#they’re just *clenches fist* so sexy stealing things

[hlficlibrary]

HL Fic Library 🌸 Short Fics

(Part One - Under 5k)

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🌸 Stealing Flowers by @lululawrence {NR, 4k}

When Louis finally arrived, he walked in and grabbed an apron. Without even saying hello, he immediately approached Jesy and said, “Sexy Stranger steals flowers.”

She kept pouring the Tanqueray shots she had lined up in front of her, but her face screwed up in confusion. “I’m sorry, he what? Did you finally talk to him and that was what you learned?”

He nodded to another couple of tourists and welcomed them to the Way Station as they eagerly made their way to the Tardis restroom.

“No, I didn’t actually talk to him, but—”

“Then how do you know he steals flowers?”

She was wiping down the bar and stacking the empty glasses to take back to the dishwasher when Louis realized maybe he should help too. After all, he was there to work, not just talk to her about his maybe crush.

“I saw a poster.”

Or the one where Louis pines after the Sexy Stranger on the Subway and almost asks him out. That's when the strange posters start showing up around Brooklyn.

🌸 More in these bones by SunTomato / @sun-tomato {NR, 4k}

"This isn't a social call, is it, Curly?" Harry's gaze drops to the floor. "No." Harry takes a deep breath, fists clenching at his side, before he looks up again. His eyes meet Louis’ with a mix of fear and determination. "I want to make a deal."

OR The one where demon Louis really doesn't want Harry to trade away his soul, even if he can't explain why.

🌸 Tech Support (series) by QuickedWeen / @becomeawendybird {G, 4k}

Harry calls the HP customer service line very late at night expecting to get redirected to a call center far away. Instead, the person on the other end of the line is a little closer to home.

🌸 cursing the cosmos by @hogwartzlou {NR, 4k}

In a world where people have timers counting down to when they meet their soulmate, finding love is easy. Harry meets Louis in a coffee shop one day. They slowly fall in love, the only thing holding them back is that they aren't soulmates.

🌸 you and I love like it's a secret  by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed {T, 4k}

Louis swallows, looking at Harry, who grins at him as though nothing’s wrong. He’s leaning against the door of a wardrobe, his long hair having lost some of its curls due to the amount of times he’s run his fingers through it. Louis is still where he was the moment the door got closed behind them, all but pressed up against the wood, trying to keep as much distance between him and Harry as possible.

His heart stutters in his chest as he looks up at his best friend. He’s known Harry since he was barely out of diapers, and Harry gets him in a way that few people ever have – or have tried to. He knows him, to the point where sometimes Louis worries that he’s able to read his mind.

Or: It's Seven minutes in Heaven, but Louis sort of feels like he's ended up in Hell instead when he's forced into a small bedroom with his childhood best friend slash long time crush.

🌸 they’re laughin’ and drinkin’ and havin’ a party by  4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou {G, 4k}

When Louis decides he has to get away, he chooses the next best town in Texas, as far away from his ex as he can get. The real estate agent tells him it’s a quiet neighborhood, yet somehow the sound of a champagne bottle popping from two doors down followed by the roar of a party, sends him spiraling. That is, until a deep voice calls out a tentative “heey” from the darkness.

🌸 The Hidden Hills Restaurant  by amomentoflove / @daggerandrose {E, 4k}

“Are you sure you want to hear about this? Wouldn’t you rather hear about what I’ll do to you? How often? How long? How many fin—“

“I like to get to know my potential clients before agreeing to anything,” Louis says and lays down the menu. He’s thinking of steak. Something meaty, juicy, and hearty.

Harry’s arched eyebrow at the word ‘potential’ doesn’t escape Louis’ notice.

or the one where Louis is a personal feeder and Harry is the vampire to be his next client

🌸 Into Always by @jaerie {E, 4k}

Harry finds his ex's knotting dildo and gets a little curious. Louis is more than willing to help out.

🌸 Fakes (Streaming Live) by @allwaswell16 {E, 4k}

Alpha camboy Henry Steel has a rather unfortunate crush on omega camboy Luscious Lucas. He also has a rather unfortunate secret that's about to be revealed.

🌸 Heels Over Head by @kingsofeverything {E, 3k}

Louis Tomlinson returns from tour to find that his new next door neighbor doesn't realize his backyard is not completely private.

🌸 No One But You Got Me Feeling This Way by @runaway-train-works​ / runaway_train {E, 3k}

Harry is well aware he should be studying or watching T.V or cleaning the kitchen or doing literally anything from a list as long as his arm instead of this, but he is. The list of reasons why he shouldn’t be doing this is probably at least double that, but here he most definitely is. He’s sitting on his bed, legs straight out in front of him, back propped up against the headboard and some fluffed-up pillows and his MacBook is resting on his thighs. His jittery fingers drum lightly on the edge of the keyboard as he stares at the tiny digital clock in the top right-hand corner of the screen, willing the seconds to tick by faster. He wants to get into this and get it over with in equal measures.

Or The one where Harry has a particular desire that only Louis can fulfill.

🌸 nobody knows like me by enbyharry / @non-binharry {G, 3k}

Harry does his best to cope with a secret life in the summer of '74.

🌸 Gonna Dress You Up In My Love by @fallinglikethis {T, 3k}

Harry decides to take up knitting. He's horrible at it. Louis wears everything anyway.

🌸 the most fantastic things by bluegreenish / @greenblueish {G, 2k}

When he reads a fairy tale today, and it’s one about love, Harry will find himself in it. Because in all the fairy tales about love that exist in the world, he knows that a little part of Louis and him is written in between the letters, hidden between every page that curious fingers turn.

or, Harry's version of the fairy tale Thumbelina, minus marrying toads or moles, plus waxing poetic about Louis.

🌸 as we move slowly by snsk / @snsknene {G, 2k}

"You know what color your wings are?" Harry asked conversationally, on his stomach at the tattoo parlor, while Louis played absentmindedly with one dangling hand and flipped through some designs.

// Alternatively: Louis grows wings. Harry is the only one who can see them.

🌸 maybe by @gaycousinlarry / momentofclarity {G, 2k}

I cannot not see you again. I cannot.

🌸 On the Go by @phdmama {T, 2k}

louis owns a landscaping company called MANSCAPE and harry thinks it’s some sort of in-home pubic hair grooming company

🌸 Check, Check, Checkmate  by nonsensedarling / @absoloutenonsense {E, 2k}

Harry and Louis play chess... until another game becomes more interesting.

🌸 Zoey by @wabadabadaba {G, 2k}

Harry knew his first name, but he liked the way Dr. Tomlinson sounded more. Harry watched as Louis unclasped her harness and set it aside and pet her back and under her chin. Louis kissed the top of her head and murmured sweet nothings to her- mostly about how pretty she is and how well behaved she is. Harry wished it was him.

or Harry has a huge crush on his cat's veterinarian and finally decides to do something about it.

🌸 What About Tonight by @taggiecb {G, 2k}

Louis loves his new career. It might just be killing him, but he loves it. What he doesn't love is how easily the boy he cares most about seems to move in and out of his life.

🌸 you don't have to wear (your best fake smile) by coffeelouis {T, 2k}

When Harry was 12, he moved to Holmes Chapel and broke up with his first boyfriend.

When Harry was 20, he sat next to said boyfriend in class, and although he continues to wear Harry's parting gift of his beloved Manchester United sweatshirt every goddamn day, does not seem to remember Harry at all.

🌸  Moon Dances Over by LadyLondonderry /  @londonfoginacup {G, 2k}

Louis knows that his tail is, frankly, stunning. His iridescent blue scales shimmer in even the slightest sunlight, and his fins have grown since he presented, delicate and almost transparent in their webbing.

He also knows that that means he’ll be one of the first to pick tonight, as the most beautiful omegas are blessed to pick their mates first. It’s considered a huge honour, since the guppies they’ll eventually birth will certainly be beautiful as well, bringing favour on the whole clan.

Louis has a stubborn streak, though. He’s always been rather a fan of mating for love, and there’s someone he’s had his eye on for a long time now.

🌸 an honest mistake  by @disgruntledkittenface {NR, 2k}

“You look different when you’re not covered in come,” he blurts out, immediately regretting each and every life choice that has led to this exact moment. Elevator Guy is going to hate him.

Louis has ridden the elevator with his neighbor all week. The first time they speak, there’s a misunderstanding.

🌸 Stole My Heart by @haztobegood {NR, 2k}

“Oh my god, Niall.” The door slams shut as Harry rushes into the flat. He’s still panting from his rush to get away from the scene of his crime. “You won’t believe what just happened!”

Niall is sitting on the couch in their tiny living room. He looks up from his laptop. “What happened?”

“The worst thing. I’ll never recover. I just reached into a box of free samples outside that new chicken restaurant. Only it wasn’t free samples. It was a man. Holding a box of chicken nuggets. His chicken nuggets. I stole this man’s food, Niall!”

🌸 Simply the Nest (Better Than All the Rest) by @homosociallyyours {G, 2k}

It's been a few months since Louis moved to a new town, and he still hasn't managed to get his nest to feel as comforting as he'd like it to. When his therapist suggests he might need some new materials, he's willing to give it a shot. Wandering into Harry's nesting store turns out to be just what he needed.

🌸 the prettiest customer (and the cutest barista) by fearsparks / @onlythebravest {G, 1k}

“So there’s this guy,” Harry repeated. “And I really like him.”

“Is he cute?”

“The cutest,” Harry said with a bright smile, turning around to face Louis. His cheeks felt warm, but he ignored it, pushed past it. “Prettiest boy I’ve ever seen.”

“Ooh, tell me more.” Louis rested his head in his hand.

(Louis is the pretty customer that comes in and orders hot chocolate while Harry is the cute barista that takes his order.)

🌸 A+ Patient by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf {G, 1k}

Harry hated everything about the dentist—the antiseptic smell and the bright light in his face and the disappointment in himself and the suction thingy that kept his mouth too dry. But the thing he hated the most was how in love with his dentist he was.

🌸 Needle by @nouies {NR, 666 words}

“You didn’t deserve this,” he muttered between hiccups. “She didn’t have the right.”

🌸 there’s a house in english bond (somebody planned to stay) by @muldxr {T, 666 words}

The Hotel dates back to the mid-17th century, and the owners have invested dearly to make it a home away from home. Please mind our building rules written below in order to have an exceptional stay.

🌸 Swings Said by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright {T, 500 words}

A love story told by five swings who each were there to see a piece of it unfold.

[leverage-ot3]

that’s leverage. that’s the show.

Heist movies are just objectively better & sexier in every way than spy movies they're exactly as smart, sexily soundtracked & well choreographed if not more so but instead of imperialist propaganda they're about leveraging the greed of the rich against them & being massively gay

[kittyymew]

Overstimulation- Part 1

Part 1/4

Link to- Part 2. Part 3.

********

"What! Come on! You HAVE to tell us!" Sasha squeals as she, Hanje, Mikasa, and Historia scoot closer, leaning on the table to hear you speak.

"Come on don't be shy! Help a single girl out!" Sasha presses for more information.

"I-..." you say, barely being able to form any words fiddling with an apple in my hand.

"Leave her alone. She's probably too shy" Hanje interjects placing a hand on Sasha's shoulder.

"But- she just has to say a number!" Sasha protests.

You look over at Mikasa and Historia in hopes that they'd help you out here.

Mikasa slams her fist on the table. "Fine, I'll go first. Seven times." Mikasa says, trying her best to maintain her usual composure.

All of you look over at her, your mouths gaping open.

"S- seven?" Sasha says chuckling.

"Yes," Mikasa replies as she picks up her cup and sips on it.

"So... Eren made you.... orgasm seven times in a row?" Sasha continues. That girl never knows when to keep her mouth shut.

Sasha receives a smack on her arm from Hanje. "That's what seven implies here!" Hanje says clearing her throat.

"Jealous?" Mikasa smirks at Sasha, knowing damn well what her answer would be.

"Your turn Y/N. You've been awfully quiet here" Mikasa continues.

I look up at her in a panic, trying to think of an excuse to get out of the situation.

"You're not getting out without telling us," Mikasa says.

That damn girl.

"Come on! We're not asking you to spill the details about what happens between you and Levi... unless you're up for it." Sasha adds.

I groan rubbing my eyes with my palms before mumbling, "Two".

I look up to see everyone just staring at me. Hanje is the first to speak up, "I- You're kidding right?" she says followed by a dry chuckle from Sasha. All I can do is shake my head.

"You're telling me THE Levi Ackerman has not made you orgasm more than two times?" Sasha says, still confused and shocked. "I thought your number would be higher than mine" Mikasa adds shrugging.

"Well, I mean, they're new at this moment so it's only fair to think that it's slow..." Historia says trying to make it less awkward. I just shrug and take a bite out of my apple. "We're a new thing too," Mikasa says.

"Okay stop! I am not complaining tho. It took a while for Levi to come around and I'm fine with the fact that Levi has made me orgasm just twice up until now. But-..."

Before I could continue, someone clears their throat behind us. I freeze in my seat and judging by everyone's faces, I know who it is. Everyone's expressions change quickly to a smile, acting as if we weren't just discussing our sex lives out in the open like this. I turn around smiling. "Hello," I say looking up at him.

"How long have you been there?" I ask nervously as he walks into the room and helping himself to a cup of tea. "Mmm not long enough," he says as he walks back towards our table and standing right behind me.

"Hope you ladies are having fun..." he says taking a sip. Everyone just nods in response. All of us were like kids who were caught stealing candies. I gulp and nod, trying to be as nonchalant as possible.

"Well, if you don't mind, Y/N find me when you're done... talking..." Levi says and before I could even react, he was gone.

Everyone breathes in a sigh of relief as soon as Levi is out of sight. "Do you think he heard us talking about it?" Historia asks. "I don't think so. I hope not" Hanje replies.

"He definitely heard us talk," I say looking over at Hanje. I sigh and finish eating my apple in silence as everyone else continues to talk and the conversation shifts to the next scouting mission.

After about 30 minutes, all of us decide to go back to our room. I walk towards Levi's room, raking my brain with all sorts of justifications I could come up with IF he heard us talk. Levi's doesn't quite like sharing our personal details with anyone. He doesn't like the idea of others thinking he has normal feelings like everyone else. It took a while for him to be comfortable around me before we decided to take it further.

Lost in my thoughts, I don't even realise when I reached his room. I reach up to knock on the door and before my fist could even touch the wood, the door swings open.

*smut starts now*

"Oh, hey you wanted to see me?" I say, fiddling with my fingers trying to calm my nerves.

"Yes, brat. Come in" Levi says in a scary, yet sexy cold tone. It's the first time he's ever called me a brat. Does that mean he heard us?

Levi moves his body just enough for me to walk through the door. As soon as I am in, Levi slams the door shut, stepping closer to me. "JUST twice huh brat?" He says as he grabs my wrists bringing them behind my back and holding them there.

"Wha- No wait you're misunderstanding!!" I go in a slight panic mode. "I didn't mean it in that sense!" You continue your rambling.

"Shh brat. By the time I am done with you, you would've forgotten how to fucking count" Levi whispers in my ear smacking my right butt cheek.

He reaches down and slowly inches up my shirt. He pauses looking up at me, "Can I?" he asks, his voice suddenly going soft, a total contrast to the prior statements. Urgh, always the gentleman. I nod in response and he pulls my shirt over my head. He sucks in a breath when he sees that I was not wearing a bra underneath.

"Fucking naughty," Levi states, turning me around and bringing my hands behind my back, and cuffing them.

"WH- Why are you cuffing me?!" You yelp, squirming tugging at your cuffed hands.

"I don't remember giving you permission to talk brat," Levi says, before smacking my other butt cheek, this time harder.

"S-sorry," I say whimpering.

"On the bed, face down ass up" Levi commands. I quickly walk over getting on the bed and getting into the position right at the centre of his bed. He walks over and gets on the bed beside me, leaning down near my face. "You know the safe word. Use it if you want me to stop anytime" He states and with that, he's out of sight.

I feel the bed shift as Levi gets up and walks to the other side of the room. There's a long silence and I couldn't control it anymore. "Levi?" I say lowly, barely above a whisper.

As soon as his name leaves my mouth, I feel a hard smack on my ass. "Patience. I was just retrieving some toys for our fun time" Levi says, I can almost see his stupid grin as he says that.

Levi reaches forward, pressing something to my lips. "Open" he commands. As soon as my mouth is open, he shoves something in my mouth, tying it behind my head. A fucking gag.

Levi swiftly moves away and lifts my skirt, exposing my (pantie-covered) butt. I hear a small chuckle leave his mouth and I squirm in embarrassment. "Don't worry pink always looks good on you" Levi says, his fingers coming up to rub my covered clit.

"Look at you, all wet already and I haven't even begun yet," Levi says, moving my panties to the side, rubbing his fingers over my pussy, spreading my wetness. I had never seen Levi be so commanding and scary hot when we'd have sex. This was so unexpected and honestly, hot.

Levi pulls his fingers away from my core and before I could make any sounds of protest, he yanks down my panties and my skirt in one single swift movement and he starts rubbing my clit again.

I buck my hips towards his fingers, wanting more. "Tch brat!" Levi says pulling his fingers away and smacking both my butt cheeks. I try my best to not let out any sort of sound.

Levi slowly teases my entrance with his finger before slowly pushing his index finger inside, pumping it slowly before adding another finger. He starts curling them, rubbing them right against my g-spot. I let out a moan, moving and grinding my hips on his fingers.

Levi leans down and teasingly kisses my clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking and licking my clit, as his two fingers keep moving at a fast pace, rubbing my g-spot perfectly. I moan against the gag, grinding your hips faster. Levi's other free hand comes up to grab your hips and squeezing them, to steady your movements. You feel your orgasm building up, your walls clenching around his fingers as his tongue and fingers continue to pleasure you.

Before you could comprehend, you let out a muffled moan, your back arching and your pussy clenching harder around Levi's long fingers as you cum.

Levi continues to finger you and suck on your clit as you ride out your high. He pulls away after a few moments and sits up flipping you on your back.

He looks down at you, his lips still a little wet. "Did you like it?" He asks as you try to control your breathing. You look up at him and nod.

"Well, that's just one of many to come," Levi says with a grin, your eyes widening as he pulls a blindfold around your eyes.

********

I AM SORRY IF I SWITCH BETWEEN 'I' AND 'YOU'!!! Sometimes my dumbass loses track lol

[fanmoose12]

Levihan week 2021

Day one: school

Summary: If there is something worse than getting caught by your student while you're making out with your colleague, it's getting caught while making out by your student who is also your cousin. Especially, if the cousin is as bratty and annoying as Mikasa.

The kiss is perfect - slow but passionate, their lips fitting just right like two pieces of a puzzle.

Besides, despite his neck muscles protesting, Levi rather likes their position, with Hange sitting in the chair and, and him - looming over her, gripping the back of the chair tightly. Smirking into the kiss, he takes her chin in his hand, tilting her head to the side to further deepen the kiss.

The door opens just as Hange lets out the first moan.

"I think my eyes are bleeding."

Levi's stomach drops as he recognizes that voice.

If there is something worse than getting caught by your student while you're making out with your colleague, it's getting caught while making out by your student who is also your cousin. Especially, if the cousin is as bratty and annoying as Mikasa.

"Mikasa!" Hange shrieks, hastily buttoning up the shirt that Levi spent so much time stealthily unbuttoning. He curses the sudden intrusion and the waste of a perfect moment. Mikasa and her fucking timing. "I'm so sorry!"

"I'm sorry too," Mikasa says, and the tone of her voice makes Levi grit teeth in irritation. "For you, Hange-san. I'm sure you can do better."

Oh what a fucking jerk.

Levi strides up to her, pushing her out of the door. "I'll deal with it!" he shouts to Hange and shuts the door closed.

He turns to Mikasa, his eyes flashing warningly. "You saw nothing," he hisses. "And you won't say a word about it to anyone, or I'll tell Yeager about your crush on him."

Mikasa huffs. "I don't have crush on him anymore. Your crush on Hange-san however..."

"It's not a crush. It's..." he pauses, thinking how the fuck can he explain his relationship with Hange. He never had to explain it to anyone, Hange seems perfectly fine with... whatever is it that they have. Even if what they have are quick fucks after long workdays and passionate makeout sessions in between classes. They're both adults, they don't need some fucking labels if all they want is just a little bit of fun. "It's nothing," he tells Mikasa at last.

She looks unconvinced as ever. Levi wonders what exactly makes her seem so skeptical - the look in his eyes or his swollen red lips. Whatever. Even if Mikasa is unconvinced, it means nothing. Because there is nothing between him and Hange.

"You'll be late to your class if you continue staring at me, brat," he snaps, when Mikasa continues to give him the same raised eyebrow look. "Forget you saw anything."

"Sure, mister midget," Mikasa flips him off as she starts to walk away. "I'll do my best to forget."

Levi watches her go, hoping this would the end of it. But, of course, it fucking isn't.

___

It's Saturday evening, and, as always, Levi is having dinner with his family - his mom, uncle and Mikasa. Everything is blessedly pleasant at first - the food prepared by Kenny and his mom is delicious, the conversation around the table is enjoyable and overall the atmosphere is nice and relaxing.

That is until Mikasa decides to open her mouth.

"Aunt Kuchel?" she asks, looking so innocent and unassuming.

Kuchel smiles as she turns to look at her niece and Mikasa smiles back. Kuchel's smile is gentle and soft, like that of an angel. Mikasa's smile looks more like a smirk from the devil himself.

"Aunt Kuchel, do you know who Hange is? She is Levi's—"

"Colleague," he blurts out before Mikasa can say the wrong thing. "Hange is my colleague and Mikasa's science teacher."

Mikasa's smile grows, turns wicked. "Hange is much more than that to Levi."

"Oh?" Kenny decides to join the conversation. His excited face doesn't promise anything good. Between him and Mikasa, Levi can't decide which one of his relatives he hates more. "Is that Hange Levi's babe? Are they—"

God, Levi feels his face burn. Everyone is staring at him now and it makes his embarrassment that much worse.

"Hange is a friend," he forces out, aiming his glare first at Kenny, then at Mikasa. "Just a friend."

A friend Levi frequently sleeps with, but that's— that's not something his family should know about.

"Ah," Kenny mournfully shakes his head, "so Levi is still a virgin, how tragic."

"Kenny, you can't—"

"I'm not a fucking virgin, you old—"

"Levi, don't curse in front of—"

And just like that, a quiet pleasant evening turns into utter chaos.

Stealing a moment, while his mother is distracted with scolding his uncle, Levi leans over the table to get closer to Mikasa. "I will fucking kill you," he whispers into her face.

"Good luck with that," Mikasa retorts, expression gleeful. "You can't even reach my neck, midget."

What a fucking asshole. Levi can't fathom how his nuisance is related to him.

___

Things take turn to the worst when Monday rolls around and Levi comes to work.

It is lunch time and he's in the process of munching on a sandwich with chicken when the door to his classroom swings open and Hange waltzes in.

Instantly, the sandwich is forgotten. Levi puts it aside as he shifts in his seat to look at Hange, thinking - hoping - that she's here for a quickie. The lunch break has just started, and if they'll be smart about it—

Hange plops down on his desk and Levi's hope grows and grows until— until he notices the expression on her face.

It's not "hey, let's fuck in principal's office" kind of face. It's not "hey, you look incredibly sexy in this shirt" kind of face. It's not even "hey, do you want to hear about the latest experiment I did with the kids" kind of face. If he didn't know Hange as much as he did, Levi'd say that the smile on her face is awkward of all things, which— is fucking weird. He didn't know that Hange is even capable of feeling embarrassed. Just a week ago she asked if he wanted to tie her up while they fuck and she didn’t even blush during this particular conversation.

"Listen, maybe, it's not my business," when Hange has ever cared if something is her business or not? Usually she just puts her long nose into everything she deems interesting enough. Levi gulps at another sign that he really won't like this exchange. "But Mikasa approached me after today's class? Asked if I knew that Pieck is single? And then she showed me a picture of Eren's brother and told me that she can give me his number if I'm interested in him?"

Levi's fists clench as he listens to Hange. That fucker had the audacity to go behind his back and talk with Hange about this. What's even worse, Levi doesn't know what makes him angrier - Mikasa discussing things like that with Hange when he has explicitly told her not to, or the fact that he's actually worried about Hange's answer. Did she agree to take that number?

This thing between them, Levi knows it's not exclusive. And while he doesn't want to have sex with anyone else but Hange, he also knows he is free to do so. As is Hange.

And the last thought makes him more uncomfortable than he is willing to admit.

Sullenly, he returns his attention to the sandwich. "Just ignore my stupid cousin."

"Mikasa isn't stupid!" Hange protests. "I think she's very nice, she just hides it under, you know, the Ackerman gloomy facade."

"There is no such thing as Ackerman gloomy facade. She's just a brat."

"She's kind," she says, leaning just a little bit closer to him. "Just like you, short stuff."

Sitting back in his chair, Levi considers Hange. He takes note of her grin that now looks much cheekier, her chest that moves a little quicker than before, her eyes that seem to be glued to his lips.

"Four-eyes," he husks, putting his hand on her thigh. "Did you really come here just to talk about my cousin?"

"Well, since I'm already here," Hange pulls him in by his tie. "We can do both?"

"I prefer if we only do this," Levi murmurs, before closing distance between their lips.

Just like that, all his worries (and his sandwich) are forgotten.

___

But Mikasa, being the insufferable nuisance that she is, just doesn't let him be.

Levi is having a wondrous time with Hange in her laboratory. She has him splayed out on her desk, and she kisses him just right, just as he likes, while her fingers are carding through his hair, pulling at it from time to time.

Nothing can destroy this moment for him. Or— so he thinks.

As soon as Hange starts toying with the buttons of his shirt and Levi gets even more excited, his phone starts to buzz.

He means to ignore it, but the buzz keeps repeating, again and again. He groans and pushes Hange away.

“Sorry, some bastard keeps texting me,” he explains, as he unlocks the phone.

There, he finds a dozen texts from Mikasa. Most of them include a vomiting emoji, and the last one says,

you forgot to close the windows, idiot

Levi whips his head around, and, to his horror, realizes that Mikasa is right. The blinds aren’t closed, and Hange’s laboratory is on the first floor, and that means… fuck, that means that anyone could see Hange going on him.

He frantically grabs her hand and pulls her along with him. “Let’s do this in my classroom.”

At least, no one would see him from the third floor window. To make sure that no one interrupts them this time, he sends a quick message to Mikasa,

keep your shitty friends away from my classroom

and don’t you dare open that door until the class starts

Still, to be completely safe, Levi locks the door to his classroom too.

___

There is no saving from Mikasa, and several days later, she strikes again.

Levi is walking Hange to her car after the workday is over, thinking if he should offer her to go to his place and get drunk while grading assignments. Maybe, they can have a little bit a fun afterwards.

The offer is at the tip of his tongue when Levi hears it, as clear as day, - his cousin's irritating voice.

"I'll come back in a moment," he tells Hange and heads in the direction the voice was coming from.

Turning the corner, he sees Mikasa in all of her glory - short skirt, fishnet stockings, leather jacket and combat boots, all black, of course. She's with Sasha, another student of his - a nice, polite girl, Levi doesn't understand why she's hanging out with his asshole of a cousin.

But Sasha's presence is not the thing that he focuses on. Levi is much more interested in the cigarette that Mikasa holds in her hand.

"Oi, brat," he glowers, fists clenching at his sides. "You can't smoke on the school's grounds."

"We're sorry, Mister Ackerman!" Sasha exclaims, her eyes wide. "We were just leaving, I swear!" she not so subtly tugs at Mikasa's arm, begging her to start moving. Mikasa stays perfectly still, though.

