#'is that what you want? no? then let me cause nice low level chaos and fun wherever i want and i'll stay out of your hair'

[an-eldritch-peredhel]

#dang it do i have a new oc now

Sounds like!! I'd love to hear more if you've got it!

(referring to my tags on this post)

You will meet a stranger, sometimes, if you make a habit to frequent taverns, inns, halls for game, or even the one tree where the young Bracegirdle cousins sneak off to play marbles. Well, you will like as not meet many strangers, except in the last case, but this one will be different. Or perhaps you get lucky, and don't frequent such places, but find yourself in one unexpectedly, and meet them regardless.

Everyone in Gondor knows someone who knows someone who met Lady Luck, no one has met her themself. If you do, starry-eyed romantics say, you'll be blessed with good fortune for all your days. The pragmatists tell you you'll be blessed with the good sense to discern a scam.

He may smirk at you after winning a bet, some dark-haired man, using his earnings to buy a round for the bar. It's always a different man, but it always goes to Alwed's tab. It keeps the crowd from getting too rowdy, even if the more superstitious get on edge.

No one remembers meeting them the first time, but dwarves with common sense avoid Audr's shell games and silver-toothed smile- you always win, but it's never worth it.

A woman with greying-gold hair and stiff fingers might call herself Eadrun, and challenge you to a game of dice. Few decline, and far fewer win.

For as few elves remain in Middle Earth, the one who calls himself Herendil and laughs as though his name is a joke should be recognizable. He seems young and lighthearted in a way most have lost, but he will play you cards, win just as much as he loses, and disappear, never recognized.

A hobbit-lass may giggle, red curls gleaming in the sun, and introduce herself as Peony Sandheaver, her family is visiting from Bree, and she wants to see how Shire-hobbits play Jacks.

Sometimes an orc prays over a set of knucklebones, knowing that at least one god will hear one prayer. Orcs have little luck in battle, but uncanny luck with dice.

There are countless stories, just as many true as not. Countless names, far more unnamed figures, always just out of place enough wherever they are to be interesting and promise new tales, never enough to provoke suspicion, not at first.

Even those in the Blessed Realm may find this dark-eyed stranger. Always dark-eyed, like bottles of dark glass. They stop by Aulë's workshop on occasion, to learn and suggest and play new games. They never win the first round, but most have the sense not to bet anything they aren't willing to lose on the second.

Oromë's people call them Umbarnica with a laugh and a toast in welcome. They thrive in the drunken revels after a successful hunt, sharp as ever as they dance from game to game, cackling at ill-advised propositions offered as collateral for or against a bet. Usually this means them winning to avoid it, a frequent enough occurrence as-is, but every now and then they'll decide to let someone get lucky. The bragging rights are the real reward.

And there are no guarantees with this stranger. No way to ensure their favor, though many ways to get their attention, few good. They like irony, take pleasure in hubris reaching its fall. They love superstition, even if they don't always honor it, and they love stories. There are gods that can be mistaken for kind, they are not one of them, created to serve the king the Dark Lord could have been. Their favorites are fickle, their grudges subtle but long-held. They love cheaters, unless they're at the end of the attempt. They will always catch you, and you will always regret it. They slink through candle-shadows and pipe-smoke, grinning, dance in town squares turned to faire grounds, curl up on comfy chairs indoors on rainy days.

But sometimes, in these days, you won't meet a stranger at all. Sometimes your storyteller will get a bright-dark glint in their eyes, and some dice will roll strangely high and some dice will roll strangely low and either way the story will be better for it. And if the next time the group meets you need to take a moment to remind the storyteller exactly what happened last session, well. That's why you take notes.

So pray to the dice-god, card-master, quick-sighted. It might do you no good, but they love superstition, and they love stories. And when you play a dark-eyed stranger, don't cheat at cards.

[bibewilderedandbuck]

Buck goes out to get food or restock after a particularly rigorous ""work out"" session and it just happens to be at the same time as some idiot decides to rob the place.

Buck is kneeling down because hes looking for Tommy's favorite gatorade flavor. They have all the popular flavors at eye level but if you're looking for dark red, you have to stoop down. Homophobic, and during pride month.

He hears the commotion and of course his hero complex kicks in. But he doesn't wanna spook the guy cause he knows how he looks. Massive and buff and a firefighter and everyone at this place knows him too, he lives right down the road (or maybe the drug store is one the first level of his apartment). He goes to send a quick text to Tommy, when the guy with the gun demands all their phones. Buck gets out "911" and turns on his location. He stays low to the floor but makes himself known. Gets the gun trained on himself instead of anyone else because that's just who buck is.

The robber is getting desperate and every time bucks phone pings he gets more and more jumpy.

“Whose needy ass boyfriend wont stop blowing up their phone?”

Buck raises a shaky hand. He opens his mouth to say something but before he can get it out-

The store clerk high-fives him and tells him he’s proud of him. “It was only a matter of time, man. He went through all the women of LA and he just moved on to the men.”

A chorus of “Oooh come on!” “That’s biphobic” “ew gross” “not cool” ring out among the other hostages. Buck’s cheeks are burning. The mix of positive and negative reinforcement creating chaos in his head.

“You really should consider letting us go.” He says to the man with the gun. Buck takes a risk and stands to his full height and the other man’s eyes widen. “My boyfriend is bigger than I am. He's waiting for me and we weren’t done.” He holds up a box of condoms and the gatorade and someone hoots behind him.

It’s then that the sirens start. Someone shouts instructions through a bullhorn. Buck isn't listening, he's determined to get everyone out before himself. He calmly explains that out there is one of the most fiercely protective police sergeants he's ever met.

"And her first priority is not going to be you." Buck motions his raised hand to the other people in the store and says, "let them go and I can help you."

The voice amplified by the horn sounds more desperate by the second and when did the fucking fire department get here?

The armed man send everyone out, except buck, who he now holds in front of him with the barrel of the gun tucked snugly against his spine. Buck can feel it shiver against his skin.

"I didn't want to hurt anyone."

"I- I know," Buck says. The guy cowers behind him and he curses his height because if anyone was a fantastic human shield its Evan Buckley.

There's a new voice coming through the bullhorn now and Buck groans. Its Tommy and he's telling Buck the whole teams here and he's going to be alright. He sounds desperate and scared and Buck just wants to wrap his arms around the man and tell him its going to be OK.

"The boyfriend?" the guy asks and Buck almost laughs. He lets out a shaky breath.

"Yeah, needy right?"

"Listen man, I made a mistake. I'm in a lot of trouble but I never wanted anything like this." Buck nods. "My baby is sick and I'm broke. I just needed some cash and some formula."

Buck groans. He's too nice for his own good.

"There's an exit in the back."

"What?"

"In the back room I've seen them take in deliveries that way." He can hear the guy shuffle and then stop.

"Should I hit you?"

"What?" Buck peaks over his shoulder, the guy is half way to the door at the back of the store and still he's completely shielded by Buck's body. Seriously he should have been a bodyguard or something.

"I mean...it'll look like you just let me go?"

"This isn't a movie? I- I'm literally being held hostage, dude."

"Right." He turns away from Buck and then stops again. Buck is holding his breath. "Thanks man. I know this is fucked up and you didn't have to help me. You're a good guy."

Then he's gone.

Buck's not sure how to react. He did it, he saved everyone and himself and oddly the whole thing feels like a dream. Unreal. He walks slowly to the door of the shop and exits with his hands still in the air. Eddie is the first to hug him, barreling right into him and smacking his back into the glass of the window. He's checking over Buck for injuries and squinting inside the store and he seems confused.

"Where'd he go?"

Buck shrugs. "Went to the back and never came out."

Athena is next, she too gives him a once over, lets him know she can take his statement tomorrow and motions to the rest of the crew. They give him one resounding bone crushing group hug. Buck's warm and smiley but he still feels not here.

Finally, Tommy ambles out from behind the police car. He's thrown on a hoodie and sweats and he's vibrating on the balls of his feet. Buck see's the same expression on his face that must be reflected on Buck's. He reaches out to Tommy and Tommy clutches at him. The hug starts off timid until Buck hears a few pops in his back and Tommy is taking a deep breath in at his temple.

The world falls back into place like they've hit the bottom of a drop of an amusement park ride. His feet feel solidly on the ground and his stomach finally drops. His knees nearly buckle. At some point Buck had known he wasn't in danger, but it didn't feel that way. It felt like he was never going to talk to his family again, he would never see Hen or Eddie or Bobby...or Tommy. There is so much he wants to say but his breath is shaky and his hands won't release Tommy's shoulders.

"Do you want to be alone?" Tommy asks. Because of course he asks. No Buck has never wanted to be alone less. He feels like if he lets go of the man in his arms he's going to float into the atmosphere and dissipate. Like he's only tethered here by Tommy's hands.

"No," Buck says. He takes a grounding breath in, his chest bumping Tommy's. "I- I want to go home."

[skala]

It's nothing, at first. And then it's a drawing so simple it might as well be nothing still: a ring, a set of lines delineating limbs; a stick figure like any other rendered crudely upon its canvas.

It is everything and nothing, before its purpose is defined.

---

"This is pointless."

Alan turned at the sound of a stylus clattering across his desk, in time to see a head of curly brown locks slump forward to rest beside the keyboard. "Something the matter, kiddo?"

The desk chair's current occupant let out a beleaguered huff as Alan padded over from the bed to take in her latest piece. The animation program had become a cityscape framing a bustling town square, replete with market stalls and cherry blossom trees that cast dappled shade over the crowds of stick figures populating the scene. "Naomi, this is good. Really good."

And getting really late, a glance at the corner of the monitor (and the orange stick figure sound asleep upon the taskbar) revealed. Hoping Kaori was still preoccupied with the younger sibling down the hall, he shot his daughter a conspiratorial grin.

