#thank you for All of your very funny asks and interaction <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[darkthare]

”making my long distance bf into a cookie” meme but it’s Janosh and it’s “carving my long distance bf out of a sausage (he’s in prison for battery)”

Free my man!!

[moonstruckme]

hi, my love! i hope you’re doing okay!

i’d be really interested to see the protectiveness of the marauders and how it plays out in a poly!marauders dynamic. say something happens to r (can be as minor or as severe as you prefer). how would each marauder react and how would their dynamics bounce off each other? would it make the situation better or worse?

I find it funny picturing r attempting to wrangle all three of her boys from throwing hands (especially if it was a mistake or a miscommunication between r and the “offender”) and they’re bouncing off each other and riling themselves up more and she’s just like, ffs I’m so sorry and tries her best to manhandle her three boyfriends away for a stern talking to. Like, thank you guys for protecting me and all that but a) t’was a mistake / miscommunication, and b) i can sort my own shit and will ask if i need back up (Sirius in the back like no need to ask, i’m ready to go bby). Everyone’s like wtf Remus?! because he’s usually the chill one and it’s just a cluserfuck of misplaced angst and fluffy humour.

this might overlap with some other requests you’ve written, so feel free to ignore or tweak as you see fit! no idea if this makes any sense but hope it’s fun to write if you decide to!

Hi lovely! I've done a couple fics with protective marauders before, so I wanted to try something a little different based on your prompt. I had a different vision in my head than how it turned out, but I hope you like it <3

cw: alcohol, sexual assault, violence

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.7k words

You’ve been known to be a…somewhat short-fused drunk. It’s not that you’ll get angry with anyone for anything, only that the sort of behavior that you might normally try to ignore, you…don’t. This is usually the behavior of men. 

It’s one of those nights where the club is made up of about forty percent young girls and sixty percent older, eagle-eyed men. You’re glad for your boyfriends, who ward off the other men like a force field around you. You feel lucky to have it and disgusted to need it. 

James’ laughter is loud and bright as you spin him around after he does you. You echo it, pleased at having inspired such a sound. With his large, sturdy build, it’s rare for James to get very drunk, but he’s about where you are now. Which is to say, you’ve been sloppily dancing and giggling with each other for the last hour. 

Remus rolls his eyes fondly when James nearly spins himself out of balance, steadying him with a hand on his back. 

“I’m gonna go take a piss,” Sirius shouts. 

James laughs again, planting a wet kiss on his cheek. “Classy, babe.” 

“Bugger off.” Sirius shoves him playfully into Remus’ chest. 

You dance with them both for a minute longer before leaning in to shout, “Okay if I go get more drinks?” 

Remus eyes you both for a second, but nods. “Alright. I’ll come with you.” 

“No, stay.” You set a hand on his chest. “Don’t let Jamie dance alone. I’ll be right back, yeah?” 

You don’t give him a chance to respond as you head for the bar. It’s crowded, but you’re not about to worm between some middle-aged men to get to the front. You stand up on your toes and wait to catch the bartender’s eye. 

“What’s your name?” Suddenly there’s a warm body pressed up behind yours, hands on your hips. 

Your blood, already warmed by alcohol, turns hot in an instant. You step forward, too quick for the man behind you to follow. Turn to look him in the eyes. 

“Don’t touch me,” you say firmly. 

“Okay.” The man raises his eyebrows at you. He looks nearly old enough to be your father—certainly old enough to be someone’s father—with waxy skin and thinning hair combed over the front of his head. He’s in a suit like he came here from work. “Sorry, relax. I just think you’re beautiful.” 

“I’m here with someone.” Someones, you could say, but you’ve learned it’s easier in some situations to make it sound like you only have one partner, for brevity’s sake. And there’s nothing you desire more than for this interaction to be brief. 

He gives a little laugh. “Don’t take things so seriously, I’m only complimenting you. Do you like to dance?” 

You give him a hard look. “Only with my boyfriend.” 

“You look like you dance.” His eyes skim down your frame, raptorial. “I can tell. You have the body for it.” 

No sooner does his large, meaty hand connect with your ass than you’re grabbing it by the wrist, your free hand balling and aiming for his face. 

His surprised grunt comes in sync with a “Woah!” from behind you. 

You turn to find Remus and James, looking like they’ve just broken through the crowd. James is staring at you with wide eyes. One of the men near you at the bar sets a hand on your shoulder, pulling you away from the creep and forcing you to drop his wrist, but Remus is there in an instant. 

“Oi.” He grabs you, removing the man���s hand and caging you in his arms. “She’s fine.” 

“She hit him!” the man accuses. The guy from before is leaning forward with a hand pressed over his face. 

James is incredulous. “Did you see what he did to her?” 

The other man looks between you like he’s realized he’s missing something, and Remus takes a couple of steps back from the crowd with you in his arms. Meanwhile, your attacker seems to be recovering from his shock. He lowers his hand to reveal a discolored mark on his jaw, gaping at you. 

“You fucking cunt!” 

James gives him a hard shove, and more shouting starts up around the bar, various other patrons either cheering the fight on or trying to break it up. Remus grabs James by his shirt, tugging him along as he herds you towards the exit. “Alright, we’re going, we’re going.” 

Your journey out of the building is hurried and difficult to follow in your addled state, but everything seems to catch up to you when the dark club gives way to glaring fluorescent streetlights. You bend over under a wave of nausea. 

“Hey.” James sounds more sober than he had a few minutes ago. He stoops to look at you, your eyes wet. “You okay?” 

Remus says something to him quietly, passing James the car keys. He unwinds his arm from around you and kisses your head. 

“I’ll be right back,” he says gently. “Go wait in the car, okay?” 

“Okay…” Your voice is hardly a whimper. “Where are you going?” 

But Remus is already gone, waving down the bouncer outside of the club. 

You turn to James. “Where is he going?” 

Tears blink out of your eyes as you ask. The corners of James’ mouth turn down sympathetically. 

“Oh, my girl.” He wraps a big arm around your shoulders, kissing your head as he leads you towards the car. “What’s wrong? Does your hand hurt?” 

You shake your head, though it does a little. Your knuckles and the tops of your fingers feel odd and sore, and there’s a throbbing that goes all the way down to your wrist. That’s not what’s bothering you, though. You’re not sure if you can pick what’s bothering you. The predatory stares you’ve endured all night; the sickening realization of the man’s body pressed up against yours; his easy, blithe laughter; your own white-hot anger, there and gone before you could take account of yourself—it’s all too much. 

“I can’t believe I hit him,” you admit tearfully. 

James lets out a little laugh. “I saw, baby.” He unlocks the car, opening the back door. 

“I didn’t mean to.” 

“I—oh, okay.” James doesn’t stop you when you don’t get in, instead sitting on the floor of the car with your feet on the gravel parking lot. He sits beside you. “It’s okay if you did. He deserved it.” 

You put your head in your hands. “I don’t hit people.” 

He makes a soft sound. A big hand lands between your shoulder blades, rubbing softly. “I know you don’t, sweetheart. It’s…I get that you wouldn’t usually, but I think this counts as a special circumstance. Rem, he saw what was happening, but we couldn’t get to you fast enough. I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself, you know?” 

You don’t reply, and he lets you sit in silence for a while, your weeping gradually stopping. When Remus comes back, it’s with Sirius in tow. 

“What the fuck happened?” Sirius asks tipsily. “I was looking for you!” 

“Did Remus not tell you?” James sounds excited to be the one to share the news. 

“Alright, dove?” Remus asks at a more reasonable volume, crouching in front of you. “Does your hand hurt? Can I see?” 

“No, he’s being bloody tight-lipped.” Sirius ruffles Remus’ hair. “Just said you had to go. Oi, you alright, lovely?” 

“She punched a guy in the face,” James says proudly. 

“She what?” Sirius’ mouth pops open. You shrink some under his gaze. “Baby, you what?” 

“I didn’t mean to!” you insist, though it’s hard to stay miserable when two of your boyfriends look so obviously delighted. 

Sirius shakes his head, awestruck. “What did I miss?” 

James fills him in quickly while Remus prods at your hand, eventually commending you on a rather clean hit after he’s certain you didn’t break anything. Sirius can hardly keep his mouth shut while James talks, nor can James keep from using a series of vulgar names for the man who’d touched you, though he checks on you a couple of times to be sure his storytelling isn’t upsetting you. When he’s done, Sirius’ stare has darkened, his arms crossing as he leans against the side of the car. 

“Do we think he could perhaps use a matching bruise on the other side?” he muses, gaze flicking to the entrance of the club. “Maybe one of you could point him out to me.” 

“You’ll get to see him soon,” says Remus. You look at him questioningly, but he only gives you a small smile. Cryptic.

“Really, she’s already handled it rather well herself.” James slides his arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your head. “You should have seen it, I had no idea she could punch like that.” 

“Me neither,” you sigh. 

Just then, the door to the club bangs open. Two bouncers come out in their uniform black tees, hauling between them another man. 

“Alright, alright, leave off!” The creep from earlier struggles in their grasp. All three of your boyfriends tense. As he comes through the doorway, his discolored jaw catches the light. 

Sirius whistles. “Shit. That is bloody gorgeous.” 

You feel the beginnings of a smile tugging at your lips, but try to remain contrite. You catch Remus’ eye. 

“It was rather impressive,” he says, also smiling. 

You chew your lip. “You don’t think it was wrong?” 

“What’s wrong about it?” Sirius asks. “He touched you, you touched him. I’d have done the same if I were there.” 

Remus rolls his eyes. “We know, love.” 

“I’m just saying, I could make it symmetrical…” 

“No,” Remus says sternly. He helps you up, ushering you into the backseat. “It’s time to go home.” 

James buckles in beside you while Remus gets into the driver’s seat. Sirius lingers outside the car. 

“He’s not gotten far yet, are we sure…” 

“Aw, baby, does your hand hurt?” James asks loudly. 

Sirius turns, crawling in to get a look. “Shit, did you bruise something? How’d you make a fist? Show me.” 

James reaches across him to shut the door, and Remus drives away.

[hard-core-super-star]

brought you together so nice [W.Maximoff + N.Romanoff]

pairing: dom!natasha romanoff x sub!reader x switch!wanda maximoff

summary: natasha takes care of you until wanda comes back. needless to say, the witch is more than happy about the arrangement you both came up with in her absence.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> porn with very little plot but even more feelings; mommy + daddy kink; slightly more established dom/dub dynamics; a dash of pet play (as usual); bondage; gagging; soft domme nat + bratty wanda!!!!; vibrator use [R receiving]; praise + degradation + a dash of humiliation; hair pulling; spanking; aftercare

wordcount: 4.1k

a/n: well, well, well...guess who got too attached to another series? yup, me 😅 these two have taken up more of my mind than i originally thought so here is part three of this little series. i don't have a plan to make another full part, but i might mess around and write a few blurbs here and there. we'll see what happens. anyway, thank you for all your support, especially regarding this little series. i'm thinking of opening my requests back up until the start of the new year so keep an eye out for that ;) [commissions are still more than welcome, though!] okay, i'll stop rambling for now, hope you enjoy <3

[part one | part two]

* * * * * * *

Natasha could be sweet when she wanted to.

That was the first thing you learned after agreeing to become her and Wanda's submissive. 

The rules and details weren't too clear yet, the redhead promising to answer all your questions as soon as the Sokovian came back from her mission. Still, she did what she could to fill in the gaps of your knowledge, allowing you to ask her as many questions as you pleased before showing you, in great detail, what she meant.

Despite the cold exterior you'd learned to love, she was much softer with you than you'd ever imagined. Sure, she was still a mean domme at heart, but she wanted to show you heights of pleasure you'd never experienced before.

And she went to great lengths to guarantee it.

It quickly became clear to you how much she loved impact play. Even outside of play sessions, she would always come up behind you, landing a hard smack to your ass before pulling you into her arms. You didn't mind, even when she did it in front of the others.

(Although Tony did whistle at you guys once and promptly earned himself a punch to the stomach. He laughed it off but made sure to never tease the Widow about her behavior with you again.)

You knew there were a lot of things you didn't know or fully understand, but Natasha always seemed to find a way to make you feel more excited than nervous about it. It was almost funny how quickly her personality changed once she allowed you to see past her walls.

Sure, she was still a little mean and more than a little snarky (which is exactly how you liked her, if you were being honest) yet there was a softer, affectionate, side that started coming out more and more.

She told you it was simply because Wanda wasn't around and she wasn't allowed to "break you in" without her around. Maybe it was a silly excuse perfectly crafted to keep you on your toes, but you didn't really mind.

Well, except because you really missed Wanda.

Being without the witch was harder than you thought it would be, but the Widow kept you busy enough to forget the empty spot beside you in their bed.

Your bed.

That was the second thing Natasha made you learn. 

Yes, you were technically an addition to their relationship, but you weren't an outsider. You never were.

That was the third thing you learned.

Both Natasha and Wanda had their eyes on you from the very beginning. They loved each other, and their relationship made them happier than they could put into words, and yet they always felt something was missing. A third energy to keep them in check. To stop them from getting too rough, too mean with each other. To help remember how to be soft after spending so much time fighting with the world.

It was...strange, but you couldn't deny what they meant to you. The attraction you felt toward them had always been there and after Wanda opened that door...well, let's just say there was no going back.

You didn't understand how real that was until now.

Because somehow, someway, after carrying guilt you didn't even need to have in the first place, you were here.

You were theirs.

You were waking up in their bed with Natasha's arms wrapped tight around your waist.

A shudder ran down your body as the redhead's lips met your bare shoulder, peppering kisses across the skin. "Morning, detka. Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you reply as a smile forms on your face. "You're a fantastic cuddler."

"Shut up," she mumbles. There's a clear lack of annoyance in her words despite her attempts at sounding tough. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your grip on me begs to differ."

At your response, her hands move to grip your waist, her nails digging into your soft skin. The sensation makes you gasp, your back arching almost instantly. You can feel the redhead smiling against your skin. It hasn't been that long and she already knows your body better than you do.

"Sorry, were you saying something?" She says, taking advantage of your reactions to grind against your ass. "You seem a little distracted."

 It's a bit of a cruel game but it's one she loves to play with you. Truth be told, she loves playing with you, period. You're so different from Wanda, so much more responsive, more honest about your constant neediness.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you mumble, not so subtly grinding back against her.

Just because you were slowly learning the rules regarding your place didn't mean you didn't love pushing Natasha's buttons whenever you could. Which really only happened in the mornings and during aftercare. Those were the only two moments when the older woman allowed herself to be soft with you, to let you see behind the walls she'd expertly put up to keep everyone out. Everyone except you and Wanda, it seems.

Her voice remains low, straddling the border between a tease and a warning. "Is my good girl trying to be a brat?"

Your heart skips a beat at her words. At the mention of being her good girl. Of being hers.

After the rough beginning your relationship had, you never thought you'd be let into her heart in any way. And yet here you are. You're her good girl, her kitten, her darling submissive.

"No..." You trail off, trying to decide whether to behave or push her buttons a little more. Ultimately, your desire to be a little shit wins out. "...Daddy."

Natasha chuckles behind you, her hands moving from your hips and toward your breasts. She gives them a soft squeeze as her thumbs tease your hardening nipples. "Oh, kotenok, you woke up cheeky this morning, huh? You know what mouthing off like that will earn you, right?"

You do know. She's told you many, many times before, usually while she's praising you for being so good for her and drawing out orgasm after orgasm from your overstimulated body.

However, she's never actually acted out any of her warnings. It's a good thing, you know that, and yet you can't stop yourself from wanting to see what it will feel like. To explore what that kind of submission will do to you.

"Yes, Daddy. I know."

She hums before going right back to kissing across your shoulders, nipping at your skin just to get you to arch into her teasing hands. "I see...you want to be punished, don't you? Want Daddy to remind you of your place until there's nothing else inside your mind?"

You're about to reply when you're interrupted by F.R.I.D.A.Y. "Miss Romanoff, Miss Maximoff has asked me to notify you of her return."

Your cheeks flush, even though the disembodied voice can't see what exactly you're up to this morning. At the very least, F.R.I.D.A.Y. is a lot less nosy than Jarvis ever was. Although, if you're being honest, you liked him better before he turned into a robot.

"I'm assuming she'll be at the Medbay for a while?" The Widow replies, her mind no doubt full of the things she'll do to you to pass the time.

"Yes, it seems she'll be there for the next half hour."

"Good. Thank you, Friday."

The AI doesn't reply and you can practically imagine her making a swift exit out of the room, leaving you to face whatever it is that the redhead has come up with.

"y/n..." Natasha purrs, her breath hot against your ear. "I have an idea. Why don't we give Mommy a nice surprise, hmm? Don't you want to be her pretty welcome back gift?"

You're not sure what being Wanda's "welcome back gift" will entail, but you can't deny your curiosity about it. Especially since the witch has no idea what you and her girlfriend have been up to. You have no doubt she has her suspicions, she is a mind reader after all, but it'll still be nice to surprise her.

You agree before you even know what you're doing, and Natasha wastes no time in springing into action.

In a matter of minutes, you go from lying comfortably under the covers to being spread out on your back, your limbs tied to each corner of the bed. You're exposed, vulnerable, and you love every second of it.

Of course, Natasha isn't satisfied with that. No, to top off the pretty sight you make, she places a deep, dark red ball gag between your lips. You shouldn't be surprised since, after all, you did ask for it.

"There we go," the redhead hums appreciatively, her eyes taking in the beautiful sight. "Now, just sit tight, okay, detka? I'll be right back."

You whine instantly, but she pays no mind to you, quickly making her way out of the bedroom and going to look for Wanda. You're not exactly happy about being left alone yet, there's nothing you can do. All you can do is throw your head back in frustration and wait for your lovers to return.

You're not sure how much time goes by, although there's no doubt in your mind that Natasha does her best to draw out their return just to mess with you, but eventually, they make their way back to you.

The sound of the door opening makes you practically vibrate with excitement, your hips wiggling from side to side without thinking.

"Well, would you look at that," Wanda says as she steps further into the room. "Looks like someone was having fun without me."

Natasha follows her in, standing behind her and wrapping her arms around her waist. There's something so domestic about the action that makes your heart clench.

"I had to get her ready for you, darling," the redhead replies as her chin finds the other woman's shoulder. "She looks good, doesn't she?"

"She sure does. I take it you worked out your issues?"

"We came to an...agreement, yes. I couldn't let you have all the fun."

Wanda chuckles, the corners of her mouth quirking up into a fond smile. There's no mistaking the fire in her eyes, though, the desire simmering below the surface. "And you said I was crazy for wanting her to join us."

The Widow grumbles, clearly not quite ready to admit her girlfriend was right. "You're still not off the hook, you let her believe you cheated on me."

"When are you going to let that go?"

"I'm not sure, maybe you should make it up to me."

Natasha's eyes remain on you but Wanda turns around, silencing her girlfriend's complaints with a fiery kiss. All you can do is watch, feeling left out and far too involved at the same time. You're slowly getting used to their competitive antics.

Their kisses turn desperate in nothing short of a few seconds, leaving you far too desperate and needy while you squirm around on the bed. They take their sweet time getting back to you, though, instead letting their hands wander over each other's bodies.

You'd love to complain but you're still gagged so talking is pretty much impossible. More than that...you can't say you're not loving the view. It makes you feel a little dirty, like you're watching an intimate scene you shouldn't be, and it brings a rush unlike anything you've ever felt before.

They know, because of course they know, and your obvious arousal only motivates them to tease you.

Natasha moves first, expert hands reaching for the hem of Wanda's shirt and lifting it over her head in an instant. "I missed you."

"Are you talking to me or my boobs?" The witch replies with a perfectly raised eyebrow.

"I'm talking to all of you."

"Nice save, 'Tasha."

"Shut up."

There's something comforting about the scene in front of you, even as your frustration builds. You've been with them before, but it's different this time. You can feel the change in energy, the easy chemistry that flows between all of you now that Natasha isn't trying to push you away.

"Come on, I think we've teased our good girl long enough," Wanda says, taking the redhead's hand and leading her toward the bed. "Isn't that right, sweetheart? You're feeling a little frustrated, hmm?"

You nod desperately in response, tugging at the rope that holds you down. Your actions only make both of your lovers chuckle.

"Look at her, she's drenched and we haven't gotten started yet," Natasha comments, her eyes trailing up and down your body like a predator assessing its prey.

"I'm guessing this means training's going well."

"She's a quick learner. A bit bratty sometimes, though."

The way they talk about you as if you're not a part of the conversation has you clenching around pure air. It doesn't help that the Widow is so accurate in her assessment of you. You love being submissive, being under their control, but you can't deny how much fun it is to disobey. To push against the boundaries she's set for you, not to defy her but to tease her. Maybe even test her a little.

It's far too fun.

"Is that right, sweetheart?" Wanda asks, even though your body language makes it clear how correct Natasha is. "I thought you liked being our good girl. Because if you don't, well...you know what happens to naughty girls, don't you?"

Of course you know. It was one of the first things the redhead taught you. Sure, the rules and terms weren't too fleshed out yet since Natasha had wanted her girlfriend to be a part of the whole exchange, but she'd gone over most things with you. Rewards, punishments, hard limits, all that stuff.

You're unable to tell the witch that, though, thanks to the gag in your mouth. Your incoherent mumbles seem to entertain her for a few seconds while Natasha sneaks off toward their closet.

Wanda's chuckle cuts through the air. Your attempts at convincing her you've been good clearly amuse her. "I know, baby, I know you like being good. Otherwise, Nat wouldn't be so attached to you."

"I'm not attached," the redhead grumbles.

A month ago, her words would have made your heart drop into your stomach. Now, though, you know she's only playing a part. She has no problem telling you how she feels outside of a scene, but when you're playing, when you're being their pet, she's right back to being mean. Right back to degrading you and humiliating you until you're riding the edge of pleasure and pain.

"Keep telling yourself that, darling."

"Oh, I will."

Their banter is borderline comforting. You've loved spending time with Natasha, but this, being with them and seeing their personalities come together, this is where you thrive.

Well, it's not like you're doing much. Then again, they like you most when you're like this. Vulnerable, at their mercy, and so obviously loving every second of it.

Wanda climbs onto bed with you, crawling over your body until she's hovering over you with a gentle smile that steals all your worries away. "'Tasha's such a liar, isn't she, sweetheart? It's okay, let her act like she's the big bad."

You want to laugh, but it's a little hard when she's leaning down to pepper kisses all over your face. The action is far softer than what you were expecting and it makes your heart soar.

You were ready for a rougher training session, for a trial run meant to show you what you had been missing in the witch's absence. But this? This is really good too.