"The lessons are over," she takes a drag of the cigarette and lazily lets the smoke out. It only furthers Levi’s anger. "You can't tell me what to do."

"I can still call your mom and tell her what you're doing."

"And I can tell everyone that I saw you making out with Hange-san the other day. Or I can tell how just now you were obviously thinking about groping her ass."

"Mikasa!" Sasha looks terrified, her ponytail bobbing up and down as she frantically shakes her head. "She didn't mean that!" she hurriedly assures Levi.

"I meant exactly that," Mikasa counters, in an annoyingly bored voice. Levi hates when she acts like that. He feels like he is staring in the mirror.

"Leave me and Hange alone," he says, deadly quiet. "It's not any of your business."

"I just gave her a couple of advices. What, it got you mad?" Mikasa taunts. "Maybe, you're jealous? Then why the fuck—"

"It's none of your—"

"It is if you're acting like an idiot! You clearly like her, so why are you so stuck on that friends with benefits bullshit? What are you scared of? Commitment? Or that your feelings are not actually requited?"

“Shut up and don’t put your nose into my shit. What, you think you’ve gotten over one boy in your life and now you’re an expert in relationship? Stay in your fucking lane.”

His tirade doesn’t seem to have much of effect on Mikasa, but, at least, she doesn’t try to open her mouth once more, just stares at him with judgement in her gaze. Whatever, Levi doesn’t care what she thinks.

And, maybe, she is right, maybe, he is afraid that Hange won’t want to be in a serious relationship with him, maybe, he is afraid that he will bore her out and she will leave him.

But, whether she is right or not, it’s still none of Mikasa’s business.

___

After that particularly unpleasant conversation, Mikasa doesn’t try to bring this up the subject of him and Hange again. Furthermore, she doesn’t talk to him either, just glares fiercely whenever their eyes meet in the classroom or across the hallway.

Levi tries to persuade himself that the silent treatment doesn’t affect him in anyway. After all, Mikasa is just a teenager, a difficult one at that, it’s not unusual for her to throw tantrums. He tells himself that it doesn’t bother him.

But what does bother him is her words and how they affect his relationship with Hange. The relationship that is perfect, that works for both of them, and that ultimately… makes him yearn for more.

He wants more than to simply be Hange’s fuck buddy. He’s tired of coming up with the reason just to be with her. And while the sex is great, better than Levi ever had, he doesn’t want their relationships to revolve solely around it. He wants to stay in bed with her after the deed is done, wants to fall asleep together and wake up in one bed. Wants to cook breakfast for her and watch her walk around in his clothes. He wants to tell their friends that they are together, wants to hold her hand as they walk home together and wants to spend lunches with her, listening to her talk about her work.

He wants more— more of Hange. He wants to be more for her – more than a colleague, more than a friend, more than a fuck buddy.

But he doesn’t know how to tell this to her, how to open up and show his true feelings. What if Hange doesn’t reciprocate them? What if by asking for more, he will lose the thing they already have?

Levi doesn’t want that. Even if he’ll remain nothing more than a fuck buddy, even if he’ll become just a friend, he wants to keep Hange close, no matter how their relationship will look like.

Perhaps, wanting more is stupid. Perhaps, it is simply futile.

Perhaps, perhaps… But what Levi is sure of that it is all Mikasa’s fault.

She is the one who planted these idiotic ideas in his head. She is the one who couldn’t stop bugging him about his relationship with Hange. She is the one who made him so confused and miserable.

She is the one who made him crave for Hange, even when Hange is right beside him, warm and soft in his arms.

“Short stuff?” her long finger travels up his bicep, tracing invisible shapes. “Are you still with me? Have I fucked you that good?”

“Shut up,” he mumbles without any real bite to his words. Of course, the sex was good, it always is, but the problem is sex is the only thing they do. Sure, they bicker between classes and sometimes they have dinner together or they hang out and watch dumb movies, but it always— always, leads to the same outcome. Them, falling into bed, or them doing it against the counter, or in the shower, or against the wall, or on the floor of Hange’s living room. “I’m just… thinking.”

“Thinking?” Hange rises up, her hair tickling his neck. “Penny for your thoughts then?”

It’d be so easy to say this. To take her hand, kiss her knuckles and whisper, “hey, I like you. A lot. Maybe, we should start dating?”

It’d be so easy. For anyone, who isn’t him.

“It’s nothing,” he pulls away from Hange, leaving the comfort of her bed and the warmth of her body. “I guess I’m just a little tired. It’s late already, and we have classes first thing in the morning, so I’ll be going.”

“Levi?” Hange reaches out for him, and something in her gaze, in the way she says his name makes him pause, makes him think that maybe his feelings aren’t actually one-sided. But the moment is gone, and the impression is gone along with it. “You know you can talk to me, right? About anything. We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“Yeah,” he answers, swallowing the bitter lump in his throat. They’re friend, just friends. And that’s the main problem. “I’ll see you around, Hange.”

He pulls on his clothes and hurries to get out, before Hange can say anything else.

___

It goes on like that for another two weeks. He tries to avoid Hange, Hange inevitably finds him, tries to get him to talk, but Levi refuses and distracts her with sex. Hange stops pestering him for a day or two, while Levi can’t stop thinking about her.

And it is ridiculous, absolutely laughable, but his heart aches for her even while she’s moaning his name underneath him, while he holds her close, as both of the climax at the same time, as she whispers just how good he makes her feel.

Ultimately, Levi blames it all on Mikasa.

Strangely, she’s also the one, who helps him get his shit together.

He finds her after school, smoking near the main gates. Mikasa looks even more sullen than usual, her face as sour as ever. Curious (and a little bit worried), he approaches her, leaning against the brick wall by her side.

“What, did Yeager break up with you?”

Mikasa gifts him with a glare, and scoffs before turning her eyes back to the sky. “I told you, I don’t have a crush on him anymore.”

“Then who is it?” mentally, he goes through a list of all the assholes his cousin likes to hang out with. Whichever of them made her feel like shit will certainly receive an earful from him. “Is it that horse-faced Kirshtein?”

She puffs out a cloud of smoke. “It’s not him either.”

“Then… is it Armin?”

“It’s Sasha.”

“Sasha?” it takes him a moment to catch up with her words. He feels like the ground has been kicked from out his feet as soon as he does. “Sasha?! You mean, the Blouse girl?”

“Of course, who else?” Mikasa asks, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Perhaps, for her it actually is.

Levi has some troubles imagining Sasha – cheerful, energetic Sasha, who has a weird obsession with food, and quiet, moody Mikasa.

Then again, perhaps, both of them have this thing in common. They both fall for the people who are so different from them.

“So what’s up with you and Sasha? Did she dump you in favor of some kebab?”

“Very funny,” Mikasa glowers, elbowing him in the stomach. “We’re not actually together. Yet. I don’t know if I should confess to her. What if she doesn’t feel the same?”

Levi almost starts laughing. And here Mikasa was, lecturing him about relationships.

“I’m sure she’s as crazy for you as you are for her.”

“How do you know it? You don’t seem too knowledgeable about this kind of stuff.”

Levi rolls his eyes. Mikasa could at least try to act like she respects him. He's her elder and teacher, after all. “You don’t have to be knowledgeable to notice. You just got to have eyes.”

“And?” Mikasa stares at him, seemingly unimpressed and disinterested. But the cigarette in her hand is completely forgotten, uselessly dangling from between her fingers. Levi uses the moment to steal it from her.

Before Mikasa can complain or hit him on the head, Levi puts it to his lips and takes a long, satisfying drag. “Remember the time I caught the two of you after school hours? If Blouse doesn’t have a crush on you, then why she decided to hang out with your delinquent ass, knowing full well that it can get her into trouble? She could go to Burger King with Springer instead. But she chose you, brat.”

A moment passes in silence, as Mikasa stares at the ground, her expression thoughtful.

“That… was almost nice, midget,” she tentatively smiles. “Are you alright?”

Is he alright? Of course, he fucking isn’t.

“It’s your fault,” he sighs, putting the cigarette out and flicking its butt to the trashcan. “I can’t stop thinking about Hange and how… you know, how much she means to me.”

“Oh? So you’ve decided to stop being a shithead and confess?”

Levi crosses hands on his chest, trying to appear less pathetic than he feels right now. “I’m not sure if she wants the same thing as I do.”

“Jesus, I told her to find someone better. But,” Mikasa raises a hand, silencing him before Levi can start cursing at her. “Hange-san thinks you’re fine just the way you are. Do you know what she told me after I offered to introduce her to Eren’s brother? She said, and it’s a direct quote, - right now, I don’t need a date, I’m happy with what we have with Levi.”

Mikasa can be cruel sometimes, sometimes she seems almost heartless. But Levi knows she wouldn’t lie to him, not about this.

Even so… he is hesitant, he can’t quite believe that she means what he thinks she means.

“But if Hange is happy with what we have now…”

“For fuck’s sake,” Mikasa rolls her eyes. “If she didn’t want more, she’d go on a date with someone else, you idiot. But she’s happy with you, because she’s crazy about you, as weird as it sounds. So… go and get her. Before she decides you’re uninterested.”

He’s… he’s not uninterested. Levi is anything but uninterested.

“I’m going to go now,” he says, before he dashes back inside the school. If he’s lucky, Hange is still there.

As he's running towards school, Mikasa's quiet chuckling follows him.

___

Hange is still there, but she isn’t alone. Her assistant Moblit and Armin, one of her favorite students, are with her, working on some experiment.

They jump, as Levi rushes inside, opening the door so forcefully, the hinges almost fly out.

“Out,” he tells them in his most scary voice. Moblit and Armin share a look with each other, then – with Hange. She smiles and gives them a nod, and they hurriedly leave the laboratory.

“Levi, listen, I appreciate—”

He doesn’t give her a chance to finish that sentence. As swiftly as he arrived, Levi appears next to her, cradling her face in his palms.

“Four-eyes,” he cringes at the nickname. He’s asking her out, he should, at least, try to be a little nicer. “Hange," he corrects himself, "are you free tonight?”

More than a little confused by his behavior, Hange snickers. “Are you that horny today, Levi?”

“Tch,” he rolls his eyes. “That’s not it. Are you free tonight to…” he pauses, watching her face closely. If Hange shows even the smallest sign of discomfort or disinterest, he’ll back off. He’ll forget this conversation ever took place. “To go to the dinner with me? Without sex.”

“You don’t want to have sex?”

How can she even ask something like that? Of course, Levi wants to have sex with her. But he also wants to do other things with her, the things that normal couples do.

And, maybe, he doesn’t want to have sex either. Maybe, he wants to make love to her fron now on.

But… he is getting ahead of himself. Right now, the dinner is more important.

“We can have sex later, or not at all. What I want is to spend time with you, outside of the bed.”

“Oh…”

So Mikasa was wrong. Hange doesn’t reciprocate his feelings. She doesn’t want to have something more with him.

Crushed and crestfallen, Levi intends to take a step back. He intends to apologize, leave Hange alone and then get blackout drunk at his apartment while listening to Taylor Swift.

But as he tries to pull away, Hange doesn’t let him. She puts her hands over his palms, staring down at him with an expression so loving it takes his breath away.

“Of course, I want to go to the dinner with you, Levi. We can dress up, go to the fancy restaurant, or… we can order takeout and eat awful, greasy food on your couch, while I listen to you bitch about your students and you listen to me rambling about science. We can cuddle, while we grade assignments… I’ll be happy with any scenario. Even if it won’t end in sex.”

“You mean it?” he asks, still unconvinced. “You want… the same things as I do?”

“For quite some time, short stuff,” Hange chuckles. “I just didn’t know you wanted it too. You seemed quite satisfied with our arrangement, and you were so ashamed when your cousin caught us in the act…”

“I wasn’t ashamed,” he scoffs, refusing to even entertain the idea. “I just… didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable, and… I was worried that she would set you up on some date.”

“Nah,” Hange takes one of his hands in hers, kissing the inside of his palm. The simple, but tender gesture leaves him weak in knees. “I only want you.”

“Good,” he puts his hand on her waist, pulling her just a little bit closer. When their lips are just a breath apart, he whispers, “Because I only want you, as well, four-eyes.”

[13uswntimagines]

Stupid Games, Stupid Prizes (Alpha!Preath x Omega!Reader)

Request: alpha!Tobin and alpha!Christen fight over omega!reader? You can choose who the reader ends up with.

Hey dudes, I hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it! Hit me up with Requests, Questions or if you just want to say hi! 

This was getting out of hand. You shook your head, watching Tobin’s sulking for as glared at anyone who approached her. Yes, very very out of hand. What had caused the typically chill alpha’s mood to turn sour? That was the Stanford sweater that you were currently wrapped in. The red sweater that smells distinctly like Christen, and you had a feeling that it appearing in your locker wasn’t a huge coincidence. 

The two had been at each other’s throats for the past week, and you were sick and tired of being at the center of their constant game of tug of war. You had thought the idea was stupid, to begin with. The bite marks on your neck and the ones on theirs made the entire effort pointless. But “it’ll be fun they say”, “It’ll make you feel wanted” and help the three of you connect with your more... primal urges, but right now you felt like a toy being fought over by two pups. There was nothing sexy or loving about it.

You huffed, settling back on the bench, blatantly ignoring Christen’s smug grin and Tobin’s pout. “You ok?” Alex asked, settling down on the bench beside you, wrapping an arm around your very tense shoulders, and releasing a wave of soothing pheromones. Alex was like your older sister, her inner omega claiming you as such the moment she set her eyes on you, which wasn’t surprising considering that her mate Kelley’s inner alpha had claimed you the same way. 

“I’m just great,” You sassed, glowering at Tobin who was taunting Christen with the soccer ball. Christen bared her teeth, clacking them together at the cocky alpha. 

“They look like they’re going to rip each other’s heads off,” Mal mumbled as she sat on your other side, and Kelley slid in behind her mate. Kelley would typically be in Mal’s spot, but with Chris and Tobs in this state, she knew that getting too close to you would not be well received by your alpha’s. Plus, her inner alpha wasn’t a fan of the massive amounts of pheromones Chris’s sweatshirt currently had on it. 

“Mmm,” You hummed, leaning further into Alex, allowing her scent to wrap around you like a blanket. Combined with Christen’s scent, it was incredibly relaxing, though you did miss Tobin’s smell. 

“You sure you’re ok?” Kelley asked, peeking over Alex’s shoulder, trying not to get too close. 

“I’m just tired, and I want to cuddle my mates but they’re too busy having a dick measuring contest,” You groaned, cringing when Christen finally snapped and shoved Tobin, stealing the ball away from her and firing it towards the goal. 

“You’re the dumbass that agreed to it in the first place,” Kelley snorted and you rolled your eyes at her, pouting. The premise was that your two alphas would be fighting for your attention, not that they would be unable to stand being in the same room together. In the beginning, it had been fun, watching them squabble and try to get you to wear their cloth or cuddle with just them, but now it was really fucking with your camp routine. 

“Like 2 weeks ago. I thought it’d be over by now,” You growled back, releasing as many dominant scents as you could muster. Kelley was joking and you knew that, but you were tired and cranky and you didn’t want to be teased anymore. 

“I’m sure wearing Chris’s sweater isn’t fanning the flames at all,” Alex chuckled, easing the tension that had settled over you with a little puff of her soothing scent. 

“Kelley’s was unavailable,” You grumbled, burying your nose in the hoodie. 

“Damn right,” Alex laughed back, sinking in the sweatshirt she had stolen from her own alpha. The last time you had taken Kelley’s Stanford sweater by mistake both your alphas and Alex had been pissed. It was disrespectful to wear another alpha’s scent, especially if said alpha was already mated to your best friend. 

“So the thing between Chris and Tobs is a sex thing?” Mal asked, her eyebrows furrowing. 

Something like that,” You smirked at her. Technically it would probably end in a sex thing, but the game was more complex than that. 

“Is it like the time you stole Lindsey’s jacket?” Mal questioned, quirking her head to the side like a small puppy. You laughed at the memory. That had been more for Soran’s benefit than your own, but you supposed the concept was the same. Lindsey had for sure gotten the possessive omega reaction out of Emily. 

“Same game, different rules,” You mumbled thoughtfully, the memory sparking a few ideas in your brain. 

“I still don’t get why the sweatshirt is such a big deal,” Mal huffed, settling back in her seat and pulling a pout that rivaled Tobin’s. 

“You’ll understand when you have an alpha of your own kid,” Kelley laughed, reaching behind you and Alex to pat the young omega’s back. 

“Who are you going to let win?” Alex grinned at you as Tobin finally managed to catch up to Christen and steal the ball away, shoving the shorter woman back. 

“I don’t let anyone win, that’s their problem. All I do is enjoy the show,” You grumbled, huffing when Tobin sent a wink your way and poured when you stuck your tongue out at her. 

“Except you’re not enjoying it?” Mal asked in confusion. You shook your head, throwing your head back with a groan when Chris tackled Tobin for what you assumed was winking at you. This was less of a dominance battle and more of a stupid pudding contest. 

“I was, but now it’s just annoying. They’re acting like pouting pups,” You grumbled, bringing your hands to your face and scrubbing your eyes. You were tired and all you wanted was some cuddling and to not have to choose between your two favorite people. You wanted to snuggle into Chris’s neck while Tobs drew invisible shapes on your back. 

“You could always safeword,” Alex said softly, running her hand down your back and carefully untangling your fingers from your hair. She could feel the frustration rolling off of you in waves, and released her soothing pheromones (along with Kelley) in an attempt to calm your frayed nerves. She carded her fingers through your hair, the corners of her lips turning up when she felt you begin to practically purr in her neck. 

You knew that with one word this stupid game would be over, but that wasn’t the answer. You needed to teach your two donuts a lesson they would never forget. A lesson that would ensure they never drag their stupid games out this long again. If they wanted to play dumbass games, you would show them that they would only win dumbass prizes. 

“I don’t think I need to. I think I have a better way to show them how fucking stupid they are,” You growled into Alex’s neck. 

“You’re going to make them regret this aren’t you?” Kelley chuckled knowingly. 

“Absolutely,” Alex felt you smirk, her smile vanishing. You had one hell of a mean streak in the pitch, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to see what you had in store for your mates. 

 *****

The end of practice and the ride back to the hotel were relatively uneventful, as Mal clung to you and prevented the brewing argument between your mates over who got to sit with you. She also dragged you to an impromptu movie with Emily and Lindsey. You could have done without the whining from your two adult mates, or the pouts, but not feeling like a rope toy being pulled between two pups was very nice. Soran and Mal’s cuddles were a good substitute for your mates as well, but soon enough it was time for team dinner. 

You were honestly dreading it a little bit. Your alphas were probably going to be mopey and grumpy and you just weren’t in the mood to deal with it. What you hadn’t expected was to walk into the dining room and see that your usual seat between your mates was missing. You growled lightly, your good mood was all but gone as you marched up to your typical table. 

“Why aren’t there enough seats?” You asked, glaring at the very innocent looks Christen and Tobin were shooting your way, and ignoring the giggles from the rest of the table. 

“There are, yours is just a little more padded,” Christen smirked your way, pointing to her lap. You rolled your eyes, trying not to let The annoyed pheromones creeping out of Tobin cloud your judgment. 

“Hop on short stack,” Christen again patting her lap after a few seconds of you staring at her in disbelief, releasing a small puff of her most dominant scent. It called to you in the most sensual way possible. It settled in every crevice of your brain, blinding you to the cocky smirk that She sent Tobin’s way. She was sure that she had won this round. You shook your head trying to clear your vision, only to be met with another delectable scent. It made your mouth water. 

“Or you could sit with me, you know you love how I smell little one,” Tobin murmured, resting her hand on your hip, and pushing her scent towards you in another powerful wave. It threatened to pull you under, but again you shook your head, pulling away from her warm body. 

“As tempting as both those offers are, I told JJ I would sit with her today,” You stuttered quietly, forcing yourself to turn away from the two women and towards the Alpha who had already saved you a chair. You almost laughed at the enraged growl that sounded from your mates, Christen’s fingers on your wrist preventing you from making your way over to where JJ, Sam, Abby, and Rose were seated. You glanced back at your alpha, who was glaring in the direction of the table in question. 

“That isn’t part of the game,” She grit her teeth, her scent changing from sensual to calling for your submission, Tobin’s joining hers. Your fists clenched and your body tensed. The game wasn’t fair if you couldn’t play too. 

“Says who?” You retorted with a snort, pulling your wrist free. The alphas shared a glance before their scents backed off, and they both poured. You grinned at the women, your smile showing far too many teeth to be kind. “That’s what I thought,” You straightened your shirt and skipped off to sit with JJ. 

You knew your alpha’s eyes were on you as you touched her arm, and leaned closer than they would have wanted. They loved JJ, but they weren’t as comfortable with her as they were with Kelley and Lindsey. Three could play at this game, and you were pretty sure that you were winning and you weren’t even trying yet. 

****

You weren’t playing fair, and you knew that. You were using most of your team's fed-upness with your mates to your advantage. They wanted this stupid game to end almost as much as you did, so they were up for whatever they could do to help you. So, you had been taking turns hanging out with all of the alphas besides your own. It was driving them crazy, and you were finally beginning to understand why the hell they had suggested it in the first place. 

Today just happened to be a game-day against the English Women’s National Team, and you were prepared to put an end to this nonsense. It all started with you being late to the bus. The moment you stepped into the vehicle, you could feel your mate's eyes on you, and you purposefully avoided them, instead, finding another alpha’s bright orbs. You smiled at her mischievously and began to make your way towards her. 

“Hey sweet cheeks,” Tobin called as you passed her, finally drawing your attention. You glanced down at her, and she patted the seat next to her. “I saved you a seat and included the cuddles for free,” She sent you a very cute, shy smile, opening her arms invitingly. You couldn’t help the giggle that left your lips. 

“Like she wants to be covered in your alpha stench Tobin,” Christen hissed from the other side of the aisle. Tobin around you at her. She had felt how much your omega wanted her cuddles, and the warmth her alpha could offer you. Christen had to go and fuck it up for her. 

“What you think she would prefer yours?” She growled back, releasing a steady stream of dominant pheromones, directed solely at Chris, but inadvertently hitting you as well. You rolled your neck fighting the urge to submit. It seemed as though they forgot you were there entirely. You sighed. 

“She obviously likes my sweater better,” Christen snarled, running her fingers down the side of your favorite Stanford sweater. You internally scolded yourself for wearing the damn thing. You should have known that it would start another pointless alpha battle, but it was just so soft, and you cuddle both of them in it, so their smell was engraved in the fabric. 

“Actually guys, I already promised Becky that I’d help her with her crossword, so you’re both on your own,” You mumbled lowly, stepping past the women and trudging towards Becky. 

“Look what you did,” You heard Tobin whisper after a few seconds.

“Me, this whole thing was your idea,” Christen huffed back. You smiled just a little at Becky, hopefully, this whole thing would be over soon. 

*****

The game against England was as much fun as you thought it was going to be. You had played for Arsenal and Man City, so it was always amazing to go against your old teammates and friends. It also helped that you scored 2 pretty sick goals. 

Your smile widened as you approached Leah, the blond alpha pulling you into a hug the moment you were in reach. You laughed for a moment, smirking at her as you pulled your jersey over your head. Passed it to the English player, who pulled her jersey off and handed it to you. 

Your days in the UK had not been a good time in your relationship with Chris and Tobin. It was just after the Rio Olympics and all of the emotional turmoil that came with it. You had missed the PK and though they wouldn’t say it, you knew that they blamed you for the loss. In a stupid argument they had said that they and the team were better off without you, and witching 24 hours you were in London preparing for practice with your new team. Arsenal. 

Leah had helped you pick up the pieces of your broken heart and sewed yourself back together. She taught you how to love yourself, even when you felt like your mates didn’t love you anymore. Leah was Jordan’s wholeheartedly, but the pair had taken you under their wing. It was a strong bond that your alphas absolutely despised. Maybe it was a low blow to use it against them, but maybe it was the perfect blow to end this stupid game.

Before you could pull the jersey over your head, it was ripped out of your hands, and you were thrown over a shoulder and headed towards the tunnel. You didn’t mind the view of your alpha’s behind, but the dominant pheromones that they were pumping out were making you dizzy. 

****

“You’re ours little omega,” They growled as they pushed you up against the cold tunnel wall. Tobin placing her lips on the left side of your neck and Christen doing the same on your right. Your knees almost buckled as they began to assault your neck in kisses, further marking you as their own. 

“No more games,” You said breathlessly, placing a hand on each of their chests and pushing them back. They didn’t deserve a reward after all the shit that they pulled. You were supposed to be mad at them.

“You broke the rules little one,” Tobin whispered, her lips ghosting over your mating mark, up to your cheek and caressing the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. Christen decided to lavish her mating mark in kisses. 

“No, you two were being jackasses, so I decided to play. No more games, or find out what other tricks I have in store for the two of you,” You growled, shoving the alpha’s away from you. They pulled their heads away making eye contact with you but still kept you pressed into the wall with their hips. 

“No more games,” Tobin said seriously. Her fingers squeezing your arm lightly, leaning in and placing a sweet kiss on your lips. 

“We’re sorry we were being stupid,” Christen whispered, kissing your cheeks, nose, and lips between each word. You hummed back, suddenly feeling guilty for using the team and Leah against them. 

“I’m sorry that I made you jealous,” You mumbled, suddenly finding your cleats very interesting. Gentle fingers cupped your chin, and soothing pheromones wrapped around you like the softest blanket. Your eyes lifted to meet a set of warm brown and green orbs looking at you concerned. Careful lips touched your own, and you knew that you were forgiven. 

“Well you won, so what’s your prize?” Christen said quietly against your cheek, her body heat warming your whole right side. 

“And cuddles, I deserve cuddles,” You moaned quietly. You had missed being able to be near both of your mates at the same time without them bickering over who you wanted to be with more. 

“lots of cuddles,” Tobin hummed against your skin. Your omega purred at the contact and your cheeks dusted pink when Tobin’s lips quarter up at the sound. 

“And maybe a bath,” Christen hummed, her alpha rumbling loudly in her chest at the content scents pouring off of you. How could they be so wrapped up in their competition that they didn’t notice what you needed? They had a shit ton of making up to do, and they knew just how much you loved skin on skin contact. Her hand splayed across your still bare stomach and she suddenly remembered that you were standing, pressed against the stone tunnel wall where everyone could see in only your sports bra. She slipped off her jersey and brought it over your head to cover you. No one but them got to see your abs. 

“A bath with the two of you sounds nice,” You hummed, laughing loudly when Tobin lifted you bridal style and began to carry you towards the showers, Christen yelling in protest as Tobin raced off without her. Sure they drove you crazy, but at the end of the day they were your mates and you loved them. 

[go--ask--alice]

Exordium

Alice, I Love You.

Ever since Alice’s confession of love, J has been struggling. He knows that he has very strong feelings for her, but love was never something he thought he’d feel for another person. Before he can confess his love to her, he needs to come to terms with it within himself.

Alice and J are currently getting ready to head out for a night at J’s club; The Smile & Grin. He wants to show off his beautiful new Queen for the world to see.

🃏: Joker

👑: Alice

------------

🃏 Bath time princess?

👑 That sounds wonderful!

🃏 You want a bath or a shower? Daddy wants to join, I’ll be good! *Starts laughing.*

👑 Hah! Well in that case, a shower. We may never leave the bathtub!!

🃏 *Runs and picks you up so your straddling me as we walk.* You have to be on your best behavior too.

👑 Mmm Daddy you are terrible!! *I run my hands over your exposed chest.*

🃏 Me? I’m a saint! Can’t you see my wings?