"Tell you what, how about I let you sneak in another half-hour of computer time? I could help you color in the background, if—"

"I don't care about the background."

Alan blinked. "You sure? Cause I'm starting to think you're a better artist than I am. Look at you, using two-point perspective and everything," he motioned with both hands, tracing a pair of imaginary lines across the canvas. "I don't remember teaching you that."

Naomi blushed in spite of herself, intimations of pride playing at the corners of her lips, though her expression remained uncharacteristically sour. "Orange helped out, a little."

"You make a good team. When you're not busy plotting to lock me out so you can play minecraft all day, that is."

She didn't laugh. With a gentle sigh he hoped sounded commiserating, Alan crouched down to her eye level and tapped one finger against her knee. "You wanna tell me what's wrong?"

By way of explanation, Naomi retrieved the stylus, shoved the drawing pad closer, and sketched a stick figure in the middle of her canvas. She stared at it for a moment before collapsing back in the chair, folding her arms across her chest as she glowered at the monitor above her.

"Why don't mine ever come to life?"

"Wha—is that what this is all about?" Alan failed to suppress a snort, and Naomi's glower deepened. "You think I don't deal with enough chaos from the five of them already?"

"…I wanted to be like you," she said in a small voice.

Ah.

Alan rose to settle himself at the foot of the bed, unsure how to proceed. "For what it's worth, kiddo, you're a skilled animator already. Living animations, though…"

He hummed to himself. "They're rare. At least as far as I can tell. Like, some of the best animators I've ever met think I'm making them up."

"So you're saying it's pointless."

"No! That's not—I'm just saying it'll happen when you least expect it."

"But there has to be some secret to it!"

Heaving herself up onto the bed to fall face-first into the blankets, arms splayed to either side, her next words came out low and muffled. "I've tried giving them different names, I've tried animating them, nothing works."

(Eyeing the pc, Alan wondered where she'd picked up such a flair for the dramatic.)

"I probably animated hundreds of different stick figures when I was a kid," he shrugged, reaching out to tousle her hair. "It wasn't until I was 18 that one started moving around on its own."

"Yeah, I know. The Chosen One."

"Oh… before him, actually."

Naomi rolled onto her side and propped herself up on one elbow, meeting his gaze with big, inquisitive eyes that told him she'd thought she knew all the stick figures her dad had ever brought to life. "Who was first?"

The dad in question ducked his head at that.

"Tell me."

"I dunno. It isn't exactly a nice story."

"Tell me."

He nearly snorted again at the suddenly adamant tone that had replaced her earlier despondence. After a brief internal debate between the part of him ready to insist on bedtime, and the part of him knowing that in doing so he'd only stoke her curiosity, he acquiesced.

"Alright. But this isn't something I want you sharing with your brother quite yet, ok?"

Naomi perked up, then nodded curtly, as if to demonstrate her resolve to keep secret whatever her father was about to confide in her. Alan repositioned himself to sit at her side.

"It started the same way it always did: with me procrastinating on schoolwork. And with a stick figure scribbled in the corner of a blank project file."

Nothing, at first. A circle and a set of lines. It exists as the simplest representation of man, symbolic of both the least and greatest among them.

"I didn't really have any ideas for it, though."

It exists as an arrow held taut in its bowstring, equally nascent and inert.

Almost a decade later, he still remembered how wrung dry he'd felt that day, overwhelmed by even the simplest of tasks and yet too stubborn to let himself rest. "My brain was, like, this tired, angry mush—angry at my summer school, at my teachers; at my friends getting better grades than me. At myself."

It exists as kindling.

"Angry at everything and everyone."

It is nothing, and everything—

"So I named it victim."

—until its purpose is defined.

Alan's gaze dropped to his hands. "I just… wanted a punching bag, I guess."

Then all the innumerable possibilities and countless states of existence collapse into one, and it moves.

Naomi had gathered up the blanket to her chest. "What'd you do to it?"

He responded with a wry shrug. "Chased it around a bit. Tied it up. I was mostly just curious how it would react to me, at first." A strange softness like threads of regret wove their way into his tone as he pictured the defiant figure, brandishing brush and eraser with all the futile determination of a gladiator seeking victory from a match rigged against it. "It held its own, though, better than what you might expect given what I named it."

It moves, runs, climbs, creates; the certainty of its death not bearing on its mind any more than the suddenness of its life. There is only survival, and the anger that compels it.

"But then it managed to open its own library, and began cloning itself… and I couldn't fight all its copies at once. So I shut down the program."

Until it is denied movement, and is undone.

"…Oh."

Alan grasped sheepishly at the back of his neck. "I told you it wasn't a very nice story."

Its form is undone, reverted to the blank canvas preceding its existence. What remains of its code, severed from source, is left to decay and be slowly overwritten; spread thin into the understructure of machine.

Of victim, there is nothing else.

"I used to tell myself that I wasn't to blame for what I did to it, back then, cause I didn't realize it was alive—as in, I didn't know it could feel the way you and I feel. But the truth is…" Alan forced himself to meet Naomi's precocious scrutiny. She was his daughter and as close a friend to the sticks as he was; he wouldn't downplay his actions in her company. And she was old enough to judge the shamefulness of those actions for herself.

"The truth is, it wouldn't have made any difference if I had known. Teenage me wouldn't have cared. I was immature and needed an outlet. I wanted it to be alive so that I could hurt—and kill it."

It exists in fragments that do not remember.

"Sure says something about who I was back then, huh."

Something pretty disgusting, he might have added, but he waited to hear it from Naomi. He wouldn't have faulted her if she had ran from the room and refused to speak to him the rest of the night.

Instead she turned towards the window, leaned against the headboard with her knees pulled to her chin as she stared out at the sky. No stars were visible through the glass, yet her eyes and cheeks reflected the silvery glint of an almost-full moon.

Existing in fragments,

"You didn't save the file?"

it lies beyond repair.

"Nope. Like I said—I was immature."

And yet it is not alone.

"…But I wish I had."

It is dark—not as in the absence of light, but as in the absence of everything.

And yet it is not alone.

Some greater idea of itself had existed. The enormity of its potential clings to the divides, the moments of hesitation before its creation and deletion, and does not accept it.

It cannot cry out. How could it pull the broken strands of its fate into one plaintive cry that, if somehow seen, would earn it no greater mercy than complete annihilation?

No. It will not beg for a second death.

But it hears the word that imbued its life, spoken as its name, as if its meaning were not so important as that it referred to itself.

As if, in its remembered life, it could have defined itself.

Naomi had gone quiet. But when she turned back towards him he was surprised to see her offer him a tentative smile. He gratefully returned it.

"Maybe I could've set it free, somehow. I don't think it would've liked living on my computer all that much." Nodding towards the monitor, he caught sight of a haggard-looking orange stick waving at them impatiently from the canvas. "Or maybe I could've drawn it a world like that for it to call home, huh?"

"Mhm."

In a lower voice, he added: "It really is some nice composition. I've got professional artists on my team who could learn a thing from you."

Naomi was smiling in earnest now, letting him wrap one arm around her shoulders as she pulled herself into the hug. "I think Orange wants us to sleep."

"That he does."

With another arm beneath her knees, Alan swung her from the bed to deposit her in a gangly heap at his desk. "Hey, don't forget to save your work."

"…yeah yeah you don't have to remind me every time."

It was only after Naomi had dimmed the monitor, waved goodnight to Orange and made her way across the room that she turned back to Alan, lingering in the doorframe with an expression he couldn't quite read in the low light.

"Dad?"

"Mm?"

"…Does Orange know? About Victim?"

Alan clasped his hands behind his head, sighing to himself. "I guess I should tell him sometime, shouldn't I." If he could ever figure out how to bring it up. "You've given me a lot to think about tonight, kiddo, you know that?"

Naomi grinned. "Night, dad."

It is remembered.

"Night Naomi. Love you."

It exists, as a memory dreaming of itself.

In its dreams, the stick figure raises one hand, and draws a circle.

[derelictheretic]

"Long time no see Johnny! The new place is nice, very country chic; how have you been? Did you miss me?"

John is speechless; shocked, stunned. Angry—Oh yes, he's angry. It's a low heat kind of anger, those green eyes shine and twinkle, squinting at him like a fox from the shrubbery and causing a pit of anxiety to swell in his stomach. Her painted lips are twisted into a wide smile, it's gorgeous—hideous; filled with insincerity and the promise of harm and his skin trembles at the memory of them. How the fuck was she here? Why now? No, he knew why, this was what she did; show up exactly when it was most inconvenient and spin his perfectly calculated plans into chaos just for her own amusement.

"Hardly long enough—how did you find me?" He mutters warily, eyes squinting as she moseyed up his front porch. The sound of her boots hitting the hard wood was grating and he could feel his blood sizzling in his veins—Get off my porch. Get off my property.

"You buy up half of this little County and think you're staying under the radar sweetheart? Come on now don't be dull, invite me in; offer me a drink, your manners as a host haven't gotten any better—" Heather scoffs, gesturing behind her with a wide swing of her arm before she rests her hand on the doorframe. John's spine goes rigid as she moves to step inside.

No, absolutely fucking not.

"If you step one foot inside my home I will shoot you," He snarls—bares his teeth, grips the back of the couch and thrusts a threatening finger in her direction. It all feels so familiar and that heat rises as he realises she's getting to him, just like she always did; worming her way under his skin and making him revert back to that mess of a man he was in Georgia. He can't let her in, not after all the progress he'd made, not after all this time. Once she was in, much like a locus, she would stay—infest every nook and cranny of his home and he'd be deprived of his sanctuary. Again.

Heather freezes and for a moment she looks impressed. Then she's smiling again, foot planted back on the ground and hand resting on her hip. Her expression twisting into one of amusement; as if he'd simply threatened to graffiti her car and not take her life.