Wanda continues her loving assault on your skin, trailing kisses down your jaw and toward your neck. You tilt your head back in response, earning a soft giggle muffled against your skin, as she kisses and nibbles all up and down your throat. There's no doubt in your mind that she's littering your skin with hickies and noticeable marks, but you find you really don't mind it.

The witch steals your attention long enough for Natasha to gather a few supplies before making her way over to you. You feel her set a few things down next to you, but you don't get to see what they are. Not that you really mind considering how busy your mind is.

"Stop hogging her attention, that's not very fair."

"It's not my fault you left her so fuzzy-headed. Poor girl didn't even stand a chance, huh?"

You shake your head, a few muffled whines making their way out of you.

Natasha chuckles as she shifts onto her knees next to you. Her hands find their way between you and Wanda's bodies, teasing your skin as she explores the territory she's spent the past few days claiming.

"Oh, please. This is nothing. You should've seen the state she was in last night."

The reminder makes you squirm in your restraints, trying to get closer to them to no avail. You know how desperate you look, how absolutely needy you are, but you can't find it in yourself to care. This is what you had been waiting for. To be completely theirs. To surrender to them and accept everything they were willing to give you. Sure, it was intimidating and yet it felt incredibly right.

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" Wanda responds, working her way down your body, expertly avoiding the areas where her girlfriend is touching you.

"You deserve it. Wasn't this your fantasy?"

"Maybe. It was hers first, though. Isn't that right, detka?"

The change in topic makes you blush. It shouldn't be surprising to hear that the witch had already known about your feelings for her but it's still a little embarrassing. At least she seems to enjoy it.

You nod, your movements slightly frantic and no doubt fueled by the feeling of her lips on your flushed skin. She takes her time dragging her lips up and down your inner thighs as Natasha teases your hardening nipples.

"Such a good little slut. I bet you're already so fuzzy. Just want your cunt played with and nothing else." The redhead distracts you with her words, leaving you completely unprepared for Wanda's continued assault.

You don't hear the thrumming sound of the vibrator coming to life, but you sure feel it against your sensitive clit. Your whole body shudders in response as your hips buck in a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sensation.

Your reaction makes the witch laugh and she leans down to press a few more kisses to your thighs. "There you go, that's what I like to see."

Her words feel more like humiliation than praise and yet you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when it feels so good that it borders on painful.

"Excuse you, we were having a little chat." Natasha's tease is coupled with a firm grip in your hair as she tilts your head toward her. "I'll have to train you if you don't fix that attention span, pet."

"Be nice, Nat, it's not her fault she likes me more."

"God, you're such a brat, Maximoff." Her free hand leaves your body to land a sharp smack against Wanda's ass. "I'll put you in your place too, if I have to."

The witch hums in response, very clearly pushing herself back against the redhead's hand. "You know I'd enjoy it."

Natasha spanks her again and the sight has you bucking your hips faster as you search for more pleasure. You let out a string of whines, already feeling yourself on the edge of an orgasm. It's a little embarrassing how quickly you're reaching your limit but in your defense, you've been worked up ever since you woke up. You were bound to lose from the beginning.

"Don't tell me you want to cum already, sweetheart? We've barely gotten started."

You want to defend yourself, but your attempts are instant failures. Natasha seems to get off on how pathetic you sound, though.

"It's alright, kitten, why don't you go ahead and cum for me? Mommy hasn't earned her reward just yet."

Wanda opens her mouth to object but she doesn't get very far since the redhead goes right back to spanking her.

You're not used to seeing the witch in a slightly more submissive position. She always seem to straddle the border between being fully in control and immersed below Natasha's dominance. This change of pace is more than welcome, though.

The vibrator gets pushed harder against your sensitive clit and the pressure sends you over the edge almost instantly. You don't get a chance to warn them, all you can do is give in to the sudden pleasure as your body trembles beneath them.

They're both distracted by the sight of your orgasm crashing into you so suddenly. So beautifully.

"What a good girl," Natasha murmurs appreciatively. "You could learn a thing or two from her, Wands."

"Whatever." You miss the way the witch rolls her eyes since your eyes are more than a little blurry and there's a soft ringing in your ears. "It won't be my fault when she forgets her place, Daddy."

That earns her another spank, but she's too busy moving the vibrator away from your drenched cunt to care. You whine softly at the loss of contact even though you feel far too sensitive to take much more.

Apparently, you look as out of it as you feel because the older women take a few moments to let you catch your breath.

Wanda's hands gently stroke up and down your legs to keep you grounded while Natasha shifts closer, her hands reaching out to undo the ballgag. "How are you feeling, kotenok? Do you want to keep going?"

Your throat's a little dry, but you manage to form a reply. "I'm okay. Just need to catch my breath."

The Widow nods before reaching over to grab the bottled water on the nightstand. She helps you take a few sips of water while Wanda continues to caress your skin, both giving you as much time as you need to recover. It's such a small thing and yet it's a reminder of why you're so attached to them. Why you need them more and more with every day that goes by.

Your relationship with them might have had a bit of a rough start, but you couldn't imagine a better outcome. Couldn't imagine two better people to surrender your heart to.

"Someone's in a romantic mood," Wanda pipes up with a soft smile.

Her words cause an instant response in you and you feel your face grow warmer by the second. "Why are you in my mind right now?"

"Because your thoughts about me are so loud," she replies almost instantly. "Don't look so embarrassed, detka, I think it's cute."

"Shut up," you mumble, momentarily forgetting where you are and what you're in the middle of doing.

Wanda's smile turns slightly dark and her hand comes down against your thigh before you can even think about what you did wrong. "Where'd your manners go, huh?"

The sensation makes you shiver, but Natasha reaches a hand out to stop the witch from smacking your thigh again. "Time out, darling. I don't think we're quite ready to keep going."

You want to argue with her and yet you make no real effort to. As much as you might want to keep going, you can't deny how overwhelming it all was...and how desperate you are for some cuddles.

"Sorry," you mumble.

Wanda instantly shushes you as she uses her magic to undo the restraints keeping you tied down. "Nonsense, you have nothing to apologize for."

The second your limbs are free, Natasha's hands are on you again. This time, though, she merely maneuvers you onto your side so she's able to slide in behind you. The second her arms wrap around your waist, your shoulders let go of the tension they've been holding. 

Wanda wastes no time in joining the two of you, laying down in front of you and reaching up to play with your hair. "Just relax, we have all day to pick up where we left off."

"Don't rush her, little witch."

Natasha's words make you chuckle and you lean forward until you're practically buried in the witch's chest. "I'm okay, guys. I don't break easily."

A beat of silence goes by as they allow you to soak in the afterglow, in the feeling of their embrace.

But the Widow really can't help herself.

"Are you sure? Maybe we should test that out."

Her words are a tease, but none of you can deny your curiosity...or your arousal.

Needless to say, you spend most of the day tangled up in their bed.

Your bed.

With the two women who mean the absolute world to you.

[gguk-n]

Hello!! I was wondering if you could please write a redbull driver with multiple wdc x platonic grid

But the older drivers like max Charles Lewis lando etc get jealous of her constantly being with the younger ones like franco kimi and Ollie all fluff n funny n fans going crazy bout their jealousy

Thank you

Rivals of the Track

{Reader's POV}

It was the Azerbaijan GP, Kevin wouldn't be racing so Ollie had replaced him for the race. He was this tall lanky British teen who rightfully corrected me saying that he was an adult now, he was funny. Ollie was with his best friend Kimi, who had come to support him for the race. I found their friendship endearing and reminded me of my best friend who would try to come to as many races as she could. The other drivers would argue about who my best friend was, but I knew who my best friend was and it was Y/BFF/N.

"Y/N, did you colour your hair?" Kimi asked. "You can tell?" I asked slightly shocked, "I just went for a lighter shade of burgundy than the last time" I elaborated. "Yeah, you look prettier" Ollie chimed. "Thank you. You boys are so sweet, unlike some people I know" I said looking at the other drivers who were stood a few feet away who were very confused when I asked them if anything was different about me. "You're always pretty" Franco added. "Okay, okay, flattery will only get you so far" I laughed. "We're being honest. Having some one as talented and beautiful on the grid that we can learn from is an honour" Kimi said solemnly. "Okay, is there a body you boys wanna hide?" I asked laughing. They laughed back.

"Can you introduce us to Lewis?" Franco whispered while we were stood there waiting for the media interviews. "Sure" I said. "He's so cool and we aren't sure if he'll talk to us" The other two boys added. "Oh, no, my babies, he's a sweetheart. You could just walk up to him and start talking. I was scared of him when I first joined too but we're pretty good friends" I explained. The 3 boys smiled at me, nodding in agreement.

Every time I would be talking to these 3, trying to make them feel at home like all the times the others did, I could feel eyes on me. I wasn't sure why they were all glaring at me.

I was doing my post quali media after qualifying P4. "So, what a race? Are you expecting a win or a podium?" The interviewer asked. "Obviously going to go for the win, podium isn't too far away either, let's see, I have a Ferrari and a McLaren to fight off though" I laughed. "We've seen you hanging around with the younger drivers, do they remind you of your rookie days?" she asked. "Yes, they are so nervous and scared but full of energy. They are fun to hang out with too" I said. "Does this mean you find the older drivers boring?" she prodded. "Never said that" I tsked. "I'm just trying to make them feel at home" I said. "Well, the fans are eating your interactions up. They find it so cute, you're like the mother duck and they are your ducklings" she said. "I wouldn't say that they are wrong" I chuckled. "I interviewed your teammate Max a while back and he didn't seem too pleased with your blossoming friendship. Why is that so?" the interviewer pointed out. "We're all competitive. I guess they are competitive about friends too" I shrugged. "It was nice talking to you, can't wait to watch you on the podium" she stated. I smiled and talked away.

I met the others in my drivers room. "I think this is a confidentiality breech to have all the other teams here" I laughed. "We're staging an intervention" Max stated. "For what? I don't have an addiction" I pointed out. "Since we're losing our bestie" Lando said. I couldn't help but laugh, "Who?" I asked. "You, you dumbass" Charles said. I sat on the chair that was unoccupied. "What's up my fellow drivers?" I asked. "We aren't only your fellow drivers, we're best friends" Lewis said. "Arguable but okay" I shrugged. "Are we not best friends?" Daniel fake cried. "My best friend is Y/BFF/n. You guys, I tolerate at best" I laughed. I could see all them visibly pout. "We don't like it" they said in unison. "What do you not like?" I asked. "You hanging out with the younger drivers or that we aren't best friends. Are we too old for you?" Carlos asked. "I'm as old as you guys. They just remind me of my siblings, they are like my ducklings and I'm their mother duck" I chuckled reminded of the analogy. "So, you aren't replacing us?" Oscar quipped. "Obviously not, they are my children. You guys are my friends" I said face palming myself. "Group hug?" Yuki asked and then we all huddled together. "What about us being best friends?" Max asked. "Still Y/BFF/N. I don't feel like a girl when I'm around you guys, she reminds me. We all have something special, we're competitors and friends" I said. They all seemed to nod in agreement.

After an abysmal race, I was laying in my hotel room going through twitter when I saw people talking about how I had taken the younger drivers under my wing and how they would follow me around like lost puppies while you could see the others stare daggers at them. At some point in the weekend, Max did almost carry me away from them, out of jealousy it seems and the gif was circulating all over the internet. I laughed at the tweets, my friends can get jealous, they would be jealous when I hang out with Y/BFF/N but I do need a get away from all the testosterone, but they are nice people, just bad at communicating.

[endearng]

Special Guest

Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: Olivia's birthday is coming up. She has a special guest in mind. WC: 1.7k Warnings: mentions of absent fathers (sorry); reader is borderline paranoid about letting her kid down; they are pining hard - Spencer looks at reader not so respectfully. Please, let me know if I missed anything. A/N: I try my best to not describe the reader so that everyone feels included, but I feel like I should work better on that. If you have any advice on it, I'd be very thankful to hear it! Second fic in less than 24h, ohmy. This is a second part to 'Stranger danger' Feedbacks are highly welcomed and appreciated. <3 neighbor!au masterlist | main masterlist

A few weeks had passed after the incident with the power in your building. Since then, you saw Spencer sometimes and he always greeted you politely. Olivia once told you that she liked him so much because he was a nice ghost — he told her stories about the books he read and she absolutely loved them, going to the point of asking if she could borrow them once he had finished reading.

Little did she know, she would never have to wait long.

Their interactions always made you speechless. How was your 5-year-old daughter better than you at starting conversations? You could barely look him in the eye, despite the fact that he always made sure to flash you the brightest smiles. You reciprocated, but then Olivia always had something to say: about his funny clothes, about the book she was reading for school, about your moments together — you had a scheduled commitment every Friday, to take Olivia to wherever she wanted to go. She was very observant, and, just like you, had the habit of taking mental notes of the beautiful places you saw during your walks. That's how she knew where the public library was and knew the best coffee in town — she demanded having the same beverage as you, but you told the barista secretly to make it decaf.

As you both put on your shoes in the morning to leave the apartment, you said, "Oli, your birthday is coming up. Do you want to do anything with mommy?"

"I want a birthday party."

That made you freeze in your tracks for a moment. You've been avoiding throwing birthday parties for two years now, because Olivia's day always ended with a tinge of heartbreak by the absence of her father, who had decided to leave the both of you and move overseas to, maybe, start over. It hurt you to try to comfort her with something you didn't have control of, but you did it anyway because you'd rather hurt yourself than let your baby go through that kind of disappointment alone. You didn't really know what he was up to, and honestly, you didn't want to, either. You were doing just fine without him, but she was his daughter and still a child, so you knew she still missed him.

Your hands were shaking slightly as you tied her shoelaces. "Bunny ears, remember?" You asked softly, showing her how to do it: you always did it in the mornings, but you made sure to teach her in case they undid during her day at school. She nodded at you, flashing a little toothless smile. "Okay, baby, we'll do that," you smiled, trying to ease off the tension.

"I want invitation cards. Like the ones you had!" She said, excitedly. You huffed out a laugh, endeared by the fact that she remembered all the papers you showed her with photos and other memories of your childhood.

"No problem, baby," you said, getting up, smoothing your pencil skirt and opening the door. She went to the hall to press the elevator button, "we can do it." You said, more to yourself than to her.

Two weeks passed and you had everything ready for Olivia's birthday with the help of your closests friends, Victoria and Jude. You were planning on throwing her party at your parents' house, which had a big, beautiful yard with space enough for the kids to play all they wanted. You had ordered Olivia's favorite cake, red velvet, and a lot of other treats that you knew she loved.

"You know she'll be drunk on sugar, right?" Victoria asked, laughing. She remembered the last time she took Olivia to the movies and she was electric during the way back.

"It's her birthday, once a year won't kill her. Maybe it'll kill me, but eh, what's the matter?" You joked lightly and your friends laughed.

Jude had a checklist in her hands. "Okay, let's go over this so we can go back to our yearly drinking like there's no tomorrow date. We have the place, the food, the decoration... oh, no. Where are the invitations?"

"Oh, I got it. They're in my room. I had to put it away because Oli wanted to read them over and over again."

They nodded as you left your living room, walking down the hall so you could get said invitations. You felt dread creeping up on you when you couldn't find them in the top drawer of your bedside table. "I can't find them!" You yelled loud enough for the women to hear you.

"Are you sure you placed them here?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Not sure what happened, though." You murmured, already feeling a little disappointed. "I gotta look for it now. She drew it herself and I took a lot of copies. I can't possibly tell her I lost them, she would be heartbroken." You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose.

Victoria approached you to rub your arm, trying to comfort you. "Hey, we can look for it. We still have time." Jude said, smiling reassuringly.

"I know, I just don't wanna be too late." You said, giving them a tight-lipped smile.

So, you started looking for it in every corner of your apartment. You stayed in your bedroom, while Jude and Victoria went to Olivia's. You had cleaned the apartment today, a Saturday, when your daughter somsgimdz went to your parents', so that you'd have free time to spend and catch up with your friends. It was almost sundown, daylight fading softly and the lighting in your room was becoming darker as time went by. Suddenly, you heard your bell. Weird. You weren't expecting anybody.

"I'll get that!" You let your friends know.

Opening the door, you weren't expecting your neighbor. Rephrasing: the neighbor who Olivia adored so much. Spencer. That works, too. He has a name, after all. "Hey, hi!" He greeted you with a grin, looking shy.

"Hey, you!" You greeted him back. "Is everything okay?" You asked, a little unsure.

You took in his appearance. He looked tired, that's for sure, but it didn't stop him from looking like the most gorgeous man in existence. He wore his usual attire, carrying his caramel satchel leather bag. You didn't have an immediate answer, so you gulped when you noticed that you were looking a little longer than what's socially acceptable.

"Yeah, it's fine," he chuckled, unable to hold your stare for a moment longer. He considered, for a moment, that your daughter was the element needed for him to have a little confidence to speak when you were around. Well, shit. "I — um. I think these belong to you. I found it when I opened the door to my apartment." He handed you a bunch of papers. You blushed. You busied yourself so much with admiring him that you failed to notice that he had something in his hands.

He studied you for a moment. You looked beautiful that day. Not that you didn't look beautiful all the times you've seen him, but oh, well. Like the first time you met, you were wearing a dress. It was blue and it stopped mid-thigh. He had to stop himself from gulping at the sight of your bare, plush legs. It was different from what he was used to seeing you wear on working days, during the eventual elevator meetings. The dress hugged your curves beautifully, there was no question, like it had been made just for you. Your hair was loose and it fell over your shoulders. When you first answered the door, you had a worried frown on your face, but it quickly disappeared with his words. He felt relieved to see you get rid of your distress.

"Oh, goodness! Sorry about that. I was just looking for these." You gladly took them from his hand and your fingers accidentally brushed his. His hands were warm. "Olivia must have slided them under your door gap," you laughed nervously. You could feel two pairs of eyes looking at the interaction before them. You needed to brace yourself for their questions and very much possible teasing.

"Yeah, yeah. I supposed she did that, too." He laughed, quietly.

You thought for a moment. "You know, you should go. She really likes you. Talks about your conversations all the time and says she misses you when we don't run into you at some point." You revealed. It made Spencer's heart soar in his chest.

"Really?" He couldn't help but smile, even if he couldn't believe it. Not that you were a liar, but that it meant so much to your daughter to talk to him now and then. He felt alive at that moment, felt wanted. “I don’t want to impose.”

"Yeah, I mean, no! No problem, you wouldn’t be. We’d like to have you." You said, smile adorning your face. You took a card from your hands, offering it to him. "With us, I mean. It's going to be at my parents' house, we'll have a bunch of kids running around and cake." You surely looked like an idiot.

We’d like to have you, was all that he could hear.

Did you want him there for him or just because he was kind to your daughter?

Either way, "Thanks. I'll do my best to be there." He said, utterly happy. Saying your name lowly, followed by a 'goodbye', made your heart jump in your chest. You replied with a wave and a small grin. Your cheeks were sore from all the smiling. It was inevitable.

You turned around and had barely closed the door when Jude said, a little louder than her usual tone, "So, I see you found the invitation cards. I hope you gave one for Olivia's birthday party, not for a hot date." She playfully scolded you.

With wide eyes, you banged the door closed and turned around to yell, "Jude! What???"

Little did you know, Spencer heard it all. You know, thin walls, small distance and all. He grinned to himself, face flushed a deep red.

He was definitely looking forward to seeing you. And Olivia, too, of course. It was her birthday, after all.

[hauntedhowlett-writes]

WE’LL BE ALRIGHT

PAIRING: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

WORD COUNT: 5.5k

SUMMARY:

Two truths and a lie:

1. You swiped right on the Tinder profile of JB, 33, only to discover that it was the profile of Bucky Barnes.

2. Bucky Barnes stole your heart then ghosted you all in the span of a single year.

3. You are totally and completely over him.

AUTHOR’S NOTE:

bucky barnes has had me in a chokehold since 2011 and it really took me all this time to write something for him smh. anyway, big thank you to @chaotic-mystery and @dindjarinslegs for letting me scream about this. and i’m coming for bob reynolds next, mark my words.

WARNINGS/TAGS:

fatws!bucky AND thunderbolts!bucky, mild thunderbolts* spoilers, second chance romance, alcohol consumption, mild angst, declarations of love, pet names (doll/sweetheart/baby)

explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact): kissing, dirty talk, nipple play, oral (f receiving), choking, unprotected p in v, multiple positions (missionary/prone bone), cream pie.

LINKS:

main blog | masterlists | ao3

Then

It’s Friday night and you’re on the couch, flicking through Tinder profiles to the soundtrack of a shitty reality show playing on your TV. You’re two glasses of wine deep and you’ve stopped scrutinizing most of the profiles and have settled for swiping right as long as they’re not holding a fish, a flag, or a baby.

You’ve had a shit week and you’re hoping to find someone to help you de-stress. If not, you’ll have to take care of things yourself (again) and while your vibrator is reliable (and doesn’t ask you questions about your investment profile like it’s foreplay), you’re craving something more. The weight of someone on top of you, the feel of them between your thighs, the rush of something new and exhilarating and hopefully satisfying.

The app dings, announcing a match between you and JB, 33. A message comes through shortly after.

JB: Are you okay?

You frown. Weird thing to ask in the first message. Surely it’s better to wait for the third date to ask something so personal.

Yeah, why?, you reply.

JB: Your profile says, “I need to be taken out. On a date or by a sniper.”

Don’t worry, it’s a joke. My therapist didn’t think it was very funny either.

JB: I’m pretty handy with a gun.

You snort.

Is that a euphemism for your dick?

JB: No, actually.

What a shame.

JB: I thought I wasn’t supposed to talk about my dick on here.

You click on JB’s profile and swipe through the pictures. He looks familiar and it takes your wine-addled synapses a few tries to make the connection but when it clicks you realize you’re looking at pictures of Bucky Barnes. As in, Captain America’s best friend, American prisoner of war turned Soviet assassin turned Avenger. You frown. There’s no way the Winter Soldier is on Tinder.

Swiping back to the chat, you begin to type.

You’re right. It’s much safer to talk about your gun.

JB: That sounds like sarcasm.

It definitely wasn’t sincere.

JB: Anyone ever told you that you have a smart mouth?

Anyone ever told you that catfishing people on Tinder with pics of an Avenger is a stupid idea?

At least pick someone who isn’t famous.

JB: Those are my pictures.

JB: And I’m not an Avenger.

Sure they are.

JB: Why would someone lie on their dating profile?

That does sound like something a 100 year old would say.

JB: 106.

You can’t help the laugh that bursts free, the sound bouncing off the walls of your tiny apartment.

If you’re really Bucky Barnes, then prove it.

JB: How?

Send a video of you waving in the mirror.

With the metal arm.

