom's chest was flushed, heaving as he fought to regain his breath, his eyes still closed.

It was only then that she realised what she had done. She had blown Tom Hiddleston - a client.