"Well that's not very polite Johnny, what would your dear mother say about you being so rude," She tuts, condescension dripping from her pouting lips as she shakes her head at him. John's blood boils at the words, so easily digging into old wounds he'd attempted to carve out of himself time and time again.

How dare she—How fucking dare she.

And just like that he was ignited, like a broken matchstick, just how she wanted him.

Felt like doing a proper piece for Heather and what better moment to capture then her showing up uninvited to John's Ranch! At this point they haven't seen each other for well over a decade and the events of the game are very close to starting off so stress levels are high for John and Heather is here to make it so much worse <3

(for tagging purposes this is not ship art they are going to kill each other and not in the fun sexy enemies to lovers way but more in the friends to lovers to enemies to mutual utter and total destruction way <3)

(also bonus close up of Heather bc tumblr hates quality and the bg by itself bc I thought it was sexy)

[shadowgamerhalo]

Hello there, welcome to this blog. I am Shade and here's what you need to know before interacting.

-As of 2023 I am 21 years old, introvert, genderfluid aroace polyamorous lesbian , norse heathen witch, who has unspecified neurodivergences and disability.

-Personally I'd sum up my personality as chaotic, tired, and socially inept. I have trouble with social interactions at times, either forgetting how to interact with people normally, low spoons, or my social battery is dead.

-My vocabulary changes from fanciful wording to the weirdest slang. Example. Whilst I enjoy the yeeting of my blorbo around my cerebral cortex, I am up for putting them into the salad spinner for their uwu crimes. You stick around on this blog, and you will find more of that I assure you.

-My genderfluidity is a mystery to even myself sometimes, so I tend to go by they/them for simplicity. I'd say I'm still figuring out what some of my genders are, though I'd say none of them fall strictly into masculine or feminine categories, even if I like more feminine or masculine pronouns at times.

-I use the term lesbian cause it feels right. I am not attracted to men in the slightest. Edit: changed cause well, figured out identity stuff. Aroace, short for aromantic and asexual. I also am polyamorous. For anyone curious I am single, mainly because I don't know how people flirt and talking to people is hard.

-I am in many fandoms, that it has become a game of what fandom I shall fall into next. That also means my brain is full of so much fictional knowledge that I wonder if I will run out of space in my brain.

-This blog had gone through several changes over the years I've had it due to many reasons. This change particularly is me deciding fuck it, my blog means I can do whatever the fuck I want. I am nice and apeshit I suppose.

-The blog will contain mainly things I decide to put on it, whether if I like it, helping boost it, tagging potential for mutuals, and sometimes for chaos. An example of that last one would be scheduling 'thank the gnome it's friday' for a couple fridays just for kicks.

-If I send you asks, expect chaos or compliments, sometimes both. I like being a little gremlin on here, just now I am being more open about it. I have sent things of this nature on anon back when I was in my shy era.

-I have two sideblogs which are much more fandom centered. I used to keep them hidden cause I didn't want people to know I had them, but now I am letting myself be the feral nerd I am. @monkiesgobrrrr is lego monkie kid centered, and @starscreativity101 is murder drones centered.

-When interacting please don't directly dm unless I know you, you'll end up getting blocked.

-Asks in my inbox are more than welcome, expect inconsistencies as answering asks depends on my mental health and energy levels.

-If you see a reblog with the tags that I am eating your art or going feral because of it, that is my way of showing my love for it. This also applies to writing and edits.

-When I make stuff on here, I prefer reblogs over likes, and I want someone to go feral over it. Commentary is welcome as long as it doesn't derail the post.

Upon your readage of this, I hope you enjoy your stay even if it's short. Now interact as you see fit.

[tteokdoroki]

assistance please! | e.kirishima.

♡ pairing: eijirou kirishima x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 6.6K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: workplace!au, internship!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: eijirou kirishima loved being an intern, he had great co-workers, had a shot at his dream job, his boss had taken quite liking to him and of course, being the favourite intern had many, many perks.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut,  ( kirishima is in his twenties ), power dynamics, sub top!kirishima + power bottom!reader,   heavy!praise kink, heavy!miss + mommy kink, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it, kids ), oral ( female receiving ), squirting, tummy bulges, cumplay, creampie.

♡ author’s note(s): hihi everyone!! today i present to you my contribution to the bnharem on the job collab! i had a lot of fun playing with different dyanimics in this fic, i hope you enjoy it nonetheless!! make sure you chek out the other works from the other amazing creators!! <3

♡ masterlist | requests | kofi

“oi! ‘shima! you’re needed in the boss’ office right away, she’s got important business for ya!, wants t’have a word. now.”

eijirou ducks his head politely in a sign of gratitude, thanking his co-worker and superior, keigo— for the heads up. keigo, or better known as hawks around the office ( for his fast speeds in completing work and luring lonely interns into his bed ), was a nice guy— second to the lady in charge and way too chatty. he was a bit of an air head, got the job done when it needed to be but that’s what kirishima was for, the replacement while keigo took his vacation time in the middle of the year like an idiot.

he wasn’t too sure why you kept the blonde around, he supposed it was because he was pretty but eijirou wouldn’t dare question you— he needed this internship if he was going to make it big in the sports news reporting scene. he’d been majoring in sports and healthcare at college, two years away from graduating when the opportunity to work for yn ln, one of the biggest sports journalists in japan had landed right in his lap. of course he was going to take it, of course he was going to do everything he could not to fuck it up.

in the cubicles beside him, the other interns try to muffle their giggles and titters of curious laughter as the red head gathers himself for the meeting.

“oooo, i wonder what you did this time,” kaminari teases from the right, leaning over his side of the cubicle to fiddle with the odd bits on kirishima’s desk. denki kaminari was another person kirishima wondered how the hell he got into the programme, but then again he was pretty to look at and brought a lighter air to boring office days.

“nothing! i’m innocent!” eijirou defends, hands releasing his files to fly up in defence.

the other interns, going by the names of mina ashido, kyouka jirou and hanta sero snicker amongst themselves at the interaction.

“don’t believe it, s’obviously more than nothin’ if you’re always getting called down’ta the boss lady’s office.” bakugou, another intern, grunts out with his nose deep buried in files for upcoming reports. he was a little too rough for the journalism lifestyle but got the job done. his attitude wasn’t for everyone. “they’re probably fuckin’.”

mina giggles and kirishima steps out into the paths between desks. “don’t be such a sourpuss ‘suki, just ‘cause you’re not her favourite.”

a lose ‘shut up’ is huffed, before katsuki turns to face his taller, buffer companion. “just don’t be late, bunch of us are goin’ for lunch later.” he adds and turns back to his paperwork.

“affirmative, catch ya later!”

the group waves the red head off as he heads to the elevator directing him to the main floor— this is where all the higher ups worked. the journey wasn’t unfamiliar to the intern, he wasn’t like the others and had the steps to your office memorised by heart. sometimes it was like walking home, to his comfort and sanctuary away from the stressors of work and the outside world— he knew that was bad, but you were so kind, such a sweet and understanding boss he couldn’t help but develop some level of comfort towards you.

to most, it seemed like eijirou kirishima was just unbelievably close to his boss, that you’d taken him under your wing.

he however, knew what you had, meant more.

a fluttering warmth spreads across the intern’s chest as he approaches the door to your main office and he knocks. behind it lay mountains of secrets upon secrets, things that kirishima knows about you that no one else does. the walls have hidden words, written across them in fonts of passion and admiration and it’s all that he can think about. you’re all that he can think about, and it’s still wrong. there’s a shuffling deep in the room and some flitters of paper here and there before your soft, velveteen voice breaks through the barrier between you. the one thing keeping you apart.

“come in,” you call smoothly and kirishima follows your orders swiftly, if not eagerly, entering the four walls of your office. ruby eyes dart across the room to locate your position and his heart skips a beat when he finds you, body leaning over your dark oak desk, papers scattered across it while you frantically sift through numbers and stocks and nonsense way above the level of a journalism intern. but even amongst the chaos, you’re beautiful— eyes sparkling with productivity, lined in little flecks across the colour of your orbs. the way you dress never fails to steal away eijirou’s breath— a tight fitting leather skirt that hugs your mature curves and a white blouse with the bottoms popped open— just enough for him to get a peek at your cleavage.

the poor intern has to hold himself back from blurring the lines of work and pleasure to shove himself deep into your chest, suck and lick at your plush breasts until he was high off the taste of your skin. but he wouldn’t do that, yet. not without your permission. “oh eiji baby, there you are!” you coo to the red head, bright smile stretching across blood diamond painted lips. you cross the room in three short strides, tall black heels clacking against the smooth white marble until you’re standing in front of and looking up at kirishima. “was starting to think keigo had ditzed like a pretty boy and had forgotten to send you my way, darling.”

eijirou’s cheeks flame at the smoothness in your syrupy voice, like sweet honey to his hears, the pet name striking a familiar heat deep within him. you always had a way with your words— enticing, almost like a siren calling out to him despite the taboo aura that surrounded what you had. whatever it was— he just knew it was more than your typical boss-intern relationship.

“even if he had, ‘m more than happy to be of service to you ma’am,” he responds almost a little too quickly, large hand rubbing the back of his neck and tugging at his baby hairs to ground himself.

you cock your head, eyes sparkling with mischief. “always such a helpful, good boy eijirou,” you hum, lips pulling into a devilish red smile and the praise causing a new spark of lustful electricity to crackle through the air. “i could use a little assistance, please, i have this awful meeting with the board today, spent all night preparing and couldn’t go home, i could use some stress relief,”

kirishima’s gaze becomes hooded as he looks down at you, a familiar and bright desire burning in the pits of his stomach. “oh yeah? sucks that the paperwork kept you up all night ma’am…” he trails off, choosing to let his fingers dance up and down your sides— snaking an arm around your waist to pull you into him. you couldn’t or you wouldn’t go home. he’s not sure if he cares about the answer right now— not when you tremble in his grip, itching for something, anything from him. “how long do you reckon we have ms. ln?”