He doesn’t respond and for a while you think it’s because you’ve backed him into a corner. Whoever JB is can’t send you the requested video because he’s not Bucky Barnes and that’s the end of your excitement for the evening.

But then your phone pings with a new message from the app.

A video.

From JB.

You click play and the camera shows a tile floor before panning up to reveal a man’s reflection. His face is hidden by the phone but then he moves it a little to the right to reveal a chiseled jaw covered in stubble and pretty blue eyes, thick brows drawn together in either confusion or concentration.

He lifts a metal arm up in a wave and suddenly you’re desperate for the Earth to swallow you whole (maybe you shouldn’t say that — given the shit you’ve been through as a resident of New York, you can’t rule out the possibility of that actually happening).

You’re really Bucky Barnes, you finally manage to type.

JB: In the flesh. And metal.

So you are good with a gun then.

JB: I am. But I think I’d rather pick the first option.

You bite back a smile.

You want to go on a date?

JB: Isn’t that the whole point of the app?

You’ve got me there.

I’m free tomorrow.

JB: It’s a date.

Bucky asks you to meet him at a nearby bar the following night and you spend the day alternating between feelings of giddy excitement and nauseating anxiety.

You arrive a few minutes early to a quiet bar you never noticed in the years you’ve lived in your shoebox of an apartment a few blocks over. It’s all dark wood and moody lighting with booths along one wall and a stately bar taking up the other. There’s quiet jazz playing through the speakers and the bartender has an impressive handlebar mustache.

You choose one of the empty barstools and the bartender floats by to place a cocktail napkin and menu in front of you. You’re looking over your options when the door opens you look up to see Bucky entering the bar. He’s wearing a t-shirt that stretches across his impressive chest, highlighting his trim waist, a leather jacket and dark jeans that hug his legs.

He smiles when he sees you, a quick flash of teeth before he ducks his head and approaches you, taking a seat on the stool to your left. The bartender returns with another menu and napkin.

“Hey,” you say, voice cracking. Smooth. So smooth.

“Hi,” he replies. “Did you, uh, have any trouble finding the place?”

“No, not really. I’ve never been here, though. It’s nice.”

“Did you order already?”

“I was waiting for you.”

As if summoned by the conversation, the bartender returns to take your orders. Bucky opts for bourbon and you choose one of craft cocktails from the menu because you’re a sucker for a well made drink and Mr. Handlebar Mustache looks like he can deliver.

After one sip to calm your nerves (you were right, the man can make a damn good drink), a second for confidence, and a third for luck, you turn slightly on your stool, knees bumping Bucky’s beneath the bar.

“So,” you say, drawing out the single syllable. “I have to ask. Why are you on Tinder?”

He laughs. “Starting with the hard questions?”

“If you consider that one hard, I have bad news for you.”

“My therapist suggested it,” he admits. “Something about getting out of my comfort zone.”

“Well, they’re right about that. Nothing comfortable about online dating.”

“Right?” He takes a sip of his drink. “I’ve seen…a lot of shit and somehow I’m still surprised by some of the messages I got.”

“What’s the worst one so far?”

“A woman asked if the metal arm vibrates.”

You try not to laugh at the look of utter disappointment that flashes across his face. “Well? Does it?”

“No,” he deadpans. “But it is waterproof.”

“You might call that,” you wiggle your eyebrows, “handy.”

Bucky laughs and you watch him, the way he tips his head back and his shoulders shake with the force of it.

He has a nice laugh.

“That was terrible,” he tells you, but he’s wiping at the corner of his eye.

“Guess I won’t be quitting my day job to pursue my comedy dreams anytime soon.”

The rest of the evening is much the same, easy conversation and even easier laughter from you both. You steer clear of certain topics — superhero activities and pardoned war crimes among them. Your one drink turns into two and then you switch to water because Mr. Handlebar Mustache has a heavy hand and you don’t want to end up drunk enough that what little filter you have disappears entirely.

The bar has gotten a bit busier and you’ve drifted closer into Bucky’s orbit, your legs now tucked between his as you lean in close to be heard over the hum of a dozen conversations. You’ve caught him staring at your mouth with half lidded eyes more than once and it makes warmth pool between your thighs.

“It’s getting a little loud, do you want to head out?” You ask, a hand on his thigh, just above his knee. He nods.

Bucky takes care of the bill despite your objections and follows you out of the bar with a hand low on your back, just barely touching. On the sidewalk, he gently pulls you to the side, out of the way of pedestrians.

“I had a good time,” he says. “Best date I’ve been on since 1943.”

“Oh, yeah?” You step a bit closer, chest to chest. His hand grips your waist. “How did dates used to end back then, old man?”

He rolls his eyes. “Smart mouth. First, I’d walk you back to your apartment. Like a gentleman.”

“Mhm,” you hum. “Then what?”

“Then, you’d give me a kiss on the cheek.”

You tilt your face toward his, pressing your lips to his cheek. “Like that?”

“Just like that. But then, when you’re about to pull away—“ he reaches up, wrapping a hand around the back of your neck, “I’d pull you right back.”

You’re so close that you can feel his breath on your lips. “And then?”

“I’d kiss you.”

“You better start walking me home, Barnes,” you tell him. He smiles.

“Lead the way.”

The walk to your apartment is quiet but the tension between you is damn near corporeal and you’re practically buzzing with anticipation by the time you reach your building.

“This is me,” you tell him as you turn to face him. “I had a great time, too, you know.” You loop your arms over his shoulders. “In fact, I’m not sure I’m ready for it to end.”

“That so?” He asks, boyish smirk tilting the corner of his mouth.

You shrug. “If that doesn’t offend your delicate sensibilities.”

Bucky leans in and your eyes flutter shut just before his lips touch yours. The scent of leather and bourbon wraps around you and the rush of your blood in your ears drowns out the late night noises of the city around you. The kiss is sweet, gentle, until his teeth nip at your bottom lip and you gasp, giving him the opening to make it deeper, hungrier, an edge of desperation in the way his fingers curl against your neck.

He pulls away first, tongue darting across his lips like he’s trying to capture the faint taste of you on them.

“Wow,” you mumble. “That was…do you want to come upstairs?”

“But my delicate sensibilities,” he says, laughing as you smack him on the chest. He kisses you again, though it’s less of a kiss and more the two of you smiling against each other. “I’d like that.”

Bucky carves himself a place in your life.

His toothbrush next to yours on the bathroom counter. The coffee that he likes in your pantry. A book he’s been trying to read for a few weeks on your nightstand. A side of the bed that you consider his.

He brings you flowers from the farmer’s market and your favorite snack from the bodega down the street when he knows you’ve had a rough day. He makes you laugh so hard that your muscles ache with it.

You are so in love that your chest hurts just to look at him.

And then he disappears.

Now

Running into an ex-boyfriend at a coffee shop is already an uncomfortable enough experience. Add to it that your ex-boyfriend is Bucky Barnes, the devastatingly handsome face of the New Avengers, New York’s newest batch of superheroes, and you’ve got a recipe for the most awkward situation imaginable.

He’s waiting by the pick up counter, metal arm covered by his jacket and wearing a hat that you think it meant to act as some sort of disguise though it falls short of being effective, considering he has one of the most recognizable faces in the nation. You shuffle over to the same spot, keeping your head down and attention fixed on your phone, hoping he doesn’t notice you.

Despite the fact that he was there before you, the barista calls out your name first, placing your drink on the counter. Bucky lifts his head and looks around, a furrow between his brows. Then, as if the universe is playing a sick joke, another barista sets a second drink next to yours and calls out, “James!”

He doesn’t immediately reach for his drink and you just know he’s waiting to see if hearing your name called was just a coincidence. So, with a desperation for your caffeine fix and a healthy dose of feminine rage, you square your shoulders and march up to the counter, taking your drink without looking at him.

Bucky steps in front of you just as you’re about to make your escape and you look up into his familiar blue eyes, mouth going dry and stomach plummeting to the ground.

“Hey,” he says. “I thought that might be you.”

“Hi,” you reply tersely. “I knew it was you.”

He flinches slightly. “That’s…that’s fair. Uh, how’ve you been?”

“Pretty good. Well, except for that whole bit with the,” you wiggle your fingers near your head, “weird cinematic loop of traumatic experiences.”

“Right, right. That wasn’t great.”

“I’d ask how you are but I’ve already seen the headlines.”

Bucky sighs, taking off his hat to run a hand through his hair. “Look, I know—“

“Motherfucker,” you whisper, ducking your head down. Bucky frowns.

“What—“

Someone calls your name. Well, okay, not just someone. Your boyfriend, David, enters the coffee shop, walking up to you and wrapping an arm around your waist.

“I thought I was early enough to beat you here but I guess not,” David says, nodding toward the drink in your hand. He glances at Bucky, then does a full on double-take. “Holy shit, you’re Bucky Barnes.” He sticks his hand out toward him. “I’m a big fan.”

And Bucky, asshole that he is, looks you dead in the eye as he shakes David’s hand and says, “Thanks, man.”

“People used to tell me I looked a lot like you,” David continues, digging your grave of embarrassment deeper and deeper. “When you had short hair.”

“Is that so?” Bucky asks. “Yeah, I can see the resemblance.”

Which, okay, you understand how this looks. David does kind of resemble Bucky. He’s got blue eyes and a strong, square jaw and dark hair but it’s not like you went looking for a boyfriend that looked like Bucky.

You just have a type.

Besides, David was shorter than Bucky. There are definitely differences.

“I’m going to grab a drink. It was great to meet you,” David tells Bucky, shaking his hand again. “Be right back,” he says to you, leaning in for a kiss. You turn your head, his lips grazing the corner of your mouth.

“He seems nice,” Bucky says when David has taken his place in line across the room.

“Shut up,” you hiss. “You don’t get to judge.”

“I’m not judging.”

“You’re definitely judging.” You cross your arms. “Don’t you have superhero things to do?”

“I’m on vacation.”

“Nice to hear the New Avengers offer a robust benefits package.”

“You still have a smart mouth,” he comments, voice dropping low. Your brain short circuits and in your moment of weakness he reaches for the phone still in your hand, plucking it from your grasp with ease.

“Hey—“ you start to protest, but he’s handing it back before you can even finish the sentence. The screen is open to his contact information and it looks like he’s updated his number. “What’s this for?”

“If you need me,” he says easily. “I gotta get going. It was good to see you.”

Bucky leaves with the last word. You curse his existence even as you watch his broad shoulders disappear through the door and out into the wave of New York pedestrian traffic. David returns with his drink in hand, looking at you curiously.

“What?” You ask.

“How do you know Bucky Barnes?”

You shift your weight from foot to foot, searching for the right response. “We have…history.”

“History,” David deadpans. “Platonic?”

“Well—“

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he interrupts. “You dated an Avenger?”

“He wasn’t an Avenger at the time!”

“As if that makes this any better!”

“Why is this an issue?” You ask with a groan. “It was two years ago!”

“Are you only dating me because I look like him?”

“What? No!” You lower your voice. “Can we please just talk about this later.”

He seems to realize that you’re both still standing in the middle of a coffee shop, a dozen curious stares turned to you. “Fine,” he acquiesces.

You leave together, shoulders brushing on your walk to the nearby park where you planned to have your coffee that morning before everything was interrupted by a ghost from your past.

Things with David only get worse. He digs for more details about your relationship with Bucky and you snap at him to leave it alone. He grows tired of asking and you grow tired of avoiding until finally, inevitably, you get a phone call from him a week later.

“I can’t keep doing this,” he sighs. “I think we should just call it quits.”

“Fine,” you reply. “I’ll get a box of your stuff together for you to come get.”

“Seriously? That’s it?” He asks. “You’re not even going to ask me why?”

You can’t help but laugh. “Because you’re insecure that I dated Bucky Barnes and won’t go into excruciating detail about my sex life and how you compare to him.”

He sputters indignantly before finally landing on, “You’re such a bitch.”

“Charming,” you reply. “I’ll text you when your shit can get picked up.”

You hang up before he has the chance to respond. Tears of frustration prick at the corners of your eyes. You’re not upset about the relationship ending, not really, you just hate that somehow, Bucky Barnes managed to be the reason.

You call your best friend and she makes the appropriate noises of sympathy, followed by empty threats of bodily harm to David, before suggesting the two of you go out to get your mind off of the breakup.

You probably should have declined the invitation and stayed home because now you’re staring into the mirror of the bar bathroom, clutching the sink like it’ll make the world stop spinning (it doesn’t). Your friend is nowhere to be found and you’re ready to go home but the thought of calling an Uber in this state makes your stomach roll.

You pull up your contacts, finger hovering over Bucky’s name. Before you can change your mind or drop your phone in the sink, you tap the call button.

He picks up on the second ring.

“Barnes,” he says. His voice makes your breath hitch.

“Hey…it’s me,” you reply, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Are you okay?” He asks immediately. You huff a laugh.

“I’m okay. Just…I’m a little drunk and I think my friend left and I could really use a ride but if you’re busy, I could call an Uber!” You’re rambling. Bucky, thankfully, puts you out of your misery.

“Where are you?” You give him the name of the bar. There’s a shuffling noise and then he’s telling you, “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

You wait outside the bar on the sidewalk, arms wrapped around yourself. A blacked out SUV pulls up to the curb and Bucky steps out, turning heads as he rounds the front of the car to the sidewalk and looks around for you.

You take a tentative step forward and his gaze snaps to you, softening from mission mode in a way that makes your head feel fuzzy. He opens the passenger door for you, holds a hand out to help you into the seat, still a gentleman.

Your breath catches when he leans over, tugging the seatbelt across your chest and buckling it into place. He smells the same, you think, like leather and metal and mint. No bourbon, this time.

When you’re buckled, he shuts the door and walks to the other side of the car, sliding into the driver’s seat. You tilt your head back against the headrest, letting your eyes fall shut. It’s good to be sitting.

“You okay?” He asks.

“You already asked me that,” you reply, keeping your eyes closed. He sighs.

“Why didn’t you call Daniel?”

“David,” you correct. “We broke up.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

You turn your head, opening your eyes slightly. “No, you’re not.”

“You’re right, I’m not.”

And that shouldn’t make your heart beat faster, shouldn’t send warmth coursing through you but it does because it’s Bucky. You close your eyes again. This seat is very comfortable.

“You still in the same apartment?” He asks. The question sounds fuzzy.

“No,” you mumble. “Moved.”

“Can you give me the address?”

But you don’t hear that last question because you’re already asleep in the passenger seat.

You wake up in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar (but extremely soft) bed, tucked beneath unfamiliar sheets. Your mouth is dry and your head hurts a little bit but not nearly as much as you deserve given how much you drank. There’s a glass of water on the nightstand and a bottle of Tylenol. You crack the lid and pour out two capsules, throwing them into your mouth and chugging down the water until the glass is empty.

You slowly get up and make your way across the room, checking to see if one of the doors leads to a bathroom. You’re thrilled that you’re right and that there’s even a conveniently placed towel, unopened toothbrush, and new set of clothes waiting for you on the counter. You briefly wonder where the clothes came from but given the opulence of the bathroom you’re standing in, you imagine anything is available at the press of a button.

By the time you’ve finished in the bathroom, you feel about ninety five percent human. The other five percent is the part of you dreading the conversation to come.

Because you know Bucky is somewhere beyond the bedroom door and the thought of seeing him in the light of day, after calling him to come to your rescue, fills you with dread. You give yourself a pep talk in the mirror and lift your chin, ready to face what’s beyond your bubble of safety.

You peek outside the bedroom door and find the hall clear. There’s soft music playing from somewhere further in the apartment and you follow the noise to the kitchen, where you find Bucky at the counter, his back turned to you. He’s in a tank top, which gives you an open view of muscles that you haven’t seen in two years but definitely remember. In vivid detail.

Bucky turns to face you when you’ve stepped into the room. He has two mugs of coffee in his hands and he slides one across the counter separating you. He’s already made it the way you like.

Asshole.

“Morning, doll,” he says.

“You don’t get to call me that.” You take a sip of your perfect coffee.

“You used to like when I called you that.”

“That was before you made me fall in love with you and then you disappeared,” you tell him. “And the next time I saw you was on TV, announcing your run for Congress.”

He at least has the decency to look a little chagrined. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t supposed to be like that.” You raise your eyebrows but say nothing. “I was ready for normal but I keep getting dragged back into fights.”

“Are you dragged or do you answer the call?” You ask. He stays quiet for a minute, thinking, the muscle of his jaw ticking beneath the stubble on his chin.

“Both, probably,” he admits. “I’ve done so much bad that it’s hard to pass on the opportunity to do something good.”

A tiny fracture forms in the wall you’ve built. “If not you, then who, I guess. Right?”

“Yeah,” he sighs. “Something like that.”

Silence settles, thick with what needs to be said and, worse, with what should have been said two years ago. He abandons his mug on the counter, coming around to stand in front of you, close enough to touch. His dog tags hang in the middle of his chest and you reach up to tangle your fingers in the chain, like you used to. He smiles, a tiny, uncertain twitch of his lips.

“I missed you,” he says quietly. “You have no idea how much.”

“You could have called,” you tell him.

“I didn’t know what to say.” His hand catches your. “You loved me?”

“I did,” you admit. “Still do, if we’re having an honesty hour right now.”

Bucky laughs, low and warm. God, you missed him. You didn’t realize the depth of it until he was within your reach.

“I did, too.” He wraps an arm around your waist. “Still do.”

“Yeah?”

He leans in close, lips ghosting across yours. Barely a kiss but every nerve ending lights up at the contact, making you feel like a live wire. He smiles.

“Can I call you doll now?” He asks. You act like you’re considering it, like the answer isn’t an immediate yes.

“Only if you’re going to make it up to me,” you tell him.

“How would you like me to do that?”

“Well, you are really good with your gun—“

Your response is cut off by your yelp when Bucky picks you up, one arm supporting your back and the other under your knees. You laugh as he marches back to the bedroom you woke up in, kicking the door open and tossing you on the mattress. You bounce slightly with the force of your landing.

“Someone’s eager,” you tease, lifting yourself up on your elbows. He smirks, crawling toward you on the mattress.

“You have no idea, doll,” he says, wrapping his metal hand around the back of your neck and pulling you in for a kiss that’s hungry and messy, a borderline desperate creeping in as he settles more of his weight on your body, hips cradled between your own.

His teeth dig into your lower lip, hard enough to make you gasp. He takes the opportunity to kiss your jaw, stubble dragging across your sensitive skin. He drifts lower, down your neck, sucking the skin over your pulse and making you squirm.

“So sensitive,” he teases, his hand working its way beneath your shirt, warm palm sliding up your belly. He pinches a nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, making you whine. “And so needy.”

Bucky pulls away, just enough to get both hands on your shirt to lift it up and over your head. Both hands cup your breasts and you arch into the sensation. You’ve always loved the difference in sensation between his hands, soft flesh and unyielding metal but the same reverent touch. He bends forward to pull one nipple into his mouth, flicking his tongue over it until you’re writhing beneath him.

He drags his mouth lower, down your belly, until he reaches the leggings he left for you. His fingers curl into the elastic, dragging the fabric down your thighs until he can pull them off and toss them to the floor. You’re left in just your underwear and Bucky smiles beatifically at you.

“Already soaked,” he says, settling on his stomach between your thighs. He drags a thumb over your clothed pussy, circling the digit lightly when he reaches your clit. “All for me, huh?”

“Mhm,” you nod.

He kisses the inside of one thigh, then the other, before slipping his fingers beneath the gusset of your underwear and yanking the fabric to the side. He drags his tongue from your entrance to your clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves with broad, flat strokes.

“Bucky,” you moan, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair and pull. He groans, the vibration adding to the delicious torture of his mouth. “Oh, fuck.”

You lose the ability to speak shortly after that as Bucky lavishes you with attention. Two of his metal fingers join his tongue, sliding into your wet heat with ease.

“Christ.” He tilts his head against your thigh to watch you as he pumps his fingers in and out of you with an obscene noise. “Fuck me,” he groans, dragging out the syllables.

“Yes,” you gasp. “Please, Bucky.”

“Not until you come,” he says, curling his fingers and dragging them across that sensitive spot inside of you. “Come on, sweetheart.”

He slips a third finger inside of you and the stretch borders on painful, a slight sting that makes you feel like you’re on fire, ready to burst. When he returns his mouth to your clit, you’re a goner. Your orgasm crashes over you as you moan his name, grinding yourself up against his mouth and down onto his fingers.

Bucky eases you through it, waiting until your hips drop to the mattress before pulling away. The scruffy hair on his chin is shiny with your release, his blue eyes are dark with lust, and his hair is a mess from your hands.

“Open your mouth,” he commands, reaching up to slip his soaked metal fingers past your lips. “Clean ‘em real good, doll.”

You do as he says, keeping your eyes fixed to his. When he’s satisfied, he pulls his hand away and settles it at the base of your throat.

“You missed this, didn’t you?” He asks, squeezing gently. You smile up at him, bringing your hands to his forearm. “Yeah, you did. Bet you thought it about when those other guys fucked you, too.”

He releases your throat and gets off the bed only long enough to shove his pants to the floor. You get a brief moment to stare appreciatively, taking in the chiseled muscles and the old scars that you once had memorized.

“You’re so beautiful, Bucky,” you murmur. His expression goes soft as he crawls back onto the mattress and settles his weight above you, his cock dragging through the wet mess he’s made of your thighs.

He kisses you deeply, thoroughly, like he’s trying to erase any lingering memory of anyone who came after him. His hips flex against yours and you hitch your legs up, changing the angle of your body enough that the head of his cock dips inside of you, just slightly, just enough to make you gasp into his mouth. He pulls back, staring down at you as he sinks deeper, stretching you in the most perfect way.

“That’s it, baby,” he says. “Just like that, huh?”

The only answer you can give is a desperate noise as you wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, his chest against yours. He starts an achingly slow rhythm that has stars bursting in your vision, your belly tensing with the first signs of release.

“You have no idea,” he mumbles against your neck, “how much I’ve missed you.”

“I think I have an idea,” you whisper, bringing a hand to his jaw. “Missed you so much, Buck.”

He bites at your pulse and moves his hips faster, driving you to the brink before pulling out completely. Your responding whine is cut short by his hands gripping your hips, twisting you beneath him until you’re flat on your stomach and he’s sliding back into you, the new angle making you feel impossibly fuller.

His weight settles on your back and he slips his metal hand around your neck, using it to lift your head up from the mattress. He squeezes your throat as he drives into you mercilessly, hips smacking lasciviously against your ass.

“You’re going to come on my cock, sweetheart,” he growls into your ear. “I need it so bad, come on, baby, finish so I can fill you up just the way you like, okay?”