👑 *I look over your shoulder to your back.* Nope no wings here!! But you do have something sticking out of your hair? Yup! Look at those cute horns!

🃏 You see horns because you’re always horny. *Cackles*

👑 Me?? *Looks aghast.* I’m the angel here, how do you think I put up with all your devious antics?

🃏 *I put you down and give you a look.* Daddy is going to take off his clothes now and put a warm shower on. Can I trust you to be good? You know how you like to tease.

👑 *I bite my lip.* Yes Daddy, I’ll be good.

🃏 *I start slowly unbuttoning my shirt.*

👑 *I follow your hands as they move down your chest.*

🃏 *I snap my fingers.* Alice… Behave! Let me help you take that off. *I start unbuttoning your shirt as I press myself against you.*

👑 Oh Daddy.. you don’t play fair.

🃏 See? I took off your shirt while being a gentleman. Let’s see you take off my pants.

👑 *I reach forward and at a snails pace I tug your pants down your long legs, I coax each foot up and pull them completely off then hand them to you.*

🃏 *I watch you as you take my pants off. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.* Alice… how did you become so gorgeous?

👑 *I quickly turn bright red.* ..umm *I’m speechless.*

🃏 *I love how you blush. I reach out to touch your face and it’s warm.* Alice… Behave.

👑 I am Daddy. I just don’t know what to say to that.. no one’s ever spoken to me the way you do.

🃏 That is a grave oversight. Someone needs to tell you everyday, and I’ll make sure that it’s me. *Kisses your hand.*

👑 *I smile wide.* I love you. God.. so much.

🃏 *My eyes smile at you.* I’m going to wash you because I don’t know what will happen if I let you use your hands.

👑 *I can only nod, afraid if I keep talking I’ll make a fool of myself. I can’t help saying those words at any opportunity, but I can see in your eyes that it hurts just alittle bit to hear them.*

🃏 *I get into the shower first and hold my hand out for you watching like a hawk to make sure you don’t slip. If you were ever hurt I would die.*

👑 *I carefully step under the hot water with you. It feels amazing on my sore muscles. Being with you is more exercise than going to the gym.* Ahh that feels wonderful… *Just when I thought you couldn’t get any sexier, watching you naked, as hot water cascades down your pale lean body.. It’s almost more than I can handle.*

🃏 *I pull out a bottle of body wash and pour it onto your body. I rub my hands over your shoulders and massage as I wash you.* Tense sweetheart?

👑 *I let out a nervous laugh.* I’m fine J. Just trying to behave myself. You’re so very close and so very naked. I don’t think you fully realize the affect you have on me.

🃏 *I give you a devilish smile.* Maybe it would help if I wasn’t facing you? *I turn you around and pour shampoo into my hands and start to wash your hair. I pile your hair onto your head and work the shampoo in and then start to rinse it out and add conditioner. I hold you close to my body as my fingers run through it.*

👑 *I just want to melt into your body, you feel so good pressed up against me.* You know I’ve never had someone wash me like this before, it feels amazing!

🃏 Again… I’m surprised that you haven’t been pampered like this. You deserve every bit of it and more especially since you take such good care of me.

👑 *I lean my head on your shoulder and look up at you.* I’m glad you think I deserve all this.. I truly am.

🃏 *My hands trail down your back and over your breasts while I slowly wash you.*

👑 *Your touch is gentle, almost too gentle. This has to be as hard for you as it is for me.*

🃏 Alice… Are you behaving? *I smirk behind you.*

👑 Ye..yes Daddy. *I bite my lip to surpress a moan. I turn around in your arms. I want to see your gorgeous face. I trace one of the scars on your cheek, I’m trying to be good but I just want to feel you. I wrap my arms around your waist and hug you. No games… I just hold you as close to me as possible.*

🃏 *There is an overwhelming feeling sweeping over me. I feel it pouring out of me to you and out of you towards me. I know what it is. It feels too good. I become afraid. I’ve never felt this feeling. I didn’t think I was capable of giving it or accepting it. I clutch you to me. The shower is steaming but something feels cold inside. I worry that I’m stealing your warmth and that I’m poisoning the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.* Alice… I… don’t want to change you.

👑 *I look up at you confused.* Change me? J… you’re shaking.. are you alright?

🃏 I… I’m just… *I want to tell you but I don’t want you to worry. You are perfect. I don’t want you to be upset.*

👑 *I run my hand along your jaw.* J.. what is it?? *I’m starting to get concerned, I’ve never seen you like this.*

🃏 *I sit down on the bench in the shower and run my hands through my hair. Say something to her idiot now that you have her all upset.* Alice… you… *I swallow.* You… love me. *Saying the word makes the hairs on my body stand at attention.*

👑 Yes.. I do. Very much..

🃏 I have trouble comprehending the… the emotion. *Something inside me screams.* I feel as if.. You are the most… The way you are…. everything you do is… *I am starting to babble. I am so frustrated with myself. I clench my fist.* This is… I have a… a good feeling inside. I’m sorry… I don’t know what I’m saying. Excuse me. *I am mortified. I leave the shower without even drying. I start to run into the master bedroom and slip onto the marble.*

👑 *My legs feel like they’re about to give out, I sit down on the floor of the shower with my mouth hanging open, dumbfounded. I can’t move, I feel like we’ve been in this same position before. On our first night together.*

🃏 *I pound my fists repeatedly onto the marble and force myself to get up. I feel a shooting pain down my leg. I don’t want you to see me like this. Weak, naked, babbling about my… love. I limp into the bedroom and sit on the matress with my head in my hands.*

👑 *The water is still running, I couldn’t care less. I slowly walk into the bedroom, my body wrapped in a large towel and hair loose dripping down my back. You’re hunched over sitting on the end of the bed. My heart breaks looking at you.*

🃏 *I realize that you’ve walked in and I try to “man up”. It come out as an angry snarl. I’m like an abused animal growling at the only person who loves it.*

👑 *I keep my distance. I can’t read you right now which scares me.*

🃏 *I get up and immediately wince in pain and sit back down. I’m not going anywhere right now despite my stubborn want to run.*

👑 *I take a hesitant step towards you.* Mr…. J… ?

🃏 *Hearing your sweet voice snaps me out of my delirium.* Yes baby doll… come here.

👑 *I come closer, still worried.* Did I.. did I do something wrong? I pushed you too hard. I’m so sorry…

🃏 No… *My face is pained.* …It’s… it’s not anything you did Alice. You are perfect, I am so happy with you. Please listen to this explanation and try to hear through a madman’s words.

👑 Then tell me. Tell me what to do. I can’t stand to see you like this, I can see the pain in your eyes.

🃏 I’m starving. I’m so starving that I’m afraid I might eat your entire heart.

👑 *I sit next to you on the bed, I pull my knees up to my chest.*

🃏 *I smack my head when I say the words.* Ah… that was stupid. *I decide to be honest.* I’m afraid of this feeling. I’m not afraid of anything. You can see the problem right?

👑 You’re… afraid to love me?

🃏 *I quickly grab your hand and kiss it.* I.. l think it’s too late for that. But I don’t want to hurt you. What if I… change you?

👑 Well it's to late to worry about that. I’m here for the long haul. I trust you not to hurt me. And if I change, then I change. Why does change have to be a negative thing?

🃏 You are perfect.

👑 J.. I’m not perfect. No one is.

🃏 What if I poison you with my imperfections? With my criminality. You deserve stability.

👑 Look at me. *I put my hands on either side of your face.*

🃏 *I look at you instantly.*

👑 I know what you are. I knew before I stepped foot into your club. It does not matter. I had no idea that night when I snuck into your bar that we’d be here right now. Never in my wildest dreams! You are more than I could ever ask for. I still don’t feel like I deserve the attention and affection you give me. But for some reason you’re convinced that I’m… perfect. *Now I’m rambling. I laugh out of frustration.*

🃏 Alice how can you not know? *I look at you confused.*

👑 How do I get it into your thick skull how fucking important you are.

🃏 You are literally made for me.

👑 Then have me!

🃏 *I chuckle nervously. I can’t believe I said that. My heart beats quickly. I feel lightheaded.*

👑 I’m HERE for your taking!

🃏 *I pull back with a surprised expression on my face and then start laughing like mad. I’ve never seen you do that before.*

👑 What! What’s so funny??

🃏 You… You yelled.

👑 You won’t listen! You’re so fucking stubborn.

🃏 *I try to stop laughing. I know you’re frustrated. It’s so funny though. That loud yell coming from little sweet you.*

👑 I tell you I love you and I feel like you don’t want to believe me. Do you have ANY idea how frustrating that is???

🃏 You know… you’re sexy when you’re frustrated. No baby no… I want it I’m sorry I’m sorry.

👑 J.. I’m serious. I’ve never been more serious in my life.

🃏 I know. Here goes… No one has ever loved me. I’ve never loved before, teach me. I think that I do… Love you. *Alarm bells sound in my brain.*

👑 ……..*I’m shaking.*

🃏 Have patience with me… I’m an old dog. It’s hard to teach us new tricks.

👑 Sa….say that… say that again…

🃏 Alice…

👑 Please.. I need to know I’m not hearing things.

🃏 *Suddenly I feel bashful. I’ve never felt that emotion either. I grab a pillow and hide my face under it.*

👑 *I grab the pillow, probably alittle to rough.* Look at me.

🃏 *I look at you and purse my lips. I’m nervous.*

👑 *You’re blushing. I put my hand on your cheek.* …warm.. *I chuckle.*

🃏 *I bite my lip and grab your wrist and then kiss it.*

👑 *Some how you always find a way to make me smile. Even when I try to be angry with you. My heart is still racing like mad.*

🃏 That’s how it feels huh? To be flush in the face.

👑 Mmhmm.. not so bad is it?

🃏 You walk around feeling like your heart is going to knock the walls of your rib cage out all day long? Stupendous.

👑 When I look at you? Yes. *I hold your face in my hands.*

🃏 *Squint my eyes and stare at you trying not to smile.* You know… you still have soap on you. *I chuckle.*

👑 I don’t care.. Haha *I kiss you.* You know.. you’re still naked?

🃏 This is my favorite outfit I think it’s yours too.

👑 *I whisper.* It is.. shhh..

🃏 Alice, don’t ever let them put me back in Arkham.

👑 Never.

🃏 *Your prompt response makes me reach out and hug you.* I do think you might like the way I look in that straight jacket though. *Cackles*

👑 I’ll turn this world upside down if they ever take you away from me.

🃏 I believe you. I mean - if you yell like you did earlier they might pay you to take me back.

👑 I’d cause a scene like you wouldn’t image! Worst case scenario they’ll lock me up with you. I’d lose my mind if you were gone.

[who-is-olivia]

Track 9. Woman

Harry Styles x OC x Fionn Whitehead

Harry has a fit of jealousy during the Dunkirk premiere so Olivia teaches him how to share. [5.6k]

Genre: smut

Warnings: sexual language

  July 2018

  Harry’s getting ready for the Dunkirk premiere in his London flat, where Lou Teasdale and Harry Lambert made their HQ. When he’s finally done, he waits for Olivia. He had Harry design a custom gown specially for her, he hasn’t seen it yet so expectations are high.

  First come the footsteps, heels clicking against the wooden floor. His eyes shoot up to the hallway and there she is. A deep red velvet gown contrasts with the clear pattern of the walls, bodice hugging her chest tightly as the skirt leaves a gap through which her leg shows. Her dark skin glistens on the ceiling lights, only her jewels shine brighter: a Cartier choker and bracelet, nothing more. Harry can’t stop that silly grin from showing, it’s inevitable.

“I know, I look so good!” she teases and they all laugh at her unbridled pride. “Really, I look like a skanky witch!”

“That’s what I was channeling for the dress” Lambert comments through his giggles.

“You can’t even tell I gave birth like... few months ago”

  Harry can tell she’s still a bit insecure about her body but if not she looks even more gorgeous. The baby didn’t take as much of a toll on her as she thought it would. She did gain weight but she was way too skinny to begin with so if anything she looks an average size. Right now, little Rio is spending some quality time with her nana and Harry has to hold himself as to not keeping calling to check on her. Last time he checked, she was sleeping soundly and eating everything her crazy aunt Gemma was preparing.

“You look amazing” Harry hugs her waist and pecks her cheek, holding her possessively. Right on time, Jeff walks through the front door.

“The car is waiting outside, is everybody ready?”

“Yes, coming in a minute, go ahead” Olivia hurries to pick her bag and give Lou a warm and thankful hug.

  After all the goodbyes are over, Harry rests a hand on her exposed back and leads her out, making sure she’s always at arm’s length. When they’re in the elevator, she adjusts her braids in front of the mirror and, on the corner of her eye, notices he’s staring. Instead of messing with him she just winks at his reflection.

  He loves it, the whole outfit, but the dress makes him a bit uncomfortable. He can see it already, all those pretty young actors running their hands on her bare arms and hugging her bare back, their indiscreet glances towards her cleavage. Harry clenches his fist involuntarily. Calmness resurfaces naturally, but then he remembers Fionn.

  Fionn Whitehead made very clear during the shootings of “Dunkirk” that he had eyes for Olivia. By that time they were not married yet but they were in a good moment, so she came over during her weekends off just to visit him and get to know a bit of France. It was a bit of a strike to his ego to know Fionn had the hots for her, not only because of the threat he supposedly was but because Harry also had the hots for him – and no shame of it. Now they’re about to meet again, and Oli looks impossible not to look.

“Earth to Harry” she waves at him when they arrive at the parking lot, “you okay?”

“Sure, love” he holds her hand and brings the back of it to his lips.

“How’s Rio? Everything alright?”

“Right as rain, mum’s loving it” he chuckles.

“I miss my baby” she pouts playfully and he mimics her, like two children mocking each other.

“We’ll pick her up first thing in the morning, until then we got a Christopher Nolan premiere, can you believe?”

“Still trying to process that... look, if I try to grab Cillian Murphy, please stop me”

“I promise I won’t” he mocks and she chuckles fondly. He does know her so well.

  Harry rushes to greet the chauffeur with a handshake and open the door to Olivia, helping her inside. He then walks to the other side of the car, adjusting his fist cuffs before sitting beside her.  She holds the excess of fabric so he can snuggle in and wrap an arm around her shoulders. The way she crosses her legs makes her knees and calf slip through a gap in the skirt, she doesn’t mind it but he does. It’s impossible not to stare in awe at how sexy she looks in this dress. When the soft material slips, it creeps to reveal her thigh, soft against the velvet like a jewel inside its box. It’s getting harder to focus elsewhere, so he gently rests his hand on her exposed knee making her turn.

“You look amazing in that dress” he whispers on her ear, biting just a bit of it. She chuckles darkly  and gets more comfortable against his side, feeling the heat in the car rise instantly as he nuzzles the side of her neck. “Can’t wait to get it off-“

“You two, behave!” Jeff takes the front seat of the car and they part slightly, finally taking the streets.

Olivia clears her throat. “So, what’s the movie about again?”

“It’s about the evacuation of Dunkirk beach, when these small civilian ships went to rescue the English soldiers” he briefly explains.

“Why did they have to be rescued?”

“Because the Germans invaded France and surrounded them”

“Ok, but why the civilians? Where was the navy?” she shakes her head confusedly and he giggles.

“I thought you were good in history”

She takes a bit of distance and smugly claims: “I am, I know my history, thank you very much”

“Alright, fair enough” he quits arguing, knowing better than to step on her national pride.

“Who do you play in the movie?”

“He can’t disclaim that” Jeff interrupts and they turn their eyes to him.

“I think I can disclaim that to my wife” Harry shrugs in disbelief.

“No, that’d break the contract, you can’t disclaim that” he sticks a finger in front of his nose. “Don’t make me get you out of trouble”

“Alright, grandpa” he mocks and turns back to Oli who grins amusedly.

 They arrive at the red carpet and leave the fancy car, Harry once more walking around adjusting his suit before opening the door for her and helping her out. The cameras follow them from their first step, capturing how he keeps a hand on her back at every move, making sure he’s the only one to touch her.

“If you get tired of the pictures, let me know” he says in her ear before laying a small kiss on her cheekbone.

“It’s ok, Haz” she smiles and follows him to the first step of the red carpet: the fans. His fans are not exactly fond of her, but she understands that nobody will ever be worthy of their idol so she doesn’t take it personally. But she also knows some of his fanbase follows her musical career as well and appreciate it, so is no surprise when they ask for pictures with her.

  They go forward on the red carpet path paying attention to who calls their names, she reaches the end sooner than he, as she has less demands, and greets some of Harry’s co-stars.

“Hey Oli, remember me?” a young man with dark hair and fancy suit asks.

“Fionn, right?” she makes a fake guessing antic. She knows precisely who he is, as she hardly forgets someone so pretty and so devastatingly charming. They met when she visited the set in France, watching him from a distance and low-key hitting on him. She assumed Harry didn’t mind, after all he also had a huge crush on his co-star.

“Yes” he smiles and hugs her, pulling away a bit to chat but she holds his hand in a friendly manner.

“Sorry, you guys all look so alike, I’m still trying to figure it out” they laugh. From a distance, Harry divides his attention between the fans and their cameras, and Fionn placing a hand on Olivia’s bare back, leading her away to meet the cast.

  When she meets Cillian Murphy, it’s hard to tell who’s more excited: Oli for meeting her idol or Cillian for meeting such a gorgeous woman. Harry thought he would enjoy the scene but it couldn’t be more of the contrary. When they part, he smiles and lays an earnest kiss on the back of her hand. Something inside him immediately ticks and he doesn’t like it. He rushes through the last pictures and autographs, keeping track of her hugging and laughing with the guys. He tries not to get cranky and maintain a soft smile, but it’s getting under his skin. When Fionn leans to whisper something in her ear, hands stroking her waist over the velvet and pulling her close, it’s the last drop.

  Harry excuses himself and skips a whole section of fans to make his way to Olivia, putting on a mask of civility but internally burning Fionn with his eyes. He first takes Oli’s hand and kisses her forehead, then stares down at his co-stars, catching one of them staring down her cleavage.

“How you doing chap?” Harry offers a hand for him to shake and dragging his eyes away from her.

“Harry” he nods, shaking his hand.

“Think you all know my wife, I need to steal her for a moment” he tugs on her hand and urges her to follow.

“Nice to meet you, guys!” They get in the queue for the photographs and before they even stand in front of the cameras, he wraps an arm around her possessively. “Why are you jealous?” she whispers between them.

“I’m not jealous...?” he clumsily denies.

“You just used the W word like a dominant alpha male” she smiles vaguely amused while he chuckles embarrassedly. “I know you like the back of my hand, Edwards”

“So do I, Maria” she makes a mock betrayed face but laughs all along. “Let’s never use middle names again, please”

“Let'sr... but really, Haz, what’s under your skin? You’re acting weird”

He sighs, knowing better than to keep it inside. “I don’t like the way he’s touching you”

She turns her head to the cast gathering. “Who? Fionn? I thought you liked Fionn” she whispers between them, “like... really liked Fionn... what’s the word for that? When you got the hots for someone?”

“Fancy?”

“Yeah”

“Alright, I might fancy Fionn, but I fancy you even more and I don’t like it when he gets familiar” he explains candidly, making sure they’re the only ones listening to the conversation.

“What if I like it?”

He chuckles, not expecting that answer – although he should. “Then let me know” he smirks.

“Harry, you’re up” Jeff indicates, guiding both of them to the designated spot.

  He poses in a relaxed manner, holding her close against his side like a proud peacock showing off his mate. In his mind, there’s hardly any woman as stunning as her in the red carpet, so when the cameras flash in their direction, he knows she’s glowing. He can’t help but look at her in awe and happily let the cameras capture every ounce of love pouring down his eyes as she smiles confidently to the photographers.

“Everything ok?” he asks discreetly.

“My irises are burning” she sings the last word and he chuckles, pulling her away from the blinking lights and to the movie theater’s doors where the last pictures are supposed to be taken. “Harry, where are you!? Gah, I can’t see anything!” she plays, blinking mockingly.

He laughs and pulls her against his back, her makeup staining his dark suit but they don’t mind. “Hold on, love” she envelops him by the waist, not so shy when it comes to public displays of affection. Holding on to his back, she tries to mimic his steps like a child until they have to pose again. “Last one, I promise”

  They take few last pictures with her snuggling his side and him holding her embrace, both smiling wide and proud for the world to see. When they’re done, Fionn shows up again, straightening his front buttons like a classy gentleman.

“You doing any interviews now?” he asks Harry.

“Yeah, just a couple ones” he replies.

“‘Right, I’ll walk in and take a seat. I can take Oli if you want” for a moment, Harry’s brain almost fires a violent chain reaction, but she leans a hand discreetly on his chest to calm him down.

“I can take myself, thank you very much, but I’ll take the company” she nods charismatically then turns to give jealous-boy some attention. “I’ll wait inside, be nice!”

“I’m always nice” he steals a kiss from her lips and grins smugly, watching her take Fionn’s arm and walk inside the movie theater.  

  The movie is a tragically beautiful tale of patriotism and hope, and despite belonging to a completely different culture, Olivia gives credit to the pride and heroism of the British people. She stands up to clap at the end, turning to praise all the actors and specially Harry, whose narcissistic side doesn’t mind being pandered to. After the screening, the crew serves a flute of champagne for the guests as Chris Nolan makes a grand toast, extending the reception for a couple more hours of refined chattering.

“Fionn!” Harry laces the man’s shoulders, pressing him in a strangely intimate way. “You were bloody brilliant”

“You’re drunk” he laughs, feeling his alcoholic breath fan across his face.

“I’m not, I’m just a bit cheery. Listen, they’re almost wrapping up, do you wanna come over to my place?”

“Sure, I mean... is Oli okay with it?” he stutters a bit. Fionn is very fond of the couple, and they’ve been really friendly so far, he would dedicate a couple more hours of his life to spend some time with them.

“Of course”

“Alright then, but I can’t stay long, I’ve got a flight in the morning”

“We’ll just get some wine, it won’t take long. I’ll just say goodbye to everyone”

  The three of them are thrown over the back seat of a limousine, a bit more giggly than usual but still able to hold a conversation. They struggle to get to the door and unlock it but eventually they make it and get comfortable on the living room. Olivia lays over the black fabric of the sofa, laughing at some witty commentary Fionn just made while Harry pulls her shoes off. He knows she’s really weak when it comes to alcohol, it’s better to just leave her light and jolly on the living room than to make her break things in the kitchen.

“Thanks sweetheart” she smiles endearingly to Harry as he turns to reach the kitchen and serve them some appetizers.

“Is he some kind of slave?” Fionn mocks, undressing his suit’s jacket.

“Sure, he’s my white slave. It’s historical justice” she fires back, sitting up straight to look at him. “You can sit down”

“I should help Harry in the kitchen”

“Nonsense, you’re our guest” she holds him and pulls him by the hand to sit beside her, while she supports her arm on the backboard and turns her body towards him.

“I don’t know, I think he’s mad at me or something. Don’t you think he’s acting weird?”

“I’ll tell you a secret” she leans very close to his ear. “He’s jealous”

“Why would he be jealous?” he asks with a curious grin.

Her dozy eyes look at him amusedly as she bites her bottom lip, like a child boasting about something. “He doesn’t like other men touching me”

“That’s silly”

“I know, but he can’t help it. He just needs to learn how to share...” his words die on his throat as his drunken brain works through the meaning of her words. Now he’s excited to know how this night is going to end.

Finally Harry walks in with a plate of snacks and three glasses. Fionn attempts to put some distance between him and Oli, but she holds him back with a playful look. “Here we go, I’ll get some wine. Do you like rosé, Fionn?”

“Uh- sure”

“Great, it’s all we’ve got” Harry reaches the nearby wine rack, turning back to the two of them in the sofa. “Oli doesn’t like red wine, so it’s either that or white”

“I don’t mind, mate” he helps himself with a handful of nuts while Harry pours the rosé in their glasses.

“Shall we make a toast?” Olivia gets up and takes her glass, raising it to both the men. “Here’s to your brilliant performances and to the beautiful mastermind of Christopher Nolan”

“I wanna raise a toast” Fionn interrupts, “to the two of you, one of the loveliest couples I’ve ever met. Cheers guys”

“Cheers mate” they clink their glasses and down the contents in few sips, falling back on the couch right after. The way they seat has Oli in the middle, her back thrown over Harry’s chest and Fionn right beside her.

“Did you like the premiere?” he asks.

“I did, it was really fancy... I would’ve enjoyed more if Harry wasn’t so moody”

“I’m not moody” he defends himself, making a nonsensical antic to Fionn.

“I can’t greet a couple of handsome young men that you immediately put on a pout”

“One of these young men was staring at your tits”

“Who was it?” the gossipy bitch inside Fionn begs to know.

“Jack, that creepy pervert”

“Don’t be so harsh on him, he just went through puberty” Harry laughs, “he’s still nervous around pretty girls”

“Why thank you Fionn” she regards his implicit compliment.

“My pleasure, Oli” he shoots her a charming grin and hold her eyes for ransom, making the air heavy with tension.

“Get a room, you two” they laugh at Harry’s taunting until Olivia decides to spice up the game.

“Why a room” she crawls to straddle Fionn’s lap, keeping a respectful distance in a disrespectful position. “You know I like it better in the sofa”

“Is that so?” Fionn raises a brow, deciding to tag along. Instead of breaking the act in on itself, Harry decides to push it as far as it goes and flex the stiff attitude that bugged him all afternoon.

“Go on then, don’t mind me” he pours some rosé in his glass before returning to a comfortable position in his seat.

  Olivia smirks at him before looking down at Fionn, brushing her lips against his teasingly, making him reach up for her, only then does she concede for theirs lips to touch. It starts like an innocent kiss, but then she slowly runs her hips up and down Fionn’s, testing his restrained control. Harry bites the inside of his cheek, determined not to be consumed by jealousy but entertained by his cheeky wife’s little game, even as Fionn runs his hands over her velvet covered ass. She pull his hair down, exposing his neck to her tender sensual kisses and Fionn basks in her affection, all worries about taking it too far are gone from his mind as long as she takes the first steps. She runs her lips over his jaw, smudging it with lipstick until she finds his mouth again and kisses it through a grin, she’s loving it. But it can get better.

Still straddling Fionn, she turns to Harry with a tempting smirk. “You’re just gonna watch?”

“If you insist” he gets up, leaving his suit jacket on the sofa’s armrest. He stands behind Olivia, gathering her braids and resting them over a shoulder, exposing the other one for him. He lets her dress strip slide down her arm, grasping her waist as his lips lay waste to her shoulder and neck, leaving little love bites on her dark skin. Fionn makes himself useful leaning over her and running his lips over the whole extent of her cleavage, savoring the salty taste of her skin comparing to the bittersweetness of her wine flavored lips.

  At some point, Fionn nuzzles in Harry’s cheek and he presses a kiss to it, giving Harry the queue he was waiting for. He licks Fionn’s lips unapologetically before they share a steamy kiss against the shell of Oli’s ear. She smiles to herself, proud of accomplishing a little treat for herself and also for her husband, whom she knows takes great pleasure in the company of both men and women. They never thought their marriage should be restrictive, little games like this just prove the point.

“This is what happens when you share, Styles” she laughs to herself and the men stop the kiss to join her.

“As usual you were right, love” he pecks her cheek, “now why don’t we take this to the bedroom?”

“Yeah, that’s better” Fionn agrees and supports Oli while she straddles out of him, walking towards the hallway in a nearby corner of the flat. Harry and Fionn look at each other with lust before following her and shutting the door.