“ten to fifteen minutes sweetheart, give or take,”

you grin widens, taking an impossibly closer step to your intern— pressing the swell of your breasts against his hard chest. he can feel your nipples pebbling through your blouse, almost visible behind the white fabric and god the way you look up at him— he can no longer wait, he needs you. right here and right now.

“will you be needing my assistance throughout, ma’am?” kirishima asks, voice dropping a few octaves until it falls into a low growl.

“i expect it. you are my intern after all.”

the words laced with deep huskiness, the proximity of your bodies and the rising heat in the room is what leads you both to tumble into the next series of events. before he can’t register it, your mouths are slotted together in a fast paced and sloppy kiss, kirishima’s body manoeuvres you around the office, marking out a familiar pathway to your desk—his tongue remains sliding over yours in rapid movements as he commits your taste to memory, refreshing those from the last time he had you like this. yet every time you kiss and his tongue glides over yours, you taste sweeter than before; like peaches and morning coffee— you feel softer in his grip, every dip and curve to your body like it was built for him.

eijirou can't stop thinking of that last time, tucked away in your office after dark when your dainty hands pawed desperately at his hips to bring him closer or scratched at his back from sheer pleasure— kirishima wants to see you like that against, using his own hands to tear through your shirt and send buttons flying across the room. something in him just wants to do good for you, have you ache for him and earn himself some of your sweet praise. even as you step and stumble towards your work desk, the red-head lets his lips break away from yours, connected by a string of your own saliva before he drops to your neck, lapping tracks over your skin with the temptation to bite down and paint it shades of deep purple and blue.

but there are rules that you both have in place; ways to keep what you have a secret and hidden away from the public eye so that you don’t lose all that you’ve worked for and so kirishima can keep being your precious little intern.

“jump for me, please ma’am,” he whispers heavily into the junction between your neck and your shoulders, breath laboured and warm against your skin that begins to shine with light perspiration. mindlessly, you follow his orders, jumping up while your fingers curl into the mass of red on kirishima’s head and ankles lock around his waist—his hands meet the backs of your doughy thighs, squeezing the flesh between calloused digits while you toe off your heels.

“eiji, you’re so good,” you manage between feather light breaths as they clatter to the floor as the pair of you somehow make your way to the desk chair, pushing and tearing the clothes from one another’s bodies— including your crisp shirt. now seated and left in nothing but your bra, you tug harshly at your intern’s locks and bring his mouth down to yours, allowing them to move together in a dirty, messy kiss. there’s barely any time for you both to mess around, for him to tease you until your limit and you’re crying out for any type of touch from him, so eijirou quickly

flips down your bra, exposing your chest to cool, air conditioned air—not even bothering to unclip the material as his fingers descend on your nipple, pulling and twisting them until your back arches from the stimulation. “hurry, please eijirou,”

obedient as ever, your favourite boy drops to his knees in front of the chair you stay slumped in and with his height, he still manages to tower over you, practically at eye level with hunger framing the ruby of his own. large hands knead at your plush thighs, hiking your skirt up and up to give you room to spread your thighs, cunt growing sticky from anticipation— all from a few measly touches in familiar places. but this is kirishima, and he knows how your body works from countless hours spent after the office closes up— using one another to blow off extra steam. he knows just what makes you tick and moan his name.

logically, eijirou knows that your meeting could start at any minute and even though you’re both in a stickler for time, he still wants to get a taste at your skin before devouring your most intimate parts. he’ll make time to explore every part of you, to assist you in your stress relief. “‘m sorry miss, yn,” he whines needily, watching your chest rise and fall with want, feeling your body heat up and twitch from the ghost of his fingertips across your blemished skin. “gotta have a taste of you before the real deal, hope’ya don’t mind…”

latching onto the left mound of flesh at your exposed chest, kirishima sinks the point of his teeth into the area around your nipple— just enough to graze your skin and pull a sweet mewl from your mouth. you’re both lucky for the soundproof walls, your head thrown back in a lewd moan he lets his pink tongue roll over your bud in vicious circles. heavy, fat globs of saliva pool over the pink muscle, pouring down kirishima’s chin and painting your skin with a slick shine. “h-how...how could i mind angel, not when you treat me s’good,” you heave, vision fading in and out due to the overwhelming amount of pleasure flashing through your body in waves of hotness. “always doin’ so well for me eiji, aren’t you such a good boy?”

“yes ma’am,” the intern confirms with a erogenous slur, pacified and content on his knees for you— sucking, licking and biting at your chest to his heart’s content. “‘m your good boy,” he corrects you, however. eijirou feels most happy when grazing his tongue over the swell of your breasts, watching your face carefully for any twitches of delirium, it lets him know how hot aroused he makes you feel— that knowledge shoots straight to his cock, rock hard in his slacks while the redhead watches his boss writhe in her seat all for his eyes only.

such a dazzling view, and it’s all for fucking him.

your perfectly manicured nails run through red hair, scratching deliciously at his scalp until you’re forcing his head back and pulling kirishima off of your breast with a pop. “as much as i love seeing a pretty boy suck on my tits like a baby, we’re pressed for time angel, gonna need you to speed it up a little,” despite the softness to your face and the sudden evenness to the tone of your voice, the words that you speak to eijirou are vulgar, nasty, and turn him on to his wits end. “want you to eat me out eiji, can you do that for me?”

shaking his head, yes, beautiful claret eyes shining with acquiescence, kirishima wipes the spit from his chin with the back of his hand— like the tainted, dirty intern he is. you sigh down at him salaciously, ready to tear his innocence apart all over again. eijirou was always so willing to please, both in his work and behind closed doors— you would be a fool to not take advantage of that. with brute force, your intern forces your legs apart, eyes rolling back in his skull from the scent of your sex, dripping with your juices right through your underwear and stockings. overexcited, he rips through the flimsy material at your cunt, exposing your panties for him to see.

“you’re so...so wet ms.ln,” kirishima comments observantly, not even bothering to pull your stockings the rest of the way down your legs, instead opting to pull on the whole until it’s wide enough for his mouth to fit. “smell s’good, bet you taste even better,” there’s a patch on the crotch of your panties, darker than the rest of the material from where you leak and without a second thought, the red head instantly surges forward to lick a stripe over it, letting out a choked gripe as the taste of your cream from over the fabric invades his tongue.

you let out a shrill cry, hips jumping up at the first brush of his tongue against your untouched, clothed pussy. you wriggle even as kirishima holds you down, needing the heat of his mouth against you before your meeting starts. but he’s so good, so well trained, reaching up to your hips to yank your panties down in one fluid motion. leaning forward, kirishima savagely buries his face between your doughy thighs, hiking them over his shoulders from beneath the desk. his nose bumps against your clit, swollen from the lack of touch as he greedily inhales your scent once more— without warning, the intern kicks a stripe up the length of your pussy, sucking your juices into his mouth and smiling against your heat.

“d-don’t tease baby, be good for me,” you remind kirishima, your body trembles with anticipation, craving an orgasm to expel the stress of your work days out. the boy between your legs only hums, the sound running straight though cunt and vibrating against it, causing you to gush and spill your arousal out onto the leather seat beneath your cheeks. eijirou feasts on the slick that seeps from your fluttering hole, gliding his tongue up and down your sex, allowing the occasional pressure from his nose to stimulate your bundle of nerves.

the pads of his thighs burn marks into your legs, using them as leverage to pull your heated core further into his mouth, “can’t help it ma’am, y’got such a pretty pussy...s’only right that i worship you…” eijirou breaths right against your puffy folds, eyes trained on the way your hole clenches around nothing. a primal urge flares in his chest, a desire— no, a need— to see you filled with something, any part of him that can make you see stars and fuck you dumb. “‘m sorry, ‘m sorry you jus look s’fucking pretty miss…”

attaching his lips to your clit, the redhead pushes the spit gathered on his tongue right over your sloppy sit, hazy ruby stare watching as his saliva mixes with your juices and slides over your empty hole. he follows the oozing trail with his tongue, lapping it up and spewing it back into your sex until the pink muscle slips past your entrance— slipping inside of you with no prior warnings. your knuckles that grasp the arms of the chair as you’re spoiled between your legs by your top intern, his hands snaking their way around the tops of your thighs to spread your sticky pussy lips apart in order to bring more of you to the cool air of the office.

“you like this don’cha? dirty little boy,” you tease the poor boy, watching as his cheeks flame with embarrassment. “being a naughty little intern between your boss’ thighs all to keep on pleasing  her, keep your position at her company, huh? fuck eiji, you just love miss riding your naughty tongue—ohmygod—“

the way you sound, voice smooth like chocolate over the obscene slurping that fills the thats air heavy with the scent of sex and, makes eijirou’s cock jump up, precum oozing from his tip as he begins to rut against the hard floor beneath your desk. he makes an attempt to respond, but your thighs lock his head in place and his words come out muffled against your core. “mph, luh it, you’re s’sexy, please ma’am—“ he mumbles sordidly against you, practically humping the ground at your feet as you pick on him.

for a brief moment, kirishima pulls away to watch you roll your hips into nothing, hot tears beginning to brew into our hooded eyes from the satisfaction he brings you with every flick and flit of his tongue against where you need him most. written in your eyes is the command to keep going, your hands twistingly sharply in red roots to bring the intern back to your sluice, spasming cunt. so he does as he’s told, shoving his tongue deep inside your ribbed, iron hot walls and dragging tip along them to collect and taste strings of your viscous juices.

biting your lip, you do your best to hold back a voracious howl, bucking your hips feverishly into your intern’s face and staining his cheeks with everything that you have— he thrusts his tongue into you to the pace of your own hips, moaning against your slippery slit until your eyes are rolling. “gonna cum from this eiji, from you eatin’ me out like this...jus need a little more— need your fingers pretty boy,” you can feel the twist of the knot in your lower tummy starting to unravel, signifying your oncoming high, and the room starts to spin while kirishima eats you out with new vigour.