Your second orgasm hits you like a lightning strike and your mouth drops open in a silent scream as your muscles tense and you squeeze around his cock. He moans a broken prayer of your name as his hips stutter in their rhythm and then go still as he comes, warmth pulsing inside of you.

Bucky collapses on the bed, careful not to drop his full weight on you. He gathers you up in his arms, holding you with your head on his chest. You listen to the beat of his heart as it slows from a frantic pulse to a smooth rhythm.

You tilt your head to look at him and he smiles. The whole scene reminds you of your first night together and a bubbly feeling blossoms in your chest.

“This won’t be easy,” he murmurs, bringing a hand to your jaw. His thumb rubs against your cheek. “I’m still fighting.”

“I know,” you reply. “As long as you come back to me after the fight, I think we’ll be alright.”

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed the fic, please consider reblogging or commenting — I love hearing from you!

[prettydaisygirl]

babe i’m a twd obsessed and i’ve been looking for a rafe and zombie apocalypse au everywhere but never found any seriously I LOVE YOU SO MUCH THANK YOU FOR MAKING ONE!!! can i please request a little angst (with happy ending ofc) where maybe before they dated they met a group of other survivors and rafe got close with one of the girl and reader just got so jealous and she was just so sad and sulky all the time and stuff feel free to adjust it any way you want!! thank you have a great day love <3

hiii nonnie! Thank you so much for this request! I've been wanting to write more pre-relationship Rafe zombie au because the two of them were together several months before they actually started dating. I hope this is what you were looking for, also Rafe is a pretty bad guy in this. But it's the apocalypse so who cares. Thanks for reading, my love <3

Us and Them (zombie au): Chapter Three

Rafe Cameron x fem!reader who gets jealous ✿ 1.3k words

cw: zombie apocalypse, fem!reader, pre-established relationship, jealous!reader, Rafe is a bad guy, mention of throwing up, mention of unnamed side character deaths, i struggle to call anything in this au a happy ending so we'll say positive ending

rafe cameron masterlist

°˖✧✿✧˖°

You eat slowly, the already chewy pasta tasting like rubber in your mouth as you stare across the fire. Rafe is sitting there, legs crossed and grimacing as he eats out of his own makeshift bowl. Your eyes move to his left and there she is. Right next to him like she has been since your groups met two weeks ago. 

You aren’t sure why Rafe has decided to join this group. Yes, all of them are around your age, but Rafe has been very adamant about avoiding people since the beginning. The only thing you can think of is that he has a crush on this girl, their leader.

And why wouldn’t he, you think to yourself. She’s pretty, she’s the first woman he’s really interacted with since the apocalypse started (excluding you), and she seems to laugh excessively at all of his jokes. Even the ones that aren’t funny.

And so, you sit on the other side of the campfire and watch them with icky bubbles of jealousy and anger in your gut. It reminds you of Before, when you felt small and overlooked everywhere you went. It’s not that you even like Rafe, in fact you think he’s a huge dick. However, it had been just the two of you for almost two months and now…

“Hey,” There’s a boy sitting next to you, smiling at you in a way that makes your skin crawl. You stand, abandoning your meal, and head inside your tent. 

Things get worse the next night. 

You wake up having to pee, which already makes you anxious. Peeing in the middle of the woods where anything could find and attack you is certainly an experience. Your heart is already racing wildly when you return to camp, and a voice catches your attention. You instantly recognize Rafe’s deep tone and your steps falter. 

“Where do you want to go?” Rafe asks, his voice finding your ears from the tent you’re next to. Her tent. 

“I don’t know. Anywhere.” Her voice is light and airy, pretty like an actress from an old movie. It makes you want to throw up. “Come on, Rafe. You know the two of us could make it. Right?”

Oh. You seem to understand now. You can hear the shifting of fabric against the tent and Rafe hums in response. You want to return to your own tent, but your feet stay planted firmly where they are. Your suspicions are confirmed when she speaks again.

“We’ll just take what we have and leave. The two of us… we could do it. The others aren’t going to make it anyway, you know?”

Oof.

You don’t hang around for Rafe’s response. Your blood runs cold as you climb back into your tent as quickly as you can. You’re shaking by the time you’re back in your sleeping bag. 

You never really fall back asleep. How can you? It’s just fits of tossing and turning broken by the occasional drift off that leaves you panicked when you wake up. You’re fully convinced that in the morning, you’ll leave your tent to find Rafe gone with all of your supplies. The idea of being abandoned with nothing and left with strangers feels like a death sentence. You shed a few tears, your mind racing, and find yourself wishing that the morning will never come.

You must finally find some sort of unconscious state, because you’re woken up by a shove to your shoulder and a gruff “wake up.” Your heart leaps into your throat, eyelids flying open, only to find Rafe crouched above you in your tent. You aren’t sure what your face does but it seems to make his expression darken.

“Rafe?”

“Get up. Get your stuff. Now.” It’s a demand you wouldn’t second guess even if Rafe was your worst enemy. You scramble to stand, your joints achy and your mind spinning. You roll up your sleeping bag and grab your pack in record time, slipping on your shoes before leaving the tent. 

Rafe is there, grabbing your hand and tugging you behind him. None of the others are around, maybe not even awake yet. Rafe has more on his back than you’d ever be able to carry, and he still moves through the trees like it’s nothing. You glance back in the direction of the camp, and your brain starts to slowly put the pieces together. Rafe took the supplies, and instead of leaving with her, he found you.

“Where are we going?” You ask him, and he sends you a glare. A silent warning to shut up. It works for a while, until the nerves tighten around your throat just as his fingers tighten around your wrist and you can’t help it. “Rafe, what’s going on?”

He whips around, face to face with you, eyes darker than you’ve seen them. You lean back, afraid under the intense heat of his expression. When he speaks, it’s low and threatening.

“Listen,” A few of his nails dig into the skin of your wrist as he tightens his grip further. “You need to not be stupid. Shut the fuck up when I tell you to.”

You don’t listen, despite the fact that you could feel the blood draining from your face with each of his words. “But I thought you were leaving with-”

“I already told you not to be stupid.” He repeats. Rafe lets go of your wrist to run a hand through his short, unruly strands of hair. He adjusts the packs on his back and sighs. “Look, I wasn’t going to leave you behind.”

“But why?” This is the question neither you or Rafe really know the answer to. Rafe is mean, cruel, and clearly unforgiving. He stole supplies from another group and left them for dead without a second thought, but not you. You watch his jaw clench and his eyes harden.

“You’re annoying as fuck, you’re stupid, and you have no clue what you’re doing. Most of the time, I’m convinced you’re going to trip over your own feet, keel over, and die.” Each word feels like a punch to the gut, because you know he isn’t lying. This is the most honest he’s ever been with you. “But… look, I asked you to come with me, didn’t I?”

“Well yes, but-”

“Then don’t make me change my mind. Right now, it’s us and them. We have to survive, and so we’ll do what we need to do.” His eyes drill into your own like he’s trying to see into your soul. And even if you don’t particularly like Rafe Cameron, your insides flutter at the idea that he’s chosen to protect you. 

“Did you steal from them?” You ask quietly, barely a whisper, even though you know the answer. The two extra, fully stuffed to the brim packs on his back are evidence enough for you. 

“She was going to take everything and leave you behind.” Rafe says like that’s enough of an answer for you. You think for him it might be. 

“Are they going to die?” Rafe narrows his eyes at your question, like he’s challenging you to keep asking him things you already know the answer to.

“What did I just say?” Rafe raises his brows, and you know what to say. Because it’s always the same thing.

“Don’t be stupid.”

“Now, come on.”

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© prettydaisygirl

[cheshireliam]

Ring Schwartz 2nd Birthday Campaign: Story

Chapters 1 — 3

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

— Even if your heart is trapped in abyssal darkness, even if you can’t love yourself. 

I wish for your daily life to have even just one tiny sparkle. 

…

Kate: Wow… this tea is delicious! The rich aroma lingers in my mouth with every sip.

William: Word has it that these tea leaves are the best batch ever grown in years.

— It was a quiet morning on a day off with no plans for the day, and I was enjoying the tea William had prepared. 

As I relaxed in the peaceful atmosphere, the sound of two pairs of hurried footsteps broke it. 

Liam: Kate, since when did you start dating Ring!?

Alfons: You’re so cruel, Miss Kate… was I no more than a one-time fling to you!?

The words spoken by the two men who burst into the dining hall had me completely bewildered. 

Kate: I don't remember dating Ring, nor do I remember ever having a fling with Alfons… 

William: Fufu, I wonder what amusing misunderstanding could've let to this?

Liam: Ring came all the way here to Crown’s castle and he’s asking to see Kate. 

Liam: He said he has some secret business with her that he can’t tell anyone else about.

Alfons: The ever so innocent Ring personally requesting to meet you, and for it to be in regards to some secret business, no less…

Alfons: Isn’t it obvious that the two of you share a very special relationship?

Kate: It’s not… you should tone down your curiosity, Liam.

Kate: And Alfons, please stop making up nonsensical things just because you’re finding this funny. 

Alfons: Alriiighttt.

Liam: Okaaay. 

The pair, who were always drawn to anything even remotely entertaining, replied in unison. 

Finishing my tea, I stood from my seat.

Kate: Thank you for the tea, William. 

William: Where to next?

Kate: Considering he came all this way specifically to see me… I should talk to Ring first. 

…

Right outside Crown’s castle, I spotted Ring being ambushed by Harrison and Roger. 

Kate: Ring, I heard you wanted to see me…

Ring: Oh! You actually came, Robin…! 

The moment he saw me, Ring’s eyes lit up like a lost child who had found his parents. 

Roger: So… how do you intend to ask the lil’ lady out on a date?

Ring: T-that's not it! I’ve already told you, didn't I? I’m not here to ask Robin out on a date… 

Harrison: Doesn’t look like he’s lying.

Roger: Oh? Then what business do you have with her, if not a date? Depending on your answer… we might not let you have Kate. 

Roger and Harrison stepped forward and stood protectively between Ring and I… 

It looked like they were protecting me, but…!

One glance at their faces made it clear that they were just having fun with the situation. 

(First there was Liam and Alfons, and now even these two…?) 

(... I guess Ring’s just too good to tease.) 

I suddenly felt bad for Ring once I realised how that must have felt. 

Ring: I wanted to keep it a secret so the information wouldn’t leak, but… I guess I have no choice but to reveal it now.

Ring: Actually… I came to ask for your help with choosing a birthday present. 

Kate: A birthday present?

Ring: Tomorrow is Nica’s birthday. I don’t have a sense for such things and don’t know much about them, so I’m struggling to pick a present. 

Ring: I asked for Dari’s help at first, but— 

…

Darius: I’m busy, so I can’t help. Why don’t you ask someone from Crown to help you instead? 

Darius: That way, you get to find out more about them and pick a present for Nica at the same time. Killing two birds with one stone, right? 

…

Ring: … That’s what he said, so I figured I’d ask you for help since you seem to have a good sense for getting gifts. 

(“Seem to have good sense”... this is the first time I’m getting this compliment, it feels kind of good to hear.)

Feeling pleased by the compliment, I decided to go with the flow and accept his request. 

Kate: Alright. If you’re okay with me helping you, I’d be happy to. 

Ring: R-really? You’ll be a huge help…! 

Ring’s smile made me think that… if he were a dog, his tail would be wagging like crazy right now. 

Kate: It’s just… I’m not exactly an expert on knowing what men like to receive as gifts, so I think it might help to get some opinions from others. 

Kate: Harrison, Roger, what would you be happy to receive as a gift? 

I decided to ask them right away, since they were just there, but— 

Roger: Alcohol. Or something that goes well with it. 

Harrison: I’d like something sweet. 

Their instant responses were exactly as I expected. 

Ring: Food, huh… Nica has refined taste buds, so I’m not sure I can find something that meets his standards… 

Kate: Boxing gear would be a good gift for Roger, and a novel for Harrison…

Kate: Don't you think it'd be nice to receive something related to your hobbies? 

Roger: Hmm… I already have gear I’m used to, so I don’t really need anyone to buy me more.

Harrison: I wouldn't know how to react if the novel isn’t to my liking or it's one I’ve already read. 

Ring: … Choosing from a category the other person is especially familiar with is a double-edged sword. 

Kate: You’re right. … It’s troublesome indeed, so shall we ask others for their opinions too? Let’s go, Ring! 

Ring: Ah, yeah! I’ll be counting on you. 

— And so, we started our search for Nica’s birthday present. 

…

Ring and I went around gathering opinions to help us decide on a present for Nica. 

William: Something I’d want? Let me think… what do you think I’d want? 

Ring: … That’s what we came to ask.

Kate: Off to the next person! 

…

Liam: Something I’d want… I don’t really want anything in particular. 

Liam: Right now, all I want is the smiles of the audience who come to see my performances! 

Ring: As expected of Sparkly Pink… even your words sparkle…! 

…

Elbert: I want… the most beautiful thing in this world.

Ring: That’s hard. We’d have to compare every single thing in the world to find out what the most beautiful thing is… 

Alfons: I want to spend a sweeeeet, passionate night with Miss Kate. 

Ring: Y-you can’t! 

Alfons: Why do you get to decide? This is between me and Miss Kate. 

Alfons: Ahh, could it be that you've already reserved a night with her yourself? 

Ring: Wha—!? A-absolutely NOT. Don’t say anything weird!! 

Kate: Please don't poke fun at Ring, Alfons. Let’s move on! 

…

Jude: … Somethin’ I want? “Money” or “submissive labour”. 

Ellis: I don’t want anything. But if I had to choose… I suppose I’d want something that would make you happy. 

…

Victor: Something I’d want for my birthday…? Don’t tell me, are you planning for my birthday celebration next year!? 

Victor: First of all, I want everyone from Crown and Vogel to sing me a birthday song. And then— 

…

After gathering opinions from everyone in Crown… Ring and I headed off to buy a present. 

Kate: Hmm… some of their opinions were helpful, whereas some… not quite. 

Ring: … Maybe I should just give him cash instead.

Ring: That might be better than ending up picking something weird and disappointing Nica… 

Kate: You can’t let Jude influence you! The process of choosing the present is important too, you know? 

Ring: Is that how it works…?

Kate: Absolutely! In that case, let’s change our approach.

Kate: Instead of thinking about what Nica wants, let’s think about what you want to give him. 

Ring: What I want to give him…? 

Kate: For example, we could consider getting him something he can use at work or help him relax… 

Kate: Try imagining how Nica would use a present you give him. That might give you some ideas. 

Ring: I… 

Ring’s eyes, usually bright like the reflection of the clear blue sky on a water’s surface, suddenly darkened as though a drop of ink had fallen into them. 

He seemed to be lost in his memories of the past, and for a moment, I thought I saw my image disappear from his eyes. 

It felt like he had wandered off somewhere far away, leaving me feeling uneasy all of a sudden.

Ring: I… want to give Nica a present that will make him smile again. 

Kate: Make him smile again…? 

(From what I’ve seen, Nica always seems to be smiling…)

(... What does Ring mean by “again”?) 

I wasn't very familiar with anything that had happened to the two. 

But… I could tell that Ring’s words came from his heart. 

(A present that will make Nica smile… I wonder what that could be.)

Ring: At this point, I should just buy this. 

With a look of exasperation on his face, Ring picked up a book titled “100 Jokes Guaranteed To Have Everyone Rolling With Laughter!”

A mental image of Nica cracking one of those witty jokes flashed through my mind and vanished as quickly as a shooting star. 

Kate: L-let’s give it another thought! We still have plenty of time!

Ring: But… 

Kate: I’ll help you search for a present you’re satisfied with! Don’t give up!

Ring: … Thanks, Robin. You’re very kind. 

Just as we started walking toward another store, something caught my eye.

Kate: What do you think of this, Ring? 

…

While searching for a present with Ring, my eyes landed on an advertisement for a “coffee cup painting experience”.

Since the members of Vogel lived in the palace, they most likely didn’t have much personal tableware… which made a personalised coffee cup a practical gift. 

Moreover, I was sure Nica would be pleased to receive a one-of-a-kind coffee cup hand painted by Ring himself. 

Ring: … They said they can process it quickly at the shop, so it’ll be ready for pick up tomorrow at noon. 

Kate: I can’t wait to give it to Nica.

Ring: Yeah. 

Ring and I left the store chatting after painting the coffee cup. 

Just then, my vision turned orange.

Kate: Huh? Are these…

Ring: They’re osmanthus flowers. 

Kate: But osmanthus flowers usually only bloom in autumn, right? Wouldn't that make this an off-season bloom? 

Ring: … Or it might be a specially cultivated variety that blooms in all four seasons. 

Kate: A specially cultivated variety…? 

Ring: I'm not too sure of the details… but there’s a technique where different plants are crossbred to create new varieties with specific characteristics. 

Ring: For example, some flowers are cultivated to have more vibrant colours, larger flowers… or a stronger resistance to disease. 

Kate: Wow…! I never knew such techniques existed! 

Listening to Ring’s explanation, I looked up at the osmanthus tree again.

Kate: I don't know if that was how this tree was created, but… 

Kate: … If it was, then it means this tree was grown¹ carrying the hopes of the people who cultivated it. 

¹ The word originally used here was “born”. But trees don't give birth… now do they? 

I was so captivated by the sweet scent of osmanthus flowers and the sight of delicate orange petals fluttering down that I didn't notice— 

Ring: “Born carrying hopes”... huh. 

Ring: I, too,—

Ring muttered something while looking pained, but I didn't catch what he said. 

Kate: … Ah, sorry, Ring! I got too distracted admiring the flowers. 

Ring: No, it’s fine. Such seasonal anomalies are a rare sight and the flowers smell nice, so I understand why you stopped to appreciate them. 

While Ring was talking, a strong gust of wind blew and sent a rain of osmanthus flowers coming down on us. 

Ring: This is incredible. They just keep falling…

Kate: You’re right. It’s almost like a flower shower.

Ring: Flower shower…? That sounds interesting. Is it some sort of ritual where you bathe in flowers? 

Kate: During a wedding ceremony, people scatter flower petals over the bride and groom as a way to give the newlyweds their blessings. 

Ring: W-wedding…? B-b-bride and groom…!? 

Ring: D-does that mean… standing in this rain of flower petals right now… we look like we’re getting married…!? 

Kate: Huh? No, that’s not what I… 

Ring: Unacceptable! 

Ring panicked and hurriedly removed his jacket to hold over his head like a makeshift shelter from the “rain”, before pulling me closer to his side under it, holding me by the waist. 

Ring: … Thank goodness. We’re safe now. 

My nose was filled with the smell of the osmanthus flowers mixed with Ring’s deep woody scent. 

My heart was hammering against my chest, and the warmth due to our lack of physical distance made me all the more nervous, but—

More than that, there was something else on my mind. 

Kate: Umm… I’m sorry, Ring.

Ring: What for? 

Kate: I didn’t realize you’d hate the idea so much… I shouldn't have compared this to a flower shower. 

Ring: … No, it’s not you that I hate. 

Ring: One day, we might become enemies, and as a member of Vogel, I can’t get too close to you…

Ring: That aside, you’re kind and an overall good person. 

Ring: When Harrison and Roger had me surrounded in front of the castle today, it made me happy to hear you calling out to me from afar. 

Ring: There’s nothing in it for you, and yet you sincerely helped me to pick a present for Nica. 

Ring: You also stopped me when I was about to give up and buy something weird… all of it makes me happy. 

Ring: If you were my fiancée, I feel like we’d make a wonderful family… I can easily picture it. 

Kate: … 

I could feel my face heating up at the praise I had never heard before. 

Ring: That’s exactly why… it just feels wrong for someone like me to be seen as your fiancé. 

Ring: So just bear with it a little longer, until the petals stop falling. 

(“Someone like me”...) 

Those words made the warmth I felt from being complimented fade away almost instantly. 

I think Ring’s a wonderful person…

The way he spoke so lowly of himself was heartbreaking to witness. 

Kate: You’re a wonderful person too, Ring. No matter what anyone says, I know you are. 

I looked up at him, genuinely wanting him to hear the words coming from the bottom of my heart. 

Kate: You’re wary of Crown because we might one day become Vogel’s enemy.

Kate: Despite that… you went all the way to Crown’s castle just to seek help with picking out a birthday present. 

Kate: You wanted to find something special for Nica, even if it meant putting your suspicions aside. I think that’s wonderful.

Ring: …

Kate: Someone who cherishes the family he has now will surely… cherish the family they create in the future too. 

Kate: So there’s nothing bad or strange about you being my fiancé at all…! 

Ring: Um. 

Kate: Ah. 

Kate: Uhh… sorry. I was just babbling away…! 

Ring: I-I see…

An awkward moment of silence fell between us as we stared at each other, unable to say another word. 

Ring: Robin… 

Right as Ring was about to say something, the wind suddenly stopped.

Ring: … G-good. The rain of petals is over. 

Ring put his jacket back on and stepped away from me.

His warmth was now gone, and somehow I felt a little lonely. 

…

Our day of picking out a present smoothly came to an end…

The next morning, I went to visit Ring at the palace.

Ring: Did you need something from me…? Did you perhaps forget to tell me something yesterday—...

Kate: Nope, I didn't forget anything. I came to tell you something I can only say today. 

Ring: …? 

Kate: Happy birthday, Ring! 

I held out a small package to him. 

Ring: Huh…? Wha—...!?

Kate: Since it’s Nica’s birthday today and you two are twins, I figured it must be your birthday too… am I wrong? 

Ring: You’re not… but I didn't expect to receive a present from you. 

Ring: Th…tha…thanks… Can I open it now?

Kate: Go ahead! … But it’s nothing fancy, so please don’t expect too much. 

Ring opened the package to reveal a small glass jar filled with colourful candies.

Ring: Wow…! The jar is beautiful, and the candies sparkle like jewels… 

Ring: It’s fun to look at, like looking at treasure. 

He lifted the jar up to the sunlight, admiring the way the candies sparkled. 

Kate: Fufu… I’m glad you like it. I picked it out while thinking of you. 

Ring: Thinking of me…?

Kate: You told me yesterday that you had no sense for gifts and didn’t know enough about them to pick a good one, right? 

Ring: Oh, yeah… I did say that. 

Kate: I think that’s how everyone starts out. 

Kate: Just like filling a glass jar with your favourite candies, you gain new experiences and gather things you love little by little every day… 

Kate: That’s how you develop your sense for things and learn more about the world. 

Kate: So… I hope the days you spend in England will be like this jar, filling up with things you love. 

As I spoke, Ring took another look at the jar, taking in the sight of the colourful candies inside. 

Ring: I don’t know if that’s how my days will turn out. But… 

Ring: At the very least… they did turn out like that yesterday and today, all thanks to you. 