“Before we start, a few rules” Harry walks to his bedside table while Fionn crawls over Oli on the bed. Before he can kiss her sweet lips again, a small pack hits his head. “If you’re gonna fuck my wife, wear a rubber”

“Such a drama queen” she chuckles at her theatrical life-long partner.

“Also- look at me” he cups Fionn’s jaw and pull his attention, “If anyone wants to stop, we all stop”

“Fine by me” he reaches and bites Harry’s lip teasingly. They both start to undress their formal buttons shirt, standing shirtless over a gasping Olivia who is still dressed in a fancy gown. Fionn leans over Oli and rolls her over to straddle him now without any concern for a respectful distance, so she unapologetically rubs her panties against his growing bulge, he shuts his eyes and sighs, imagining how her cunt would feel around him. Harry drops his pants to the floor, crawling on his boxers until he reaches the close of her dress, sliding down the zipper so the fabric pools on her waist revealing her round breasts. He cups them from behind and they fit perfectly in his hand, specially when he traps her nipples between his fingers making them hard as rock.

  Oli stands over the bed, letting the velvet slip to her feet before discarding it on the ground. On her absence, Harry reaches for Fionn, climbing him and ravishing his body from his chest up to his lips with tantalizing kisses and love bites. In return he cups his ass cheeks, reaching under the waistband to creep between them and sliding a slim finger in there, something Harry didn’t get in a long time. With his moaning consent, Fionn sticks said finger in his entrance, playing in and out as he cries in pleasure only with a small teasing, sparking his curiosity to explore his body as well as Olivia’s. For a moment she doesn’t participate, just sits on a bed corner pleasing herself at the sight of her gorgeous husband being finger fucked by a really handsome and charming man.

“Look at that” Fionn nods in her direction and Harry turns to look, finding his wife reaching inside her panties to touch herself away from them. “Fuck Harry, you’re wife is so hot” he whispers, turned on by her quiet moans.

“I know” he holds Fionn’s hand away for a moment just so he can pull Olivia closer, snatching her hand out of her pants and laying her on the duvet, joining her in a sandwich between her and Fionn, allowing him to tease his ass while he pays attention to his wife. Harry slides a finger inside her mouth and she sucks on it sensually, running the texture of her tongue against his salty skin before it leaves her lips with a pop. She makes herself more comfortable in his arms while he takes his slick fingers where her hand previously was to stroke her folds and flick the swollen nub between them. The sensation of her on his finger tips isn’t enough, he needs to taste her, but at the same time Fionn replaces his finger with the head of his cock, pressing its entrance on the difficult spot until the muscle relaxes and he buries his length inside Harry. “Mhmm fuck...”

The wave of pleasure that hits him distracts him from the finger work he was doing on her. “Hey, don’t stop” she whispers cupping his cheek. Still a bit dazed, he sticks two fingers inside her and do the best he can to please her, alternating between languid teasing strokes and fast hard stocks. Fionn thrusts mercilessly into Harry, holding up a thigh to get a better angle while he comes undone in his arms, but at one point he has to take a break, leaning across Harry to kiss Olivia. She smiles through the kiss, giving him those big brown lustful eyes before they shut in a spasm of pleasure. If he wasn’t so tucked inside Harry, he’d fuck her right now.

“Fuck, you’re so good” he whispers on the shell of his ear before thrusting hard and deep, wrenching a groan from him before returning to a faster pace. The quicker Fionn gets, the more Harry works his fingers in Olivia, to the point her walls clutch him throbbing in pleasure and she cries out one last time finally reaching the first orgasm of the night. Harry comes right after, pressing his head on her chest and moaning one long note of ecstasy while Fionn kisses his back and Olivia his lips. Fionn doesn’t want to cum inside Harry, so he pulls himself out and do so in his hand, looking down on the other two immersed in their embrace. He already pleased Harry enough, now he wants Olivia. Fionn crawls back in bed beside her, cupping her other cheek so she can face him. “May I?”

“Absolutely” she leans to kiss him while Harry stands to his elbows.

“Oi... you didn’t ask before you fucked me” he complains with a hint of mockery and Fionn clumsily breaks the kiss to answer.

“Sorry mate, I’ll ask next time” he smirks, pulling her panties down while staring at Harry. He reaches down to kiss her hip, throwing the piece of lace on the ground before placing himself between her thighs. Fionn can feel her cunt still throbbing from her previous orgasm, it won’t take much for her to cum again. He tries to look at her before he kisses her folds, but Harry covers his view as they make out right in front of him, so he carries on giving her one long teasing lick  savoring her sweetness, then flicking his tongue against her pulsing clit. She hums against Harry’s mouth, kissing him harder when Fionn traps the nub on his lips and suck on it, letting go with a plop. The soft pad of his tongue against her sensitive bundle of nerves is driving Oli insane, that and having Fionn trapped between her thighs. She’s about to cum for the second time when he keeps flicking on her, she’s so close, she can feel his warm mouth humming in pleasure as he tastes her, her hips twitch and her muscles tense, wanting to press him harder then physically possible. Harry notices her spurring and looks down at Fionn ravishing his wife. A spike of jealousy hits him as she comes undone beneath him, he wants to make her cry in pleasure like this, coming so hard she’s a bumbling mess after.

“You like that?” he asks while Fionn wipes her cum from his chin.

“Fuck yes” she gasps as he lays closer, making her sandwich between the two. Harry pulls him for a quick kiss, tasting his wife from another man’s lips is strangely sensual to him. But Fionn doesn’t indulge Harry for long, he has other things in mind regarding Olivia.

  Fionn runs his touch up her chest until he cups her jaw and kisses her lips teasingly, licking her bottom lip before sliding his tongue on her mouth. He rolls over parting her legs to better accommodate himself not breaking the kiss, then runs a finger between her crease feeling how wet she still is from his mouth. She feels so warm under his touch, so eager, he’s aching hard to fuck her ever since she walked in the red carpet in that sinful velvet dress, now that she’s under him legs wide spread, he’s already on edge. Harry helps Oli to lay her head on his shoulder as he watches the whole thing go down. Fionn reaches the silver pack and slides the rubber carefully before finally burying himself deep inside her throbbing cunt until his base hits her clit, and he has to keep the instinct of immediately bobbing his hips, just a bit of friction will end him. So instead he swirls his hips, taking just a bit of his length out before sliding back in languidly.

“Oh fuck... Fionn...” she whimpers at his tortuous delicious pace.

“You want more?” he thrusts harder causing her to gasp each time their hips collide. Where before she was wet now she’s dripping, so tight he even struggles to pull out, not on his wildest dreams did her pussy feel so fucking good. “You like that, huh? Finally a different cock to make you cum” she moans, feeling him pick up the pace and almost hit her tender spot. The anticipation for him to hit makes her toes curl, nonetheless his size feels incredible rubbing in and out of her, specially when he spreads her legs wider making him reach even deeper. He loses his pace for a moment, holding a knee under his arm and thrusting a little slower, giving her the chance to breath because she knows the moment he picks up that pace she’ll cum. “You feel so good, taking me cock like that, do you want more?” he thrusts harder and her orgasm starts to build, "you want more huh?” somehow he goes even faster, burying his entire length violently and clashing their hips with a dirty sound, but not as dirty as her gasps of pleasure, building up to a point when she clutches him even tighter and screams, her orgasm eminent.

“Right there... oh fuck! Yes! Right- oh!” she cries, the spasms taking her on a high that ends with an exhausted sigh and the unclenching of her cunt right after he also cums inside his rubber. “That was amazing” she struggles to say as he falls over her chest, stealing a kiss from her. The last thing he wants is to remove himself from her warm pussy, but then he notices Harry’s not so amused face.

  He can’t imagine how that must feel: having your best friend buried deep inside your wife, someone with whom you have so much experience and a love so intense you choose to spend your life together. He knows Harry is easily jealous, he also knows he’a overly indulgent to his wife, so of course he’d play a sex game just to entertain her – and take bit of enjoyment for himself as he did love being fucked on the ass. But maybe fucking her so hard was too much. Harry would never say so, again, doing his best to indulge his wife, but he wasn’t ok with that. So he pulls out and decides it’s time to go.

He climbs over Oli to kiss her delicious pump lips one last time. “You guys are amazing” he pants, leaning to kiss Harry as well, “I’ll never forget this”

“Neither will we” he replies.

“I better go now, I’ve got a flight to catch in the morning” he excuses, looking for the missing parts of his suit.

“So soon?” she asks sitting up.

“Yeah, I’m sorry guys”

“No problem man, I’ll take you to the door” Harry dresses a house robe and waits for Fionn to properly collect himself. He kisses Oli on the cheek to say goodbye and follows Harry out.

“You know we have a lot of interviews together this week?” Fionn comments to lighten the mood, although Harry doesn’t seem moody, on the contrary, he’s grinning.

“That’ll be interesting” he opens the door and hugs him goodbye.

“Thank you for that... I hope I didn’t overstep or anything-“

“You didn’t, you were great” Harry smiles and kisses the crook of his neck playfully. “Right, off you go now”

“See you around, Harold” he winks walking out the door and leaving the events of the night behind. When he walks inside the uber, he closes his eyes and let them all come crashing in with a boyish smile.

Olivia walks to the kitchen on her house robe, watching Harry close the door and walk up to her. She serves both of them a rosé glass with a tiny smirk creeping on her cheeks. “So... is he as good in the back as he is in the front?” he laughs at her spontaneous commentary, “Welcome to my TedTalk”

“You’re crazy” he hugs her back tightly, “crazy and deranged... and brilliant”

“Why thank you” she hands him a glass of rosé and they clink, no need to verbalize what they’re toasting before drinking the wine.

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Masterlist

[lesbiansastiel]

i asked my gf who’s never watched spn to tell me what these pictures of spn characters make them think:

he has very bad promo pictures

ofc its sam! .. is that sam?

your favourite, theres at least 8000 lgbt headcanons for him

he definitely peels apples before eating them

no idea

he looks like hes in a cereal commercial

propably plays fortnite???

oh my god what the fuck

his parents needed money so he was forced to do promo pics for a school and if u uncrop this picture hes holding a backpack and a book that says like. ABC

haircut is making me think thats young sam but im not sure

me: that is young sam

ok cool!

thats a homophobe. i know a homophobe when i see one

me: the actor is

i know that thats dean, leather jacket looks smelly

i dont like or trust him bc his voice is too low, no offense

but he was funny in that episode when they thought they were... when they were the actors, i like that they shamed the actors (jensen ankles?) trailer

i always assume hes dead, every time i see him im like oh fuck hes not dead yet????

he looks like he dies first in a zombie game protecting the protagonists daughter

opens beer cans with knives (stabbing them from above)

has touristy fridge magnets

hillbilly neighbour that just stuck around

later: OH HIS NAME IS bobby

um........ lost journalist from a chick-flick

looks too enthusiastic to be in this show

name starts w an R and dies dramatically and causes trauma for multiple people?

me: its charlie

oh....

me: do you know who that is?

shes the one that causes angst in ur fanfic? someone’s ex? writes paranormal articles- like someone who works in a pokemon centre and takes care of the reporting to the media i know this is not true but that’s how it should be based on characted design

why.. what is that shirt

she looks like she’s from twin peaks but like a weird 90s techno nostalgia version

probably not real, but someones hallucination, like a little sister that someone lost and then hallucinates coming back?????

me: that’s jess.. from my fic

oh no im so sorry, i thought that the previous one was that one

then thats like a college person who sam did like drugs and beer with and they were happy and then she died.. tragic :(

umm öööööö, uhhhh

kinda looks like a serial killer, like a bad one who hasnt killed anyone in years so his face is tired. he wants flesh

um,i say um to everyone im so sorry

he has a conflicted expression

i think he’s sassy or just tired of everyone

no idea who that is.. i just feel sorry for this character idk why

*laughs*

a 12-year-old who got a toy gun for christmas bc hes american

hes gay probably and pretending to like guns so his dad doesnt get disappointed

for real, in this show, a young new hunter and messes up and then does one heroic thing and dies immediately after?

this looks like the perfect love interest who dies dramatically and is relationship with an important man character whose controlling when she wants to be independent and doesnt want to hide in a basement like the man wants her to

me: ??????????????????

she also looks like a cop like every woman in this show somehow but her character design is too soft to be a tv cop woman lady

2009 hair

probably a cop?

is styled in a way that always looks way too make-uppy and probably wears heels to work bc this is a bad character design show

me: shes not a human i can say that much

then shes a demon bc thats what all the women are in this show, theyre all demons

i hope shes not evil, this might be trap she looks friendly but that isnt the truth

this looks like a slightly messy and like, bohemic twin of the reporter that works in a pokemon centre

is probably rich

lots of anger that is not showcased in this picture

clenched fists

all in all, suspicious

probably supposed to be related since theyre in the same picture and different ages but they dont look related at all

they look like they’re from teen wolf

and probably would star in a scene where they see that someone has key’ed their car and theyre like fuuuuck

i think this character is supposed to be a cool friend woman whose not supposed to be super feminine and love-interesty bc shes wearing plaid and drinkin beer but they Failed

probably a werewolf

also is she wearing nothing under that plaid what is this...

me: oh fuck why is this picture so HQ compared to the rest...

it’s bc he’s an angel

obscene amount of powers that seem useless bc if he actually had Power they wouldnt need this show and he could just figure everything out

i know that people wear those annoying pins that say theyre waiting for an angel in trench coat. but i dont think he’s ever going to come :(

i think his name is castiel and mishaapocalypse happened w his face

and i saw his face taped to a mcdonald door in a small town in finland

yet another teen wolf character

looks like a suspicious teenager who lives in a town where they (the brothers) stop to get gas and he’s hanging out at the gas station

hes like heyyy youre not like other people here are you perhaps... hunters bc my mom died and now my house is haunted

daddy issues

me: correct

um. another beer lady. probably, people have decided, a lesbian

looks like a stock photo of someone eating salad at a rural setting after a hard day at work milking cows

also somehow looks like works in a lab

is related to the weird open-flannel-no-t-shirt woman (the beer one), probably her mom

thats all

um. major demon

probably has a scene where she tries to kill someone with a knife seductively

hated in the fandom and in fanfic someone who tries to steal deans man (which is stupid bc deans a homophobe anywaY)

also looks like fantasy show self-insert but evil

me: i think that’s a teenager

welcome to my twisted mind

im sorry...

happy

which is making me think that he probably dies, sadly.

probably takes care of an older family member

has some demon problems

that’s all

post-apocalyptic show character where theyre trying to have something else than 40yo white hilbilly men bc thats not media sexy

i hope that she doesnt die but probably does bc shes not a major character

me: can i reveal something i know

yes please

me: her and the blonde that you called demon had a thing canonically

cool!!!!

probably lives in a ranch that has no electricity due to demon problems

me: :D

and still does her hair somehow

uuummmm this looks like someone’s weird flashback version that is supposed to look like a teenager but actually looks older

me: uhh this is a bad picture let me find a bettter one

me: there we go

looks like this character needs a cowboy hat

probably writes dean’s name in her diary??

COMPHET

thats all

[critical-derolo]

won't let you go

It's going horribly, just horribly. She reasons that it could be worse - maybe, and that they're all still alive - barely, and that technically they're winning - kinda. Trapping the beast in here with them... it was clever and badass and felt so, so good when she was doing it, but upon further reflection (as she skids around the rocky corner, dodging arcs of lightning) it was maybe too rash of a decision.

Oh, plus those sexy assholes keep stealing her friends.

She watches Fjord's face lose its tension, smoothing out into a blank mask. (so many masks, he has. this is her least favourite.) Void of the compassion she oh so adores from him. His eyes sweep across the room and meet hers, empty and chilling, and she watches him lift his hands. Dark energy crackles between his fingers, eldritch magic pooling in his palms - scary magic, she's never realized how objectively scary Fjord's magic is compared to theirs. He steps through the water he's just used to try and sweep Possessed Caleb off his feet with, towards Jester who's still desperately trying to catch her breath and look around the cavern for help. She's pretty sure she can hear Yasha and Beau battling something on the other side of this massive fucking rock pillar and wishes she'd ran the other way.

But then Fjord's eyes roll back and he collapses to the rocky floor again (what a brave tissue paper man). She knows that when he gets up he'll be himself, and decides the best place for him currently is right there. Hopefully not drowning in the puddle.

What a shitty day. A really, truly shitty day.

"Hey, Be-au..." she breathlessly trails off after the blue blur zips by her and- "Shit!"

The cavern wall behind her rumbles and trembles as the beast chases Beau. Jester's jaw drops open when Yasha follows them both, and she leans as far as she can to try and get a better look at the barbarian's grim face. She sends a sacred flame towards that end of the cavern for good measure, trailing behind as she holds her aching ribs.

Why did they come down this well? Wells suck hardcore ass. Nothing good ever happens in a well.

"Fjord!" Jester cries as he twists behind a gathering of rocks, blocking the lashings of electricity sent his way. At least he's up again.

Caleb grunts and flops back against the ground, unconscious. He's having maybe the worst day and considering he threw a fireball at them, that's saying something.

Another flash of blue catches her eye and Jester looks up to see Beau squaring off against Yasha. Her fists do... almost nothing against their Stone Barbarian but thankfully as strong as Yasha is, Beau is just as hard to hit. Still... Jester worries her bottom lip between her teeth, lifting a hand and gathering her spell. She doesn't want to hurt Yasha, but - she can't let Yasha hurt Beau.

A pale hand catches a brown fist and Jester sucks in a sharp breath. She squints her eyes to see Yasha's lips moving and Beau's shoulders sagging, and let's her spell fizzle out. Things are looking up if Yasha, Caleb, and Fjord are back.

Jester flashes a bright smile at Yasha as they pass each other, the angel digging her blade into the beast's side while Jester goes to check on Beau. She hasn't seen her maybe this whole fight and - where's Caduceus?

"Beau, have you seen-..."

The winged woman laughs, a deep and throaty chuckle that's smooth like velvet and makes Jester shiver. Before Jester can lift her hand, the woman is gone - off around the ceiling of the cavern again. Jester looks back to Beau, watches the tension enter her shoulders. Watches the grip on her bo tighten and the sharp muscle of her arms tense.

Jester swallows and reaches for the back of that blue vest. "Beau, do you feel okay?"

"No."

"Oh." Well that's... that might be normal. "Do you maybe want-"

"How long have you been sending to him?" she asks quietly. Firmly.

Again, Jester shivers. She's seen Beau pissed before - they all have, but Beau's anger is always there. Bright embers ready to explode into flame, loud and passionate.

This is... controlled fury. Not a reaction, not a fleeting emotion of the moment, this is a seed someone has pulled up from the earth.

Jester doesn't like it. "To who? What do you mean?"

"My father," Beau accuses and turns to face her. She expects the snarl, a flash of teeth bared in a scowl so impressive that maybe, maybe Jester practices it herself sometimes. She expects shouting and curses, a Beau Trademark. But only blue fire stares back at her, with a tone sharper than Fjord's blade. "You expect me to believe it was a coincidence you and Fjord found me so soon after leaving the Cobalt Soul. Or that he would so easily give up and just leave me alone?"

"Beau, this isn't you. She's in your head, these thoughts aren't yours!"

The monk tilts her head to the side, cracking her neck and - all the tension is released, her limbs loose and stance more fluid. Jester's seen her spar, seen her fight often enough to know that she isn't backing down. This is her gearing up for an attack. "Yes," she says simply and takes a breath. "They are."

- - -

Jester cradles the back of her head the moment it bounces off the rocky wall. Her blue hands are slick with red blood and she blinks against the stars in her eyes, focuses enough to watch Beau twirl and catch both of Nott's bolts. The goblin shrieks as one is thrown back at her with the same velocity, slicing across her shoulder. "Beau!" Jester shouts with tears in her eyes. "Stop this!"

"I won't go back to them!" Beau declares and - and her bo cuts down through the air and into Jester's side, stealing away her breath. In the same motion, she ducks under Fjord's eldritch blast he manages to get off before the beast gets in his way.

Jester grabs the staff just as Beau yanks it back and finally, finally the monk stumbles. Pulls harder but Jester is strong, she's not fast or flashy or so fucking wiggly like smoke, but she has a grip and she's not letting go. Her frantic purple eyes flick between Beau's, searching for any hint of her friend still in there, fighting against this hold on her. "Beau, please. We're not trying to send you back to him. I would never do that!"

"I won't go back in their box!" she finally snarls and that fury blossoms into something bigger, something hotter. The control slips, Beau's eyes widen and she takes a ragged breath.

Hit them hard enough and they come back.

Is emotional pain the same as physical?

Gritting her teeth, Jester yanks harder on the staff until Beau is stumbling against her. She hooks the bo around Beau's back, clamping her hand down on the other end, and can't tell if she's pinning the monk or if she's not pinned between Beau and the wall. "Then don't, Beau. Don't ever go back in the box, be you! Be angry and happy and loud and brash and kind and generous! Be all of the things that you are!"

"Let me go!" she growls and wriggles against Jester's front, fingers digging into the stone of the wall as the staff refuses to budge. She brings her elbow down on Jester's shoulder, where it connects to her neck, and they almost topple to the ground.

Instead, shards of ice creep up her blue neck, and dig into Beau's ribs from her own - just slightly. "Shit, Beau!" Jester snaps with a frown. "That hurt!"

Beau braces her hands against the wall, ignores the blood slowly beginning to drip from her palms, and grunts as she tries to break free from the hold. "Let go," she grinds out between her clenched teeth. Glares into the brightest, sparkliest amethysts she's ever seen.

Jester's grip tightens and she sucks in a breath, her nose bumping against Beau's. They're... they're actually pretty close, now that she thinks about it. She can see the sweat gathering across Beau's brow, notices the way her dark hair is beginning to curl because of it. A purple circle is beginning to form around Beau's left eye from her tussle with Yasha, and her lip is split enough to make her snarl bloody. Jester can't stop the way her face softens, how her gaze lingers, and smiles when Beau's brows slowly furrow in furious confusion. "Have I ever mentioned that you're really, really pretty?"

Beau's elbows slam against the wall on either side of Jester's head, her fumble costing her... ground, so to speak. "What?!"

"Do you think I'm pretty?" Jester wonders or teases or maybe both. She has an idea but she also can't deny the opportunity that's presented itself. Fate is kinda funny, she supposes.

More of the tightness in Beau's jaw loosens. "You..." she lightly shakes her head and Jester hides her sigh of relief when the resistance against the bo lessens. "Yes?"

"Beau-"

The monk winces, rearing her head back and tilting it towards the winged bitch up in the corner. Beau's eyelashes flutter and she shudders, victim to a siren's call that Jester can't hear. "You... have been watching me for him..." she gasps and blinks, glaring back at Jester.

Fucking cheater.

Jester let's the bo go with one hand to flip off the succubus before cupping Beau's cheek. It's cold and clammy and Beau grimaces but doesn't pull away. "Not for him. Just for me. Just because, Beau. Please don't listen to her, please break her hold. I don't want to hurt you... I can't hurt you."

Blood smears the back of Jester's hand, Beau snapping her grip like a coil around the blue wrist. "But I can hurt you," she warns in a voice too calm, too eerie. Her eyes are hard with edges sharp enough to cut and the hope in Jester's chest cracks like glass. "Jester."

Tears well up in her eyes, Jester sucks in a sharp breath. The ache that shoots up and down her arm immediately drops out to the point of numbness. The only thing she can feel is her pulse where Beau digs her fingers in, and tries to make a fist, do anything with the arm she can't move anymore. "Gods, Beau! This wasn't how it was supposed to go, it's not like my books at all. I'm not spying on you and if I was, I'd be so much better at it. I don't give a shit about your dad, he's a big dick, I would never send you back to him. I just. The only secret I have is." She shakes her head with aggravated frustration. "Damn it, Beau, I want you to admit that you're secretly in love with me because I'm secretly in love with you, but you trying to kill me is super getting in my way!"

Those blues remain colder than the ice that creeps up Jester's spine, ready to be released in another Hellish Rebuke. Her fingertips begin to tingle again but she watches Beau's face, looks for a sign, a flutter, something to tell her what to do.

"You are a really good liar," Beau tells her flatly. Jester's heart falls. "You've been watching me since the Gentleman's bar. I won't let you hurt me again."

"Beau," Jester whines sadly and feels her shoulders droop. "I haven't, I promise."

"You will."

"I won't."

"Jester."

The way Beau says her name, a sharp intake of breath around a wince. A grimace. The glare on her face is fierce but something doesn't click into place, enough that Jester notices, at least. Her head tilts to the side. She waits and watches, Beau is perfectly still and ready to strike like a cobra - something Jester has always admired up until now.

...but her hand around Jester's wrist trembles, very slightly. It isn't until Jester holds her breath that she even feels it. The muscles are too taut, there's... restraint there? Enough that Jester can feel her fingers again, even if her arm is numb enough to be on another plane.

"Oh. Oh!" she gasps again and perks up. "You want me to hurt you! Right? I think so. Oh, Beau, you're still in there!"

"Don't fucking-"

A couple of things happen simultaneously and Jester wonders if maybe Caleb managed to get off a haste spell on her to keep up with it all.

The first is that Jester forces her tingling fingers around the back of Beau's neck to dig them in there, while Beau tangles her own bloody hand in Jester's hair to hold her back. The succubus let's out an ungodly shriek, her eyes ablaze on Beau's back - until Nott's bolt catches her between the ribs. With a grunt, Beau stumbles against Jester's front, dragged down and in towards her lips where necrautic magic pools to the surface.

Beau's lips are chapped but oh so gentle against Jester's own. Maybe it isn't fireworks and passionate declarations of love. Maybe it's black veins spreading from the monk's lips, down her neck as her entire body seizes in a lurch. Maybe it's possession and big bull demons and the taste of blood against Jester's tongue, and maybe everybody almost died or is going to die.

But it's kind of perfect. Not at all like the porno books, not what she thought it's supposed to be, but...

When the hand trying to yank her back by her hair instead cradles the back of her head, when Beau's painful grunt turns into a delighted hum, when Jester can feel her blush melting the ice in her veins... by the Traveller, it's everything she's ever wanted.

"I'm gonna, mmmf- Jessie, I gotta... there's still a bad guy," Beau mumbles against her lips even as she leans into the tiefling. A calloused thumb traces Jester's jaw and she let's Beau go just enough to look into those shiny blue eyes. "I'm gonna rip that cow's heart out."

And damn, if she doesn't just swoon. "Be careful, Beau!" Jester calls after her fondly, her hands clasped beneath her chin. She watches the monk flip over Fjord's shoulder, blocking a hit that would have clocked him in the side of the head, and spins in place. "Oh my Gods, Traveller, did you see that?"

"Jester!" Nott screeches as she fires off another bolt. "We're dying, pay attention."

"Did you see that, Nott?"

"It was lovely, please kill something!"

"Okay, okay, okay," Jester grumbles and searches the ceiling for the dickhole who almost ruined everything tonight.

[arysafics]

Dirty Laundry

Summary: Bellamy develops a thing for wearing his roommates underwear.

for @the100whatthefluff

Fluff trope: roommates Badwrong: uhh... panty stealing/wearing?

Rated E, ~5.2k words

Bellamy tips the laundry basket full of clean clothes onto his bed. It’s not a surprise to find that half of them are Clarke’s. He rolls his eyes, wondering when the last time she did her own laundry was. She’s always throwing her things in with his. Usually just a few t-shirts and some socks, but still. She could at least ask.

He starts sorting through it, folding his own clothes, but just piling Clarke’s in a heap. Yes, he’s petty. She can fold her own clothes. He’s absently folding and sorting, thinking about other things, until he picks up a pair of black cotton panties. Well, those definitely aren’t his.  