“yeah? miss? you’re gonna cum for me?” the intern practically whines and pulls his tongue from your hear, almost crying as his hips thump against the floor desperate for friction. “wanna see you come undone s’bad, please cum for me, please, please—“ eijirou chants, replacing his tongue with two of his thick digits, watching as your slick cunt stretches around them accommodatingly. he jackhammers them inside of you, grunting lowly underneath the slaps of his palm against the meat of your ass, as he returns to your clit to suckle on it hungrily. his fingers curl instantly in search for the spongy spot inside of you— bearing down hard against it once it’s located.

“oh—hah, right there baby— right fuckin’ there—!” you squeal, only egging him on as white starts to cloud your vision, everything sounds so nasty and wet, while eijirou stimulates both of your pleasure spots. it becomes hard to breath, legs wobbling around his broad shoulders, but your intern doesn’t let up, determined to bring you to cloud nine.

“that’s it ma’am, right there—you’re almost there, can feel you clenching around my fingers...please cum, fuck i want your cum, wanna taste you so bad, cum. cum. cum!” and that’s all it takes, eijirou’s pleading voice between your thick thighs to make the coil inside you snap and for your orgasm to wash over you. you convulse in your chair, nectar gushing freely from your raw and overstimulated cunt, spewing all over the redheads face as he continued to lap at your clit to ride out your high.

but he doesn’t stop there, scissoring his fingers deep within your velvet walls as you continue to cum, making you shake your head and wail from the high levels of ecstasy.

“please eiji—n’more, can’t, no—“

“you can miss, i know you can—fuck you look so pretty when you’re about to squirt for me, please…”

as quickly as your first high ended, another one comes crashing over you in harsh waves— rocking your world as clear liquid floods from your pussy— the sheer force of you squirting, pushing kirishima’s fingers out from your tight, sappy hole. your release hits the floor with a crude slap, both of you moaning loudly almost for the whole world to hear. he doesn’t stop sucking, clearing up your pretty cunt even as you fade in and out of consciousness from pleasure— he stays lapping at you with burning, languid strokes of his tongue between your folds even as you weakly attempt to answer the phone now ringing from your desk.

clearing your throat, you muster up the strength to sound professional over the line before picking up the phone and bringing it towards your ear. “good afternoon, this is yn ln of shinku sports reports, bringing you the latest sporting news, how may i help you?”

‘this is the board, we need to discuss this month's stocks and reports.’

from the corner of your eye, you can see kirishima rise from his place underneath your desk— standing tall over you once more while you converse with the directors on the other end of the phone. as quietly as he can, the redhead tears through the buttons on his shirt in a similar way to you, prior to you fucking and unbuckles his slacks. he pulls down his boxers and pants in one go, revealing his thick, hard girth that stands tall and slaps against his stomach— tip an angry shade of red as precum smears across his lower belly.

you nod into the phone, forgetting that the board can’t see you as kirishima lifts you from the chair and lays you on your back across the desk littered with unread papers. “ah yes, i’ve been expecting a call from you…” you whisper so quietly instead, not caring if they’ve missed what you said. you’re hardly paying attention, choosing to wrap a fist around eijirou’s cock, slickly pumping him to prepare him to take you— he parts your thighs, eyes closing and body shuddering above you while you continue to converse with the board.

spreading the droplets of precum across his slit and iron hot tip, kirishima takes his cock from your grasp— heavily slapping it against your sensitive and swollen clit to see you jolt up the desk. “gonna fuck you so good miss, jus’ be good ‘n stay quiet for me okay?” he says, a whimper catching in the tail end of his words. you nod to him, rushed and way too eager, laying your head back on the hard wood your swimming gaze settles on kirishima as he taps the head of his cock against your hole, teasingly pushing it just past your entrance before withdrawing again.

‘ms. ln, are you still there? we really are pressed for time so we would love to start by discussing interviews for the next issue—‘

you forget that you’re still connected on the line, settling for wriggling impatiently underneath your intern, who’s caramel tinted skin glistens with sweat and his cheeks begin to flush with unadulterated desire— all from watching the way your puffy folds lube up his shaft with every push through them. you can see him losing his resolve, just as sensitive as you since he’s been holding back an orgasm and without the hint of a warning, eijirou’s hips jump forward and drive his cock into the deepest parts of your sex— brushing against your cervix. you gasp out in surprise, finally losing focus and barely manage a more comprehensive response to the board you have waiting on the line. “y-yes!— yes, yes, i’m still here… you may proceed with the meeting.”

he’s big, bigger than anyone you’ve ever had— and you’d seen a lot being a woman of your caliber this high up in the industry...but no one could compare to the way your sweet, doe eyed gentlemanly little intern filled you up, fat cock stretching your walls even with the shallow thrusts into your cunt he gives you to adjust. the weight of his girth sits heavily inside you, twitching as kirishima slides into you easily due to the stickiness lining your gummy walls, breath shaky and uneven as he holds out for you during this time. you can tell the poor boy isn’t going to last long, fingers sinking into your thighs with a harsh grip while he tries to hold himself back.

such a good boy, always waiting for your every command.

‘so we’d like to talk about the main feature for next month’s issue, do you have anyone in mind?’

the monotone voice of the board member is drowned about by kirishima’s shaky breaths above you, his pleading puppy dog eyes while he stills himself inside your spasming, puckered hole— he waits for permission, following orders like a trained pet even though he can hardly stand it, overwhelmed by the flutter of your sex around him and heat from your body despite thrown over the desk. “y-you’re s’warm...god ma’am...need to—need to move,” the redhead huffs weakly in order to keep himself quiet, a line of sweat dotting his brow. “please,”

you sit up on the desk, legs locking around his slender waist to draw him closer, sheathing more of the poor boy inside of you until he’s completely bottomed out and balls deep inside your pretty cunt. he drops his neck to your shoulder, tongue lolling over your salt licked skin before biting down to pacify himself, sharp teeth almost drawing blood while you adjust the cord of the phone. “i was thinking…thinking that we got the hockey player— the oylmpic champion…” your eyes drift to kirishima’s complacent face, giving him a nod to start moving while he sucks another bruise further down his onto your collarbone. “t-touya...touya todoroki—!”

you hiccup but play it off with a cough when kirishima pulls back his hips, so far that his girth completely leaves you, before he drives himself forward with one powerful thrust and fills you right up again. looking down, you see him bulge in your tummy, the line of his girth prominent against your body— slightly dwarfed in kirishima’s arms. you rock your hips, coaxing your intern into your warmth to help him build up a momentum of thrusts.

‘sounds like a good choice, do we have anyone who could interview him? i believe we can have PR set up an interview this week.’

the desk creaks below you, hard wood groaning along with the red head who hides himself in your neck, squeaking pathetically as he moves inside of you— precum smearing along your gummy walls that welcome his hardened shaft. your pussy opens up for eijirou like it’s welcoming him home, still growing used to the pleasure-filled burn and stretch of him pushing in and out of you. the nerves on his head catch amongst your inner ridges, making his toned body shake in ecstasy.

“m-ma’am, feel s’fucking good, so fucking good...” your intern hums against your salty skin mawkishly, large palms dropping to the flesh of your ass— kneading it to bring you closer to his body— cock barely leaving you due to your proximity. with slow strokes, eijirou fills you up, painting you with what leaks from his tip— prodding at your cervix and brushing up against your sweet spot in ways that make sweet nectar dribble from your hole.

your digits curl in his hair once more, the phone slipping from between your neck and creating rustling on your end. “eijirou,” you sigh breathily, humping back his cock while you squeeze around him selfishly, keeping your intern inside of you. “i-i mean eijirou kirishima, he’s an intern— such a… a good one at that…”

a immodest whimper brews in the base of eijirou’s throat, bubbling against his bruised lips  while you shower him with praise, indirect to him, hand snaking up to the back of your neck— tangling in your baby hairs as he pulls you up to a sloppy kiss, slotting your mouths together and running his tongue over yours. “f-fuck mommy, ‘m i your good boy? please tell me yes, fuck, yn— ma’am,”

kirishima’s voice rises in octave as it does devoir and pathos, vulnerability stays written across his handsome features as he succumbs to the mind break the heat of your damp, creamy core as he fucks into you. you throb at his use of mommy, shakily pulling the phone away from your ear to reach up to his own, nipping the earlobe and tugging on it gently. “you’re my good boy baby, keep being good eiji, be quiet...you gotta stay quiet if you want to keep fucking mommy okay? you wanna cum inside me right?” you say, words aberrant and low toned  on your tongue, your intern hisses and whines in response— nodding his head again and letting out a barely coherent ‘yes’. “then shh, baby, let mommy talk yeah?”

“hm’kay,” he babbles, dropping his ruby framed gaze to where your bodies meet, hiking your skirt further up your thighs to get a better view of your cunt staining his heavy balls with a layer of your slick.

‘ms. ln, are you sure that you want an intern to cover this case—’ the board begins to ask you, muffled from the distance away from you both.

picking up the phone again, you pull the line towards you again— mindful of capturing eijirou’s weak little mewls over the device as he languidly pumps himself in and out of you. “i know what i—fuck, what i want. eijirou, will be—oh— on the case. that's final.” you huff, watching your intern fall into a pussyhaze, his precious mind fogging with thoughts of only painting you white inside and out as a reward for helping relieve you of stress. the slow roll of his hips into yours are accompanied by the soft slaps of his skin against your own, wet and sticky— determination to make you feel good crackling across his mind.