Ring took out two pieces of candy, one the same warm orange colour of osmanthus flowers and one a soft lavender colour like the ribbon I was wearing today. 

He placed the orange candy in my palm. 

Ring: … Thank you for celebrating my birthday.

Ring: If you don’t mind… can we eat these candies together? 

Kate: Thank you! I’d love to. 

The sweet candy melted on my tongue, and at the same time, Ring’s gentle smile filled my heart… 

It felt like a tiny piece of jewel-like candy was just added to the jar in my heart. 

[greenxgloss]

Im new to Tumblr and took me an eternity to find the freaking ask button! *clears throat* anyway!

Can I please request a fix where you’ve been an solo idol for about 3 to five years now and you really found success so naturelly you buy a new house so you throw a house worming party with your idol friends including your Hybe friends but Yoongi can not keep his hands of you cause of your outfit so you snuck of to somewhere In the house and well you know… no need for smit if you don’t like! And you where teased the rest of the night lol. And maybe during the dinner part of the soirée your friends threatened to leak your embarrassing pictures if you don’t release an album soon. You can be as creative as you’d like if your up for it haha

Side note: you let Yoongi after you debut at a Hybe artist reunion party.

I know this might be alog

Youd be surpised how long it took me to understand how tumblr works and I'm still figuring shit out after being on here for years dw bby. thank you so much for the request I hope you enjoy reading xoxo

Summary: At your housewarming party, Yoongi's lingering touches and heated gaze reignite a long-simmering attraction between you, pushing your teasing friendship to its breaking point. With the music and laughter of your friends just outside the door, you surrender to the tension, finally giving in to the desire that had always simmered beneath the surface. Themes: Flirtatious!Yoongi x Clueless!Reader, SoftDom!Yoongi, Smut, F!Reader, F oral receiver, Drunk characters, mention of alcohol, little tiny bit of comedy and slight peer pressure but in a funny way. Word Count: 4k

The bass from the speakers pulsed through the walls, a steady rhythm that matched the excitement buzzing in the air. Your housewarming party was in full swing—idol friends scattered across your new home, drinks in hand, laughter spilling into every corner. The success of your solo career had allowed you to upgrade to a place like this, and tonight was all about celebrating.

You stood in front of the bathroom mirror, adjusting your pearlecent butterfly top and smoothing out the pockets of your low-rise flared jeans. With a spin, you glanced back at the sweet embroidered design on the back pockets and smiled at your reflection.

You had spent weeks planning everything—down to the smallest detail—ensuring the night would be as perfect as your career had been these past few years. But as much as you wanted to enjoy yourself, it was becoming increasingly difficult under Yoongi’s burning gaze.

From the moment you opened the door to welcome your HYBE friends, his eyes had been locked on you. The outfit you’d chosen—The butterfly top in specific was very revealing—It had been a bold choice, but you hadn't expected this level of distraction. Every time you moved, every time you leaned over to refill a glass or turned to laugh at something someone said, you could feel Yoongi’s presence like a magnet, pulling you in. Your back was fully exposed and your cleavage on full display. The glitter sprayed over your chest, complimenting the chrome pearls around your neck and the matching ones hanging from your ears. 

You had met him early on, back when you were still just a trainee—wide-eyed, hungry for success, and eager to prove yourself. It was during those long, exhausting practice days that you first crossed paths with Bangtan, their presence in the building a constant reminder of the level of success you were striving toward. They were already established- legends in the making, but despite the difference in status, they treated you kindly. Yoongi, in particular, had always caught your attention.

From the beginning, there was something effortless about the way the two of you interacted. Your conversations were laced with playful teasing, subtle touches, and lingering eye contact that hinted at something more. The attraction was always there, simmering just beneath the surface, but nothing ever came of it. Timing was never in your favor—he was busy with his career, and you were too focused on building your own name to entertain the thought of something serious. So, instead, you settled into a dynamic that felt safe: a flirty friendship that never quite crossed the line.

Until tonight.

It started with the small things—his hand resting a second too long on the small of your back as he passed by, his breath ghosting over your ear when he leaned in to speak, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your arm. You tried to ignore it, pretend like it wasn’t sending heat through your veins, but the knowing smirk on his face told you he could see right through you.

And then, you snapped.

The second you found an opening and everyone was distracted and consumed by the loud music, you grabbed Yoongi’s wrist and subtly pulled him away from the main party, slipping down a hallway where the music faded into the background. He barely had time to question it before you were on him, pressing him against the wall with a teasing smirk.

Yoongi’s gaze traveled down from your eyes to your cleavage, and he began smiling, tongue clamped between his teeth. 

“Whats with you tonight?” you asked in a whisper, looking over your shoulder, down the hall toward the party. 

“You just look so good tonight; you’re making it really hard to be a gentleman.” he gulped, looking back up into your eyes. You scoffed playfully in return. “You’re such a pervert,” you giggled, grabbing his arm and pulling him into your room.

Yoongi chuckled, the deep rumble of his laughter sending shivers down your spine as he bit his lip, eyes dark with want. He reached behind him, blindly pushing the door shut before his hands found their place on your waist, pulling you flush against him. The warmth of his body, the scent of his cologne mixed with something uniquely him, wrapped around you like a haze.

“You dressed so—fuck," he rasped, his voice low and strained, breath fanning against your ear. "You practically have your tits out, and you expected me to just act normal?”

His words sent heat rushing through you, pooling deep in your stomach as his hands roamed your exposed skin, fingertips skimming over the curve of your hips, down your sides, up your back. His touch was slow, teasing, like he was savoring every inch of you. His face nuzzled into the crook of your neck, lips brushing against your pulse point before pressing open-mouthed kisses there, sucking lightly, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

“Shit—Yoongi,” you whined, his name slipping past your lips before you could stop it. Your fingers instinctively tangled into his hair, twisting and pulling, eliciting a low groan from him. His grip on your hips tightened in response, his body pressing even closer to yours as he guided you backward, step by step, until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the bed.

A delicious shiver shot up your spine, settling in your head like a drug. Your breath hitched as Yoongi pulled back slightly, his lips barely grazing yours, his dark eyes locked onto yours.

“Mmh,” he hummed, his voice dripping with need. "I wanna hear you say my name like that again.”

Yoongi kissed your lips with hunger, lowering you down on the bed gently. He pulled away to unbutton his jeans. 

A loud noise could be heard from outside causing you and Youngi to snap your attention toward the door. Your stomach sank.

“Fuck sake, kook.” you heard jimin cuss at Jungkook, probably picking his drunk bones off the ground and walk him to the bathroom.

You glanced back up at Yoongi, catching his gaze just as he turned toward you. The moment your eyes met, laughter bubbled up between you, a shared understanding passing between the two of you without a single word.

“God, they’re so annoying,” Yoongi groaned, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair, his dark eyes flickering with amusement. “My heart is pounding.” His chuckle was warm, breathless, as if the weight of the possibility of being walked in on had begun fading away.

Before you could respond, he suddenly dropped to his knees in front of you, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer to the edge of the bed.

“Wait, what are you—”

“Doesn’t look like I’ll have time for more than a drink,” he murmured, voice thick with something sinful as his fingers found the button of your jeans.

Your breath hitched as he expertly popped it open, the slow, deliberate way he peeled the denim down your thighs making your skin prickle with anticipation. The cool air of the room kissed your now-exposed skin, sending a shiver up your spine. And then, his eyes darkened—his playful smirk faltering for just a second as his gaze fell to the light blue G-string hugging your hips, the darkened patch of fabric giving away just how much you wanted him.

Yoongi exhaled sharply, his brows twitching as if he was physically restraining himself. “That’s just amazing,” he breathed out, his voice tinged with an almost reverent chuckle.

Your stomach clenched at his words, the intensity of his stare making you feel bare in ways that had nothing to do with clothing. Your body betrayed you, heat pooling in your core, thighs instinctively pressing together. The whole situation had you weak—your voice caught in your throat, words completely failing you.

“All I did was touch you,” he mused, amusement dancing in his tone. “And you’re already like this?”

Your face burned, and a nervous scoff left your lips as you averted your gaze. “That’s embarrassing,” you muttered, fingers twitching against the bedsheets.

Yoongi, however, was having none of it. His hands slid up your thighs, warm and grounding, his touch sending a new wave of electricity through your veins. “No. What? I love it,” he said, voice still soft but firm. “You need me just as much as I need you.”

The way his words curled around you, the way they soaked into your skin and settled deep inside your chest—it was intoxicating. It wasn’t just what he said but how he said it. His voice, laced with something raw and unfiltered, sent a rush of heat flooding through your body, a warmth that spread like the first shot of tequila you’d taken earlier that night.

“Yoongi,” you whined, the sound escaping before you could stop it, your body acting on pure impulse as your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him up.

He let out a low chuckle, but the moment his lips met yours, the teasing melted into something deeper. He smiled against your mouth, his hands sliding around your waist as he pulled you flush against him. The kiss was slow, lingering—like he was savoring the taste of you, the moment, the way you trembled in his hands.

Yoongi’s touch was electric, his palm warm as it pressed against your chest, fingers expertly kneading the soft flesh of your breast. A shiver coursed through you, your body responding instantly, a quiet moan slipping past your lips and into his mouth. He swallowed the sound, deepening the kiss for just a moment longer before pulling away, his dark eyes flickering with something teasing, something hungry.

“That good?” he murmured, his voice thick with amusement, yet laced with something deeper—something that made your stomach clench and your legs press together involuntarily. His gaze was locked onto your face, drinking in every twitch of your features, every shallow breath as his hand trailed lower. The tips of his fingers danced over your stomach, feather-light and torturously slow, before reaching the delicate lace of your thong.

You nodded quickly, barely able to breathe, anticipation thick in the air. But Yoongi wasn’t satisfied with just that. His lips curled into a smirk as he bit down gently on his lower lip. “You’ve never had a problem using your words before,” he mused, his voice dropping an octave, a sultry rasp that sent heat shooting through your core.

His fingers slipped beneath the thin fabric, the heat of his touch making your breath hitch as he traced a slow, teasing line down your center. Your body betrayed you, hips jerking slightly at the sensation, your skin prickling with anticipation.

A whimper bubbled in your throat, but you swallowed it, your pride barely keeping you from giving him exactly what he wanted so easily. But he knew. He always knew.

Yoongi’s lips brushed against the corner of your mouth, his breath fanning over your skin as his fingers dipped lower, his teasing touch barely there. “Nothing to say now, huh?” he hummed, his voice smug, filled with satisfaction at the way you were unraveling under him.

Your heart pounded against your ribcage, the sound almost deafening in your ears. Every nerve in your body was set ablaze, strung so tight that you thought you might snap at the slightest push. The air between you felt thick, charged, like a live wire sparking with tension. Yoongi was toying with you, reveling in the way your body trembled under his touch, in the way your lips parted but no words came out—only desperate little breaths, whimpers that he drank in like they were the sweetest sound in the world.

He was waiting. Waiting for you to break, to give in, to beg. To say his name in that way that made his self-control slip, in that way that had him coming undone right alongside you.

And God, you were so close.

Your pride clashed violently with your desperation, the last remnants of your restraint slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. The tension in your stomach coiled tighter, your legs twitching as his fingers continued their slow, torturous path. You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to breathe through the heat suffocating your body, through the molten ache between your thighs.

"Please." The word barely left your lips, a whisper, a plea, laced with so much raw need that even you barely recognized your own voice.

Yoongi exhaled sharply, his smirk deepening. He loved this. Loved seeing you like this—messy, desperate, completely at his mercy. "Please what, hmm?" he teased, voice low, dangerously smooth, yet thick with desire. His fingers slowed just enough to drive you insane, barely brushing against your clit in agonizing circles, the wet sounds filling the air between you. The sensation sent a new wave of heat flooding through you, burning from the inside out, making your thighs tremble around him.

A deep, satisfied groan rumbled in Yoongi’s chest at the sound, at the way you clenched around nothing, already so worked up just from his teasing. The sight of you—needy, eyes heavy with lust, lips swollen from kissing—had his own restraint hanging by a thread, heat stirring violently in his stomach, in his core, matching yours in intensity.

You let out a soft whimper, your hands fisting the sheets beneath you as you forced yourself to meet his eyes, your own glazed over with want. "I need you. Please." Your voice cracked, your breath hitching as another slow stroke sent a shiver up your spine.

Yoongi’s smirk faltered for just a second, something darker flashing behind his eyes at your words, at the way you were completely unraveling beneath him. He licked his lips, letting his fingers dip lower just to watch you squirm.

"Good girl," he murmured, his voice nothing more than a sultry whisper against your flushed skin. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" he slowly slicked two fingers into your heat, thrusting them at a steady slow pace. He kept his eyes on your face, licking his lips.

Your walls fluttered around his fingers, your body instinctively gripping him tighter with every curl, every slow, deliberate stroke. It was almost unbearable—the way he had you spread open, how his fingers pumped into you with a steady, unrelenting pace, each thrust sending sparks of electricity through your veins. You were drenched, the wet sounds echoing in the room, mixing with your breathless whimpers and the occasional low groan from Yoongi.

You held onto his shoulder like a lifeline, your nails digging into the fabric of his shirt, needing something—anything—to ground yourself. Every sensation felt heightened, overwhelming. The heat between your thighs was suffocating, each movement pushing you closer to the edge, and you knew Yoongi could feel it. He could feel how tight you were, how your body clenched and trembled around him, desperate for more.

"Fuck," he exhaled, his voice a mix of restraint and admiration. His eyes flickered between your parted lips, your flushed cheeks, and the way you writhed under him. "Your pussy feels so good, so tight." His words sent another wave of heat washing over you, pooling in your stomach, making you whimper as he quickened his pace.

You could tell he was struggling to keep his composure. The way his jaw clenched, the way his free hand gripped your thigh possessively, the way his breathing had become just as unsteady as yours—it was obvious. His erection was straining against his jeans, pressed so tightly against the fabric that it had to be painful, but still, he made no move to relieve himself.

Because tonight was about you.

And just when you thought you couldn’t take any more, when your body was on the verge of collapsing under the pleasure, Yoongi suddenly pulled his fingers out of you, leaving you empty and aching. You whined at the loss, your hips instinctively bucking up, chasing the friction, but before you could even protest, he was already shifting lower, his hands gripping your thighs firmly as he spread you open beneath him.

His eyes darkened as he took in the sight of you, glistening, needy, completely at his mercy. "Fuck, look at you," he murmured, his breath ghosting over your sensitive skin, making you shiver.

And then, without another word, he dipped his head down and dragged his tongue through your folds, slow and deliberate, savoring the taste of you.

Your breath hitched, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as he moaned against you, the vibrations shooting straight through your core. Yoongi ate you out like he was starving, like he had been waiting for this all night, his tongue lapping at you, flicking and circling your clit in a way that made you see stars.

You were lost in it, lost in him—your body melting, pleasure building so intensely it was almost unbearable. And judging by the way Yoongi groaned against you, his own frustration mounting with every second, he was just as lost in you. 

Yoongi’s swollen lips wrapped around your clit, his tongue flicking against the sensitive bud before sucking it into his mouth with a slow, deliberate pull. A sharp gasp left your lips, your fingers tangling tighter into his dark hair as heat pooled in your core. He was relentless, tongue working against you in fluid, hungry strokes, savoring every sound that spilled from your mouth.

His grip on your thighs tightened, fingers digging into your skin as if grounding himself, keeping you spread open for him, completely at his mercy. He let out a low, guttural growl against your heat, the vibrations sending a sharp jolt of pleasure through your spine. "Fuck," he exhaled, lips wet with evidence of how much you needed him. His tongue delved deeper, lapping at your slick folds before flicking back up to your clit, teasing, tormenting. Your back arched off the mattress, breath hitching as he pushed you further into that delicious, intoxicating edge of pleasure.

“Right there, right there,” you mewled, barely coherent, and he hummed against you in response, sending another wave of pleasure straight to your core. He wanted more. He needed more. The way you writhed, the way you moaned his name like a prayer—he was addicted. 

You couldn't quite describe how you felt. It was like an itch deep in your stomach that only Yoongi could reach, your back arching off the bed with a squeaking gasp, your hips rutting against his nose. 

“Fuck im gonna cum yoongi.” your jaw slack, eyes glued shut and grasp on his hair tightening with every flick of his tongue. Yoongi trailed his hands up to your hips, spurring you on to grind against his face, fuck yourself on his face. He began slurping down your cunt loudly, the sound planting a sweet itch at your core similar to when youre trying to remember a word and its on the tip of your tongue but you cant quite get it.

The sudden clench of your walls had Yoongi moving instinctively, his hand swiftly covering your mouth before the inevitable moan could escape. His grip was firm but careful, as though he knew exactly how your body would betray you. Your thighs tightened around his head in response, the tension spurring him on as he devoured you through the aftershocks of your climax. His tongue worked tirelessly, determined to savor every drop of you until the overstimulation had you writhing beneath him.

“Too much, Yoongs,” you gasped, voice breathless as your fingers found purchase in his hair, tugging with just enough desperation to make him groan against you. Your body trembled, vision blurred, but he wasn’t finished. The taste of you was intoxicating—his newfound favorite indulgence—and he wasn’t ready to part from it just yet.

Eventually, he relented, emerging from between your legs with a satisfied hum. A thin sheen of sweat glistened along his forehead, his lips swollen and glistening from his efforts. He watched you for a moment, drinking in the sight of your spent body before pressing slow, lingering kisses up your stomach. When his lips finally found yours, the kiss was deep, unhurried—possessive. He made sure to leave them swollen, a reminder of what had just transpired between you.

You could taste yourself on him, the remnants of your arousal mixing with the faint trace of tequila lingering on your own tongue. Yoongi pulled back just slightly, his breath fanning over your lips as he smirked.

“We should get back before someone comes looking for you,” he murmured, voice low, warm. His eyes roamed over your dazed expression, the way your body still trembled slightly in the aftermath. “You look too pretty like this—fucked out and glowing. I think I’d like to keep that to myself.”

Before you could respond, he stole another kiss, this one brief but teasing, before pushing himself to his feet. He disappeared into the washroom, giving himself a once-over in the mirror while you hurried to gather your composure, pulling your bottoms back on.

“That doesn’t sound crazy at all,” you mused, giggling as you ran a brush through your hair, then lightly dusted setting powder across your flushed skin. A spritz of perfume, a quick reapplication of deodorant, and you were ready.

Together, you navigated your way back to the party with careful steps, eyes darting around to ensure no one had noticed your absence. Just before you stepped into view, you reached up, fluffing his hair to make him look a little less disheveled. Yoongi caught your wrist before you could pull away, pressing one final kiss to your palm, a smirk tugging at his lips.

Then, as if nothing had happened, you rejoined the party.

When the two of you finally emerged—slightly disheveled but expertly composed—your friends were already onto you. You cleared your throat as you fixed your hair and readjusted your top, looking over at Yoongi who still has some of your cum on his chin. Your eyes widened in mortification, and you quickly rushed to wipe it off with your thumb. An afterglow ever-present on both your faces though you’d scrambled to touch up your makeup before rushing out and quickly fixing up your hair

"Nice of you to rejoin us," Hoseok teased, wiggling his eyebrows up and down, red solo cup clutched in his hands. You giggled while Yoongi rolled his eyes. 

Jimin grinned. "We were taking bets on how long you'd be gone."

"You’re all insufferable," you groaned, sinking into your armchair and glancing around the room to see if anyone else had noticed. Yoongi gave you a sympathetic smile. Of course, the Bangtan boys had kept track of each other at parties. Of course, they noticed he was gone, and of course, they noticed the host of the party was also missing. Your openly flirtatious relationship with Yoongi being well known enough amongst them, they immediately connected the dots.

"Oh, we’re not done yet," Namjoon smirked, pulling a handful of photocards from his back pocket and waving them in your face.  "Drop an album soon, or these go public."

Your stomach dropped at the sight of your most embarrassing pre-debut photos. “What the fuck!” you exclaimed somehow still in a whisper and you tried reaching for the photos but he pulled back. “Joon!” you yelled, dragging out in a whine. 

Your hair was an ugly burnt auburn with blonde money pieces, you dressed in the whimsical indie style that had been overused and overdone back when you’d debuted. What you hated the most about your appearance at the time was your acne, which you covered with very, very heavy makeup not doing your skin any favours.

The color drained from your face.

"First of all, you, of all people, should know that writing music isn't that simple," you huffed, exasperation clear in your voice.

Namjoon only chuckled, taking a slow sip of his beer before leveling you with a smirk. "Then get on it," he teased, slipping the photos into his pocket with a deliberate nonchalance.

Jimin, freshly emerged from the guest bathroom, caught the exchange and rolled his eyes. "He won't do anything, don't worry," he muttered, dragging an inebriated Jungkook behind him.

You let out a laugh, shaking your head as the conversation shifted, the night continuing with the usual banter. Whatever Namjoon had planned, you knew he’d wait—he always did. And for now, you could enjoy the moment and be hopeful for what time held for Yoongi and you.

➽ Yoongi Masterlist ➽ Main Masterlist ➽ Taglist Form

[piastrisun]

assist, then kiss.

pairings: george russell + assistant female character.

summary: when lewis’ bails on dinner, his assistant ends up sharing the evening with his teammate. what was supposed to be a casual night turns into an accidental setup.

faceclaim: laura harrier. ⠀warning: none.

notes: named protagonist.

LONDON, ENGLAND. FEBRUARY 10.

liked by georgerussell63, username and others

lewishamilton dinner with the lady before the season starts. wonderful night as always.

tagged rhode

view all comments

username that’s my wife

username1 lewis or rhode cause it could be any of them

username both

username2 i’m obsessed with them

username3 what’s the deal here i’m new and i don’t get anything 😭😭

username4 rhode is lewis’ assistant and close friend!! they hang out almost all the time off work

rhode well deserved dinner for being the most wonderful assistant ever

lewishamilton true, very much deserved

username5 they’re so sweet

username6 glad you had an amazing break!!

georgerussell63 see you on track, mate!

georgerussell63 and see you on the garage, rhode

rhode 🫂

─── ⋅ ☆ ⋅ ───

rhode added to their story.

replies to your story:

georgerussell63 oh hello there!

rhode 👋🏾

georgerussell63 reacted ❤️ to your message

lewishamilton no hey lewis

rhode the 44 cap says it all

lewishamilton ☹️☹️☹️

rhode but

username how are you going to look THAT good on a casual selfie

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liked by alex_albon, username and others

georgerussell63 testing done! thanks to the team in bahrain and back home for all the hard work. and hello to rhodie for sneaking in my selfie.

view all comments

username1 let’s goooo george 🩵

username2 “rhodie” is so cute

username3 am so delusional i think they’d be a really good couple

username2 fr they match each other’s vibes but it’s never happening

username4 my fave f1 model

rhode hey george 🫶🏾 ♥︎ liked by author

lewishamilton 🕴🏻

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RHODE’S CHATS: LEWIS HAMILTON & GEORGE RUSSELL.