He stares at it for a moment, then flushes when he realises he’s picturing Clarke wearing them. He swallows. Just another inappropriate thought about his roommate. They’re becoming more and more frequent these days.

The stupid thing is, they’re not even a particularly sexy pair of panties. Just black cotton, a regular old bikini cut. Yet his cock has jumped to attention at just the knowledge that they’re Clarke’s. He strokes the cotton with his thumb, heart pounding. He chews his lip, still staring at the panties, thinking about Clarke wearing them and nothing else.

He should just throw them onto her pile and forget about it probably. But then, she’s not home, and he’s half hard already. Seems like the perfect opportunity to jerk off without having to worry about how loud he’s being.

Before he can change his mind, he shucks his pants and boxers and falls onto the bed, panties in hand.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he’s aware that jerking off over his roommate’s panties is kind of creepy and fucked up. But he’s too horny to feel gross about it yet.

He squirts some lotion from beside his bed into his hand and wraps his hand around his cock, gently stroking himself, letting his erection grow to its full size.  

He closes his eyes, toying with his cock with one hand, Clarke’s panties bunched in the other. Except they could be any random piece of clothing, clenched in his fist like that. He needs to be able to see them, or feel them properly. He briefly considers rubbing the panties against his cock, but then he’s not entirely convinced that wouldn’t give him some kind of dick burn, even though the cotton is pretty soft.

He has a sudden flash of a vision of himself in the panties, and his cock throbs. Fuck, what’s that about? And yet, now that he’s thought of it, he can’t get it out of his head. Him, wearing a pair of Clarke’s panties.

“Fuck,” he groans. He opens his fist and lets cock go so he can grab the panties in both hands. He’s shaking as he slips his feet into the panties and tugs them up his legs. It’s s struggle to get them past his thick thighs, but they’re kind of stretchy so he manages to get them up and over his ass.

They’re tight. Evidently, Clarke has a smaller ass than he does, plus she doesn’t have a cock and balls to deal with. He bulges out of them everywhere, and he barely gets them over his cock. They’re going to be so stretched out after this, there is no way he can give them back to her. But he’s wearing them, and it feels so fucking wrong, and so fucking right.

Something about the thought of his cock rubbing against the same material where Clarke’s cunt has been. The way the soft cotton rides up his ass, smothers his cock and balls. Knowing he’s not supposed to be doing this, not just because they’re Clarke’s panties, but because he’s got panties on at all. The thought of someone, anyone, but especially Clarke, walking in and seeing him wearing a pair of women’s panties. How humiliating that would be.

He shoves his hand into the panties, curling his fist around his cock again. He tugs at himself, his hand moving quickly, up and down, his eyes fluttering shut, his head rolling back. His mind is full of Clarke, sucking him off while he wears her panties. He moans, low and long, picking up the pace as he draws closer to orgasm.

“Fuck. Fuck,” he swears, as he feels his balls tighten. He comes hard, groaning, thick spurts of it filling Clarke’s panties. It trickles down his balls and thighs as he lies there in the aftermath, breathing hard, face burning.

It’s only a few moments before he starts to feel disgusted and ashamed of himself. God, if Clarke ever found out, she’d think he was a complete pervert, taking her panties, wearing them, and then coming in them.

He knows he has to take them off, clean himself up, hide the evidence. But he lies there for a few more minutes, unwilling to remove the panties just yet. It’s embarrassing, but he likes wearing them too much. He’s surprised at himself. He never thought he’d be into the emasculating feeling of wearing panties.

He swallows. This is just for him. He’s never going to let anyone know about his new found kink. Not a one night stand, not a girlfriend, and definitely not any of his friends. They’d never look at him the same again.

 -

 He ends up tossing the used panties in the trash. If Clarke misses them, she’ll probably put it down to the dryer eating them or something. She need not ever find out.  

He manages to act normal around her, even though all he can think about every time he sees her over the next few days is what he did. He burns with shame and desire at the memory. Part of him wants her to figure it out, accuse him of it so he can admit to being a dirty pervert. But she doesn’t, because why would she? It’s just one dumb pair of panties she probably has no idea she even put in with his laundry.

The thing is, once he’s done it, he can’t stop thinking about it. About sliding Clarke’s panties up his thighs and over his cock. He kind of wants to try wearing them for longer. Under his clothes while he’s at work, or while he’s sitting on the couch with Clarke, with her none the wiser that he’s wearing her underwear. And then locking himself in his room and rubbing his cock until he comes all over himself.

He considers going out and buying some ladies’ panties of his own, but the thought does nothing for him. It seems it’s not purely about the taboo of wearing women’s underwear. It’s about the taboo of wearing her underwear, specifically, knowing she doesn’t have a clue about it. Knowing she’d be horrified if she found out.

He wonders what other kinds of panties she has tucked away in her drawer. Something lacy, maybe? A thong? He’s definitely seen her with a Victoria’s Secret bag more than once. And while the thought of her wearing sexy lingerie is hot, his mind keeps straying, and he always ends up with the image of himself in a lacy black thong burning vividly in his mind. It becomes a daily distraction, a growing urge, and he gets himself off to the thought of it more than once.

It’s two weeks after the first time that he finally gets up the courage to do something about it. She’s out on a date, much to his chagrin. Not that she doesn’t have every right to be on a date, especially when he’s never given her the slightest hint that he might want something more than friendship from her. Anyway, it gives him the opportunity he’s been waiting for.

The plan is to sneak into her room and go through her underwear drawer, and find a pair that he thinks she won’t miss, at least for a while. He’s not sure how he’s going to tell, but hopefully he’ll know in the moment.

He waits half an hour after she leaves for her date, just in case she forgets something and has to come back. When he’s sure she’s really gone, he heads for her bedroom, adrenalin rushing through his veins. He opens the door and switches on the light. Her room is actually tidy for once, and Bellamy wonders if she’s planning on bringing her date back here later. The thought makes his chest tighten with jealousy, but he ignores it, instead heading for the chest of drawers beside her bed, where it seems likely she keeps her underwear.

Before he reaches it, however, the laundry basket in the corner of the room catches his eye. It’s full of dirty clothes, and on top, a pair of pink and white panties with a lace trim. His cock throbs. He heads for the basket. She’s much less likely to miss a pair that she’s just worn and thrown in the laundry basket to be washed.

His pulls the panties out of the basket. Not exactly what he was imagining, but he can’t deny the femininity of the colours and the lace does something to him. And the fact that she’s worn them recently. Today, even, maybe. There’s a slight stain on pink material on the inside of the crotch. He’s sure it’s from her arousal. Maybe she even came in these panties.

His heart thuds dramatically as he brings the panties to his face and presses them against his nose. He breathes in deeply, whimpering as he relishes the heady scent of her cunt for the first time. He knows what he’s doing is sick, but he can’t bring himself to care that he’s turned into some panty-sniffing creep. God, he wishes he could taste her cunt. He salivates, but he stops short of actually licking the stain on her panties. That would be fucked up.

He takes the panties back to his room and makes sure the door is shut tightly before he strips off his sweatpants and boxers and replaces them with the panties. He pads over to the full-length mirror, pulling his shirt up so he can admire himself.

He looks ridiculous. They ride up his ass badly, his balls and pubic hair hang out the sides, and his erection makes the material bulge obscenely. They’re completely impractical and uncomfortable. It’s so fucking hot. He strokes himself over the panties, feeling his cock twitch. He wants to come. He wants to jerk off right now and come in his panties again. But he also wants to tease and torture himself. Walk around the house all night with Clarke’s panties on.

He grabs his sweatpants from off the floor and pulls them on over the panties, letting out a shaky breath. He looks in the mirror again. The pants don’t hide his erection well, but there’s no way to tell what he’s wearing underneath. Only he knows.

He spends the rest of the evening wearing them. He makes dinner wearing Clarke’s panties. He washes up wearing Clarke’s panties. He sits on the couch with his book, wearing Clarke’s panties. He’s aware of them the whole time. The tickle of the lace trim. The rub of the cotton between his ass cheeks.

He’s about to put the book down and shove his hand down his pants, when he hears the apartment door open. He checks the time on his phone. Just after ten. He listens for voices, but he hears none, and he can only make out one pair of footsteps. Clarke rounds the corner and walks into the living room alone.

“Hey,” Bellamy says, putting down the book as Clarke comes towards him. I’m wearing your panties, I’m wearing your panties, his brain screams. “How was your date?”

Clarke shrugs, falling onto the couch beside him. “Average. She was nice but there wasn’t really a spark. What did you get up to?”

Well, I snuck into your room and stole a pair of your panties. I’m wearing them right now.

He swallows. “Not much.”

“Sounds amazing,” Clarke smiles.

Bellamy’s cock is truly throbbing now. All he can think about is that he’s wearing Clarke’s panties, and she’s right there, wearing a sexy little black dress with an enormous expanse of cleavage on display. He wants to pull his pants down and show her. Wants her to tell him what a naughty boy he is for taking her panties and wearing them. Wants her to tease him about it, make fun of him, rub his cock until he’s about to come and then leave him hanging as punishment.

He squeezes his eyes shut. He’s learning way too much about himself lately.

“You okay?” Clarke asks.

“Yeah,” Bellamy says weakly. “Just tired.”

“Me too,” Clarke agrees. “Time for bed, I think. Night, Bell.”

“Night,” Bellamy returns. He watches her ass as she heads for her room, and as soon as she’s gone, he races to his own room, pants hitting the floor before his door is even closed. He comes in under a minute, silently as possible, knowing Clarke is just down the hall.

He lies there in his own come, feeling guilty and ashamed. Already he’s thinking up ways to get another pair of her panties. He groans, hating himself. How did he get here? Obsessing over his roommate’s panties like some slimy teenager who can’t get laid? It’s humiliating. And yet, he knows the fact that it’s humiliating is part of the appeal.

But he can’t do it again. He’s resolved. He can’t keep taking her panties without her noticing. One pair she might not notice. Two pairs she probably will, but probably won’t realise what’s happening to them. Any more than that, Bellamy knows she’ll stop at nothing until she figures it out.

 -

 Bellamy ends up secretly washing the pair of pink and white panties in the bathroom sink while Clarke isn’t home. He tries not to think about wearing them again, but it’s impossible. So he wears them. He wears them to work, and he wears them out with friends, and he wears them at home, and in between wears he washes them, and keeps them in the back of his own underwear drawer.

It only lasts two weeks before they stop satisfying his needs. They don’t really feel like hers anymore, now that he’s the only one wearing them. They don’t smell like her, and she hasn’t worn them in two weeks. They may as well be any pair of women’s panties by now.

He still keeps them in the back of his underwear drawer, but he stops wearing them. He’s desperate to get his hands on a new pair. He’s pretty sure he can get away with it. All he has to do is take a pair of Clarke’s dirty panties, wear them, wash them, and then claim they got in with his laundry somehow. It’s a trick he can probably only use once, but hopefully he can come up with something else next time. He’s not even pretending there isn’t going to be a next time.

He decides he’s going to do it under the guise of being a nice roommate. She’s in her room on a Saturday evening, blasting Carly Rae Jepsen. He knocks on the door, and opens it a second later, knowing she won’t be able to hear over the music.

She grins when she spots him in the doorway, and turns down the volume. She’s in her sweatpants and a t-shirt, though her make-up and hair are done. Half her closet appears to be laid out on her bed.

“Spring cleaning?” he asks, amused.

“I’m going out with Harper and Maya tonight. I can’t decide what to wear.”

“You want me to help?”

“No offence, but I don’t really trust your fashion sense.”

Bellamy scowls. “Gee, thanks.”

“Don’t take it personally.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes. “I came in here to see if you had any laundry you want me to do while I’m doing mine, but maybe now I won’t bother.” He glances at her full laundry basket.

“I can do my own laundry, Bellamy.”

“Then why am I always finding your things in with mine?”

“I just like to make you feel needed.”

Bellamy gives her a dry look. “Just give me your laundry and be grateful.”

“I’ll do something nice for you later,” Clarke promises, grabbing her laundry basket by the handles and hoisting it up. She carries it over to him and drops it into his waiting arms.

“Yeah, yeah,” Bellamy says, trying to hold back a smirk.

He carries the basket of laundry to his room, pretending to be nonchalant, in case Clarke is watching him, though he knows she’s still in her room, preoccupied by her wardrobe dilemma. He keeps his eyes straight ahead, though he’s dying to look in the basket to see what’s waiting for him. He manages to keep his composure until his bedroom door is shut behind him.

He drops the basket onto his bed, and starts rifling through it like a dog digging for a bone. There are a few pairs of panties in there, but none catch his fancy, until his eyes land on a scrap of red lace. His heart stops and his cock jumps. He pulls it from the hamper, holding up the flimsy thong, heart lodged in his throat. Fuck. He doesn’t know what’s hotter, the thought of Clarke wearing it, or the thought of him wearing it.

He bunches it in his hand and brings it to his nose, taking a long sniff. They smell so fucking good. So Clarke. Once he’s let her aroma settle into his nostrils, he pulls his pants and boxers off and slips into the thong. He’s trembling with excitement as he pulls it up, the string of lace resting between his ass cheeks. The front of it does an even worse job of covering his junk than the previous pairs, partly because it’s so tiny, but it’s also totally see-through.

He gulps as he looks down at his swollen cock, jutting out of the thong. He walks over to the mirror, loving the way the lace feels against his skin. It’s soft, but also a little itchy. He pulls his shirt off and stares at his reflection. He repositions the thong so it’s over his cock more, though it’s never going to contain the whole thing.

He turns around and looks over his shoulder, admiring the thin strip of lace nestled between his ass cheeks. It looks so good against his brown skin.

He hears the sound of his door opening, and he whips his head towards it, just as Clarke walks into his room, holding the sweatpants she was wearing earlier. Bellamy’s stomach drops.

“Shit, Clarke, wait—” Bellamy chokes out, but it’s too late.

“Can you wash these too— oh my god.” she stops, her eyes alighting on him where he stands frozen by the mirror, dressed in nothing but her little red thong. There’s nowhere to hide, and anyway, his feet are glued in place.

Clarke stares at him, and doesn’t look away. His eyes find the floor, and he wishes it would open up and swallows him whole. His whole body burns with shame at being caught out. He doesn’t know what’s more humiliating, being discovered as a pervert who steals women’s underwear, or a weirdo who likes to wear it.

Plus, his cock and balls are totally on display too, and while he has nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to his size, these are so not the circumstances he wanted her to see them under. He doesn’t try to cover himself. His fists are clenched by his sides.

God, it’s so fucking humiliating. He feels small, weak, unmanly. As much as he fantasised about Clarke catching him, he never actually wanted it to happen. She’ll think he’s disgusting, sick in the head. She’ll never be attracted to him after seeing him like this. She’ll tell all her friends, and they’ll laugh at him. She’ll make sure he never gets a date again.

And despite all of this, or maybe because of it, he’s more turned on than ever. His engorged cock makes it painfully obvious, both to him and to her.

“Is that mine?” Clarke finally asks.

“Yes,” Bellamy whispers pitifully.

Clarke throws her sweatpants into the laundry basket on his bed. Bellamy lifts his eyes, but not his head. She obviously found something to wear. A sexy little red number. It matches the thong he’s wearing.

“It looks good on you,” she says. Bellamy swallows. Does he imagine the slight waver of her voice? He doesn’t answer. Doesn’t know how to. “Have you been taking my panties so you can wear them?”

Bellamy nods sharply. “Yes.”

Clarke bites her lip. “You like wearing women’s underwear, huh?”

Bellamy shakes his head. “No.”

“Bellamy,” Clarke says, coaxing. “It’s okay. I’m not judging.”

“It’s not—” Bellamy starts. He squeezes his eyes shut. Her reaction is not at all what he expected. She’s not laughing, or yelling, or calling him disgusting. It makes him feel like maybe he can tell her the truth. That he can really trust her. And it’s not like he didn’t trust her before, with normal things. But he didn’t think he’d be able to trust her with this. “It’s not just any women’s panties,” he admits, growing braver. “Just yours.”

Bellamy swears he hears her breath hitch from across the room. She pushes the door shut behind her and leans against it for a moment, before standing up straight and walking towards him. Bellamy feels something shift between them, and he swallows thickly. She stops a couple of feet away from him.

“What is it about my panties specifically that you like?” she asks, voice low, curious.

“Um,” Bellamy flushes. “I like knowing you wore them. They smell like you.”

Clarke raises an eyebrow. Fuck. Now she knows he fucking sniffed them too. “So you wear them and smell them. Anything else? Get yourself off? Have you ever come in my panties?”

Bellamy nods, ashamed. “Yes.”

“Can I take a picture?” Clarke asks.

Bellamy stiffens. “I don’t want anyone to see me like this.”

“I won’t show anyone. It’s just for me.”

“Why?”

“I think you look sexy.”

Bellamy flushes. “No I don’t,” he whispers. “I look like an idiot. It’s humiliating.”

“No,” Clarke shakes her head. “You look so pretty.” Pretty. Bellamy blushes again. If the thought of her punishing him wasn’t arousing enough, this is so much worse.

“You don’t think it makes me—less of a man?”

“Of course not.”

“You don’t think I’m disgusting? A creep? A weirdo?”

“I don’t think you’re a Radiohead song, no.”

“Clarke,” Bellamy begs, a little desperately. He’s on display here, at his most vulnerable, and she’s making jokes.

“Sorry,” Clarke whispers, stepping closer. “I don’t think you’re a creep. Although it was very wicked of you to steal my panties. You could have just asked me.”

“I’m sorry,” Bellamy says softly. “I didn’t want you to know.”

“I think you did want me to know,” Clarke says. She’s so close to him now, looking up at him. She’s so tiny, yet he knows she holds all the power. He wants her to hold the power. Wants her to use it. “Down inside, you wanted me to find out, didn’t you? You can tell me.”

“Yes,” Bellamy admits.

“And what did you want to happen when I found out?”

Bellamy closes his eyes so he doesn’t have to look at her. “I wanted you to punish me,” he croaks out. “For being a bad boy.”

“Do you think you’ve been a bad boy?” Clarke asks him. “Do you think you deserve to be punished?”

Bellamy opens his eyes again, nodding. His whole body is trembling. He wants her to touch him so badly, he doesn’t care how. Spank him or suck him, he just needs her to do something to release the tension.

“Go and sit on the bed,” Clarke commands. Bellamy feels a thrill go through him. He tries to tone down his excitement as he obeys her.

Clarke watches him take his position on the end of the bed. He sits there, forcing himself to be still, patiently waiting for her to tell him what to do next. She follows him over and stands between his legs, spread wide out of habit.

“I’m not going to punish you,” Clarke tells him. He feels a swell of disappointment. “Because I don’t think you’ve been naughty.”

“You don’t?”

Clarke shakes her head. “I think you’ve been a very good boy, Bellamy.” Bellamy can’t control the whimper that escapes his lips.

“But I stole your panties,” he says.

“Hm, true,” Clarke says, tilting her head, considering. “Perhaps I can punish you for that another time. But for now, I want to reward you for being so brave and honest with me.”

“Okay.”

“Would you like that?”

“Uh huh.”

Clarke smiles. “Thought so.” She reaches out and brushes a curl from his forehead, the traces her thumb along his cheek. She leans down, and presses her lips gently against his. They’re so soft, and she’s so tender with him. He feels weak.

She kisses him harder, and he responds in turn, his head spinning. Clarke pulls back, leaving Bellamy wanting. She reaches behind her and unzips her dress, before slipping it off her shoulders and letting it fall to the floor. She’s naked underneath. Bellamy’s eyes rake over her body, her glorious tits, her dark pink nipples, her shaven cunt. She’s so gorgeous. He half believes that none of this is real.

“I want you to keep my panties on,” Clarke tells him. Bellamy nods. He wants that too. Clarke kisses him again, climbing onto his lap as she does, running her fingers through his hair. Her pussy presses against his hard cock, and he can feel how wet she is through the material of the panties he’s wearing.

Bellamy wants to wrap his arms around her, touch her all over, but he keeps his hands by his sides, waiting for her instruction.

“You’re such a good boy, Bell,” Clarke says. “So patient.” She runs her fingers down his arm and takes his hand, guiding it towards her cunt. He slips his fingers inside her. “Feel how wet I am for you,” Clarke gasps.

Bellamy wants to finger her. He’s desperate to make her come, to make her feel good. But she grabs his wrist and removes his hand from between her legs, and lifts up to his lips. He sucks his fingers into his mouth, tasting her, finally. Clarke watches him, her pupils wide, her gaze steady.

She takes his fingers from his mouth and places it on her waist. His other hand follows. Clarke’s arms lock around his neck, and she grinds herself against his erection. It takes all his self-control not to thrust against her. Her wet cunt, the panties between it and his cock, her tits bouncing just slightly as she rolls her hips towards him. It’s a lot to handle. He feels like he’s barely breathing.

She reaches a hand between them, fondling his balls while she continues to hump his bulging cock. He whimpers.

“That feel good?” she asks.

“Yes.” His voice comes out weak and strangled. Clarke drops her lips to his neck, then trails them up until he can feel her hot breath against his ear.

“I want you inside me,” she says. Bellamy’s breath hitches.

“Please,” he says.

Clarke stops her motions, shuffling back on his lap a little so she can use her hand properly. She runs her finger along the outside of the panties. They’re soaking from her arousal and his precum. She peels the red lace away, letting his cock free. She wraps her hand around him, stroking him gently.

“Look at how big you are,” Clarke says. “Don’t know how you got this big boy in these tiny little panties. Must have been desperate for it.”

Bellamy nods. Tears form in his eyes. Clarke notices, and gives him a sweet little kiss.

“It’s okay,” she says. “You’ve been so good.” She strokes his hair some more. He likes that. He closes his eyes and leans into her hand. He opens his eyes again when he feels her weight shift, looking down so he can watch her sink onto his cock.

He grips her hips tightly, his breath coming out shaky as she lowers herself onto him. She lets out a small whine as she takes the whole thing inside her, her mouth hanging open. Bellamy groans, then kisses her, frantic and messy. Clarke’s arms wrap around him tightly, kissing him back hungrily.

She rocks against him, slowly at first, teasing herself and him. Her warm, tight cunt grips his cock, and it feels so good he thinks he might pass out. He groans as she picks up the pace, his head dropping to her shoulder. He doesn’t know how long he can last with her riding him like this.

“Fuck,” he swears. “Fuck, Clarke. You feel so good. I need to come so bad.”

“You can hold on a little longer,” Clarke tells him, sounding breathless. “I know you can, baby. I’m almost there, and then you can fill me up with your come, okay?”

Bellamy nods. Clarke bounces on his cock, her moans getting higher and more frequent, and then she grinds down, hard, titling her head back as she comes.

“Yes,” she cries. “Good boy, Bellamy, you can come now. Come in me.” Bellamy couldn’t hold back any longer even if he wanted to. Her orgasm, calling him a good boy, grinding on his cock, her come squirting all over his crotch, all of it is too much to handle, and it sends him over the edge.

He moans her name as he comes, dropping his lips to her shoulder, shuddering through his orgasm as he empties himself into her cunt.

They stay like that for what feels like an eternity, holding each other, breathing heavy, Bellamy’s soft cock still inside Clarke’s pussy. Eventually, Bellamy can’t hold himself up anymore, and he lies back on his bed, taking her with him. Clarke shifts off him, his cock slipping out of her, along with a trickle of his come. Her red thong is totally ruined.

Bellamy watches her as she settles herself beside him. She grins. “That was good, right?”

“Yeah,” Bellamy agrees. Clarke strokes his chest.

“I never thought you’d be into something like that,” Clarke admits. “It’s so hot. You wearing my panties.”

“You still need to punish me for stealing them,” Bellamy reminds her.

“I will,” Clarke promises. “But I didn’t want that to be our first time. And we should—talk about what this is.”

“Later,” Bellamy says. “I need to rest.”

Clarke giggles. “Okay. We can share my panties from now on, if you like. You don’t have to keep it a secret anymore.”

“That was half the fun,” Bellamy admits.

“Don’t worry,” Clarke tells him. “There are plenty more ways we can have fun.”

[destiel-love-forever]

Room for One

@twoodze asked for “2 smut for destiel <3 It’s so cliche and I love it.”      #2. “Sorry. We only have one room available. Does a king work?”

Read Below or on AO3: Room for One

By the time Dean’s parking baby in front of the motel, he’s exhausted, frustrated, and seriously regretful. This seemed like an easy case. Two dead bodies, witness accounts of temperature drops, and a recent violent murder that connected to both victims. That was the only reason he let Castiel come along when he asked. Sam was sick with a vicious flu and Castiel had that cute little concerned face he gets when Dean wants to hunt alone. Really, though, he’d be better off by himself. Castiel as a human is pretty much a walking disaster. He doesn’t have the heart to tell him that, though, so here they are.

Dean glances over at Castiel, releasing his breath in a sigh. The ex-angel is passed out with his head against the impala’s door. He would look peaceful if it weren’t for the bruise blooming on his cheek and the caked blood on his split lip.

Castiel got hurt under his watch. It makes Dean sick.

When Dean opens his door, Castiel jerks awake. He rubs at his eyes and looks over at Dean with a sleepy smile. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

If it was Sam, Dean would make fun of him. He’d say something about it only being a ten minute car ride from the cemetery to this motel. For good measure, he’d probably tease Sam about losing his edge, about becoming an old man.

Not with Castiel, though.

With Castiel, Dean’s heart catches at the base of his throat. There’s not a trace of humor in him. “You’re fine, Cas. Come on. Let’s get some rooms. We’ll deal with the case in the morning.”

Together, they grab the bags from the car and head inside. The little makeshift office with the hotel desk is dimly lit, the girl working it half asleep as she watches a soap opera. Her eyes flick to Dean and she immediately straightens up with a pretty smile and curious eyes. “Well, hello.”

“Hey,” Dean grits back, not in the mood for fake flirting. “We need two rooms, please.”

Her eyes flick from him to Castiel, then to her computer. She clicks a few buttons and makes a noise like she’s confirming something. “Sorry. We only have one room available. Does a king work?”

Dean wants to ask her why the fuck she thinks one room with a king bed would work when he originally asked for two rooms. When Dean specifically asked for a fucking wall to separate him from the gorgeous blue eyed man who he can’t seem to stop thinking about kissing ever since he turned human and moved in with them.

Instead, Dean sighs and shrugs a shoulder. “Sure. Fine.”

He takes the key from her and heads back outside to find their room. Castiel hurries behind him. “Dean, am I misunderstanding or are we sharing a room?”

“We’re sharing.”

“Like you and Sam do?”

“Yes.” Dean pauses. “Well, no.”

They stop outside the door of room 8 and Dean slips the key in. When they get inside, Castiel stands at the end of the bed and stares at it with wide eyes. “You and Sam don’t share a bed.”

“Nope.”

“But we are?”

“It’s all they had available.” Dean locks the door behind them and tosses his bag on the floor, already slipping out of his flannel and kicking off his boots. “It’s a big bed. We’ll be fine.”

Castiel shuffles nervously, looking at Dean out of the corner of his eye. When Dean catches him he blushes and looks back at the bed. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Taking one glance at the stained, hard carpeting, Dean shakes his head. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I understand how you value your personal space, Dean.”

“I-” Dean stops himself before he tells Castiel that he doesn’t mind anymore. That Castiel is welcome in his personal space any damn time he wants. After clearing his throat, Dean mumbles, “Just get in the damn bed. I need to piss.”

Before Castiel can argue further, Dean’s gone. He goes to the bathroom, even though he didn’t have to, then stares at his reflection in the mirror while the water runs. You can do this, Dean. It’s one night. It’s a big bed. Just pretend it’s Sammy.