‘there’s no need to curse, ma’am, do you need a moment to recollect yourself before we proceed with discussing the other features.’

“i’m fucking fine,” you growl, in anger or need you don’t know. but kirishima frowns, you can feel it as he start nosing up your cheek— swiping his tongue over areas of skin he hasn’t touched just yet— he grunts possessively , unhappy with the use of your title coming from anyone other than him. to prove his point, he pushes your thighs wider apart, letting you drip all over the documents sitting below your ass and ruining the ink— important or not he starts a brutal pace into your cunt and presses down on your tummy so you can feel exactly where eijirou is inside you and know that only he can make you feel this way.

‘ms.ln—‘

“i’m fine. keep going.�� you grit your teeth, biting your lip to hold down your panting— again you don’t know who you’re speaking to. your intern who slows the movement of his hips, postponing in and out of your tightened hole, clamping down on him eagerly or the stupid board member giving you grief on the phone.

they proceed to talk, barking out suggestions to your sports magazine, that you hate— even considering bringing in good for nothing athletes who’d treated you like shit in the past, and you’d sworn to never work for them again.

but it’s almost silly, how kirishima lets out small moans of mommy and ma’am, trying to keep your attention on him like you would give up grinding down on your intern’s dick for some prissy member of the board over the phone— but you love the slight possession eijirou has over you, moulding your iron hot walls into the shape of his fat dick that presses up against your pleasure spots, makes you convulse and drawl and become addicted to everything that is him. eijirou kirishima.

“takin’ me so good, so well ma’am...don’t think i can hold on anymore…please,” eijirou warns you, losing control of his body as he takes you for his own like he’s done many times before after hours— your gazes lock, you can see his desperation to ruin you, moan for you despite the people on the phone and the people outside your office.

if he grows too loud, he could give you away— they could be listening in to your poor needy little intern humping you like a feral dog and whining your name. and as much as that thought makes your hole spasm around his fat cock, make his thrusts stutter and eyes screw shut while you moan in sweet, almost silent harmony, you love your job and so weakly, you take two of your fingers, shoving them deep into eijirou’s mouth as it hangs open in heavy pants of warm air. you press down on his wet tongue, fucking into his mouth in tune with the pace of his hips plunging deep within your walls, churning up your syrupy and sticky insides.

“keep quiet, baby,”  you hiss to the redhead, who’s eyes start to brim with fresh hot tears from the overwhelming pleasure. “let mommy take care of this, yeah? finish up so you can let it all out on me.”

he sucks on your fingers to calm himself down, shallow breathing while he paws at the flesh on your sides and circles his hips into yours— letting his leaky tip bare down on your sweet spot and forcing the air out of your body. white hot pleasure flashes through your bloodstream, replacing any air of professionalism flooding through them. you can’t, you physically cannot hold back either of your orgasms— you can’t concentrate as your mind starts to fall away with the world and your gaze hones in on the way kirishima takes your fingers in his hot mouth so deep in an attempt to hush himself.

the coil in your tummy begins to unwind and the room swims once more. ‘ms.ln is everything okay over there— we need to progress with his meeting if we’re—‘ the annoying board member sounds underneath kirishima’s sloppy groans, saliva dribbling down the sides of his mouth. your dirty, good boy.

“i’m going to need to take a rain—hah— a rain check on this meeting. you’ll hear from me when my interns and i are ready—“ you huff, cutting the staff off and quickly throwing the phone onto the hook, you’ll have keigo deal with the consequences later but for now you focus on kirishima who picks you up by the ass, lifting you up and down on his cock in frantic movements as he finally loses all connections to his control. “ohmygod—eiji baby, slow—fuck, down—“

he shakes his head, latching onto your collar bone as he revels in the way you leak down his shaft and drip between his balls, lewd squelching sounds fluttering through the air hot, sex scented air at full volume. “‘m sorry ma’am— i can’t… i’m really close, i really need’ta cum...please ma’am...mommy, i’ve been good—please let me cum...“ eijirou groans heartily, from deep in his chest as if he’s finally releasing what he’s been holding back— arms flexing and the sweat from his body slicking up your own.

limbs shaking you wrap your arms around his shoulders and press your foreheads against one another, while you nod. he worked so hard to make you feel good, all day long to do the best job that he can— pressing small kisses to his lips encouragingly. “you can do it baby, one last thing for me— fill me up eiji, cum for me.” you whisper between bites and sucks on his lower lip, lined with a vibrant shade of red.

“cummin’, cummin’...miss yn, mommy—!” and then his hips come to a halt, his dick pulsing as waves of his cream line your insides with an opaque white, thick and seeping down your thighs. his fingers drop to your sensitive cunt, slipping quick circles over your swollen clit to bring you to your high. his cock never stops pumping in and out of you, pushing his seed further into your sex while you writhe and fall over the edge into your orgasm— gushing so hard you force him out of plugged and full hole.

losing his strength, kirishima collapses on top of you, pressing out both to the hard wood seat which you’re surprised  is still standing, his lips pressing fleeting kisses across your face and neck while you both come back down to earth.

and then he looks up at you with a weak smile, “did i do good?” he asks you lazily and almost sleepily— refusing to budge from laying atop you and almost crushing you with his weight.

pushing back his hair to soothe him. “always eiji, you’re not my favourite intern for nothing,” you coo at him, pulling him up to press your lips to him in a soft kiss.

“i sure hope you don’t have any other favourites, i want to be the only one who assists you like this,” kirishima says, remaining tangled with you for a moment more in your office, content with snuggling into your exposed and bruised side.

you share a sleepy giggle, intending to clean up later— eijirou completely forgetting about the lunch he’d promised the other interns after your meeting.

oh well, assisting you was a much better treat than spending time with any one else.

[lily-drake]

He Stole My Heart So I Stole His

Previous

Secret santa for: @silverwhiteraven

Co-author: @cyber-geist

Chapter 9: A Reveal and Pure Chaos:

Now considering the fact that the two had finally acknowledged their love for each other it shouldn’t have surprised the rest of the class that the amount of ‘thievery’ would increase. Still with the swapping of various clothing items, and various everyday objects it seemed that no one including Felix and Marinette had anticipated what would happen when their most important objects had gone missing. More specifically when Marinette had snagged Plagg’s Miraculous. Felix felt like an idiot. He had forgotten to take the miraculous off last night and give it back to Adrien for the day shift, and now he was paying for that mistake. Usually when they stole things from each other at the end of the day they just returned them to each other the next day or inevitably kept the things they liked. But while he trusted Marinette to be responsible with his miraculous, she was Multi Mouse after all. Still he wasn’t thrilled about A. the idea of giving up his and his brothers secret identity, and B. the inevitable things that Plagg was bound to tell her about him. The very thought of B. sent shivers down his spine and he shuddered violently.

So here he was pounding down the street toward the bakery where Marinette lived in a desperate attempt to stop the inevitable disaster that Plaggs words would cause. He slowed just before the bakery brushing a hand across his blazer and through his hair and plastering a smile on his face before entering the bakery. He waved politely at Marinette's parents and asked if it was ok for him to go up and see Mari. He’d only done this a few times since they started dating in the last month, but they already loved him and waved him right on upstairs.

Now Felix had expected many things when he burst through Marinette's bedroom door, but a red faced Marinette with her face buried in her hands, while a small red and black kwamii beat the heck out of Plagg both verbally and physically, was absolutely nowhere one his list. He stood there in shock for a good minute before slowly clearing his throat.

Marinette’s head shot up and the two kwamiis turned toward him all of them adopting fighting stances. Felix pinched the bridge of his nose.

“So your Ladybug?’

Marinette nodded mutely, and Felix sighed again staring disbelievingly at the ceiling.

“How on earth were we both so dense as to miss this?”

A smile began to play on her lips, Marinette shrugged.

“I mean you stalked my brother for years and me by extension, how on earth did you not see the pattern, and how on earth did I not notice that the two kindest, and bravest people in my life were the same person?!”

Small smile transforming into a grin Marinette lunged at him and he caught her wrapping his arms gently but firmly around her waist and back as he tucked her head beneath his chin.

“I don’t know we really must be hopeless.”

Felix laughed and kissed her nose.

“Truly impossible.”

There was a blissful moment of silence then a gagging noise filled the room, and Marinette turned bright red turning to the laptop on her desk. A face similar to Marinette’s own, eerily similar in fact but with darker skin peered through the screen on vid call a single judging eyebrow raised over two radioactive green eyes.

“Really أخت ('ukht) truly I had anticipated this sort of behavior from Grayson. The amount of physical affection occurring right now is frankly appalling.”

Marinette inhaled deeply and buried her face in Felix’s chest letting out a low gutteral groan that sounded frankly inhuman.

“Damiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii! Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!  I just wanted a nice moment with my boyfriend!”

The boy, Damian apparently sent her a look that said how clearly unimpressed he was with her.

“From the only warrior I respected besides Cass, Mother, Father, and Alfred, you have managed to fall to a level of disgrace lower than Grayson. Congratulations sister you have made the achievement known as ‘PDA orineated overzealous girlfriend’ I am truly disappointed.”

Marinette whirled around and pointed a finger at the computer screen and opened her mouth to argue but then paused as she thought about it.

“I concede your point.”

Damien smiled smugly for a brief annoyingly long moment before Marinette smiled sharply.

“However A. You should know I have the skills to regain that respect, and B. you're one to talk ‘Mr.-snuggles-with-his-girlfriend-every-time-she-so-much-as-breathes-in-your-presence’.”

Damien flushed scarlet,

“I DO NOT!”

Marinette nodded and hummed, tapping a thoughtful finger to her chin.