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RHODE’S CHATS: LEWIS HAMILTON.

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rhode added to their story.

replies to your story:

georgerussell63 posting a picture where you look stunning while i look like that should be a crime

rhode that’s just how you look on the daily basis

georgerussell63 JAIL TIME DESERVED

lewishamilton 👀👀👀

lewishamilton stop leaving me in seen

rhode thought you suggested me to flirt while you bail?

lewishamilton i have an eye for this stuff!!!

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rhode added to their story.

replies to your story:

lewishamilton if you two aren’t a match then i don’t know what love is

rhode i’m going to hold your hand when i say this…

georgerussell63 out all of the awful pictures you took of me, this has to be one of the WORST

rhode not my fault you look like you’d ask me if i have games on my phone 😭😭

georgerussell63 MATE???

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liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon and others

rhode a few moments of the past few weeks. swipe for a surprise. <3

tagged lewishamilton, georgerussell63

view all comments

username i was like aweee most beautiful dump and there’s george

username2 she’s not serious at all 😭😭

username4 why was i expecting a normal picture of him since they were together yesterday

username3 how does it feel to live my DREAM

username4 travel the world, being hot and funny?

username3 no, being friends w lewis and george

username5 ok that’s fair

georgerussell63 OH COME ON

georgerussell63 never gonna get pass that moment i see

rhode true, nothing you’ll ever do will be as good as you recording alex

alex_albon thanks for keeping him humble, he needs it

rhode 🙏

username6 alexrhode interaction????

lewishamilton now you owe me one! i’ll wait for my fruit basket right here

rhode you’re gonna die waiting

lewishamilton 🙃

rhode please don’t fire me

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georgerussell63 added to their story.

replies to your story:

rhode IM CRYING WHAT IS THIS

georgerussell63 you know what it is, pure hate

rhode omg you’re obsessed with me

georgerussell63 i wanna throw a rock at you

rhode that’s the best you came up with??? AFTER TEN MINUTES

georgerussell63 yes please don’t judge

username at this point you two should turn your accounts into hate pages of each other 😭😭

alex_albon big dumbass energy except it’s not energy but a fact

georgerussell63 thanks!

alex_albon ur welcome

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rhode added to their story.

replies to your story:

georgerussell63 are you trying to flirt with me right now

rhode no, we are at work!!!

georgerussell63 technically i don’t work with you ☝️

username9 dream work? more like dream girl

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liked by username4, landonorris and others

georgerussell63 already planning my next visit, not with rhode though. 🗺️

view all comments

username5 I CANT WITH THEM

username6 they’re so funny together, i bet lewis regrets introducing them

rhode i'm choosing to ignore the caption AND that you tried to make me look bad… you really are incapable of posting with a shirt ON

georgerussell YOU TOOK IT so whose to blame 🫵

username imagine they are together and we are making fools of ourselves

username2 IMAGINE OMG

rhode well yes! ♥︎ liked by author

username3 £;&:&:& WHAT

username4 i just fell at my knees

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liked by georgerussell63, lewishamilton and others

rhode forgot to mention. but we do love each other, i swear!!!

tagged georgerussell63

view all comments

username lewis setting them up by accident might be my favourite thing ever

georgerussell63 and she takes good pictures of me, don’t hate on her!!!!

rhode literally no one did

georgerussell63 i did 🫣

rhode i’m done with you

georgerussell63 no you’re not

rhode you right

username LMAOOOO they’re so funny

username2 the relationship i deserve

username3 us not realising they were together because they are always joking it’s so george 😭

georgerussell63 fun fact: i love you!!!

rhode WOAHHHH, did you know that i love you too?

username4 that’s it they’re my parents now

lewishamilton my favourite couple by far! 🖤

rhode thank you for dumping us that night, but don’t do it again

lewishamilton yes m’am 🫡

©⠀piastrisun original work. please don’t translate, claim or repost any of my writing, 24’.

[tayraedoll]

Old Man

Part 2 Part 3

You keep teasing Alastor due to his age, he is about to show you how his age just makes him more experienced.

TW: Swearing, drinking, vomit, blackouts, suggestive themes, old-fashioned chivalry, drunk kissing

No smut, but is very suggestive at the end.

You slam the door to the hotel angrily behind you, causing the door to shutter in a way that would have worried you about breaking it if you had it in you to give a fuck.

"Fucking prick...who the hell does he think he is?!", you mutter under your breath

You run your hand through your chestnut hair. Your demon form was that of a fallow deer, your hair turned a reddish brown color with ears to match on your head. You had little white spots adorning your cheeks, shoulders, and back. The last of your demonic changes would be your luscious deer tail- the same color as your hair with the spots peppered over it- so full that you needed to get all your clothes altered for it.

You make your way over to the bar- where you a hoping the man who instigated your wrath sits- stomping your feed unnecessarily hard on the wood flooring. Just as you were hoping for, the man you most wanted to pick-a-bone with sat in his usual spot.

"Angel!"

"Toots? Back from y'er date already huh?"

"You are sooooo not allowed to set me up on anymore dates! That guy was an absolute menace!", you slump into the seat next to his with an exaggerated sigh. Husk promptly placed your favorite drink in front of you. You smiled and lifted your glass to him in thanks.

"Jeez, 'm sorry toots. I gotta ask- what'd Mikey do that pissed ya off so bad?"

You took a deep breath and closed your eyes, trying not to picture your atrocious dinner date. "He ordered my dinner for me.", you spat as if it was the most egregious wrong ever done to you.

Angel and Husk stared at you with unreadable expressions, glancing at each other before quickly diverting their eyes back to you.

Maniacal laughter suddenly rang out from the other side of the bar- Alastor. You had not even noticed him when you first came in- if he had been there at all. You had a decent relationship with The Radio Demon, you mostly interacted at dinner but had the occasional chat in the library. He seemed to get along better with you than he did most of the other residents-save for Nifty and Charlie- you assumed that was due to being a deer like he was. Herd mentality and all you supposed. Now though, his laughter was grating on your already taut nerves. "Something funny you coot?" Angel's and Husk's eyes widened at your jab- no one had the balls to insult Alastor right to his face like that.

"Yes, very much so Darling. Did it ever cross your mind that perhaps he was just being polite? Ordering a ladies meal used to be the chivalrous thing to do.", he smiled wider at you as you narrowed your eyes at him.

"OK boomer, was it also 'chivalrous'(you used air quotes with your finger) to order her a salad instead of the wings and fries she wanted? The next man who has the audacity to order my food for me will become my meal instead!" You huffed and downed the rest of your drink, glaring over at your fellow deer.

He chuckled smoothly but relented his argument "No, I suppose you are right- that was not the proper way to go about it." You gave him a cocky smile before he continued "However, I must say that you...younger generation of ladies... give up so quickly. Running at the very first small inconvenience." He folded his hands and rested his chin on them, eyeing you mischievously.

"Well, SOOOORRRYY for having standards. Us younger generation ladies are not impressed by minimal effort and do not abide by the misogynist tendencies you old geezers put out", you laced your voice with as much venom as you could. "Mikey can take his Terry Crews in White Chicks vibes and fuck right off!"

Alastor eyed you thoughtfully,"Would you care to join me for a night out on the town my dear? Perhaps having a bit of fun will lighten your mood."

Now it was your turn to laugh,"Sorry gramps, but I fail to see how chaperoning you for your daily nightcap will lift my spirits."

"Hmmm, I suppose I will just need to show you how The Lost Generation cuts loose. Get dressed in something you can move in Darling." He was challenging you, you could see it in that smug grin on his face. Who were you to not indulge the old man?

"Give me 15 minutes.", you smirked at him and raced upstairs to your room. You have been saving a lacy, black party dress for a special occasion, now seemed like the perfect time to break it out of your closet. You would pair it with a pair of blood red pumps for a pop of color, wearing lipstick of the same shade to bring it all together.

You swagger down the stairs to meet up with Alastor at the front door. His smile widens ever so slightly as his eyes apprise you. "You look lovely Sha.", he says sweetly as he takes your hand in his, kissing your knuckles tenderly. "Shall we?" He tucks your arm through his and guides you out the door.

You walk in silence for a time, Alastor humming softly to himself. You finally speak up "So, what old saloon are you taking me to?", you smile coyly up at him hoping to ruffle his feathers a bit.

"We are headed to my favorite jazz club Little Fawn", he snickers at your scowl. You hated when he called you that, it was because of your spots. But you were just a different breed of dear- you weren't a fawn! The nickname made you feel like a child. You spent the rest of the walk in silence again- Alastor resumed his humming while you pouted.

The outside of the club was inconspicuous, an old building made of brick and wood with no windows. Just a large, metal door at the center. Upon your arrival a small eyelet slid over to inspect you two, The eyes on the other side widened upon seeing Alastor and hastily opened the door. Once inside, you walked down a short hallway and through another metal door.

The inside of the club was a vast contrast to what the outside was like. It was lively, bodies dancing every which direction and a live band played passionately on stage on the far side. The room was decorated in vibrant reds and golds. A long, wooden bar sat to your left. You could smell the tang of bourbon and puffs of smoke, getting a hint of sweat from all the bodies swinging around on the dance floor.

"Shall I order you a drink? Or would you prefer to do that yourself? I wouldn't want to insult you.", Alastor chortled as he walked you over to the bar. You rolled your eyes at him "What are you drinking?" He raised a brow at you. "I am drinking rye whiskey. I am not sure if that will be to your tastes Fawn."

"Hey, I'm sure I can handle anything you dish out Flapdoodle. I bet I can go drink for drink with you even.", you challenged. Maybe you could wipe that ever-present smirk off his smug face if you could get the old man to pass out. You could handle a couple of whiskey drinks.

Alastor hummed as he regarded you, "Very well, if you insist!", he turned to the bartender "Double rye on the rocks please!" You blanched, double? You were not expecting to be drinking doubles, but if Alastor could handle them then you had a good chance right? You took a sip of your drink, it tasted of spice and dark chocolate and had a pleasant burn on its way down your throat. You were sure if you sipped it you would be fine.

However, Alastor had other plans as he swallowed the entire contents of his drink in one go. Your mouth fell open in shock as you stared at him. Fuck, this isn't going the way you planned. Timidly, you brought your own drink to your lips and swallowed the rest of it, shuddering at the burn. Alastor watched you all the while, and promptly ordered two more drinks. This drink was sipped, but was still drank much faster than you planned.

After a while you started to feel the effects of the alcohol, your body relaxing. You started to sway to the music, a soft smile gracing your lips. "Would you do me the honor of joining me on the dance floor my dear?", Alastor asked as he took your hand, leading you out to the middle of the dancing crowd.

He placed your left hand on his shoulder, keeping your other hand held in his. His free hand held you closely by the waist and he began to swing you around to the beat. You stumbled along, if he weren't holding you so securely you would have ended up on the floor and the alcohol was not doing you any favors. "Oh dear, you a very bad at this!", he teased you. You glared back up at him "Well maybe if you would slow down instead of throwing me around like a lunatic I would be better!", you snapped. He chuckled, but slowed down enough that you could keep up and learn the dance. But once you seemed to get your bearings he sped up again.

This continued all night- the song would change and he would slow down so you could learn the new dance but speed up once you got it. All the while, the only thing you had to drink was whiskey. It did not take long for you to be truly drunk, your vision starting to spin and your movements becoming clumsy. Your legs were killing you, you had definitely worn the wrong shoes for this activity.

"Please excuse me for a second.", you smiled up at Alastor and walked off the dance floor. You exited out a back door you saw people use to take smoke breaks to get some fresh air. You leaned back against the wall, closing your eyes to help concentrate on breathing evenly. You heard the door open beside you but chose to ignore it until you felt a hand on your cheek. You opened your eyes to see Alastor standing over you, his eyes carefully scanning your face. "You truly are as beautiful as a magnolia in May.", he stated before slowly lowering his face to yours.

You gasped into the kiss, losing all train of thought. Weren't you supposed to be rivals? The new vs. the old? In this moment, you no longer cared. He continued holding your face as you grabbed the lapels of his jacket as the kiss continued, it was making you dizzy.

Oh no, you are not just dizzy from the kiss- the alcohol is making it worse. Your stomach started to twist uncomfortably and you had to roughly push Alastor away from you before you turned to the wall and puked your guts up all over yourself. When you were done you stumbled back, vision quickly fading. The last thing you remember before succumbing to complete darkness is a pair of strong arms catching you and the warmth of a chest cradling you.

You reached consciousness slowly, your senses coming to you one-by-one. Unfortunately, the first thing you registered was extreme thirst followed quickly by a pounding headache. You let out a loud groan, turning over in your bed "Fuck" you grumbled out.

A soft chuckle followed by an all-too-chipper "Good morning!" caught your attention. You glared at Alastor over in a chair before mumbling "I am not in the mood for your bullshit this morning.", burying your face in the pillow.

It took you an embarrassing few seconds to register that he was actually in the room with you and was not just a figment of your imagination sent to torture you. You shot up in the bed, making your head spin again. "What are you doing in my...", you trailed off as you took in your surroundings. You were not in your room. The bed you were in was large, with maroon-colored silk sheets. The room had crimson-colored walls with a grand fireplace, in front of which Alastor sat reading the paper. Behind him, the room gave way to a magnificent forest and swamp that made your breath hitch. You were obviously in Alastor's room.

"Al...what am I doing in your room?", you asked as you slowly looked back over at him, heart ready to beat out of your chest in fear of his answer.

"I did not feel comfortable leaving you alone in your room. You were incredibly drunk, I did not want you to asphyxiate if you were to become ill again. So I brought you here where I could keep an eye on you.", he explained calmly, watching your reaction. Your face burned with shame. You had set out to get The Radio Demon to make a fool of himself, but you had become the fool yourself. You turned away, not wanting to see the amusement that surely danced plainly on his face. When you glanced down you frowned.

"How am I wearing my pajamas?", you asked- the accusation plain to hear in your voice. When you glanced back up, Alastor had walked over to stand at the foot of the bed. "Well, I was not about to let your spew into my bed. So I sent my shadows to your room to retrieve your sleepwear.", he explained matter-of-factly.

"Did they change me too or...?"

"No, I did that.", before you could get upset at that revelation he snapped his fingers and you were suddenly wearing socks. You breathed a sigh of relief, you did not think Alastor would violate your privacy like that but it was nice to have the verification. As you sat there thinking, memories of the night before slowly trickled back into your mind. Alastor had kissed you! But why?

Before you could ask any of the million questions running through your mind he sat at the end of the bed. "Sha, I would like to have a rather important discussion with you if you feel up to it." You nodded and waited for him to continue. "Would you be open to me courting you?"

You stared at him dumbstruck "Huh?" was all you could muster out. Was this really happening? Did Alastor just ask to date you?

"I have been admiring you from afar for some time now. I must admit I am rather taken by you. I enjoy our back-and-forth banter and admire your wit. You are such a strong-minded woman, and are not afraid to speak exactly what you are thinking. I would like the opportunity to explore our relationship a bit further if you assent."

Your jaw hit the floor, you had no idea how to respond. Alastor admired you? He wanted to have a more formal relationship? None of this was making sense to you at the moment but your heart was soaring. You had been hiding your attraction to the demon behind your crude jokes about his age. You'd be lying if you said you would not want to get to know him better as well.

"It is rude to stare Dear.", Alastor grinned at you. You had not stopped gaping at him while you processed your thoughts. "Y-Yes, I would be open to that." You shyly smiled back at him.

"One more thing, how much about your biology do you know?", he asked as he shifted closer to you, closing the distance between you two. "What do you mean?"

"Well, in just a few months the cervid mating season will be upon us.", he explained slowly. You crinkled your brows in confusion. "You arrived in hell very shortly after the last mating season. I was not sure how much about your deer form you had learned. If you find our courting satisfactory...I would very much like to claim you this season." He stared at you intently, searching your eyes for your reaction. He was leaning so far into your space that only a few inches separated you. His want was practically palpable.

Your mind went blank again, at a complete loss for words for the moment. This man was just full of surprises. You felt a myriad of emotions- excitement, fear, anticipation, nervousness. But you wanted it, so badly that it shocked you. But, you did not want him to get any more satisfaction at your expense today. So you smirked, "Only if you can keep up you old geezer."

With that you went to get up and dramatically walk out of the room to leave him with his thoughts. But instead you felt your calf muscles strain and knees buckle underneath you. Your legs were so cramped up, damn shoes! Alastor laughed heartily at you as you flushed tomato red. "You are not quite as limber as you ought to be for your age My Doe. Your endurance could use a bit of work.", he tutted at you helping you to your feet. You stretched your sore legs out a bit until you could at least shuffle around.

Before you could turn away Alastor grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him. "A final tidbit of information- did you know that deer can mate consecutively for 72 hours?", he watched as your eyes widened to saucers, leaning in until his lips just barely caressed the fluff of your ears. "If I were you Ma Petite Biche (My Little Doe), I'd begin stretching."

[ryoshiwaah]

˖ ๋࣭݁ ⭑ Astronomy Lessons 🔭๋࣭⭑.

ᯓ🛸Warnings: a swear word, spelling mistakes and nothing else.

ᯓGenre: fluff, strangers to friends to situationship to idk.

ᯓ🔆Pairing: photographer!Minji x fem!reader

ᯓSynopsis: you're Minji's Sun, muse and best work of art.

ᯓStarring: Haerin as Minji's cousin & Hyein as your little sister.

ᯓ🛰️Word count: 2.9k

a/n: a one shot to feed you guys while we wait for my motivation to bring back Holidays, also the story is heavily inspired by 23.5 (watch it bc it's soooooo good and funny and fluffy), enjoyy!

If Minji was asked how much she loved the Sun on a scale of 0 to 10, she’d say 5, 5.5; sure it helped the plants grow, created the perfect light for photos and much more. The big star was fundamental to humans and the solar system, the whole thing was named after it too!

Spending half of her life in a darkroom thanks to her photography passion, Minji became sensitive to the sun’s light – She wore caps every day to cover her eyes, she bought so many that seeing her without one was odd, plus, she made space in her wardrobe just for them.

The photographer turned into some sort of vampire, worrying not only her poor mother but also her friends.

Though, she never got tired of, or annoyed at her Sun, you.

Minji basked into the light you emanated just by standing next to her, a warm feeling spread through her every time you got close enough for your shoulder to touch hers, or when you picked her up with your Vespa.

The scooter had a bright yellow color that reflected your personality perfectly: it was named “Sunny the third”. Lame, yes, but she found it cute.

“The third” part was added because that was your third scooter: you broke the first one by trying to race your dad’s car and ended up crashing into it, earning a 3 months grounding and a broken arm.

Sunny the second tragically died by the hands of a thief who, just like you, was a clumsy mess and crashed into a pole; the guy lit it on fire to hide the evidence but failed and burned his hand instead.

He was caught in the act and sent to jail for a week.

Let’s just say that now you guard your scooter from everyone and anyone, even the smallest insect will be “gently flicked away”.

Still, you didn’t miss the opportunity to help others, picking them up and driving them around. You were a kind soul that she couldn’t help but admire from behind her camera lens.

She noticed the way you went at a slow pace whenever she was with you, remembering the very first time she hopped on: tense, anxious – you name it.

Panicked screams left her lips when you speeded through the traffic, making sure to balance both of your weights.

The entire ride to school was chaos accompanied by laughter, your laughter, since Minji took her time to recover every now and then before starting to scream again until her lungs were empty.

After parking in front of the building, she immediately got off and thanked you way too many times before remembering she hadn’t introduced herself – “I’m Minji by the way, Kim Minji.”

“I never heard of you, new student?” You said after taking off your helmet, a bright smile on your face.

Your face matched your voice, sweet and adorable. Minji felt uneasy at how fast her heart was beating, it was a surprise her soul didn’t start levitating from how gorgeous you looked – gravity seemed to be pulling it down when you poked her cheek.

“Helloooo, Earth to Minji!”

“Uh- Huh? Yes. I’m new here.”

“Cool! My name is Lee Y/n, nice to meet you.”

From then on you noticed Minji being a constant presence in your life, not only in school but even in your own home: her cousin, Haerin, was a good friend of your little sister Hyein so every time they hung out, the photographer ended up tagging along.

Her parents forced her to go out, otherwise she would spend all day studying and taking pictures, which meant she locked herself in her darkroom and avoided social interaction with everyone.

Eventually things got always too girly for her, so you invited her over to your room, making the younger girls wonder what happened behind the four walls.

You spent your time watching Minji’s camera roll, gushing and praising her about the amazing photos she took; she would blush and tell you she wasn’t that good, but not so secretly loved hearing you compliment her.

The way your eyes lit up when she showed you the new photos she took, or how you would beg her to take a picture of you was hilarious.

“Oh pleaseee!” Your whine rang in her ear while she worked on the new composition, adjusting the settings of her camera.

“No, Y/n, my life already revolves much around you, stop asking.”

That made you slap the back of her head, a move that she expected since she mindlessly avoided it.

“That’s not true! We barely see each other anymore…”

“We saw each other yesterday and the day before, and the day before the day befo–”

“Okay! Okay! I get it geez.” You scoffed, bringing your knees over on the table you were sitting on, leaning against the wall behind you.

As Minji took pictures of the various objects scattered on the table, claiming that it was contemporary art, you just looked around the room of the photography club: all the artworks of the members were stuck to the wall, creating a cozy atmosphere.

Haerin’s main topic was cats, of course, your friend’s cousin was obsessed with the felines and took pictures whenever she saw one. But a few of them portrayed a girl with curly hair, smiling brightly at the camera.

Hanni’s side of the wall was funny and covered in polaroids, the dates written in red while the notes were in black, some of them were with loved ones, probably family members, some of herself and others of food.

“She could be an influencer.” You mumbled to yourself, before taking a look at Minji’s corner, skipping the other 3 columns of pictures before her.

You felt like witnessing the whole universe before you. 

There were photos of the moon, stars and constellations; Minji had connected the stars with a light blue pen and wrote the names in the corner. The only thing missing was a picture of the sun.

You knew she didn’t like being exposed to it, she had glasses because her eyes couldn’t adjust well to the light, so you guessed that was the reason why she didn’t have a photo of it.

Speaking of sunlight, the right side of your face started to feel hotter due to the light coming from the window. You closed your eyes, enjoying the warm feeling of the rays on your skin.