Feeling better about the situation, Dean actually washes his hands, then takes a deep breath and heads back into the room. The main light is off now, just the small lamp on Dean’s side of the bed left on. Castiel is lying flat on his back, stiff as a board, eyes squeezed shut. It would make Dean laugh if he wasn’t so damn nervous himself.

After stripping down to his boxers, Dean slips under the covers. He intends to roll on his side, face the wall, and hopefully fall straight asleep. Instead, his eyes drift over to the human slightly trembling beside him. He’s still wearing his damn trench coat.

“Cas, you don’t have to sleep in all your clothes.”

“It’s fine, Dean.”

“It’s not. You’re human now and you can’t bullshit me. That’s uncomfortable.” He glances down, seeing two hard bumps at the bottom of the bed. With an eye roll, he grabs the blanket and rips it off Castiel. “And you’re still wearing your shoes?”

Castiel blushes, squeezing his eyes hard enough to make his whole face scrunch. With a sigh, Dean rolls off the bed and walks toward the end. He takes one of Castiel’s shoes off, then the other, before throwing them both in the direction of his own. After only a slight hesitation, he puts his knee between Castiel’s thighs and rests his weight on the bed, hands coming up to undo his belt.

With a jerk of his body, Castiel’s eyes fly wide open and his mouth forms an ‘O’. “Wh - what are you doing, Dean?”

“Helping you get comfortable.” Dean stops just before unbuttoning his pants. “Is this okay?”

“Huh?” Castiel practically squeaks. “Uh - yeah. Yeah, fine. Okay.”

Gulping, Dean pops open Castiel’s pants, then tugs at the zipper. His hands shake as he slowly slides them down Castiel’s long legs. Dean’s thumb accidently brushes the skin of Castiel’s ankle when he pulls them off and he’s not sure who jumps harder, him or Castiel.

Then everything freezes. Dean stares at the place where Castiel’s cock is tenting his boxers in pure hunger. Castiel stares at it in horror.

Castiel acts first. He puts a hand over himself and quickly gets to his feet, turning his back to Dean. He strips out of his trench coat, suit jacket, tie, dress shirt, and over shirt so that he’s in nothing but his boxers like Dean, then practically dives onto the bed so he’s laying on his stomach. He hurries to yank the blanket over himself, then buries his face in the pillow.

“Cas?”

Nothing.

“Cas?”

With a tiny whimper, Castiel turns so his cheek is squished against his pillow, blue eyes carefully looking at Dean. “Yeah?”

“It’s not a big deal. It happens.”

“I know. It - it happens often.” Dean can’t help but start to harden himself at that, wondering how often Castiel has been hard around him. How often he’s walking around the bunker horny. How often he masturbates in his room. He’s so wrapped up in his own mind, he almost misses Castiel’s softly whispered, “Especially around you.”

Castiel’s face turns bright red and he presses it into the pillow again, nearly curling in on himself.

“Cas?”

Nothing.

“Cas, please look at me.”

“I’m tired.”

“Cas.”

Suddenly, Castiel sits up in the bed. “You’re hot, okay? You’re hot. You’re - with the eyes and the arms and the ass. You’re hot. You’ve always been, but it was manageable as an angel. Now? Now… it’s like I’m on fire when you’re around. And this thing,” he hisses, pointing at his crotch, “Doesn’t know how to control itself.”

Speechless from Castiel’s explosion, all Dean can think to do is grab his face and tug him into a searing kiss. Castiel releases the most adorable squeak before he’s wrapping himself around Dean and kissing him back. Dean pushes him onto his back so he can hover above him, never parting their lips. His cock rubs against Castiel’s through the fabric of his boxers and they both moan, the sound vibrating in their mouths as they explore each other.

Within minutes, they’re frantic. Castiel is tugging at Dean’s hair and Dean’s nearly ripping Castiel’s boxers off. He has to pry Castiel’s hands away from his head once his cock is free, giving him a smile sexy enough to steal Castiel’s breath. “Let go.”

“What - what are you gonna do?”

“Let me go and I’ll show you.”

Castiel hesitates, but then does as told. Dean kisses his way down his chest and stomach. When he presses one against the side of his belly button, Castiel wiggles and laughs a little. Dean arches an eyebrow. “Ticklish?”

“Kinda,” Castiel says in a hushed whisper, looking at Dean through heavy-lidded eyes. “Can’t describe it. Just feels good.”

“Good.” Dean grins. “This will feel even better.”

Before Castiel can ask what he means, Dean’s ducking his head and wrapping his lips around his cock. Castiel bucks at the unexpected sensation. It’s wet and hot and.. Holy shit what’s that? Is that Dean’s tongue? Oh… he’s good at that.

After a minute of letting his body relax beneath Dean’s attention, Castiel gets too impatient. He yanks Dean’s hair hard enough for the man to pop up and glare at him. With a quick shuffle, Castiel is grabbing Dean by the biceps and pushing him, rolling them over so he’s on top.

With a few sharp tugs, Castiel has Dean’s boxers off and he’s crawling on top of him. There’s no foreplay like with Dean. No kisses on his chest and stomach. He just immediately wraps his lips around Dean’s cock and swallows him down. Dean throws his head back and clenches his fists to keep himself from grabbing Castiel’s messy curls and fucking into his mouth.

When Castiel surprisingly takes all of him, letting his cockhead slide to the back of his throat, Dean groans and says, “Alright, up.”

Dean rolls them again and Castiel laughs softly.

“What?” Dean asks against his neck, where he’s now trailing open mouthed kisses.

“Just funny that you can’t give up control for long.”

“Hey now.” Dean pops his head up and glares at Castiel, even as a smile tugs at his lips. “I’m perfectly fine giving up control. I just want to fuck you.”

Whatever Castiel planned to say in return is apparently gone, because all he can do is stare at Dean with his mouth wide open. Then he’s nodding as fast as humanly possible. “Yes. Now.”

“Now who’s impatient?”

“Shut up and fuck me Dean Winchester.” Dean makes a tsking sound but smiles as he slips off the bed. “Where are you going?”

Chuckling at the subtle whine in Castiel’s voice, Dean grabs his pants and digs in his pockets. When he returns to the bed, he waves the packet of lube in the air. Castiel’s eyes go round as if he just now realized what this means.

Before he rips it open, Dean asks, “Are you sure? We don’t have to.”

“We definitely have to. I’m sure.”

“Alright. Try to just relax and-”

“I know,” Castiel says quickly, cutting him off.

Dean’s eyes narrow. “You know? As in you’ve done this with some other guy?”

The blushing and nervousness from before comes back and Castiel is looking anywhere but at Dean. “I mean - no. Not - no. Just myself.”

Dean actually has to close his eyes and take a breath - that’s how fast more blood rushes to his cock at the idea of Castiel playing with his own hole. Then he’s ripping the packet apart and squeezing lube all over his two fingers.

He pushes Castiel’s legs up toward his chest and spreads them. Just the simple act alone makes Castiel moan and shiver. When Dean gently rubs a finger around his rim, Castiel closes his eyes and starts to breathe heavy. His hole doesn’t even resist when Dean pushes in, and Castiel helps even more by moving his hips to press down.

“Fucking hell, Cas,” Dean groans. “You’re so needy.”

Castiel bites his bottom lip and peers down at him. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s hot.” As if to prove his point, Dean slides in a second finger beside the first. He can tell he’s not going to have to do much more to get Castiel comfortable enough for his cock, but he’s loving his reactions too much to pull out. He takes his time to build up the pressure on his prostate, smiling each time Castiel whimpers or bucks his hips or moans.

“When you do this, do you have a toy or do you use your fingers?”

“Both,” Castiel pants.

“Do you pretend it’s me?” That adorable blush creeps back across Castiel’s cheeks and down his throat, and Dean knows his answer. “What do you pretend I’m doin’ to you, Cas? Is it this? Or more?”

Castiel blinks at him like he’s in shock. “Both. Usually - usually more.”

“Yeah? You want more?”

“Dean, please. Need you.”

He’s heard those words before from Castiel. They’ve always managed to seize his heart. This is different though. The power behind them is too great.

“Yeah, okay angel,” Dean whispers. He notices how Castiel reacts to the pet name, loving the way he nibbles on the bottom lip of a smile.

Squeezing the rest of the lube packet onto his cock, Dean strokes it a few times and guides it to Castiel’s opening. They lock eyes and take a breath in sync. Then Dean slowly slides into him, taking his time and rolling his hips as he moves.

By the time he’s fully inside him, he’s not sure who is more impatient - him or Castiel. It’s like a switch flips and they’re suddenly all tongue and teeth and nails. Castiel is lifting his legs to let Dean in deeper, and Dean is fucking him like his life depends on it.

Castiel hisses when Dean bites the apex of his shoulder, scratching down his back in return. It drives Dean wild and he pulls away, gripping Castiel’s hips tight enough to bruise and spreading his legs nice and wide. Moving back until his cock is just inside Castiel’s tight rim, Dean locks eyes with him and grins.

“I wonder if I can fuck you hard enough to make you come untouched.”

“I- ooooh-” Whatever Castiel planned to say is lost when Dean ever so slowly enters him, pressing against his prostate in the best possible way.

He pulls back again, grin widening. “Just wanted to check the angle.”

“‘S perfect,” Castiel slurs, moving his hips in an effort to get Dean to fuck him.

Dean just sits back and watches for a while, appreciating the view as Castiel fucks himself the best he can on Dean’s cock. “You know this is it, right?” Dean finds himself saying.

“This is what?”

“I became an expert at resisting you. At keeping my feelings in check. But it’s over now. You’re perfect and I’m not letting you go.”

Castiel’s breath hitches and his hips pause. “Really? You want me? Like really want me?”

“Yeah.” Dean stares down at where his cock is resting just an inch inside Castiel. He’s panting from the effort of staying still, not wanting to ruin the moment. “If you want me,” he adds, suddenly terrified.

“If I want you?” Castiel asks on an incredulous breath. “Dean, all I’ve ever wanted is you.”

When Dean feels tears pricking his eyes, he holds Castiel tight and starts to fuck him. He will not cry. No chick flick moments. Instead, he focuses on what he knows. What he’s good at. Fucking someone out of their mind.

And he does well. By the time Dean’s close to coming, Castiel is a mewling, shivering mess. He stopped forming coherent words long ago. All he does now is make noises and stare up at Dean with wide blue eyes full of amazement.

Dean notices the second those eyes shift into something more. He knows before Castiel even yells a half-panicked, half-relieved, “‘M gonna come.”

“Good.” Dean speeds up. “Come for me, angel.”

“Oh,” Castiel whispers, his eyes sliding closed at the nickname. He exhales once and then his body bows in Dean’s hands. His cum flies through the air between them, landing all over his own stomach and chest. A few drops even get on his chin.

Moaning, Dean leans forward and licks at the cum on Castiel’s face. Then he presses his lips to his in a rough kiss and bucks into him twice more before stilling, buried as deep as possible inside him. Castiel moans and bites Dean’s lip, then licks the spot.

As Dean comes down from his high, he rests on his elbows and presses his forehead against Castiel’s shoulder. They both suck in deep, shaky breaths until their bodies have calmed. Then Dean is gently pulling out and rolling off Castiel. He stands up, about to grab a towel from the bathroom to clean them, but stops when he sees Castiel’s face.

“Where are you going?” Castiel whispers, sounding more like a small child than a former angel turned man.

Dean’s heart nearly breaks. “Just to the bathroom, angel.”

“I thought you were leaving.”

“No, Cas.” Dean leans down, pressing a firm kiss to Castiel’s sweaty forehead. Castiel hums in happiness and relaxes. “I’m never going to leave you. I promise.”

[floralseokjin]

A series of hook ups with Kim Seokjin, the college’s biggest fuckboy…

↳  the index [ bonus #5 the request ]

pairing; kim seokjin x reader genre/warnings; smut, oral sex and anal fingering (male receiving) wordcount; 3,828

“Ffffuck. Yes. Ride it.” Seokjin looked like he was having the time of his life, laid back, head softened by his pillows with the perfect view. His jaw was slack, little motivational phrases leaving him like you needed psyching up. You didn’t need to be told to ride his dick when you already were. And doing a good job of it if you did say so yourself. Ever so slowly dragging his dick inside of you, rolling your body in some sort of melodic rhythm. You were getting fancy now. 

One of his hands grazed your side, touch gentle, as if he didn’t want to manhandle you. God, you really had Kim Seokjin right where you wanted him – if you wanted him that was. 

“You’re heaven. This is what heaven feels like.” He was babbling, pleasure gone to his head. It wasn’t your fault you had a magic pussy. He’d told you that a few times. Pussy was getting quite a ring to it. 

“Quit talking and just feel,” you griped. 

“You’re right,” he nodded, expression turning serious. “And watch.” His hand found one of your breasts now, palming the soft flesh before his fingertips traced your nipple. The other found your ass. “God, you’re fucking body.” He squeezed softly, you felt a pulse down below and gleed silently when he began to roll you into his cock, surprisingly slowing down your original pace even more. 

He groaned. It went on for a while. “Ride it so slow I’ll last forever.” 

He didn’t. He came in the next five minutes, body a sheen of sweat and eyelids heavy. It ran down your leg as you lifted up but you’d shower in a moment. There were more important things at hand. Like the way he spanked your ass lightly, pulling you down to lie across his body. 

“God, you’re the best.” He praised and your head felt heavy but that was just the sex, right? His mouth met yours and it didn’t make it any better. 

“You could ask me to do anything right now and I’d agree, whatever the consequences,” he sighed, pulling away. 

Now, that might just do it. 

“Well.....” You began without much thought, acting with a clouded mind. “I do have a request...maybe...” He cocked an eyebrow, instantly all ears. You shrugged, rising up a little so you were looking down at him. “It’s multiple questions, a one man consensus of sorts.” 

He clutched your body to him. “Ask away, my beautiful, sexy angel.” You rolled your eyes. You admit his exaggerated words got to you the first time, but now it was all just the same. Well, if you continued to refuse to explain the warm glow that settled in your chest. It was there right now, but you’d gotten better at ignoring it. 

You continued. “You like my ass?” 

“Of fucking course,” he exclaimed, squeezing said body part between his palms. “I like it too much, could get hard again just feeling it...” 

You paused, unsure how to continue. This all seemed a little crude now the moment was slowly fading away. You felt unclean, more of his cum leaking out. His fault. 

“You like...fingering me ass?” 

His body stiffened slightly under you, not expecting that, but he nodded and hummed loudly. “Haven’t done it in a while.” He caught the glint in your eyes, pushing his head back to study you better. That beautiful double chin. You were not even being sarcastic. 

“What is this?” His smile was a little unsure. He swallowed and then all of a sudden he was comedically serious. Tone sincere. “If you’re about to ask me to fuck your ass, I need to admit something...” That wasn’t it, but you let him continue regardless. “I’m not emotionally ready to do that. I know I always go on about it but I think I’d actually have an aneurysm if you wanted me like that right now.” 

You couldn’t help the burst of laughter that left you, clutching ahold of his head as you nodded it up and down. “Okay, please keep your brain. I need you.” He still looked worried. “I’m not letting you fuck my ass...yet.” 

He sighed, exhausted, throwing his head back against the pillows. “I’m hard again.” 

He was to, well, semi-hard. If you kept this up he’d be ready for round two in no time, but you feared you were about to kill the mood... 

“Let me fuck yours.” You threw the words out before you could get second thoughts, gaze stuck on him. He lifted his head up again, not quite believing his ears. “You know. With my fingers not my non existent dick.” 

“What?” He sounded weak. 

“I let you do it to me.” You were getting defensive, crossing your arms across your chest. And embarrassed. Perhaps it was a stupid idea... It was only a thought pecking away at the back of your brain. Blame late night (tipsy) conversations with Lina. Never tipsy enough to spill your secret mind you—at least not yet, but she’d inadvertently given you an idea. Y’know, there was nothing like a light bulb moment while discussing prostrate glands. 

“Y-yeah but it’s different.” He gulped wearily. “You like it.” 

“How do you know you don’t?” 

“I...” He trailed off, gaze throwing off to the wall. His cheeks were red. You couldn’t help but lean in to kiss one, nuzzling into his neck then. He was holding his breath. 

“Let me make you feel good,” you practically purred. 

“Now?” He asked softly, voice small. He sounded like he was about to agree. 

“No,” you giggled quietly. “Not right now, another day.” You lifted your head, looking at him hopefully. “So, that’s a yes?” He stayed silent but his eyes were a little unfocused. He needed a nudge. “You said you’ll agree to anything.” 

“Well, I wasn’t expecting that.” He was quick to defend but he was also quick to shrug. “But...okay. Yeah. I guess it’s only fair.” 

It was you who was left speechless, shocked he’d actually agreed. You still couldn’t quite believe it even when you came back from your shower, Seokjin hopping out of bed to go in after you. He wrapped his arm around your waist as he walked past, squeezing you to him and you couldn’t help but request something else. 

“Can I sleep here tonight?” 

He said yes instantly, giving you a look that told you: ‘Do you even have to ask?’

You planned for Friday evening. You didn’t mean to make it some sort of event, but you were both busy the next few days and Friday was the start of the weekend you so luckily had off from work. 

You did meet up once before that though. He gave you a ride home from Wendy’s and you accidentally ended up fucking in his car. It was your ass that did it. You’d bent over to pick up a penny you’d noticed while dashing to the vehicle and that had set him off. “My broke bitch is sexy.” A Shakespeare with words, truly. 

Out of breath and sweaty afterwards you’d cupped his face, tugging on his bottom lip with your teeth. “Still on for Friday night?” 

He’d just moaned and nodded, unable to stop himself stealing another kiss. 

So here you were. He was butt naked on your bed, you bare-chested, your panties protecting your last bit of modesty. He’d needed some warming up to “calm his nerves”, so your nipples were a little swollen and sticky, as well as your mouth. You’d been making out for forty-five minutes before you could even get him on his back, legs spread a little, just so you could sit right in between. 

He looked down his chest, watching you kiss his stomach slowly, hands grazing the inside of his thighs, moving closer to his dick. You’d already jerked him off to complete fullness and despite his obvious apprehension, he was still solid, bobbing against his abs. You looked at him as you took him in your fist again. 

“This is disturbing.” 

“Shut up,” you scoffed, squeezing the base. He twitched. 

“For you, I mean.” His voice was all tense and small. 

Fair enough. The position he was in was vulnerable for him. “It’s hot,” you reassured him, smiling. He gave you one back. You were not used to him being this quiet. Not used to him being this nervous. You were nervous too. This was just as new for you. At least he knew what to do. 

You shook your head, dispelling the anxious energy, and licked the head of his dick. He hissed, hips jumping a little, and you repeated before wrapping your mouth around him. Your idea was to melt him a little but he was just as tense beneath you. 

You came up for air, hands massaging his thighs. “Will you just relax.” 

“I am relaxed,” he insisted, sounding pissy. 

“Your ass cheeks are clenched.” You informed him, rounding the meat in your palms now. 

He jumped. “They’re not. It’s muscle.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m just sucking your dick, Seokjin.” Your voice was sickly sweet, trying your best to distract him. To distract yourself probably. You took him back in, swirling your tongue around the flesh, flicking it against the largest vein, and he finally began to break, a moan cracking in his throat. You looked up at him, tightening your lips to bob your head up and down before trailing your tongue up the head, pointing it as you flicked off the tip. He groaned, hands coming out to cup your head, holding you tightly as you repeated, getting him as wet as possible. He didn’t break eye contact. 

“Look so good with my dick in your mouth,” he said, voice low. 

You hummed, pulling off again to lick the flat of your tongue across his balls. His fingers dug into your skull a grunt leaving him. He was as docile as you were about to get him tonight. “Can I get the lube?” 

He froze, but nodded his head slowly, removing his hands. “Y-yeah.” 

You sat up on your knees to stretch over him and you took one of his hands, wrapping it around his dick, signalling him to move while you slid your drawer open. He listened, the sloppy noises filling the room as he jerked his fist through your saliva. You took the bottle with you and he eyed it with uncertainty as you squeezed some on the tip of your fingers. When you got back down he instantly tensed up, stomach squeezing tightly, hand stopping dead. 

“Seokjin,” you murmured gently, holding the back of your hand against his thigh for a moment, to save the lube running down your fingers. You used your other hand to take him in your fist. He let you, dropping his to the side of the bed. “I won’t do it if you don’t want to.” You told him, kissing the head of his dick, hints of tongue following. 

“No,” he shook his head, a tiny moan leaving him as you took him in your mouth again. “Want you to. Just nervous.” His honesty touched you. You were nervous too, like you said, but you couldn’t exactly tell him that with a mouthful of cock. 

This time you pushed yourself to take him to his entirety, stuffing your mouth until it ached and you were making noises, but it was worth it, just to feel him melt under you. After a minute or so you brought your lube coated fingers to his balls. He jumped but didn’t go to stop you. You thought he might be holding his breath though, waiting for it. Waiting for you. 

You didn’t waste any more time. You found his entrance, pushing softly, rubbing small circles, really just copying what he’d done to you in the past. He was completely frozen now, and distracted, you forgot you had his whole dick in your mouth, gaging once, twice, before you had to pull off him, eyes pricking with tears, face probably an unflattering red.  

“God,” he groaned, slamming his head back into the pillows. “Even you choking on my dick can’t distract me.” You giggled at that, kissing his hip bone, wriggling your finger against him. “Cold!” He yelped.

“It’ll warm up,” you hummed against his skin, deep in concentration. You wanted to push inside but you were more than nervy now, afraid to cause him pain. You knew the feeling well but Seokjin had always taken it slow and gentle so it never hurt too much. What if you couldn’t be as careful? What if he had a lower pain threshold? He was a man after all… 

“Why do you want to do this?” He asked you suddenly, and it took you a moment to realise his gaze had been on you for a while. He sounded curious, and definitely less nervous. 

You tilted your head to the side. “Why do you like doing it to me?” 

“It’s hot.” He answered immediately – confidently.

“Exactly!” You exclaimed loudly with a laugh. 

He just looked clueless. As if this could ever be hot for you. He frowned. “You’re way hotter than me.” 

Your chest swelled at that. Goddamnit. And you couldn’t stop your smile, choosing just to go with it in the end, pushing with a little more confidence as you spoke. “I appreciate the sentiment.” 

“Oh, fuck,” he gasped, thighs squeezing around your shoulders as the tip of your finger slipped inside him. The lube and your movements had slacked him a little, and he was hot inside. Hot and soft as you went a little further. Second knuckle deep. 

“I’ll go slowly. Tell me if it hurts.” 

“Doesn’t hurt. Just feels weird,” he grimaced. You looked up at him, his cheeks round and rosy, fringe stuck to his forehead. Poor guy had broken out into a sweat. He looked mouth-watering though. “You can go all the way in.” He told you. It came out in a sort of breathy huff. Your belly dipped, a burning between your legs about to prove hard to ignore. 

Before you could listen though, he was cursing loudly. You looked up in alarm. “Fuck. Suck my dick again. I’m going down.” You glanced down, watching as he took it in his fist. He was still hard but it did look a little deflated. You rolled your eyes, swatting his hand out the way to take its place. 

“I think that’s normal,” you murmured. Talking in whispers was making this seem much more intimate. Well, it was intimate, but it was still making you feel fuzzy inside, tingling with something that wasn’t quite just excitement. It was hard to explain. “Relax,” you reassured, but you began to slide his dick through your palm, dipping your head to kiss and suck underneath it. It was a foreign sensation, it was bound to shock him. 

You took him back in your mouth, hearing him sigh in relief and concentrated on getting him as stiff as you could for the moment, distracting him before pushing inside his ass further. To your surprise he moaned a little louder. You sucked on the tip of his cock to signal your triumph and his hips jumped up. 

“I’m fully in.” You spoke aloud. Probably unnecessarily. “Now gotta find your prostate.” Definitely unnecessarily. 

“Do you want me to get soft again,” he sighed in annoyance, fidgeting, and he popped out of your mouth. “Stop talking like you’re giving me an examination.” 

“Sorry,” you pulled a face, leaning your head back. “This looks good.” You spoke again, really unable to stop. He looked good. Dick hard and wet against his stomach, thighs open, and your hand…your hand between his legs. You experimentally curled your finger. Repeating when he didn’t dispute.  “What does it feel like?” 

“Like you’ve got a finger in my ass.” He said quietly, but still had the obvious Seokjin sass in his voice. You shrugged a shoulder, tying harder to find the spot. Harder you curled, and finally he gave you something. A groan, his ass lifting off the bed. “Shit.” 

“What?” You asked, eyes wide. You hadn’t realised but your heart had been beating pretty loudly in that chest of yours. 

“That then.” He jerked his hips, staring up at the ceiling. “Felt nice.” 

“Really?” You were shocked but happy you were doing it right. 

“Mmhm.” He nodded. “Again.” You obeyed, curling again. He shuts his eyes, a satisfied hum leaving him. “Oh. Yeah.” 

You wanted to ask him what it felt like again but you didn’t want to be annoying. Instead you found yourself wrapping your mouth around his cock. He was hot all over and you wanted to make him feel out of this world, but multitasking seemed impossible right now. You were just slobbering on his dick at this point, unable to bob your head and curl your finger at the same time. A true disappointment. 

“I feel like I’m learning to give head for the first time,” you grumbled, pulling off him and wiping your chin with your free hand. “Can we change positions?” He looked curious, nodding his head. “I’ll get on my back. You can move.” 

You settled for propping your head against a pillow, comfortable as Seokjin knelt over you, dick level with your face and you wasted no time taking him back in your mouth, running back and forth along his rigid member. When you looked up at him he began to rock his hips a little, a choked moan leaving his mouth. 

He took your hand, moving it to his ass, and you gripped the flesh. “Are you going to...? Again?”

He sounded a little fucked out, hopeful, and wrecked, and that had your belly dipping and flipping, and whatever else it wanted to do. You shifted uncomfortably, your other hand running up and down his stomach. “I’m really wet.” It needed to be said, pulling off his cock. Just to speak it out loud before you lost your sanity. 

“From all this?” He wondered, sounding amazed. You nodded, sliding your fingers between his ass, getting ready to push inside again. This time he took it without so much as flinching, a hand stretching behind him to run down your thigh. “Fuck.” He breathed, licking his bottom lip when you sucked him back into your mouth. 

He cupped your head in his hands, smoothing down your hair. “You make me feel so good” You hummed around his dick. “I wouldn’t do this with anyone else.” His words seemed too intimate for what was going on right now. He spoke in whispers, like he was confessing something. You guessed he was. 

You pulled away again, kissing his hip bone. “Likewise.” That made him smile. It was true. You wouldn’t be caught sticking fingers in any random ass… You curled mid thought, hearing him grunt, and paused. “Can I add another?” 

“Yeah,” he replied quickly, and you rubbed your middle finger against the rim, curious if he could take the stretch. Slowly you began to ease it in, pulling both out to try again. He was tighter now, and hotter, squeezing against your digits. You sucked his dick again and this time he moved for you, jerking his hips in time with your fingers, slipping them in further. You relaxed your throat, concentrating on flicking your tongue and curling your fingers. Your pads found the spot again, pressing down. His cock jerked in your mouth. 

“Fuck. It twitched.” He sounded amazed and pulled away, watching with wide eyes. Your chin was wet, drops of your saliva having spilt out the corners of your mouth. You wiped it away quickly and pressed again. His dick jerked upwards. “Fuck.” He moaned. “Keep going.” He pushed his cock against your mouth. “I’ll cum.” 

“Mhmm, really? Fuck my mouth a little faster.” You sounded out of breath, excited. “Want you to cum.” 