“Hmmmm then perhaps I should call her and tell her just how much you truly despise physical affection, just to make you more comfortable of course.”

With an incomprehensible demonic sounding squawk of outrage Damian lunged toward the screen screaming protests and profanities while Marinette laughed in amusement. Damian hit the screen and there was a brief moment of spinning and crashing sounds as he disappeared from view, and then…

“DAMIAN I SWEAR IF YOU BROKE DICK’S COMPUTER THAT I JUST FIXED I WILL KILL YOU AND NO WILL EVER FIND YOUR BODY AND YOUR PETS WILL ALL BE DONATED TO THE NEAREST MEAT SHOP!!!!!”

A sound of unholy rage screeched from the other side as the small demonic child known as Damian launched himself at whoever had spoken there was the sound of a cut off scream and then the screen went dark as a sword appeared on screen. No doubt the blade was the reason for the sudden cut off connection. Felix stared at it for a moment before turning toward Marinette.

“I take it that's the “Demon Spawn” your brothers mentioned in our…visit over the phone last time.”

Marinette blinked innocently at him.

“Why, whatever do you mean? Damian a Demon? Never. He’s practically a little angel. Whatever gave you the impression as to otherwise?”

Felix raised a single eyebrow in imitation of the green eyed little monster.

“I don’t know, perhaps it was the slightly to spiky hair. I never did like people with spiky hair.”

Marinette nodded pensively.

“True, that is a very valid point.”

Then the two promptly burst into laughter, and sat down. Somehow despite the massive reveal that had just occurred nothing felt different and everything felt right with the world. That should have been Felix’s first warning sign of the doom to come…

******************

Tikki and Felix stood on Marinette's balcony during his free period. Usually he used this time to complete more paperwork or read up on new business information, but he felt that for today this would be far more profitable.  He felt now that he was dating Marinette, it was alright and gave him the perfect opportunity to get back at her brothers for hacking his phone.  Tikki, who was in the room with him, agreed with his plan and even encouraged it.  He had also brought the idea up to Marinette, she laughed and said that it was a horrible idea, but said that she didn’t care and he would (hopefully) be fine if he did.

He and Tikki shared a grin and he slipped into Marinette's room. He set her bag on her bed and snagged a small earpiece Tikki told him connected to the boys who had hacked his phone. She warned him that they hadn’t had Tim with them at the time and that he may want to hide from electronics for a few days after this as Tim was a force to be reckoned with, but otherwise this plan was relatively harmless.  Pocketing the earpiece, Felix slid down the drain pipe connected to Marinette's balcony and headed to the park. He sat on a bench and pulled out the earpiece. Then with a smirk, he turned it on. Second’s later a voice came over the line.

“Yo, Pixie Pop what's up?”

Felix chuckled, then he cleared his throat and began to speak in thickly accented english.

“Hello this is the boy you hacked a few months ago, I returned the favor and have managed to find a way to contact you as well. I know who you really are and if you don’t leave me alone, I will send a very nasty surprise to your location, and prank Marinette for the foreseeable future.”

There were a few choice curses and then another voice could be heard in the background.

“Tracking the device now.”

The voice was cool and calm, and for some reason sent shivers down Felix’s spine. That must be Tim, and from what Tikki had said he did NOT want to mess with this man. Quickly setting down the headpiece Felix booked it back to school and hid in the library. Hopefully nothing would go tooooooo wrong. Oh how wrong he was.

Felix needed help while the video call that had appeared on the library computer screen had shown him Jason, Damien, and Dick armed with various weapons and in full Bat regalia, which what the heck? The Bats? Really? Of all the people for Mari to be related to! He’d thought he knew who they were, he had been oh so very wrong, and perhaps may have put himself in more danger then he had originally anticipated. He’d thought they were a minor mafia family or something, not some of  the literal most dangerous humans on the entire planet!

Regardless, while those three had shown up on screen, Tim had not, and he was easily the biggest threat to him at the moment. While the others had somehow teleported to Paris and begun to pursue him, he’d largely been able to evade them. Tim, yea not so much. Anything with any form of wireless connection was tracking him and either attacking or pursuing him, the city had come to life and it was highly intelligent. Strangely enough and thankfully for him Tim seemed to want to mess with him personally and hadn’t led the other bats to him just yet. He honestly just seemed to be toying with Felix which while highly irritating also made him nervous. He was currently cornered and a news screen in the shop near him lit-up the Rook symbol blazing to life. There was a quiet moment as he stared the screen down, heart in his throat before a voice cleared its throat. It was heavily modulated and cold. The voice was inhumanly even. Oh dang it all.

Felix wanted to just go hide underground for a few centuries of course Tim would be Rook!  It made sense honestly after his conversation with the man and then later with the Wayne family he should have made the connection.  But oh no, the thought had never crossed his mind and now he was currently face to face, or at least electronic to face with someone that everyone who knew of him agreed was easily one of the most dangerous people in the world. He’d heard about him from Plagg and that was about it the guy had gone seriously far underground after his period as Red Robin everyone thought he’d retired, or died, but after asking Plagg about Rook after their last conversation the Kwamii had revealed that Rook was actually a remarkably suitable candidate for multiple miraculi and that he was in fact a highly skilled and dangerous individual, and it seemed Felix had managed to tick him off. Finally the tense silence was broken by Tim-no Rook’s voice.

“Based on the expression on your face I’m guessing that when you said ‘I know who you are’ this was not in fact what you were referring to, and that now because of my siblings rushing into action you actually do know our identities and are suitably panicked.”

Felix nodded mutely, and Rook sighed tiredly,

“I have not had nearly enough coffee for this.”

He groaned loudly, thumping his head against what sounded like a hard desk.

“I am currently running on two hours of sleep in the past four days and would really like to not deal with this right now.  But since the rest of my family with a few exceptions is both incompetent and wildly dangerous to anyone they are unreasonably mad at it seems I am going to have to.”

There was an inhuman groaning sound that reminded Felix of Marinette's reaction to her brother a few days ago, and then Rook spoke again and despite the voice modulator he sounded so thoroughly done and dead that Felix felt a little bit guilty and sorry for the man. He hadn’t meant to cause this much trouble for him.

“Alright follow the drone I’m sending your way I’ll keep you safe from the rest of my family while I talk them down from their frankly annoying and completely unfounded murderous frenzy.”

There was a bunch of grumbling on the other end and as Felix followed the drone around he couldn’t help but feel like he was glad that Rook was on his side. Explosions sounded on the other side of the city as well as what sounded like several high pitched screams. Felix shuddered. Oh he was so VERY glad.

~Fin~

ENDNOTE:

*Night of the wedding* Felix: Adrien I will need you to take the night shift for me and Ladybug tonight. Adrien: I understand why I would need to for you, but why Ladybug? Felix: …… Felix: You do realize that I am marrying Ladybug, correct? Adrien: No?!  You're marrying Marinette. Felix: …… Felix: Adrien my sweet naive brother, how on earth did you not know she’s Ladybug? Adrien: No she’s Multi Mouse.  Did you hit your head or something? Felix: *breathes deeply* Adrien that was a fake out on her part to trick Hawkmoth.  The actual Multi Mouse is her sister, Cassandra, and only sometimes. Adrien: ….. Adrien: WAIT YOUR MARRYING THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!!!! HOW COULD YOU?!  THE ABSOLUTE BETRAYAL!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Felix: Adrien do you even love Marinette? Adrien: …… Adrien: She’s just a frie- *dejectedly* Oh dang it all that's why you got her and I didn’t, isn’t it? Felix: You're welcome.  Your idiocy has officially faded just enough for you to finally see the error of your ways. Adrien: ….. Adrien: One of these nights I will kill you in your sleep and no one will ever believe it was me cause I’m the nice twin. Felix: *rolls his eyes* Good luck with that.  I’ve got her chaotic family to protect me. Adrien: *smiles sweetly* true but I know more than anyone thinks I do, or did you forget the Great Art Piece Incident? Felix: *eyes widen and slight shudder* alright fine I acknowledge the danger you pose and so dearly and from the bottom of my heart dear brother mine I ask that you do not kill me. Adrien: *stares at him for a long moment* You owe me a favor, understood? Felix: *sweats nervously* understood.

Taglist:

@aespades @adrestar @astrynyx @doll246 @queenz-z @toodaloo-kangaroo @crazylittlemunchkin @seraphichana @miraculous-ninja @dorkus-minimus @mysticsoulgirl @ritacrow-blog @snow-leopard-777 @fidget-eep @sometandomstuff333

[lilmajorshawty]

The Signs Vs The Houses Sun Edition 🎇

Sun In Aries Vs Sun In First House: 

(Pantheon God Ares Vs Lucifer Morning Star.)