‘Click’

The familiar sound made you turn to Minji who was pointing the camera towards you, a faint smile making its way to her lips; you saw that expression tons of times, it was the same face she made after taking a good picture. The satisfaction etched in her eyes.

An inaudible gasp left your lips after realizing what happened: after months of begging, Minji finally took a picture of you with her camera, not her phone, her beloved camera!

You looked at the photographer with wide eyes, not knowing if you were dreaming or not.

“Minji?” You asked incredulously, as if she had grown a second head, your body shifting so it leaned closer to hers. Your faces were inches away, noses almost touching.

“Did you really just take a picture of me??”

“No.”

And then she turned back, working on her previous task.

“No? I heard the cick and you were pointing your camera at me.”

“Nope, I think being exposed to the sun kills your brain cells.”

“Wha–”

“Here.”

She interrupted you by sticking her cap on top of your head, changing the size from behind since your head was smaller than hers.

“There there…” She smiled, her dimples showing, as she patted your head. “You should be okay now.”

An exasperated sigh left your lips before you slumped back against the wall, now letting your legs loosely swing from on top of the table. You were rethinking the interaction because where on Earth did that make sense?!

Luckily for Minji, you forgot about the picture the next hour and were too bored to do anything at all, just wanting your friend to clock out from the club.

An hour later you two were out, your body feeling heavy from the sleepiness. “Note to self, never accompany Minji for club activities ever again.”

“Are you sure you can drive?”

Minji’s husky voice snapped you out of your daze. Already knowing where this was going, you reached into your pockets and tossed the taller girl your keys. She caught them with a fond smile before picking you up and sitting you on the scooter.

“I could have climbed it up myself, you know?”

Oh, how that sleepy voice made Minji feel all fuzzy and glad she was alive to hear it, a small thought made its way through her mind: what if one day she would be able to hear it every morning when she woke up… that’d be perfect.

She started humming happily while switching the cap she gave you with the helmet, securing it so it wouldn’t fall off.

“Happy?”

“Hmhm.”

“What made you happy?”

“A sleepy girl that I’m driving home.”

She said casually before thrusting forward and turning on the bike, taking off and heading to your house.

Your arms were secured around her waist and your head was resting on her back; it didn’t take long before you fell asleep, holding tighter on your gir– friend. On your friend.

“Saturn is Haerin’s favorite, I think it’s a basic answer.”

“And why’s that, my dear astronomer?”

It was a Friday night, Minji just crashed at your house like usual and you were discussing planets after staring at your ceiling for too long. It had the planets and some stars scattered around so the conversation started naturally.

“Nowadays Saturn is so mainstream, ugh, people like it for its aesthetic.”

“You’re too harsh, Y/n.”

“What? It’s your favourite planet too?”

Minji scoffed, gently pushing you away from her but you rolled towards her body, making sure that the side of your heads were touching.

“I’ll let you know that I don’t have a favourite planet… They’re just balls in space.”

“It’s like saying that your photos are just colored pieces of paper.”

Your hand wrapped around her wrist, making sure her finger was pointing up at the ceiling, towards Venus. 

“That’s Venus, Taurus’ ruling planet.” then you pointed to another one, making Minji shriek from the suddenness of the movement. “And that’s Mars, Scorpio’s ruling planet.”

You let her arm go, as it rests on the ground again. She’s silent for a few seconds, thinking of what your words meant. You talked about you two’s zodiac signs, there must be a reason.

“Uh… thank you for letting me know?”

You turned your head towards Minji, raising an eyebrow. Why was she acting like she didn’t know about the planets? Her photos were all about astronomy and space.

Plus, you didn’t spend the entire month trying to get all the names right just for her to be unaware of what you were talking about.

“You don’t get it?”

“I fear I don’t, sorry.” The look on her face turned into a sad one when she saw the hope slowly fading from your eyes, but then, a wholehearted laugh left her speechless.

All you could do was exactly that, laugh and slowly roll on the carpet as the realization hit you: all those hours studying to impress Minji were for nothing, because, apparently, the photographer barely knew what zodiac signs and ruling planets were.

“Your photos…” You began as the giggles began to quiet down, leaving you breathless and Minji scared she might have just watched you have a manic episode over heavens knows what.

“Moon phases, the constellations, the stars. I thought you knew all about astronomy.”

Then it hit Minji, it was like a lightbulb turned on in her peanut brain; she sat up and looked down at you.

“Don’t tell me you know all of this because you were trying to impress me.” 

She used the same tone a parent would use when scolding their kid, but decorated with a hint of amusement. Minji was incapable of imagining someone putting so much effort for her, but knowing that you, out of all people, did that, made her whole day and probably year.

In response you remained glued to the wooden ground, staring at the planets on your ceiling, hoping they could tell you what to do, now that your information was useless for the both of you.

“I learned all that for nothing!” You whined, your feet kicking the ground while you threw your little tantrum.

At first Minji chuckled, but then she thought about it and shook your shoulder, making you glare at her. 

“Teach me the secrets of astronomy, I want to understand, no matter how long it takes.”

The astronomy lessons went on for weeks. Even if they were only an excuse to spend more time together, Minji started learning for real, surprising you: not only she was a fast learner, but she was actually interested in the topic.

It was regenerating talking to someone who was so willing to listen, that’s why you never lost a chance to mention even the smallest detail.

You spent so much time together that Minji started to call you her Sun, while only in your mind you thought of her as your Moon; you’d stare at her hoping she would catch you and call you out on it, but instead, your best friend was always focused on the teacher.

Or, in general, something else that wasn’t you.

The probability that you and Minji weren’t aligned anymore made you doubt your own feelings towards her – You noticed it on a wednesday, while eyeing the lunch lady give out food to your sister and Haerin, the cat-like girl talked about her cousin’s birthday coming up.

Your train of thought drifted from the kimbap you were going to ask for, to the photographer, way too quickly.

“3 Kim Minji please…”

The lunch lady raised an eyebrow, already fed up with you. “You mean kimbap.”

“That’s what I said…”

With a roll of her eyes she almost tossed at you your 3 miserable kimbap and called for the next one in line. Confused but not in the mood to deal with old women, you decided to just walk away, food in your hands.

“You said my name, moron.”

The familiar voice startled you, almost making the rice rolls fall from your grip, but you weren’t so careless with food, thankfully.

“Did I– Oh shit, I did.” You blushed after recollecting yourself and your train of thoughts.

“You think about me so much it messes up your social interactions, what a loser.” 

“I overheard your cousin talking about your upcoming birthday and you popped in my mind, miss stubborn.”

“All excuses!” She grinned smugly, now getting in front of you. How she got so dangerously close you didn’t know, but damn she looked good: her hair was put up in a messy bun, while she had a jacket over her school uniform.

Her face was naturally beautiful, but what attracted your eyes were her plump lips.

Before you knew it, she pecked your forehead, stole the kimbap you started eating and ran away, leaving you in the middle of the canteen – a blushing, gay panicking mess, standing there with food in her hands.

The more time passed, the more you started to doubt your knowledge. It seemed like the Sun’s orbit changed, making it move around the now static Moon.

Your infatuation became stronger every day, and you couldn’t deny that Minji felt the same too. But when was she going to make a move, or maybe, when were you going to do something about the growing tension?

Haerin was tired of hearing her cousin ramble for hours about you, she swore Minji said your name so many times that she lost count, even of how many times she spaced out.

Things got worse when you bought the photographer a new camera for her birthday, making her promise to take more photos of you. And she did, of course she did.

If months before you had to beg her on your knees to even turn her camera towards you, now it was the complete opposite; it seemed like she had no other subject to snap photos of than you.

Of course, you thought she was just sticking to her word, her promise, but deep inside you were aware that Minji’s behaviour shifted since her birthday. None of them had the guts to confront one another, so the situation remained…questionable.

To her though, you’d become more than a simple Sun; you were art, her constant inspiration and muse, the deep feelings she nurtured for you could be seen in her photos and the dedication she put in them. 

She spent hours editing out and in anything that could make you the center of the picture, even if that meant learning how to use photoshop, she’d do it for you.

The only person that didn’t notice all of that was the protagonist of the works, you.

Only the ones stopping by for a visit could notice that Minji’s corner changed completely, displaying only certain photos, that of course were space related, carefully arranged around the best snaps she took of Y/n.

A detail, one that could blow up Minji’s aloof and careless facade, exposing her feelings to the world, was the little sentence written at the corner of the photo at the very center.

“My Sun”

Once again, the photographer found herself reconsidering her opinion about the protagonist of the solar system, seeing her reflection into the picture of the Moon that just like Earth, found herself orbiting around the Sun.

🗂️ NJZ masterlist

[lacyscabinet]

reader and ellie williams dating and reader meeting joel for the first time

A/N: HELLO THERE! This is not my best work but stilllllll I wanted to post something, not proofread<3 I'm a little late sorry😞 this was supposed to come out yesterday but I fell asleep on my desk and forgot to press post😭😭😭🙏🏼🙏🏼 begging on my knees for forgiveness, I hope you enjoy<3

NAVIGATION

VERY SHORT. MORE LIKE A BLURB.

TW: DAD JOKES.

MEETING JOEL

Joel. It's just Joel. Ellie talked about him so much it's almost like you know him already, come on, how hard could it possibly-

"Are you okay?" Ellie asks, placing a hand on your shoulder while simultaneously cleaning it from the snow that had settled on your jacket as you two stood outside the porch. It's not like she wasn't at least a little nervous as well, she really wanted her two worlds to blend, and she wasn't completely sure about what Joel's reaction would be, after all, she has never brought someone like you around him before.

"Yes..." You look up at her and smile gently, trying to be brave about this "All good, should we...knock?"

Ellie nods as she keeps her arm around your waist as she walks up the porch, then her bruised and cold knuckles bump against the worn down wooden door, patiently waiting for someone to open it.

Soon enough, a bearded man cracked the door open, a smile plastered on his face as he welcomed you guys into his home. The house was warm, a record muffled by the sound of the crackling fireplace played on his old record player, the dinner table was all ready to sit down and eat whatever he had cooked, and considering the warm scent that floated through the house, it must've been something tasty. He hugs Ellie once he closes the door, and then turns back to you.

"Finally putting a face to the name!" He says, his voice doesn't sound judgmental at all and he introduces himself right after, extending his hand to shake yours.

All throughout, you can feel Ellie's eyes on you, she's probably smiling, watching you two interact and praying that everything will go the right way. Ellie knows he’s been through enough with the world falling apart, and letting someone new into his circle isn’t easy, but so far, everything was going amazingly.

Just as predicted, dinner was amazing: Ellie sat right next to you while Joel stood in front of you, asking questions about you, about your relationship with Ellie. She subtly checks in with you, just a glance, or a quick touch of your hand to reassure you that she’s there. Her thumb runs over your knuckles, soft and comforting, as if to say: “I’ve got this.” You’re still a little nervous meeting Joel, but the feeling of Ellie beside you is grounding, and he has been nothing but kid with you so far. Everything was flowing seamlessly, until...

"Hey girls, listen" he said all of a sudden as he stabbed a carrot with his fork. Ellie looked up at him curiously, her hand resting on your thigh under the table.

"Do you guys want to know my favorite animal?"

Both you and Ellie looked at each other, extremely confused. Lightly chuckling at your reaction, he continued "Before the outbreak, I remember really liking axolotls..."

At that, your and Ellie's confusion only grew wider, while on the other hand, he started grinning, and that's when Ellie realized.

A dad joke was on the way.

"I used to really like them because they were quiet animals, they didn't axolotl questions"

A moment of silence followed as you took in the joke, bursting out laughing a few seconds later, not really because the joke was funny, but more because of the proud smile on his face and Ellie's maroon flushed face.

“You’re gonna scare her off if you keep making jokes like that.” she mumbled as her hands came up to hide her face.

Maybe, in the end, this wasn't as intimidating as it seemed...

Tags!! @livvietalks (another person asked me to be tagged but for some reason it doesn't work 😭) + @autisticintr0vert :)!!! thank u for the support pookies! In case I post something else tonight I'll tag u over there too!!

I've never thought about starting a taglist but if anyone is interested let me know in the comment section! I also write for yellowjackets and (soon!! trust!!!) for arcane 🤍

[imjustdreamingig]

Isn't that sweet, I guess so

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

summary: The secret's out, Steve's proud of himself, and you can't seem to keep your mouth shut

A/N: chat there is no way I put out 2 fic in the past week, this has never happened to me before! yay everyone cheer. again, i have no idea where this story is going how far im gonna go, i def want to try writing other stuff and idk if this is the best place to put and end to whatever this series is but again, we shall see i guess. thank you all so much on the love on my last two works you have no idea what that means to me! please please PLEASE send me asks or comment what you'd like me to write next or if you want a pt4 i need help people

warnings: sfw, swearing, fluff, idiots who like each other

Facing your fears is tough. No matter what it is, no one would actually choose putting themselves through a situation in which they know would cause them extreme distress. For some that may be going on a rollercoaster, interacting with a clown, going into a dark forrest alone, it could even be making a phone call by yourself to schedule a doctor's appointment (which is a valid fear to have, thank you very much.)

And here you were, facing your fears: being sat in your living room with Steve Harrington 3 feet away from you for an extended period of time. It's only been about 15 minutes, where no talking has happened since minute two.

You hope you can get to 30 minutes without fainting.

As you attempted to focus on the book in front of you, Jane Austen's words, who usually kept your focused for hours on end, were not being absorbed by you in the slightest. How could they, when Steve fucking Harrington was in your house.

Steve is the type of guy who Jane Austen would write about, you thought, eyes flickering towards him as he hunched over his book, face crinkled in concentration, trying to understand said author's musings.

The swoop of his hair, the two moles near his neck, his deep, beautiful, chocolate eyes, his gorgeous smile, and my god those arms? Yep, Jane would be absolutely obsessed with him.

"God, why did I agree to do this book?" You are snapped out of your daze at Steve's words. "What do you mean?", you replied. He gave you a look that can only be described as "seriously?"

"I mean, that I can barley understand what any of these characters are saying half the time, and honestly, it's a bit boring. I thought you would have better book recommendations," he said, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his face.

A scoff left your mouth before you could stop it. "Excuse me, are you actually hating on Pride and Prejudice, the best romance story of all time, the romance story, period." You leaned over and snatched his book. "I mean, come on! You are literally only 6 pages in, you can't just judge it that quickly, you haven't even gotten to the good parts yet!", you exclaim.

Steve watched you with an amused look on his face, unbeknownst to you, who kept rambling on, trying to convince Steve this book was worth continuing.

"— and Elizabeth, she is just funny, like actually hilarious. There is one part where she basically tells someone that I'd rather not be wasting my air talking to someone like you, like please, how did she even come up with that? Also, I'm just obsessed with this proper English style of speaking, or writing I guess, because they're basically talking shit but covering it up with fancy words! And when—"

"You talk a lot, don't you?"

You look up from the book and towards Steve, eyes widening slightly, realizing you had indeed been talking too much.

"One of my greatest faults, some may say, and by faults I mean my mom, but she only tells me this when we're arguing, so..." You glance away from Steve's face for a little reprieve. God, he's so hot.

"Well, like a good partner," you continue. "I'm trying to help you get some of this project done, and maybe if Robin were here, she could've helped," you defended yourself, crossing your arms, "which I'm still confused about, by the way. You said something about her telling you earlier how I invited you guys and some other people to work on the project together, but then she doesn't show?"

Steve leans back in his chair, also crossing his arms. You glance down for a quick second and send a quick thank you to anyone who's that Steve is wearing a tight shirt that beautifully enunciates his biceps. Or maybe you should be mad at them, you don't know yet.

"Maybe it's the fact that she noticed, like I did, that it's been a month since this project was assigned and we haven't even started," Steve countered, "which is unlike you, you usually want to get stuff done ASAP."

You look at him in confusion. "How the fuck do you know that?"

Steve smirks, "I also happen to know that you don't have a sister, thanks to that lovely dinner with your mom." You shake your head in disbelief, mentally making a note to yell at your mom later.

"Isn't that what you said one of the many times I asked you to work on the project?" Steve looked so amused with himself, all cocky and proud that he had uncovered your lie. Your brain tried desperately to come up with a realistic enough explanation, but nothing was coming up.

You throw your hands up in defeat. "Ok, fine! I lied! Is it just so hard for you to believe that maybe, just maybe, not everyone in that high school wants to spend time with you outside of it?" Oh my God, why the fuck would you say that, you screamed internally.

Steve stared at you for a second before letting out a chuckle. " You know, I did think of that actually, but only for a bit." He reaches out for the book and grabs it from your grasp, flipping to a random page.

"You can only run away from a guy so many times before he catches a hint," he peers over at you, " and I mean literally, you're a fast runner, did you ever do track?"

"Yeah, in middle school," you answer quickly. Steve lets out a hum of agreement before placing his attention back on the book. You open your mouth, about to quip about being careful to not rip the pages when he speaks again. "I know I'm dumb, but I'm not an idiot, ya know?"

Your gaze snaps to his face. "Steve, I don't think you're dumb." He doesn't look too convinced. "Eh, I think you do. But you're interesting, you took me a lot longer to figure out than the others since girls just typically throw themselves at me."

You make a face of disgust, "Ok, you sound like a total prick, you know."

"Yep, heard it after I said it, but that's not the point here." He point his finger at you, "You have a crush on me."

You splutter out a sound of indignation. "Hello, what?" In your head, fire alarms are sounding. It's a code red, all hell is breaking loose. "Pfft, no I absolutely do not."

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Then how else do you explain the running away when you see me anywhere at school? You always have an insane excuse why we're not able to meet up to start the project, which some are hilarious," he admits, "but you've got me complaining about not doing homework, look what you've done to me!"

At this point you've gone silent, mouth agape with an excuse stuck in your throat refusing to come out. Steve's expression has changed, his eyes bore into yours with earnest, almost as if he's anticipating a certain answer, hoping for it. "So?"

You muster all the courage you have left and just when you're about to respond, Steve interrupts you again for like, the 15th time.

"Anyways, I've to get going, have some things to do and whatever." He gets up, shrugs on his jacket and then places his books in his backpack. You get up too, having absolutely no clue how to tell him not to go, that you want him to stay. "Steve, what do you mean?"

He glances over at you, "Nothing, I just have to go. I'm a busy guy." He starts making his way to your front door, leaving you behind in the kitchen, trying to understand what the fuck just happened. First, he accuses you of having a crush on him, which you do, and then he just thinks he can leave?

Oh, absolutely not.

With a new wave of determination, you catch up to Steve just as he's finishing putting on his shoes. "Say thanks to your mom for me for dinner, it was great," he says as he grabs the door handle. You don't let him continue with whatever stupid thing he was going to say next.

"Listen Harrington, I don't know what the fuck just happened back there, but the fact you think can just, leave after dropping a bomb like that is ridiculous," you say, glaring at him in annoyance, and Steve's just staring back at you with that stupid, stupid, smirk that has not left his face since the moment he stepped foot in here.

"So what if I did like you, huh? What if I did have a crush on you? Because I do, but that, quite frankly, is none of your business, none of your concern, actually, so... yeah." Steve is looking at you and you're looking at him, a little out of breath after your declaration. You don't have the energy right now to fully process what you just said.

All of a sudden, Steve seems to break character, the smugness gone, replaced with subtle endearment. He leans down and presses a swift kiss on your cheek before whispering, "Well, it's a good thing I like you too." He straightness back up and says, "I told you I knew you were different, you're a mystery. You're lucky running away seemed to work on me, by the way. I don't think it would for everyone else," he says while you stare at him in shock. You've been rendered silent once again, with nothing but the thought that Steve likes you back, repeating over and over again.

You clear your throat before speaking, "Well! Um, yay?" You truly have no idea what to do right now. Steve chuckles at your reaction, like he can't believe his words have caused you of all people, who continuously talk and talk and talk, to not have anything profound to say for once. He's kind of into it.

Steve grabs your hand and encases it with the other. "Come over to my house tomorrow after school, I'll drive you. We can work on the project and you know, talk, if you want." You nod fervently, "Yeah, yeah ok."

He smiles and drops your hand. "I really do have to go though, I wasn't making that up," he remarks as he opens the front door. "Oh, sure, that's fine," you reply. You hold open the door for him and watch as he descends the steps and makes his way towards his car. You watch him, holding onto the door for dear life.

As Steve gets into the car, he looks over at you and waves, "I'll see you tomorrow!" You wave back and yell back, "Yeah, tomorrow!" You don't go back inside until the car is out of sight. As you shut the door, you press your back against it, trying to wrap your head around what exactly happened in the last few hours.

Holy shit, you though, Steve Harrington likes me. Steve fucking Harrington. You let out an involuntarily squeal of excitement and immediately regret doing it as your mother calls down from upstairs. "Mija, are you ok? What happened?" Hearing her voice reminds you of her involvement over the events that transpired tonight.

Putting your happiness on hold for a moment, you start to storm up the stairs. "Mom!", you yelled, "How could you embarrass me like that, asking him to stay over for dinner, you know how I feel about him, I just about fainted 5 times throughout the night, how does that make you feel!? You almost killed me an—"

You would thank your mom later, because ultimately she helped, but for now, you'll stick to this.

[for-your-modesty-dude]

Reentry Pt. 2

Part 1

A/N: So, funny story... I wasn't planning on posting another part today already, but I started to write and this just fell out. It just kinda... wrote itself. It's a short one and has not been beta'ed, so please excuse any grammatical/spelling errors. I sat down and banged it out in like an hour and a half. I'm really excited to explore this little coffee shop au, and I think it's a world I'm gonna exist in for awhile, if you all don't mind. I have other WIPs to work on, too, but I think this guy is gonna stay a steady constant for a bit. Bc I'm in love with this version of Eddie rn. As always, if you've got suggestions or requests, send them my way - I don't have a solid plot for this yet except a few scenes I knew need to be included. Anyway, thank you all for reading and making me feel seen. I love y'all sm. - Hy <3

p.s. please tell me if you want to be added to my taglist!

Summary: Eddie is having lots of doubts and struggling with day-to-day activities. You can't blame him - 5 years of incarceration will really throw a wrench in who you thought you were, but maybe a friend can help.

Warnings: Mentions of drugs and doing time.

Word Count: ~1.7k

You knew that Eddie had been avoiding having that homecoming dinner, but he couldn’t avoid it forever. The day of his interview at the bar, Steve and Dustin popped into the bookstore as they often did. You were just reorganizing some shelves when you heard their bickering as they entered - those two never stopped, no matter how old they got. 

“I’m telling you, man. Eddie is not feeling a dinner party right now. And he’s got that big interview later, I can’t just spring a surprise party on him like that. Plus, we don’t know if everyone is even available. Let it go, we’ll do something lowkey next weekend or something.”