“I’ll try to be gentle,” he rushed, pushing inside quickly. You were too far gone to care, continuing to curl your fingers, concentrating on getting him off. To make him feel good. “Ffuck—you’ve really found that spot,” he chuckled breathlessly, a hand reaching out in front of him for the wall. He hit it with a bang, thrusting into your mouth. There was noises coming from everywhere; the squelching of the lube, slick noises of his cock, Seokjin’s grunts, the moans you made around him… 

“I’m gonna. Gonna cum.” He managed to get out, and you pressed against him one last time, hard, feeling him buckle above you. Pants and moans blurring into one. “Yeah. Oh, yeah. Fuck.” His cum coated your throat quickly, hot, and you swallowed it as it came, sucking him dry. The hand that wasn’t against the wall gripped your hair as he slipped out halfway from your mouth, letting his dick settle as it softened. You slowly removed your fingers from him, cupping his ass instead. 

He was panting a lot still. Eyes unfocused, sweaty too, his hair curling to his temple. “I can’t see.” He said weakly, and you finally moved back with a chuckle, his dick sliding down your chin. “I don’t think I’ve ever cum that hard before.” 

His trembling hands showed that. In fact, his whole body was trembling as he moved back, mattress squeaking under his weight. You sat up straighter, back stiff, legs needing to stretch out. You were pretty speechless right now. He just reached to kiss you. It was easier than talking. Sometimes better. 

“Yeah. Might have to just eat you out a lot tonight,” he said apologetically. Maybe for once he’d finally cum enough. 

“We have all night,” you murmured, rubbing his side with your clean hand. Right now, despite how turned on you were, you could just chill out. That had been enough to exhaust you. You needed a moment too. “I need to rinse my hands though.” 

“Oh. Yeah,” he agreed almost awkwardly, moving down the bed. “I should clean up too.” 

You followed him, reaching for your tank top. “So. Would you do that again?” You asked curiously, haze beginning to pass as you stretched the fabric over your head. Conversation began to flow again. Seokjin’s voice sounded a little more normal. 

“It’s not a definite yes. But maybe,” he replied. “It was intense. Good, but intense. Was it okay for you?” 

You understood. It was fine to try something new, but it wasn’t like you were about to make it a regular thing. You’d enjoyed it though. You wanted to show him how much. 

“Seokjin, put your hand in my underwear real quick.” You giggled. He just looked at you with confusion. You spread your legs, your sopping underwear sticking to your core. “In fact, you don’t need to even do that,” you added, looking down. 

The whimper he gave you told you he’d seen the soaked patch… 

Written 2018. Reworked/Edited 2020 Please refrain from posting my work elsewhere. No translations allowed. © floralseokjin 2020

[bravonovel]

On an Island with a Bad Woman

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On an Island with a Bad Woman novel is a Romance story about Melody and Jonathan.

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I lived in an extremely biased family; my sister studied for her college entrance examination every night, while I was forced to do household chores. I even had to do the laundry for the family, including my sisters’ lingerie just so that it didn’t take up her precious time although I was in my senior year, too. Sometimes, when I delayed the household chores in favor of studying, I would be dressed down severely. All this stemmed from the fact that I was adopted. My parents passed away in a car accident, and there was no other relative in my family.Matthew Yates was my father’s comrade-in-arms, and he took me home to raise me. He was very good to me, but Melody Ziegler and Rosalie Yates detested me, the latter in particular. Melody was his deceased wife’s best friend who helped to manage the family’s finances. She claimed that she wanted to help her best friend raise her daughter, but I knew full well that she wanted to marry Matthew because he was rather well-to-do.Rosalie, on the other hand, was his daughter. She’d been picking on me ever since the day Matthew brought me home, so Melody joined hands with her in bullying me. We were in the same class, but she always disparaged me before our classmates, asserting that I was a useless person who sponged off her family. I only had new clothes during New Year, yet she also told our classmates that it was her father who bought me clothes. Then, she’d spit on my clothes and even doodle on them with a ballpoint pen, declaring that it was her father who paid for them, so she could do anything she wanted to them! Thus, I was tantamount to her dog in class, and many classmates scorned me because of this.However, I still worked exceedingly hard because my greatest dream was to leave this place and have my own life. Hence, I often stayed up late and studied hard. In the end, my results even surpassed Rosalie’s. Overjoyed, Matthew gave me two grand as a reward. It just so happened that our class was organizing a graduation trip out to sea on a yacht. I wanted to go as well since I had a few close friends in class. I wouldn’t be coming back anymore after attending college, so I wanted to have some beautiful memories with them.The night before we set out, I took water to wash Rosalie and Melody’s feet as usual. This was something I’d been coerced into doing all these years. Matthew was often away due to work, so they took the opportunity to bully me. They were both beauties, always wearing super short spaghetti strap nightgowns that had their long and slender legs on display. Others thought that they loved being sexy at home, but I knew that it was for photography purposes. They were Internet celebrities on TikTok with tons of fans, for they attracted them with sexual appeal. Both of them were b*tches, but I dared not say anything to Matthew since I didn’t want him to be caught in a family conflict.As I washed Rosalie’s feet, she casually lifted a leg and placed it onto my shoulder after I’d washed it. She then wiped her leg on my shoulder and against my chest, soiling my clothes without a care as to how short her dress was. Nevertheless, I dared not steal a peek because I knew that they would gouge my eyes out. After all, in their eyes, I didn’t even have the right to look at them!At this time, they were talking about the yachting trip tomorrow, growing increasingly excited as they spoke. Out of the blue, Melody ordered me, ‘Stay home tomorrow and keep an eye on things at home.‘Upon hearing that, I panicked. ‘Didn’t Uncle Matthew give you an extra two grand and say to take me along?‘Rosalie, however, denied that vehemently. ‘When did he do that? If you want to go, you’ve got to pay your own way. Don’t use my father’s money. I know he gave you two grand as a reward!‘What b*tches! Well, this is exactly what I’d expected in the first place!All of a sudden, Melody whipped out a tank top and hot pants. ‘I bought you new clothes, darling! They’re the branded stuff you want and cost exactly two grand.‘ My temper spiked when I heard this.That was my money!I lifted my head to look at the clothes, only to be greeted by the sight of her stretching out her legs, revealing the mature purple panties that were semi-translucent underneath her super short dress. I was so caught up that she caught me staring and abruptly slammed her leg into my face, rubbing her feet against my face as she snarled in repulsion, ‘You hideous beast, did you think you’re worthy of staring at me? A toad like you doesn’t even deserve to peek at my panties!‘Profound humiliation stung me.Yes, I’m a hideous beast! My face is littered with acne scars, rendering me a gruesome sight! However, that’s because you never bought me any facial cleanser or facial soap! At times, I don’t even have a bar of soap and am forced to resort to using detergent to shower. Could I be anything other than a hideous beast when I’ve been living such a life?Suppressing my tears, I continued washing their feet, yet they still chatted and laughed without a care for me!After I was done washing their feet, I took out the two grand Matthew gave me. Snatching it away in a fell swoop, Rosalie exclaimed, ‘What a shameless leech! How brazen that you even wanted to use my father’s money to go on a trip! Considering the fact that your money had bought me new clothes, I’ll spare you today!‘ She then happily left with Melody. Meanwhile, my hands clenched into fists as hatred filled my heart.Her new clothes were still on the sofa, a set of extremely sexy tank top and short pants that would definitely thrust her into the limelight during the yachting trip.These were bought with my money!All at once, I remembered that she’d be performing a jazz dance before our entire class tomorrow. Anger suffusing me, I picked up a pair of scissors and snipped off the threads, leaving just a tiny bit.As long as her movements tomorrow are vigorous enough, the pants will split open, embarrassing her for certain before the entire class! This is my revenge!After doing this, I pushed down the aggravation within me and went to bed…….

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[the-truest-sentence-i-know]

Chapter Three: The Underground

Fandom: Disney’s Descendants

Summary: Quinn Little, raised in Auradon by Little John, finds out that her heritage is not what she thought it was. When Little John tells her that her real father was a villain, she must go on a journey of self-discovery that will bring her to all the forbidden places in the United States of Auradon. Pre-canon & canon compliant to the first Descendants film.

Word Count: 4k  |  3/23

ao3 ||| ff.net ||| wattpad ||| quotev

Walking down the streets of Auradon Central, Quinn asked Mark, “Alright, seriously, where are we going?”

“Just a little place where you can get the stuff you need over there,” said Mark.

“Right.”

“So, how were you planning on getting there?”

“Uh...” Quinn had not yet thought about that. The only way to get onto the Isle was a bridge that was only accessible through a Crown-sanctioned vehicle. They were well-guarded and hardly ever went to the Isle. There was no other way to get to the Isle, except for. “By boat,” she said, suddenly. “Shipments go to the Isle periodically, with food and other supplies. I’ll stow away on one of them.”

They turned into an alleyway that was so small that it was easily overlooked. It was much different than the street they had just been on; it was dark and quite dirty, a severe contrast to the clean, white cobblestones they had just been walking on.

It seemed to end at a dead end, but Mark pushed on the back wall, which turned out to be a door. Behind this door, there was a dark staircase followed by a passageway and Mark took out his phone to light the way. The temperature plummeted as soon as he closed the door. As hey walked, their footsteps echoing ahead of them, Quinn could hear scurrying and dripping sounds.

“Mark,” she whispered, staying close to him. “Where are we going?”

The part of his face that she could see in the dim light of his phone light was cautious. “You’ll see.”

Soon they reached the end of the tunnel and went up another flight of steps. Mark pushed on a battered wooden door and it opened onto an alleyway that looked a lot like the one they had come from. As Mark closed the door behind them, Quinn walked ahead to where the alley met the main street.

Quinn looked around in wonder. Auradon had always been colourful, but now she saw how limited its palette was. Instead of only the brightest or most pastel colours, the buildings and clothing here used deeper shades in addition to those of the rest of Auradon. There were much more uses of black, as well as the purples and greens most associated with villains. Some of the people walking past had grey armbands.

“What do those bands mean?” Quinn asked quietly as they walked down the cobbled street.

“Those are members of the Underground Council,” Mark said, and Quinn looked over to see him putting one around his arm. She looked at him in surprise.

“What?” he asked with a grin. “You didn’t think you were the only rebellious one, did you?”

Quinn tried not to stare at the outfits of those they passed. Some of the women wore pants here, and some of the men wore dresses and skirts. There were fabrics no other hero would wear: leather and denim, which was sometimes ripped and frayed. Some had colourfully dyed hair, or multiple piercings or tattoos.

Quinn could almost hear what Fairy Godmother, or her other teachers, might say, but she pushed them aside, instead finding the beauty in everything she saw. There was so much more variety here!

“Here we are,” Mark said stopping in front of a shop called The Princess’ Wardrobe.

Quinn raised her eyebrows. “Really?”

“The name is tongue-in-cheek,” he said with a smile. “I promise.”

They stepped inside, the bell over the door tinkling as they did so. As Quinn looked around, she knew that Mark was right. This was definitely not your typical Auradonian clothing store. There were combat boots and ripped denim and studs and leather, so much leather. She smiled widely; from what she had seen of news broadcasts about the Isle, this would be the perfect place to find something to wear to fit in.

“Mark!” exclaimed the woman behind the counter. She was wearing a black dress with ripped tights and combat boots. Her hair was short and a shocking shade of neon green. If the Fairy Godmother saw her, Quinn was pretty sure she would faint.

“Hey, Chloe!” said Mark, kissing her lightly on each cheek before turning to Quinn. “This is Quinn.” He turned back to her with a slight grin on his face. “And she’s hoping for a change in style.”

The corner of her deep plum lips pulled up in a grin. “That is one of my favourite things to hear. What kind of change?” Her eyes sparkled in interest.

“I was hoping for a kind of Isle-lite?” Quinn said cautiously. “Like not fully leather, but like.”

“Denim?” Chloe supplied.

“Yeah.”

“Well, let’s see what we can do, shall we?”

Mark gave Quinn a knowing smile as Chloe began to hunt around the racks of clothing. For the next half hour, Quinn tried on outfits – all of which seemed fine to her but did not quite satisfy Chloe. She was like a barely contained ball of chaos, flitting around the store. Mark watched it all with an amused look on his face, having seen Chloe work her magic many times before.

Finally, when Quinn exited the change room, Chloe stood back, standing still for the first time. She smiled. “Perfect. It’s confident, a little delinquent, but in a ‘steal from the rich, give to the poor’ kinda way.” She winked. “Cute, but a little dangerous, and practical for movement.”

Quinn could not help but smile at the description, because it was exactly what she had been hoping for. Black skinny jeans, forest green tank top under a fishnet top and dark denim jacket, paired with black leather boots and green leather fingerless gloves. She liked how the green still nodded to Sherwood; Chloe knew what she was doing.

“And if you wanna make it a little sexy,” Chloe said. “You wear the fishnet top over a bra.” She lowered her voice with a grin. “but make sure Mark’s not around because he’ll go all older-brother on you.”

Quinn laughed, especially when she saw the look of disapproval that came over Mark’s features. When she looked in the mirror, she could see herself belonging on the Isle. She raised her chin and clenched her fists at her sides, and the glint that came into her eyes made her shiver a little. She would fit in just fine.

•••

“So, what exactly is this place?” Quinn and Mark were sitting in café, looking out at the people passing by.

“You mean, why is it a thing?” Mark asked.

Quinn nodded. “I mean, I love it, but how did it start?”

“I’m not exactly sure how, but it came to be because there are actually a lot of people who don’t agree with how Auradon is run and all the performative goodness that goes on.”

“Like all the stuff we Sherwood kids would talk about at school,” Quinn said with a slightly wistful smile.

“Yeah, there are actually a lot of Sherwood kids that either live here or are involved here. The Underground Council, or UC, will run campaigns sometimes. Remember when the sidekicks got a council in government a couple of years back?”

Quinn nodded.

“The UC helped with the campaign that made that happen.”

“I’m assuming they’re also not huge fans of King Beast.”

“No,” Mark said with a laugh. “I doubt you’ll find a single pro-King Beast person here.”

“Well, then I guess I fit right in,” Quinn looked out past the buildings to the mountains on the horizon. “And we’re not really underground either, where is this?”

“It’s right on the outskirts of Auradon City but surrounded by mountains and thick forest. There are very few ways to get in.”

“How have I never heard of it?”

“Well, a lot of people know we exist – maybe not where exactly – because of the campaigns and whatnot, but they tend to pretend we don’t. We stay out of sight and they don’t mind us.”

“But why stay out of sight?”

“In the beginning, it was more like a haven for likeminded people, where they could speak their minds. For now, we can make the most change this way, but there is hope that we can slowly open up and maybe change people’s minds with our integration.”

The clothes still felt weird, a little bit more snug than Quinn was used to. But she loved the confidence they gave her.

She and Mark sat on their horses in the patch of trees at the edge of the shipyard. In the patches of light that the floodlights cast on the dark area, they could see workers loading crates onto the ship. They were silent for a bit.

“You know that once you’re on the ship, I won’t be able to contact you,” said Mark finally.

“I know,” Quinn said, still watching the loading of the ship.

“And you know that coming back will be a lot harder, if not impossible.”

“I know.” She knew he was looking at her. She could tell he didn’t want her to go. After all his helping and planning, he didn’t want to let her. Maybe he never thought she would go through with it. Maybe he thought meeting the Undergrounders would satisfy her need to belong.

But Quinn knew she had to go. She would regret it if she didn’t. She would always wonder what her life would have been like over there.

Taking a deep breath, Quinn slipped off of Onyx’s back. Mark followed suit as Quinn slung her backpack over her shoulder. They crept towards the ship, staying out of the light and out of the sight of the workers. While learning how to move stealthily through the forest had been one of the things both their fathers had taught them, this was a bit different. There was no moss or sticks or animals, just concrete and piles of crates and bags.

Eventually, they made it near the ship and, hiding behind a pile of crates marked BREAD, Quinn turned to Mark. “I’ve got it from here,” she whispered.

He looked over at her, concern in his eyes and opened his mouth to say something.

Quinn held up a hand to stop him. “I’m not backing out now, so don’t try to convince me.”

A small grin spread across his face as he shook his head. “I just wanted to wish you good luck.” He straightened her backpack strap. “Be careful and don’t let them know where you’re from.”

She smiled. “I promise.”

“Good.” He gave her a big hug and then quickly slipped away into the darkness.

While the shipments to the Isle were not exactly secret, there was not a lot of public information. The main shipment was food since the Isle was one big city with no farmland. From a vantage point down the shoreline, they had mapped out the schedule. However, the actual boarding of the ship would have to be improvised because they couldn’t risk going to the shipping yard twice.

Fortunately, there was basically no security on this side. After all, who would want to leave Auradon?

Quinn watched from the shadows as the workers grabbed sacks and crates and walked up the various gangplanks. Fortunately, she had had the foresight to pull a pair of wide pants and a formless shirt over her outfit, to better match the dock workers. From her pocket, she grabbed a rather large cap that would hopefully obscure her face enough to not arouse suspicion.

After trying to tuck as much of her hair into it as she could manage, Quinn scurried over to a pile of smaller sacks. She quickly shouldered one and followed the line of men tramping up the nearest gangplank. She kept her head down as she walked. The sack was fairly heavy but those around her didn’t seem to be having any trouble, so she pretended she was fine as well.

They tramped down to the hold and Quinn saw the men ahead of her deposit their loads in a pile near stacks of crates. After tossing her sack onto the pile as well, Quinn pretended to stumble and – as she did so – tossed a pencil towards a pile of crates across the hold.

Sighing, she scampered after it. Once she was out of sight of the other men, she scooped up the pencil and slipped between some crates. Certain that no one could see her, she carefully sat down and leaned against the crate behind her.

Quinn listened to the scuffling in the hold for about half an hour. When the hold became quiet, she heard the hum of machinery grow louder. She felt a tug in her stomach as they began to move and her heart began to race.

A smile spread across her face as she slipped out of her hiding place. The hold was pitch-black and Quinn – stumbling with the rolls of the waves – felt her way to the stairs. She tiptoed up the steps to the main deck, holding tight to the railing.

It was a perfect night, near a new moon, so the only natural light on deck came from the stars. Some yellow light spilled out of the bridge at the back of the ship, but for the rest, it was quite dark. From what Mark and Quinn could tell, very few Auradonian workers stayed on the ship for the journey, if any.

Trying to keep out of sight of the bridge, Quinn made her way to the front of the ship. The wind was strong and blew her hair and made her clothing flap around her body.

She had always loved wind – it fascinated her. She loved how it would howl around the school during heavy storms. Sometimes, on windy days back in Sherwood, she would stick her head above the trees and let it blow through her hair.

But this was so much different. This cold wind was combined with the faint spray of water and the salty smell in the air. While the smell of the forest was safe, this smell held danger and adventure. It was intoxicating.

Was this what had drawn her father to seafaring? Did he love the wind out at sea as well? Perhaps on the Isle, she could learn more about who he was.

In the distance, Quinn could see the island. There were far fewer lights than in Auradon. There was an odd trick of the light too, making it look like there was a giant bubble around the island.

That must be the magical barrier, she thought.

As they approached the barrier, it shuddered and an opening just large enough for the ship to pass through appeared. Quinn held her breath as they slid through. She was now on the side of the villains. Her heart began to race with excitement.

The docks weren’t too far ahead and Quinn knew she had to think of a plan before she was seen. She had noticed ladder rungs along the side of the ship and – taking a breath – clambered over the side and down almost to the water. Even though the ship was slowing down, waves still crashed against the hull and soon she was soaking wet.

Quinn could now make out the docks. They were old-fashioned looking, worn rough wood on supporting stilts above the rocky shoreline. Figures stood on it with what looked like kerosene lamps.

When the ship was almost stopped at the docks, she slipped into the water, quickly paddling her way under the rough slats of wood. She had never been the best swimmer but managed to get to one of the support posts and hold onto it for a moment of rest.

Quinn heard boots stamping overhead as the ship was unloaded. She decided to get away from the docks during the commotion as there would be less likelihood of being seen.

Bracing herself, she let go of the post and began paddling towards the shore. Her arms and legs were beginning to feel heavy, but she kept going. She was so close.

Finally, panting and shivering, she crawled up the jagged rocks of the shore, avoiding the particularly sharp ones. It was dark underneath the dock with only some light filtering through from above.

She heard the shifting of stones ahead of her and realized that she might not be the only one down here. She reached for her belt and unsheathed her dagger as a precaution. Walking as quietly as she could, Quinn moved down the shoreline, nearing the end of the docks.

Suddenly, there was a burst of light as the ship turned on its lights, preparing to leave. It flooded the space with light and she saw two figures ahead of her. Tensing, Quinn held her dagger ahead of her as her eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness.

Two terrified pairs of eyes stared at her. They were just little kids, two boys in ragged denim. They held up their hands, showing that they were no threat. The bigger boy stood slightly ahead of the other. “We’ve got nothing for you,” he said, voice shaking a little.

He was afraid of her. Both of them were.

“I don’t need anything from you, I’m just passing by, alright?” she said.

They both nodded and as the ship began to move away, she carefully stepped around them. Once past them, Quinn strode quickly out from under the docks.

Suddenly, something grabbed at the back of her shirt and Quinn was lifted into the air and deposited ungracefully onto the wooden planks of the dock.

“Hey!” she exclaimed, picking herself up quickly. Her next complaint died in her throat as she saw the person who had grabbed her. She stared up at the ugliest face she had ever seen. Mottled grey-green skin and filthy teeth leering at her, grinning.

It wasn’t until he began speaking in a language that she vaguely recognized from history lessons that she realized: he was a goblin.

Seeing that she had no clue what he was saying, he switched to English. “Tryin’ to escape on the ship, eh?”

Quinn shook her head, quickly trying to regain confidence. “Of course not.”

He guffawed and slung her over his shoulder, striding down the dock towards the city. Quinn struggled, but there was no point. He stopped where the city began and tossed her unceremoniously into an alleyway. “Don’t let me catch you around here again,” he warned, walking away.

Groaning, Quinn looked out to sea, just in time to see the ship – her last connection to Auradon – slip through the barrier.

•••

The city was full of – almost seemed to be built with – shadows, in various shades of darkness. Quinn had taken off her outer clothes to fit in better, but the damp denim still restricted her movements a little.

There were a lot of people out and about for the time of night. They huddled in groups outside shops and ran down alleyways. Quinn tried to keep her head down even though she wanted to stare and take everything in. Even though most Auradonians would classify her surroundings as grungy and gross, she found them oddly fascinating. Flickering neon signs advertised for “Tremaine’s Curl up and Dye” and “Gaston’s Gentleman’s Pub.” Particularly loud guffaws came from the latter and she crossed on the other side of the street. She knew Gaston’s reputation.

As she was looking back at the pub, something tripped her up and she fell to the ground. Quinn heard snorts and laughter from behind her and quickly got to her feet.

“You’d better watch where you’re going,” said a girl with short, spiky red hair in studded black and pink leather. Her voice was exaggeratedly sweet and she smirked at the younger girl beside her. This girl also wore black and pink leather and had the same colour hair, which was worn in cornrows into a ponytail.

Getting back on her feet, Quinn tried to look confident. “Me look out? You were the one who was in the way.”

She tilted her head to the side and her smirk turned into the most terrifying grin Quinn had ever seen. The other girl – probably her sister – smiled in anticipation, stepping back a little.

“Well,” said the older girl. “Aren’t we feeling cocky tonight.” She stepped towards Quinn. “Do you know who I am, lowlife?”

She sounded so much like the girls in Auradon that Quinn felt her blood boil. Except they would always reference their parents’ reputations, not their own. “No, I don’t,” she said, standing her ground. “And I don’t really care about knowing the identities of lowlifes, as you say.”

The girl drew her tongue over her lips and took off her jacket, handing it to her sister. Drawing an elegant rapier from her belt, she took a defensive stance. “Well, let’s see who the lowlife is, then.”

Quinn drew her dagger quickly, earning her another smirk from the terrifying redhead. “Our weapons aren’t exactly equal,” she said.

“You should’ve thought of that earlier,” she said, attacking immediately.

By sheer luck, Quinn managed the block the stroke with her dagger. The girl pushed the blade nearer to her, but Quinn shoved it aside.

Quinn watched her blade for the next attack, but as she seemed to attack her right side, she slipped around Quinn’s left and kicked at the back of her knees. Quinn fell to the ground, turning towards the girl as quickly as she could, rolling out of the way of her rapier. Her eyes glinted in the faint light from the streetlights. She loved to fight.

Scrambling to her feet, Quinn held her dagger out in front of her. If only girls had learned more combat in Auradon. Unfortunately, even in Sherwood, the line was drawn at archery and quarterstaffs.

The girl looked over at her sister, rolling her eyes.

Overconfident.

Quinn ran at her, taking the girl’s move and pretending to go for her stomach and, as she blocked Quinn’s blade with hers, Quinn tried to punch her in the face. She managed to block this as well, but looked – at least, Quinn thought – impressed. Then she tossed Quinn to the ground.

Before Quinn could get up, the girl was on top of her, Quinn’s own dagger to her throat. “If we were more evenly matched, I probably would kill you,” she said. “But you’re boring me, so I’ll just leave you with a reminder.” She quickly sliced a cut on Quinn’s cheek, almost from her ear to her mouth. It was not deep, but it hurt. “Learn to fight before you pick one.”

She got up, still holding Quinn’s dagger, and began to walk away. Then she turned back and threw it towards Quinn’s face. She closed her eyes, bracing for impact, but it embedded itself in the dirt beside her head. “And I’m Skyla,” she said.

Her sister pulled Quinn to her feet by her collar. “I’m Scarlett,” she said with a smile that quickly disappeared, “and I would’ve been less lenient,” she sneered, punching her square in the nose.

Quinn stumbled against the wall as she heard their retreating footsteps. Hand over her nose, which was pouring blood, she quickly grabbed her dagger and hurried farther down the alleyway to be alone.

Trying not to cry, she sat against a brick wall in the darkness. The cut of her cheek stung and her nose throbbed and her entire body was sore from all of today’s events. Quinn dug the cap from her backpack and used it to wipe the blood from her hands and face before holding it to her nose.

It was starting to dawn on her that perhaps she was not cut out to live here. Even what she had learned in Sherwood seemed cushy compared to here. She may look the part, but she most certainly did not have the required skills.

Eventually, her nose stopped bleeding and the cut began to scab over. Quinn wiped away the few tears that had escaped against her will and shoved the bloody hat into her bag. She was here now and so she had to learn to survive here. And clearly, that meant avoiding conflict until she was able to handle it.

But first, she needed some rest. Nobody seemed to be coming down this alleyway, so Quinn curled up in the corner behind some foul-smelling trash cans, using her backpack as a pillow. It was much less comfortable than her bed at Auradon Prep, but she was exhausted, so she fell asleep quickly.

[mysteryfanfictheatre3000]

The Bargain and the Inevitable Fall, Part 1

The Bargain & the Inevitable Fall

by Somber_Resplendence

Summary:

Minister Frollo made a bargain and the gypsy gave in to the inevitable fall; or perhaps they both gave in.

This is another Hunchback story, but more “adult” and tagged as “extremely dubious consent.” And by that, they mean “graphic sexual assault.” The consent isn’t “dubious,” it’s just nonexistent. 

So, yeah. Warning: graphic torture and rape.

A snickering guard's laughter resonated within the darkened dungeons, his grip tightening on a blood dripping whip, speckles of the dark liquid covering the floor like stars covering the night sky. A darkened figure, garbed in black judicial robes, a crimson ribbon fluttering behind, swept the empty, forgotten corridors of the dungeons. His footsteps echoed, alerting the hopeless prisoners of the foreboding sense of death. He clasped his pale hands together, spindly fingers entwining as his rings of emerald and ruby gently clinked against one another. The Minister of Justice had arrived.