“Steve,” Dustin started, with that tone of faux patience like he was talking to a toddler, “if he gets the job, he won’t be available for a dinner party next weekend, you’re aware of this, right?”

You just listened to the argument that Eddie clearly didn’t want to have a party right now. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, Steve was a good friend. Dustin was, too, just in a different way. They both wanted the best for their friend - but it was uncharted territory for all of them. You were pulled out of your thoughts by the sound of your name, and you turned with something of a surprised expression and a “hi!”

“Are you available for a dinner party tonight?” Dustin asked, straight to the point, and Steve had to add his side, too. 

“Do you think it’s appropriate for us to have a surprise party for a guy who is clearly struggling with rejoining society when he doesn’t seem to want to be around crowds?”

“Woah, there, gentlemen,” you held your hands up in surrender. “Yes,” you pointed at Dustin, “but I’m with Steve,” you pointed to Steve next, and Dustin let out a loud groan.

“How is he ever supposed to assimilate if he can’t even have dinner with a group of his friends?” Dustin insisted. 

He had something of a point, he did, but something about startling Eddie like that just didn’t feel right. He was so antsy, so on edge. You hadn’t known the guy before prison, but that didn’t matter. The person you’d started to get to know these past two weeks didn’t seem like he’d feel very comfortable with a surprise of any sort, much less a surprise dinner party. 

“You’re right. But you’re going about it wrong,” you said honestly. “I think the answer is to plan a dinner party and give him full warning of when it’s happening, where, with whom, and what’s on the menu. Yes, I agree he needs social interactions to properly assimilate, but let’s not overwhelm him all at once. He’s been so jumpy since I’ve met him. That’s not a guy you want to surprise.”

Steve gestured at you like he’d been trying to make this point to Dustin the whole time. Dustin, not one to back away, let out a rather dramatic sigh. “Fine. Whatever, fine. But only because you’re not going to help me if I do it tonight.”

That seemed to be enough for Steve. 

“We can do it here, if you’d like,” you suggested. “I can close the bookstore early, and we can use the cafe’s kitchen to finish up whatever dinner we want to make. Or we can order a pizza or something. But it could be nice, I’ll bring out the beanbags and stuff, and we can do it in the game room. Just a nice dinner for him to see all of his friends in one place again, but not overwhelming by being too formal or at anyone’s house. This way, if he wants to go home early, he can.”

There was a silence as both men considered this, and then they both nodded, seemingly satisfied with the idea. 

“Yeah, that’s cool. It’s a good idea. We’ll see when everyone is available and then get back to you.” Dustin nodded, and Steve gave you a grateful smile. 

When both of them lingered a bit in front of you, you rolled your eyes. “The usual, nerds?”

Steve guffawed as he and Dustin followed you into the coffee shop, “him, sure. I’m not a nerd,” he insisted, but you just gave him a look that shut him up. 

You got them their drinks and sent them on their way, helping a few customers before putting your apron away and starting towards the book shelves again. Before you could make it there, you heard the jingling of the bells above the door, and turned to find a disheveled and breathless Eddie. You just pulled your apron back on and hurried to the register with a smile. 

“Hey you!” You greeted, but he looked a little frantic, so your smile faltered. “Everything okay?”

“I-” he took a steadying breath, “I couldn’t go through with it. The interview. I stood at the door to the bar, and it was like all the blood drained out of me, and- I couldn’t do it.”

He nearly tugged his hair out as he stood before you, and you put a hand on his arm across the counter, “hey. Hey, it’s okay. Let me brew you a cup of tea, and we can go back and talk in the game room, yeah?”

He let go of his hair and nodded, eyes big and vulnerable. He didn’t know why he’d ended up here, telling you this of all people. Maybe it was that you didn’t have expectations of him, after all, you’d never met him before his stint. It felt easier to confide in someone who didn’t know who he was, or who he had been.

You put lots of care into brewing him the right blend of tea, sweetening it to his taste and then motioning for him to follow you. You hung up your apron and handed him the steaming cup, leading him into the bookstore and then back to the game room. It was decorated for the D&D campaigns your friends liked to run, and had a large table with comfy chairs around it, but most importantly, it had a comfy couch against one wall, and had a door that closed and locked for privacy. No one had rented the room out today, so you let him in and closed the door behind you. You gestured for him to take a seat, which he did, and then took the seat beside him, facing him. 

“You know it’s okay, right?” You asked him softly, “it’s okay to not have been okay enough to go in there.”

He sipped carefully from the cup and shrugged. “I’m not usually like this. People have never scared me before. That was, like, my whole thing. I was the town freak, and proud of it.” He paused, “well - not proud of it, exactly, but I wore it like a badge of honor. And now I can’t even walk into a bar for a job interview? How am I ever supposed to hold a job if I can’t even interview?”

You let the question hang in the air for a moment before responding, “Eddie, it’s normal that life feels wrong to you right now. It’s normal that you’re having a hard time doing things you never struggled with before. You know that, right? You really need to know that.”

Your tone seemed to ring true to him, and he took a deep breath, but nodded. “Yeah. I know that.”

“Good,” you smiled gently. “So, wanna interview here?”

Despite your previous offer that morning, he seemed taken aback by your genuine offer. He studied you for a moment, as if he expected you to hesitate or take it back, but eventually nodded. 

“Okay, how about tomorrow? Wednesdays around 8:30 there’s no one here, we can sit and have a drink and a pastry together and I can interview you, and you can ask me all the questions you want about the job. How’s that sound?”

Again, he seemed truly surprised by your kindness, and took a moment to agree. Really, he was just curious about you. He’d never met anyone as kind, as patient. Sure, he knew his friends loved him, and they really were trying, but there was something about the fact that they knew the old Eddie that put him off. It made him feel insecure - like they were just waiting to get him back. That they didn’t really know this Eddie. This guy was a stranger to them, and he couldn’t blame them. So your kindness to this Eddie, not pity, not walking on eggshells, but genuine kindness… it struck him.

“Yeah,” his voice cracked just a touch when he answered, and he cleared his throat. “Yeah, tomorrow, 8:30. I’ll bring my resume. You’re positive this is okay?”

“Yes, Eddie,” you said with a playfully exasperated smile, “I’m positive. It’ll be great. And who knows, maybe we’ll be coworkers,” you grinned at him.

He couldn’t help but to grin back, and something inside of him settled. He sipped at his tea again, and you just sat there together awhile, mostly in silence but also discussing the two books he’d gotten from you two weeks ago, and the books he wanted to try next. When you got up, you led him to the shelves to help him choose his next two. You promised he could pay for one, but you wanted to gift him the other, and he felt pretty special that you wanted to do so for him.

When he left, he seemed considerably less upset than he had when he’d arrived, and honestly, you’d taken that as quite the compliment to your comforting skills. Eddie was incredibly kind, so caring, and wanted so badly to succeed somehow in life. You hoped that maybe with this job, you’d somehow help him - that he’d find a home here, at the shop. You were rather looking forward to the interview with him, though you pretty much planned on hiring him anyway, no matter how the interview went. 

You had no way of knowing, but Eddie had gone back to Steve’s that day, seeming more himself than Steve had seen him in the time he was back. He didn’t know what had put Eddie so at ease, but he was grateful for it. He hoped it would last.

Taglist:

@am0iur @ali-r3n @hellmastereddie @ziggeddie @nojamsonmytoast @seedlingghost @loveu2themoonandsaturn @aliceheart247 @littlemissholy @daydreampending @justalotoffanfiction @midnightdragonzero @iyskgd @girlwedontcare @micheledawn1975 @kaita

[mythica0]

Rewarding revenge

🎂: epic the musical

🧁: Hermes

🍫:Odysseus

Summary: Hermes has tickled Odysseus one too many times for his liking. Time for a little payback.

A/N; thank you to the anon who gave me this idea! If you see this I hope it’s to your liking! I’m not super proud of the ending but whatever. Also, yay, more shameless lee Hermes! Enjoooyyy :3

Cw: mild swearing, really intense tickles! (But don’t worry, he enjoys every second of it.)

Rewarding revenge

It was another day on the ship, and Odysseus was thinking.

He had just had another interaction with Hermes a few days prior, and like he usually did, Hermes had decided to tickle the shit out of him.

While he didn’t.. hate it.. it was still annoying, and he wanted a bit of revenge.

So, he sent up a hopefully non-conspicuous prayer to summon Hermes.

When Hermes got the message, simply asking to hang out, he was definitely suspicious, but also amused and endlessly curious. So, he decided to go. Might be fun, after all! And Hermes is always up for some fun.

So, later that evening, when Odysseus was spending some time in his room, Hermes appeared.

“Hey, friend! I got your little prayer!”

Odysseus was honestly a little shocked that worked. He sat up in his bed, gently patting the space next to him.

“Ah, Hermes! Come, sit!”

Hermes smiled brightly and sat next to the soldier. “Well, how do you do?”

“Ah, I’m well. You?”

“I’m good as well! I must say, it’s not often I get a request just to hang out! I’m quite delighted you wished to spend time with me!”

Odysseus chuckled a bit. “Ah, well, you’ve been nice to me, and you’re pleasant enough company.”

“I know I am, thanks for noticing!” Hermes winked, playfully posing in a showy manner.

Odysseus laughed. He had summoned Hermes for ulterior motives, but he actually was quite funny.

He scooted a little closer, hoping Hermes wouldn’t notice. Hermes did notice, but he pretended he didn’t. He was curious! Wanted to see where this was going.

“So, what did you want to talk about, friend?” Hermes asked, still grinning.

“Ah, nothing in particular. Just whatever comes to mind.”

“I see, just a causal chat! Always love one of those- I’m quite the conversationalist!”

The joking remark got another laugh out of Odysseus, which caused Hermes to grin proudly. He was always happy to make someone laugh.

“That you are.” Odysseus got a little closer again.

“did you have free time to come down here? Or are you skipping out on your duties?” Ody asked, a playfully teasing tone to his voice.

“Hmm, not telling~” Hermes shrugged and then sing-songed in response.

Odysseus laughed again. “So you are skipping out? I mean, I imagine you’re quite the busy god, with all the various domains you have.”

“True! But I’m also quite speedy, don’t you forget! Nah, I had some time.” Hermes revealed with a laugh if his own.

“Ah, well that’s good. Wouldn’t want to distract you from your job, now would we?”

“That we would not.” Hermes laughed again, his little squeaky giggle.

Odysseus posed a question, seemingly out of nowhere. “So, Hermes- do you like to laugh?”

Hermes seemed a little surprised at the sudden question, but answered nonetheless. He had a feeling this might be why he was actually summoned.

“Why, of course I do! Who doesn’t?”

“Ah, that’s good. Let me help you with that!” Without any further warning, the captain snapped his arms around the god and started to scribble against his ribs.

Hermes immediately bursted into happy giggles, not trying to hold back in the least.

“Ehehehe- Ohohody! Ahahaha!” He called a bit, squirming slightly.

“What’s wrong? Can’t take what you dish out?”

“Ehehehehehaha! Ohoho, thahat tihihickles! Ehehehe!” Hermes giggles were bubbly and almost childish in nature, such a purely joyful sound that it made Odysseus laugh along with it.

“Ha! It’s about time I got a little payback!”

Hermes could easily get out of this. Easily. He was very powerful, after all. But he didn’t want to, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. But. He wanted to see if Ody could figure it out on his own.

“So, how’s it feel to be on the other end, huh?”

“Tihihickly!” Hermes snarked, an obvious statement, for amusement. It worked as intended, getting a small amused huff from Odysseus.

“Well no shit, Sherlock. That’s the point.”

To accentuate his words, Odysseus moved his hands to Hermes’ tummy, starting to press lightly on the surface.

Hermes giggles immediately increased in pitch, such a joyful, silly, sugar-sweet sound that Odysseus couldn’t help but laugh along. 

“Eeehahahahaha ohoho nohoho, dohohont doho thahat- ehehehehehe!”

“You know, you could probably escape easily if you really wanted to.” Odysseus commented, successfully realizing the thing Hermes wasn’t even trying to hide.

“Ihihi knohow! Ehehehehe!”

“So, why aren’t you? Do you perhaps like this?”

Hermes nodded, gleeful and giddy as he laughed. “Yehehehehes! Ehehahahahaha-! Tohook yohou lohong ehenohough toho fihigure ohout!” Hermes teased slightly, never one to hold his tongue.

“Oh, really? Are you in any position to give me sass?” Odysseus teased, getting far more into the role now that he knew his friend was enjoying it. He pressed down harder, vibrating clawed hands into Hermes’ stomach.

Hermes squealed, a bouncy, bubbly laugh falling freely from his chest. “Eeee! Ahahahaha thahahat reheheally tihihickles ehehehehehe!”

“Good. Maybe that’ll teach you not to sass me.” Odysseus didn’t let up, still pressing vibrating claws into the god’s belly, making him laugh giddily, his wings flapping slightly.

Odysseus’ eyes followed the motion of the white feathers, and he smirked. He took one hand and moved it up, grabbing one of the wings behind his ears and starting to rub the feathers in between his fingers.

Hermes squealed, a high pitched laugh leaving him. “EEEE! NOHOHOHO-! NOHOHOT THEHE WIHINGS!”

“Oh? Not the wings? Not these little wings right here?” Seeing how horribly it tickled the god, Odysseus brought up his other hand to grab the matching wing in the other side and do the same thing.

Hermes was completely lost to his laughter, chest and stomach shaking from the force of it as small tears formed in his eyes. That tickled so! Bad!

“EEEHAHAHA PLEHEHEASE, OHOHODYYY!” His laughter was squeaky and happy, and Odysseus found that it got more and more contagious the longer it went on, not being able to stop himself from laughing along.

“Hehe, that’s a pretty contagious laugh you’ve got there.”

Hermes was too busy laughing and squirming to reply, his sanity starting to slip in the best way from the ticklish sensation. It was driving him mad, unrelenting tingles racing across his wings and causing fluttering laughter to swarm in his belly.

“What’s wrong? Too ticklish to speak?” Odysseus emphasized the word with a teasing lilt, causing a slight blush to form on Hermes’ face.

The room was filled with the happy, bubbly giggles of the god of messages, squealing laughter echoing from him as his very sensitive wings were assaulted with happy, tingly sensations.

“EEE OHODY PLEHEHEHEASEE!” He begged through his loud, squeaky laughter, only partially true. Because he could probably get away if he really wanted to, although it might be harder considering how weak he was from laughter.

Odysseus just chuckled. “Tickle tickle tickle~” he spoke with a teasing lilt, and he could swear that Hermes squeaked at the words.

Hermes was overwhelmed but at the same time so happy. The tickles were driving him crazy and he didn’t even care, because it was so much fun, sending waves of pure joy through him with every wheezing laugh, every contraction of the muscles in his tummy and sides. Tears of joy had fallen at the point, trailing past the shaded boundary from his helmet.

“EEHAHAHA OHODY PLEHEHEASE STAHAHAP! EHEHEHEHEE!”

“I don’t know.. you tickled me first. Twice.”

“IHIM SOHORRRYYY PLEHEHEHEASEE!”

He was absolutely hysterical with laughter, face starting to hurt from being stretched into such a wide smile for so long. His thoughts were so foggy, his brain thoroughly turned to mush from happiness that he couldn’t even think straight enough to use his powers to get away. He loved it so much but at the same time he couldn’t take anymore!

Sensing that Hermes was getting a little overwhelmed, Odysseus decided to give him a small breather, just lightly tapping against his hips to keep him giggling.

Hermes took the chance to greedily take in air, letting his warm face cool down.

“Hehehehehe.. ohoho myhy gohods.. ehehehe- thahat wahahas aha lohot.”

“Oh, did you think we were done? Oh no no no, I don’t plan on stopping any time soon. I want you to be an absolute puddle of laughter by the time I’m through.”

Hermes eyes sparkled with excitement, hidden by the shade of his helmet, a few giddy giggles falling from him. He was honestly excited by the idea, even though he had just been wrecked within an inch of his life, he still wanted more.

Ody smirked as he saw the excitement ripple through the god of speed. “Oh, what was that~? Did that excite you?”

Hermes nodded, still unashamed for his love of being tickled.

Odysseus chuckled in response, before responding with a teasing lilt that caused more giddy butterflies to flutter within Hermes, making him giggle more than he already was from the light taps on his hips.

“Any last words before I make you hysterical again~?”

Hermes thought for a moment, before shaking his head, eager to get on with it.

Odysseus nodded and then started with kneading his tummy, making him burst into giddy laughter immediately.

“Ahahahahahaha! YohOU ahahare reheheally gohood ahat thahahat- EE!” He complained and complimented at the same time, half protesting but not really meaning a word of it.

“Oh, why thank you!” He grinned smugly, and then, just to be evil, he moved his hands to attack Hermes’ underarms and started to blow raspberries all over his belly.

“OHOHO NOHO- EEE! Dohohont dohoho THahahAT-!”

Odysseus felt his inner father emerging, putting on a sort of playful act and making silly noises as he blew raspberry after raspberry onto the messenger’s tummy, using his beard to add an extra layer of ticklishness.

“Omnomnom! This belly is really tasty!” He made little growling and nomming sounds, which made Hermes laugh even harder from amusement at the silly act.

Hermes was absolutely hysterical with laughter, kicking his feet slightly to try and expel the intense giddy energy rippling through him. Each raspberry sent waves of laughter and tingles across his belly, and it didn’t go away. It lingered, and then layered with each new raspberry or nibble, growing more and more ticklish as time went on. Hermes was crying with laughter and happiness, the feeling so intense and so amazing.

He squeaked and squealed as Odysseus blew a raspberry on his lower tummy, then on each side, then right over his bellybutton, then on his ribs, all over his torso, leaving waves upon waves of giddy tingles.

“AHahahahahHEHA! Ihihit tihihickles sohoho BaHAD EhehehehEHEHAHA!” His chest and stomach were shaking and bouncing from his laughter, the wide, giddy smile never leaving his face, his genuine happiness being contagious to Odysseus.

Odysseus chuckled as well, unable to stop himself at hearing the silly, contagious sound of Hermes’ laughter. He decided to lower the intensity for a bit, moving his hands down to start scribbling behind his knees.

Hermes kicked slightly on instinct, but he didn’t try to truly escape. His hysterical, squeaky laughter died down to giggles again, allowing him to take in air.

“Ehehehehe ohoho myhyhy! Ehehe- ihihi cahahant breheheathe- hoholy moholy..” Hermes breathed out through his giggles, taking in breaths and still feeling so giddy.

Odysseus gave him a chance to breathe for a moment, wiggling his fingers behind his knees and tracing around his ankles, before managing to pry his sandals away from his feet slightly, and scratching gently at the soles.

Hermes giggles increased, not nearly as hysterical as it was earlier, but definitely more than it was from the more gentle tracing.

“EhHahHaha ohohohody plehehehease! Ehehehehe!”

“Oh, come on. We both know you don’t actually want me to stop.”

Hermes nodded again. He really didn’t. He protested, yes, but he didn’t mean any of it. It was only instinct, the natural reaction to such intense tickles, even though he enjoyed every second.

After a few more moments, Ody smirked and turned to look at Hermes, speaking with a teasing, taunting tone.

“I’m gonna get your wings~” he sing-songed, scratching at the edge of his ankle, right before where the wings met.

Hermes frantically protested, a giddy nervousness filling his chest and stomach. “Nonononohoho!”

“Yes yes yes~ these soft, little wings are gonna get tickled~”

A faint blush dusted Hermes’ face at the teasing words, so many butterflies and zaps of giddy, nervous excitement rushing through him as the anticipation drove him up the wall.

“Are you ready~”

“Nohoho!” Hermes protested again, even though he would much rather the soldier get it over with rather than deal with this anticipation.

Odysseus smirked again, responding instantly and with a faux lack of sympathy. “Too bad.”

Without any pause, he grabbed each wing on one leg and started to scribble against the feathers, scratching at the base of the wings.

Hermes was once again immediately thrown into heavy , hysterical laughter. “EEHAHAHA! OHOHO MYHYHY GOHODS- NOHOHOT THEHEHEHERE! EEEE!”

Odysseus chuckled again, the contagious laughter fully infecting him. “Oh my, quite ticklish here, are we~?”

Hermes blushed a bit more at the teasing, the fluster only adding to the ticklish experience, if you asked him.

His free wings on the other ankle flapped frantically, drawing the king’s attention.

“Well, would you look at that. It seems like your left set of wings is feeling a little left out.”

“NohOhOHO-! PLEHEHEHEASE!”

“Please tickle your other wings? Why of course!” He taunted, switching sides.

He once again pinched and rubbed the feathers in between his fingers, making Hermes toss his head back as fits of laughter racked his whole body.

He got such an evil thought just then, leaning to one of the wings being his ears and blowing a huge raspberry right on it.

Hermes squealed with laughter once again, absolutely hysterical as mirthful tears dampened his face.

“NOHOHO- EEEEEHAHAHAHAHA! IHIHI CAHAHANT HOHOLY MOHOLY-EEHAHAHAHA!”

Hermes was in absolute ticklish agony, his whole torso quivering with the force of his hysterical laughter from the blissful torture. It was absolutely horrible and yet he loved it so much, rushes of euphoria filling him with every laugh, every raspberry on his wings, every overwhelming ticklish touch.

After only a minute or so of that, Odysseus stopped completely with a final wiggle in his bellybutton, leaving Hermes gasping for air in between fits of residual giggles.

He wiped his eyes under his helmet from the tears of laughter, his face still split in two from his wide smile.

“Ahahahaha.. wohohoah.. yohou’re reheheally gohood ahahat thahahat… ehehehehe…”

Odysseus chuckled a bit. “Yeah, I really did a number on you, didn’t I?”

Hermes nodded, still giggling and trying to cool his breathing and blushing face.

“Are you alright? I didn’t go too far, did I?”

Hermes shook his head slightly. “No, Noho, yohou’re ahalrihihight. That was greheheat.”

“Man, you really like being tickled, don’t you?”

“Yeheheah! It’s fun to laugh like thahat.. ehehehe.”

“Well, I’m glad to have provided that for you.”

“Thahank yohou, daharling.”

“No problem!”

After another minute or so, Hermes finally stopped giggling, and dusted himself off before standing.

“Well, I best be off. I do have a job to do! But don’t be afraid to send a message whenever you want to hang! This was splendid!”

Odysseus chuckled a bit. “And you dont be afraid to come down and ask me for tickles anytime you want.”

Hermes giggled a bit in response. “I’ll keep that in mind. Ta-ta darling!~”

“See ya round!”

And with that, Hermes flew off, leaving with a light heart and a wide smile.

———THE END———————————————————-