Well, at least it’s true to how he was portrayed in the movie. Lookin’ at you, Danisha.

"Minister Frollo!" the guard gasped, eyes widening in terror at the sight of the towering, menacing man whose granite eyes shimmered in disapproval as he narrowed his hardened gaze upon the blubbering guard.

"What are the charges?" he asked, his deep, baritone voice sending tremors through the stone walls. The guard shivered, lips quivering in response beneath his thick mustache where bits of breakfast were stowed away.

That’s a description I didn’t need to hear. Though, to be fair, gross mustaches should honestly be the least of my concerns.

"Thievery, Your Honor," said the guard, "She's been restrained for three days."

If they’re talking “restrained” as in “shackled to a wall restrained” for three straight days, I’m willing to assume at this point that Esmeralda is in severe pain if not unconscious, has muscle atrophy, and all the rest. 

 Trembling in the brooding presence of the Minister, he slid to the side, allowing the bright glow from within the prisoner's chamber to spill into the corridor. The orange pool of light cascaded upon the minister's tall frame, accentuating his stark features. He craned his neck and peered in, a black eyebrow shooting up in raw suspicion. Inside, a curvaceous body hung motionless from a set of rusted chains which were bolted to a brick wall; her head hung low, ink black hair shielding a beautiful but battered face.

Mixing the description of a woman being tortured with description of her curves and her beauty comes across as weird and very wrong-feeling. Don’t do that. Pick a mood: threatening or sexy.

Minister Frollo growled in satisfaction. He'd been expecting her. He twisted his dry lips into a wicked grin, and it stretched across his aged face, nearly reaching his ears.

Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew...

"Leave us be," he said, gracefully waving a slender hand towards the guard who quickly scurried away at the command, his clanking armor fading away as he scampered down the lonely corridor.

The Minister entered the grimy cell, slamming the door behind him, causing the prisoner's head to shoot up like a child waking from a terrible nightmare, drenched in sweat and panicking. 

Comparing a woman who is about to be raped to a child and expecting readers to find this alluring is... not right. It comes across as disturbing and makes people want to protect Esme, not have sex with her.

However, her nightmare was existent and on-going. Red-rimmed, emerald eyes fixated on the skeleton draped in Death's garments, and she shivered in alarm.

See, this is tagged and titled as if it were romantic and not horror. And that just doesn’t seem okay.

He neared her, cocked his head to the side, and jutted his chin out, cynical eyes watching her down the length of his aquiline nose; she was delicious. Her arms were pulled back, chained to the brick wall behind her alluring form, causing her chest to jut out due to the uncomfortable position. 

What’s sexier than a terrified young woman who’s been chained up for three straight days and described as being child-like? Boy, does that get people aroused. Innocent girls being tortured is so alluring!

And the Minister's eyes drank in every curve of her plump, succulent breasts, sweat glistening upon them and slipping down their shapely form into the crevice between them.

I feel like just reading this is putting me on a list.

He bit his lower lip and attempted to regain his soundness by straightening his narrow form and placing his needy hands, which longed to run across her shapely figure, behind his back, pale fingers entwining.

Needy is not the word this makes me think of. This makes me think Frollo is a literal demon from hell.

Also, where the hell are Phoebus and Quasi? Did they just vanish? Are they prisoners, too? Are they just okay with this happening to Esmeralda? What the hell?

"I'll make this simple for you, gypsy. You give me what I ask for and I'll let you walk out alive. An offer I'm sure you cannot refuse," he said. His voice slightly cracked due to her appealing position which stirred a burning sensation in his loins. 

Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew....

She teased him. Even in confinement, even in the nethermost, murkiest chamber of his dungeons, she tempted him. 

She is not teasing him, she is dying, and scared, and in pain. Talk about victim-blaming.

And as a means of suppressing his enduring, lustful passions, he began pacing the room, dense footsteps falling upon the blood stained floor, a rosary wrapped around his thin wrist swaying back and forth like a pendulum with his every swift movement.

"However, should you fail to comply with my demands I'll have to bestow upon you a befitting punishment. Is that understood?"

Ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew...

"I'm not afraid of you," she hissed, fury brewing within her gut, bubbling forth from her luscious lips. Her emeralds narrowed on his daunting frame, her gaze burning through his robes and setting his him aflame. 

These oddly sexualized descriptions are very out of place. 

She loathed him, and until the end of time, she'd use her every breath polluting his order and denouncing his reign.

"I believe you," he said flatly, "But I do trust that you have neither the authority nor the time to make such accusations, for as we speak my men are on the hunt, searching for that diminutive hideaway you so dearly consider to be enthralling. I, most assuredly, can guarantee you-"

"You'll never find the Court of Miracles," she interjected, her body lunging forward, chains rattling in the dead silence that followed her revolting words. She was lovely when draped in frustration, and the Minister grinned; his plan was unraveling perfectly.

A.) plan? and B.) how the hell did you capture her if you don’t know where the Court of Miracles is? If the charges of thievery are legitimate, that’s pretty racist. And why would she even need to steal, anyway? She made tons of money at the Festival from dancing alone.

"Correct you are, my dear," he said. Drawing near, his large frame towering above her, he forbiddingly ran a thin finger down the side of her hot cheek. His touch sent a cool sensation throughout her body, yet she refused to admit it, for he was a foul, loathsome beast. 

Yes, he is. And why everyone treats him like a sex bomb is beyond me.

And though his peculiar gesture made her stomach churn and her heart ache in a strange and unexplainable way, she couldn't help but to shudder in odd excitement at the feeling his dark and mysterious presence brought her.

*EW INTENSIFIES*

"However," he began, absentmindedly twirling a finger into one of her ebony locks, "I am willing to make a bargain with you. Give me the location of the Court of Miracles, and I'll let you walk out of here alive."

"Never," she said, turning away from him, allowing her lock of hair to gently slip away from his parched finger; the silky touch of her hair had felt heavenly.

Again, weird sexualized description is weird.

"I expected you'd say that," he said, withdrawing from her and steepling his fingers. "I suppose I'll have to change my methods."

Her brows knitted together in confusion as he crossed towards a wooden table which lay to the left of the small, dingy cell. A puddle of dirty water drowned its crooked legs, and a few splotches of crimson, which the gypsy assumed was blood, coated the countertop; the foul decoration of past victim's fluids was a worrying sight.

This entire story worries me. And, by the way if you’re ever trying to make a scene feel intimidating, don’t make half of it scary and half overly sexual. 

 The gypsy swallowed hard, daunting visions of unbearable torture swirling in her head; the crack of a whip filled her ears and made her jump, the pinch of clamps made her knees buckle, and the touch of hot wax dripping onto her goose bump skin nearly had her yelping in fear.

This is just making me want to hug her! The author’s intent is to have these seem arousing but all it accomplishes is making the readers sympathetic for Esme.

Silence entered the room and took a seat, and as she impatiently awaited her death sentence, vowing to seal her lips at all costs, a sound drew her from her thoughts. A golden ring, an emerald stone perched atop, fell to the table. The clanking sound shoved silence out of the room, and the gypsy stiffened, hands balling into fists within the metal restraints, chains slightly rattling. Another golden ring fell to the table, a red diamond hitting the wooden surface, and she clenched her teeth.

What is with this thing with the rings? Does Frollo even wear rings? Even if he does, why are they emphasized so very much?

Minister Frollo rubbed at his naked fingers before turning his attention back to his prisoner. The anxiety in her eyes was captivating, and to know he had sublime power over her weak emotions was gratifying as it was engaging. Growling lowly, he neared her again, his body pressing up against hers, forcing her into the damp brick wall behind.

NOT SEXY, JUST CREEPY.

"Tell me, gypsy. Where is the Court of Miracles?" he asked, a wandering hand climbing up the length of her leg, fingers digging into her flesh and leaving red imprints behind like a trail to be followed.

Poor Esmeralda. Like I said, not sexy. This is flat-out disturbing.

"You're dirt," she said, shivering in disgust at his actions while devastatingly trying to keep her secret kept.

"Don't insult me, you filth!" he snapped, a free hand snatching her by the neck. She stifled a breath and suppressed a cry of fear, but his grip didn't prove to be treacherous, for the rapid beating of her heart pounding from beneath his grip enticed him, and the soft touch of her flesh upon his own aroused once dormant feelings. Slowly, he loosened his hold, fingers gently sliding down her neck.

Prose purpler than Purpleberry Pond.

"Perhaps you aren't so filthy; perhaps you're sweet," he said, his desperate lips sinfully approaching her inviting neck where the beat of her heart beckoned him to draw near. "Shall I have a taste?"

*EW INTENSIFIES MORE*

His words pierced her, created a hole within her chest, and she fell cautious, confused, and oddly curious. But it was the way she parted her delicious lips in hesitation, and the way her shinning emerald eyes lost themselves in his question, which ultimately pulled at the rusted chains binding his suppressed longings. His lips gently brushed against her neck, and she winced; whether it was from disgust or shock, she didn't know. However, his breath warmed her and invited her to lose herself within his madness and to give into corruption. She refused, temporarily.

This is just... incredibly gross and squick-y. And the consent is not dubious. It just flat out isn’t there. This is verging quickly into sexual assault territory.

Tarnishing her, he ran his tongue along the length of her neck, and she gasped, chains rattling from her sudden jolt. His lips pressed onto her flesh, teased her earlobe, and carefully trailed down the work of her jaw line, nearing her quivering lips. A hand entangled itself within her raven hair, and she cursed him over and over; yet, when he claimed her lips with a kiss, darting his tongue into her hot mouth and scavenging every area he could, the world fell apart and burned. Her mind screamed obscenities, her body fell weak, and her lips unfaithfully deepened the forbidden kiss. It was unwelcomed, but needed; it was toxic, but relished. 

Woah, woah, woah. Stop. Quit making rape seem sexy. This is an elderly man molesting a young woman after she’s been tortured and chained to a wall for days on end. Hell, her muscles are so weak at this point (I mean, looking at this from a clinical standpoint, being shackled up for three days doesn’t help your health) that she wouldn’t even be able to stop him, making consent just nonexistent. 

He was warm, as if the sun lived within him, and she craved it; however, it was the fires of hell which warmed his blackened soul, and to the flames they committed.

Quit romanticizing rape.

His hand, stripped of golden ornamentations, lifted her skirts and trailed up her thighs, pausing at her most intimate region which was aching for him. From within their mad entangle, she felt his lips jerk into a wicked smile and before she could pull away and protest, a single finger slipped inside of her hot core. 

Again, literal, actual rape.This is not romantic. She is not giving consent. She is shackled to a wall. This is rape.

Her breath hitched, eyes widened, and her sanity fled her; She wriggled beneath his tall frame, ashamed at her desire to have more of him within her needy cunt. And as she hopelessly forced to break free, her every movement caused him to push his finger deeper, motioning it into a 'come hither' gesture.

She’s actively resisting him. He is penetrating her anyway, without her consent. This is rape and would be treated as such in a court of law.

She trembled and bit her lip in disgust at her sickening needs, but he reveled in the inner war she waged with her conscious.

NOT ROMANTIC. SHE DOES NOT WANT HIM. STOP.

[two VERY graphic passages cut because I may have done a story about Snaoe/Teletubby buttsex, but even I have standards.]

 She was panting, chest furiously rising up and down against his warm body, half-lidded eyes focusing on the blurred gleams of his golden rings lying on the table.

Again, what is with the focus on rings? 

"Tell me," he said in hoarse voice, breath tickling her neck. "Tell me where it's hidden and I'll set you free."

EW HAS INTENSIFIED TO THE POINT WHERE WORDS CAN NO LONGER EXPRESS IT.

She shut her eyes, the golden blur vanishing from her mind, and slumped forward, forehead resting upon his shoulder as his fingers continued to swirl within her. 

[more grossness cut because yuck]

This last sentence in particular is like something out of a romance novel- between an elderly rapist and a young woman chained to a wall. That doesn’t sit right with me.

"No," she gasped, voice hoarse and broken. He growled in frustration.

"Well, I suppose release will never find you," he hissed, removing his fingers, her sweet ecstasy dripping down his hand. He withdrew from her, his sudden warmth leaving her body cold, and she shuddered from the realization of being denied release. 

See, the author is talking about orgasming, but I am getting more of a sense that she wants to be “released” as in “no longer shackled to a wall and beaten.” I mean, she’s just been raped. I doubt she wants him to come back.

He refused to spare another glance at the gypsy and strolled towards the wooden table to collect his valuables. His game had been fun while it lasted, but it was a game nonetheless.

"Disgusting," he said while rubbing his fingers together, her hot fluids staining his pale skin. Scowling, he carefully adorned his slender fingers with the golden rings, as if they gave him comfort in returning to his supposed cleanliness and celibacy.

Again, stop with the weird focus on the rings. What is with this? They’ve been mentioned really often and it’s off-putting.

"Please," she begged pathetically, sweat sliding down her cheeks. "Please don't leave me like this."

Again, author is talking about sex, and I’m just thinking that she probably wants to be not chained to a wall anymore.

He halted, spindly fingers dripping with her ecstasy clutching the brass handle. For a moment he was silent until a thought blossomed in his darkened mind.

"I do not believe it is in your authority to make requests," he said, relishing her sigh of anguish that followed. "Well, no matter," he continued, easing the door open, "I'm certain you'll soon appreciate my generosity, gypsy. I'm a patient man, and should this little escapade of ours continue to carry on, then I shall be more than willing to oblige until your lips have spoken fact." He curtly smiled before stepping into the dim-lit hall and shutting the door behind, leaving her alone to rot in her misery.

Ė̸̡̛̛̥̥̭̼̹͉̗̠̤͔̱͙̟̟̋̈́͂̄͆͒͆̓̀ͅͅW̷̛̤͎̩͖̾̍̒̈́̇̐̉̀̀͠͝

For hours her legs trembled, her heart raced, and her body craved his touch; it was diabolical. However, as Minister Frollo returned to his quarters, gracefully gliding down the dungeon halls, he couldn't resist the urge to slip his fingers into his mouth and savor the gypsy's sweetness.

Į̸̛͕͉͎͉͕̻̬̺̜̺̤̮̫̝̺͎̟̙́̾͒̍̽̆̓͌̀̋̍͑́͆̽̒̀̌͋̀̓͝͝ͅͅ ̵̨̠͔̜̗̫͖̼̫̥̈́̀ͅw̷̧̮̭̦͍͇̫̬̫͔̬͖̝͍͇̭̰̻͚̻̬̕ͅa̴̜̱̍̈́̅̽̃̏̕ņ̸̡̛̛̤̫̩͉̜̞̯̖̥̠͓͓̯͚͉͕̄͊̓̓͗̈́͌̐̑͗̅̎͒͆͂̈́̏͘͘̚͜͜ͅt̷̝̮̻̳͔̜͎̰̤͍̖̗̥́̋̊͂̉́̋͒͒̐̋̉́͘͜͝͝͝ͅ ̸̛̜̥̟̯̜͒̓͂̒͋́͑͌͋̾̚͝͝͝t̵̢̡̡̧̛̺̻͈̮͉͎͙̝̰̝̤̣̦̘̩͇͙́̄͂̆̈́͐̽̏̅̈́̆͊̔͑͋̏͘̚͘o̸̢̞͔͎̩̰̩̥̩̟̪̭͒̽͆̅̃̌̓̅̃̽̐̏̐͋̄̂̃̿͆̚͝ ̶͉͋͂̓̿͗̊̉d̵̛̲̫̳̻͇̭̻̦̫͎̙͚͈̝̘͍͎̭͍̝͉͎̲̒̒́͂́̿̎͆̄́͑̒̑̇̔̈́̿̆̾̔̎̀͋̿̚͜͝͝į̶̭̱͓͖͔̳̦̙͓̮̞̗̫͉͚̞̳͐̂͒̎͒͆͊̀́̊͜͠ͅè̷̦̻̰̤̹̉̉̈́̄͊̀̏̊͒̾́͊

[taehyung-the-baehyung]

louder

◦ pairing: reader x sub!jackson

◦ rating: m

◦ word count: 2.5k

m a s t e r l i s t

“Fuck, baby,” Jackson moaned into you as he tugged you into his body by your clothes. You were taken aback by his suddenness; the bedroom door had just barely closed and the rest of the boys were still in the house. You shrugged the coat off your body promptly, hardly stopping to ask questions as you leaned into the warmth of your boyfriend’s body. “Watching you fight like that,” he breathed, his lips hovering over yours as he groped at your sides, grabbing every bit of flesh that he could through your clothes. “Might have been the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he growled into your neck as his hands took handfuls of your ass, locking his lips into your sweet spot. You hummed with approval as your hands stroked the hair at the base of his neck, letting his breathing grow heavy against your skin as he pulled you in for more. He loved when you touched the back of his neck like that.

You were a stunt double and combat choreographer and Jackson had been on set to pick you up on the way home. He showed up a little early and figured that instead of waiting around in front of the building, he would come see what you did. He had never actually seen you in action; he only knew that you were good at fighting, and never to steal your phone from you or scare you unexpectedly– two mistakes he had made before. Then, he watched you strut around the studio in a sleek, leather one-piece outfit and order around the actress and cameraman to get the best shot. You had him turned on faster than you could pin a man twice your size to the ground– and seeing you do just that only turned him on all the more.

“Tell me what to do,” he blurted in the midst of his kisses before rolling the t-shirt up, off your body.

You laughed, amused, as you reached for his shirt. “What?” You weren’t the type to lie back and let life fuck you up, but when it was Jackson, well, then it was a different story. You couldn’t scratch or bite, or leave marks– for the sake of Ahgases, he would say. You couldn’t scream or be too loud– the rest of the boys would hear, of course. And you couldn’t come cum until ‘Daddy’ said so– because, well, it was hot, you had no qualms there. Jackson lifted his arms, leaving you to his will. You threw his t-shirt to the ground before finding his lips again.

He had been fantasizing about being pinned under you for a change the entire way home, and he couldn’t stop wondering what it would be like to be ordered around. “Just boss me around, Princess,” he cooed against your ear as his lips travelled down your jawline. “Do whatever you want to me. I’m all yours tonight.” He smirked at how surprised you were, and fair enough. Admittedly, you both had never tried to switch up the power play, but then again, he never thought he was the type to. An experiment now and then couldn’t hurt.

You froze, placing your hands on Jackson’s muscled biceps as you pulled back to see his face. “Really?” You whispered. You were honestly curious what it would be like to be dominant, but you had no clue how to do it. Aside from the fact that you were 100% totally and completely absolutely the sub, you couldn’t even think about how sexy it would actually be to boss him around. It felt like too much talking from your end. Still, somehow the idea seemed exciting.

Jackson nodded eagerly, pushing his sweatpants down his legs. They fell smoothly to the ground, leaving a soft pile of clothes on the hardwood floor of the bedroom. You inhaled deeply, trying to plan in your head, but all the lust and the heat was getting to you, you couldn’t think straight. His member was already so hard, bulging beneath his boxers.

You gulped, trying to prepare yourself before wrapping your hands around the back of Jackson’s neck again, tugging strands of his hair as you crashed your lips with his. His body leaned off the wall as you pulled him towards you, walking backwards, further into the bedroom. Your fingers reached out for the waistband of his underwear before snapping it back against his skin. Jackson gasped before reaching for it himself and pulling it down his legs.

You unhooked your bra and tossed it off to the side of the bedroom before placing your hands on Jackson’s toned chest, wandering the expanse of his body. No scratching, no biting, no yelling, no cumming– those were his rules. Perhaps just a little taste of his own medicine would at least allow you to be as loud as you wanted from now on. You forcefully pushed Jackson back onto the bed and he landed there with a slight bounce and a creak. You bit your lip as the idea of Jackson trying so hard to refrain from touching you. He loved to mark you as his, and he loved to cage your entire body beneath his as he bent you to his will. “Ready?” you smirked, eyes hooding over as you toyed with the idea in your head.

Jackson’s eyes widened, but all he did was swallow and nod. Satisfied with his response, you yanked your own jeans and underwear down, only the light clang of the button hitting the floor to interrupt the sound of your heavy breaths.

You swore you had never seen anything hotter than Jackson fucking Wang lying there in his bed, waiting for you to do whatever you wanted on him, to instruct him, to order him around, to punish him. Suddenly, you understood the appeal of being a dominant. You couldn’t get too cocky, though. Or could you? So many useless questions slung through your head, and Jackson was just waiting there.

“Babe...” He couldn’t stop staring at you, but God you hadn’t even done anything and he wanted to touch you. His voice shook with uncertainty.

You silently climbed over his body, careful not to actually touch him anywhere. You hovered over him, only the resonating heat from both your bodies whispering between you. “Oh, Jackson…” you cooed, sliding one hand into his hair and raking it back through his hair, your nails scratching at his scalp. Jackson’s lips fell parted as a light gasp escaped through. He loved when you did that. “My handsome, sexy boyfriend…” He smiled weakly. “You’re always telling me not to make any sound so the boys won’t hear,” you frowned. “But baby, I like when we’re loud.”

“I-I didn’t kno–” he started.

“It’s okay, though,” you grinned as your hand continued to sweep over his chest and down his abdomen. You shuffled down his body, resting just below his hard member. “Because I’m not letting you get off easy, baby.” You grabbed Jackson’s cock.

Your cold hand made instant contact with his warmth, releasing a throaty groan from Jackson. “Ah, fuck–” He propped himself up on his elbows, watching with a half open mouth as you started to work your fist up and down. The sounds of his moans were always enough to made you combust; you loved to hear him, his deep, raspy voice. It always grew just a bit growlier when he was turned on, and you always grew weaker for him. Your stomach pinched with heat as he let out another groan, his hands gripping the sheets on either side of him. It made you whimper and roll your hips by instinct.

“Oh, good boy,” you breathed, twisting your hand as it reached his base, dragging another long moan from Jackson. It was music to your ears.

Jackson’s lower lip disappeared between his teeth as he strained to keep quiet. You leaned forward to glide your tongue over his slit, sweeping off the cum. Jackson’s body jerked slightly beneath you as you connected your mouth to his cock.

“Jackson,” your voice was washed with a tone of warning. “I’m going to need you to be louder for me, baby.”

Jackson curled his fingers into a fist, sinking his nails into his palms, just as you had done so many times before to keep from scratching him. “Babe, come on, they’re right outside,” he grunted, his voice strained.

Without warning you removed your hand and bobbed your head down, easily taking him into your throat. Your eyes strung as you dug your nail into the space between your thumb and index finger, holding back your gag reflex. The animal noise that left Jackson’s voice was beyond sinful. Your entire body riled up: hair standing on end, abdomen clenching, heart thudding. Jackson shifted his hips, thrusting upwards just the slightest bit. You slid your mouth back up his length, and hollowed out your cheeks.

“Oh my– ah!” He was louder now, making you moan against his length. You could never get enough of the sound of his voice. The light vibration on his pulsing cock made Jackson fall back, flat on the bed. “Yes, yes,” his abdomen tensed as you worked his length fast, then slow, sucking as you reached his tip. You bobbed your head to an uneven rhythm, teasing Jackson to the edge before slowing down to strain him further. “Baby...oh…” his voice rattled into heavy groans, slipping out of his throat without filter as you moaned in response. His mind went blank as he felt the electric shock of your pleasure zip through his veins. He grunted as your mouth glided up, off his tip, with a ‘pop’ sound. The mixture of cum and saliva stringing off your lips made Jackson mutter profanities under his breath.

“Better,” you smirked, licking your lips thoroughly. Jackson swallowed, his chest rising and falling at a rate that only excited you more. “But I want you louder,” you whispered as you sat back on his legs. Jackson’s eyes widened as you swiped two fingers up your folds. “Look how wet you’ve made me, babe,” you placed your fingers on your tongue and striped over the creamy substance on your fingers, letting the bittersweet taste scatter over your tastebuds.

“Ah,” Jackson’s words caught in his throat, and you could almost see his mouth visibly water. His hands were still clenched in fists and for a second you were worried his palms would be bruised with little half moons. You climbed back up his body, reaching out to place a hand on one of his softly. He relaxed instantly, his fingers uncurling. You took his hands and placed them on your hips, looking straight into his eyes with a knowing smile. “I want to cum inside you,” he nearly growled the words and you were certain that the boys had heard. The power trip that went off inside you made a part of you want them to know. Your stomach fluttered with dripping arousal at the thought.

You bit back a whimper as you placed your hands on his chest. “Don’t hold back, babe, okay?” Jackson nodded as you sunk onto his cock with ease. A long breathy moan dropped from your lips as he filled you perfectly, pulsing against your walls.

“Oh yeah,” he grunted loudly, his fingers tightening around your sides.

“Mm…that’s good, babe,” you cooed, your eyes slipping shut as you rolled your hips along his length. Jackson’s groaned as you bit your lip and smiled, eyes still closed, head tipping back. You knew it drove him crazy. His breathing grew heavy as you teased him, going fast, then slow.

“How are you this hot?” His voice bounced as you did, shaking to the rhythm of your hips. His soft grunts beneath you sent you into a frenzy. You always loved to hear him, and now he seemed to have officially lost to you. “Ah, ah, baby,” he moaned, almost uncontrollably. “Oh fuck,” he nearly choked on his words and you could see the way his eyebrows knit together so tightly as you rode him. He grew louder as you increased your pace. “Shit, that feels so good,” he tipped his head back into the pillows.

Seriously, you guys? A voice came from the bedroom over, muffled through the walls, but both of you were far past the point of caring.

“You sound so pretty when you moan for me, babe,” you hummed as your hands ran over his heated body, your voice softening into whimpers as he thrust upward.

He reached up with two fingers and began rolling circles onto your clit. “F-fuck,” you stuttered, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten at his motions. Your body started trembling with the overwhelming pleasure he was giving you. Your head was positively swimming. The erratic beats of your heart sent your body into a flush of heat and you weren’t sure if you could hear straight anymore. “Jackson…” your voice was airy as your pace increased.

“Ah– you’re gonna make me cum,” Jackson’s voice scratched the back of his throat, making your walls clench around his hard cock. Your vision started to cloud with white bursts, and tears prickled at the corners of your eyes as you brought your hands closer together on Jackson’s chest, your breasts pressing against each other. “Fuck, oh, you’re so hot, oh my God,” Jackson was beyond lost in his own state as he slurred his words together, cursing loudly as he watched your body move over his. You were slipping over his cock until you reached his tip before slamming right back down, repeatedly pressing him into your g-spot. The sound of your skin slapping against his as he felt your warm cum trickle down over his cock made him lose it. “Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he repeated as he thrust up into you.

“Jackson!”

Your body convulsed forward as your walls clenched around his cock, and you could feel all the cum spread around your inner thighs as your orgasm crashed through your body. The scream ripped through your vocal chords and you were certain that your throat would be sore tomorrow, but right now all you could think about was how deliciously Jackson’s moans were filling your ears. Your walls were still clenching around him as he pumped himself into you faster as he reached his own high. The carnal sound he made when he came inside you soaked you in a hellish bliss that shocked a shiver through your spine. That was all you wanted.

You rose slowly off his body with a moan, your thighs still shaking as you fell into the space next to him. It hadn’t occurred to you that being dominant would be that much fun, but now that you were open to a whole new world, you couldn’t wait to use it to your advantage. You made a mental note to bring your work outfits home every once in awhile.

Jackson turned sideways, draping an arm over your torso with a goofy smile on his face. You couldn’t help but laugh at that. He kissed your shoulder before resting his head on his hand, propping himself up by the elbow to look at you.

“What?”

“Do you have any idea how much they’re going to make fun of me tomorrow?”