Sun in Aries: Pantheon God Ares

Song: _By. Alexander - Trumpets Ft 070Shake

These Natives don’t readily showcase their independent traits outright but their intensity is actively expressed in different ways from one another almost like reverse parts of a long mirror. Sun in Aries natives are actively nonchalant, impartial and seemingly low energy to those who don’t know their outward appearance is merely a facade. Aries suns aren’t readily expresses of their more generic traits, their impulsive nature is often hidden underneath their calm demeanor. unlike sun in the 1st housers Aries suns are good at playing into a more watered down version of themselves if it serves to aid the type of reaction they will get from the audience of their choice. They much like Pisces can be deceptively charming, disarming and tremendously jovial but underneath this lay a impulsive, reactive and swift minded individual. Aries suns are more observant than they are open warfare types, meaning that their darker side is something revealed in quiet privacy. They are in actuality very polite and keep much of their outward passions in check as to not alert others of their intentions before the Aries sun native has already assessed the consequences their potential action might bring. They are tactitions  in nature much like the war god ares, much of their actions are weighed and planned. much is done in secrecy or in the safety net of a desired outcome for them. They naturally seem disinterested or bored by their surroundings but can also have a testy, or rather flighty energy around being in spaces for longer than they intended. Their frigidity nature is a reflection of mars needing to be in control but the rather prideful way of the sun itself not liking to seem overly brash in order to seem regal. in this sense the sun and mars are in conflict for sun in Aries so they in turn prefer to keep their shadow face a bit more slow burn than people can perceive it to be. Aries suns are sweet and ardent but they can sometimes struggle with telling the truth, unlike their moon counterpart. Aries sun in a more masculine spirit Tends to be the most immature with their desires, mainly being self invested. Aries sun in feminine spirit tends to be most immature with their sexuality, readily wanting to claim the sexual limelight due to their appetite for admiration. on two sides of the coin underdeveloped Aries suns within masculine energy can struggle to see the world beyond “their” needs and “their” wants, the feminine can struggle to separate their over identification with physical gratification making them seem jealous and gluttonous for attention to those looking from the outside in.They are passionate but narcissistic. They care about those closest to them but they also battle between love for others and love for the self. Aries suns are in a never ending battle with the concept of I and how the I relates to Others. Aries sun signs definitely live by the “apart of my tribe” mentality and usually have a hard time dealing with outsiders. That being said they are a thousand times more tame then most give them credit for and only those who have been around the natives for long can ever really see their darker nature that they prefer to keep under raps. Aries suns are very loving nonetheless and dare i say the most emotionally affectionate of the fire suns. They genuinely do try for those they carefor and they honestly live by a strong code of right or wrong. despite what they might want they always recognize whether or not the action they plan on committing is morally correct or morally incorrect.

Sun in the First house: Lucifer Morningstar

Song: _By.Alexander - Stalling 

Sun in the 1st Housers are quite different in terms of their immediate personality traits, because unlike Aries suns they are not under the space of just mars depending on what their sun sign is already in. rather they are swimming in the pool of mars while wearing their sun sign. Sun in the 1st house natives can be Intense, cynical, Dark and brooding. They have this perceptiveness about the world around them that can seem unnerving. People are in their eyes to comfortable with stillness and it bothers them, as they are mentally just as much as physically always moving, 100 steps ahead of everyone. To many this may seem like a blessing but it’s a curse for these natives as it creates a constant inner and outer need for chaos in some way. They want to maintain a certain level of opposition and transformation in themselves and in the environments they find themselves in. For them things could always be rearranged and redone and the more stagnant the view things the more unhappy they become as they see peace as a reflection of “lack” in themselves. in those with a masculine spirit sun in the 1st house can make them impatient, aggressive, aloof and cold in its worst but brave, perceptive, kind and generous in its healthy state. In those with feminine spirit it can make them cutthroat, rigid, blinded by the self and confrontational in its worst but vibrant, childlike, bold, and sharp of mind in its healthier state. Unlike sun in Aries these natives aren't impressed or worried about how they interact with others.  These natives can seem dismissive or uninterested in people mainly because they are only impressed by people with “strength” in the manner of which they perceive strength to look like. much like Lucifer these natives live in the dark and admire those who have suffered or experienced the trenches of life only to rise from its ashes without a single complaint. to them people who can fight without seeking coddling or attention for those struggles are attractive and relatable. people who are attention seekers, overly emotional or dependent are typically what these natives avoid or tend to be the coldest towards. The reason being is that these natives underneath their cold and rather independent face are deeply sensitive and receptive to the feelings of others, but when they were young this receptiveness was often taken advantage of by the world around them. people ate these natives up and forced them to build their own personal hell to build themselves in, because in their eyes the only hell scarier then the one someone makes for you is the one you make for yourself. These natives are ambitious but also deeply full of life and vigor but to those who don’t know them deeper you may never know that beneath this light lay very serious and steady individuals willing to do whatever it takes to survive. these natives are constantly interchanging between Life and Death.

Sun In Taurus Vs Sun In The Second House:

(Artemis vs Higher Angel Metatron.)

Sun in Taurus: Artemis

Song: Ama Lou - Wires 

sun in Taurus natives often represented by the bull are deserving of their steady and rather slow moving personality traits..Though in conjunction one might add in their mental gymnastics that put even the mighty Aquarius, Gemini, Libra Air trinity to shame. These natives are tremendously intellectual, they see and feel everything out just as much as they add a thick layer of rationality and logic to it. To them anything and everything can go wrong and most likely is so they tend to present themselves in a more compartmentalized way as to prevent this. on one hand they are solid and sensual in their approach to life, on the other they are distrusting and closed to outsiders. they value a certain level of work ethic in others and that is typically what softens their heart as opposed to be overly nice or suckups. they tend to be intense and insatiable but these traits are hidden underneath their polite and soft toned Venus haze. For Taurus, Venus serves merely as a cloudy ethereal presence rather than a solid body like it does for Libras which is genuinely why the two are so similar yet so deeply different. Taurus suns value a calm serenity but they value an authentic air to cultivate such serenity whereas Libras value the serenity that is without to much heaviness or demand. Taurus suns are naturally stable and patient folk, not much moves them out of character and once it does all of the magma and debris flies into the sky like radiating solar flares. These natives are insanely aware of themselves and the actions and motives of said actions of others. to them intimacy through the physical realm is the only real way to see someone and in a sense for them touch is their language. these natives are lovers of sex but contrary to belief Taurus suns just like Scorpio sun see sex a soul transaction rather than just “sex.” to them being able to meet every individual layer of a person beyond what they present is true understanding. Scorpios suns look to sex as a emotional collaboration of wounds and vulnerabilities whilst Taurus suns on the yang side of that spectrum look at sex as a Physical collaboration of involved and aware relinquishing of the self in its physical form to another. For Taurus suns they find themselves trapped between the concept of “what do they mean to me vs what do i mean to them.” this mentality often creates a emotional nature that causes them pain in life as they never really know when to let go of people, they hold onto people out of a fear of losing something important to them on a mentally materialistic plane. The men tend to handle the Taurus sun the worst as it often brings out a vain and rather expansive nature that is centered around using their possessions as lay way for their self worth. to them in their worse state their material possessions and their bodies become nothing more than tokens to scale their level of self worth which they ultimately base in the opinions of complete strangers. Taurus women/feminine energy folk tend to handle the energy well, mainly embracing their sensuality and sexuality although sometimes falling prey to their bullheaded and rather single minded advances towards life at times. in their best they can be captivating, preserving, and deeply empathetic of the woes and demons of others taking them on fearlessly. Taurus suns greatest foe as well as their biggest give away is their single-minded nature, once something catches their eye it becomes a mission, a life purpose and at times an obsession.

Sun In the Second House: Higher Angel Metatron 

song: Ama Lou- This Town

For second house sun natives their similarities can often times shadow them after Taurus mainly due to the very calm and rather steady disposition they naturally posses. That being said much like the angel metatron as mentioned in text they have a far more raw energy that ensnares people to them like a spider web. They often times maintain a cool distance emotionally from those around them as to never reveal their inner thoughts but this at times gives them a much darker shade then Taurus suns as they are not as nearly well meaning in their observations of others. these natives are insanely perceptive but they tend to use this perceptiveness to read the crowd so to speak. many of us may struggle to adapt to every personality in the room or shift personas as a means of getting from point A to B in an unwanted interaction where as Second house sun natives can shift personas as will due to their gift for micro analysis. They can read a room, the people and the energy of each individual from mere glances and that makes them incredibly charming but also a tad unreadable as much of what they are showing is far away from what they truly feel. These natives are powerful in the sense that they have a vision that Taurus suns are themselves afraid to truly use. You see second house suns are often in control of their environment because they alter themselves in the necessary form needed to gain the upper hand.Many of them do well in performance art like acting because it allows them to convey their inner world without letting on its source. They often times shy away from commitments as they require the natives to be the real self vs the self they cultivate. Unlike Taurus suns who operate authentically these natives operate in a way that fits the authentic need of the people without having to give up any of their real ego. These natives also aren’t as caught up in the materialistic side of life rather they are obsessed with their self esteem and how that self esteem is equated in the real world around them. For them their biggest fear is being misused or taken advantage of and very often so life puts them in a situation where this happens to teach them a level of boundaries between themselves and that of the people who surround them. They tend to be highly passive when it comes to loss in their life. they factor the loss of people whether by death or by them leaving one another’s life as just another one of the misfortunes of the world, in their eyes it can’t be avoided and is an eventuality but even so they must continue to move forward with or without others. This trait alone separates them from their Taurus sun counterparts. They value people who are gentle and preserving but these people albeit their perfect match tend to scare sun in the second house natives the most as the idea of someone who will love them fully disgust them in a way, mainly because deep down these natives don’t truly identify with their need to be accepted and loved because it is devoured by their need to move forward at all cost. these natives teeter between the collective vs the self and often find themselves inevitably choosing the self yet resenting the loneliness that follows suite

Sun In Gemini Vs Sun In The Third House:

(The Devil Vs Satan)

Sun In Gemini: The Devil

Song: Kendrick Lamar - U

These Natives often receive much bad mouthing and malice as their traits are normally misunderstood or mis-identified as Gemini itself being a mutable sign makes it a sign that mirrors energy that is given to it onto the person sending the energy. Gemini Suns on their own are outwardly controlled and restless but internally they are a landscape of thoughts, that multiply and divide like the cells in the human body. They are like compact computers in this sense because their mental scape at times is carrying Gigabytes upon gigabytes of thought process.They are living in a busy head-space often so much of their day to day involves them tussling with their voices and which side to listen to, which one to ignore, which to dive into and so on. This is often why these natives Live for interaction and communication, the less mental release the darker the head-space and the darker the head-space the more dangerous the Gemini. The lack of stimulation can present itself as addictions, self destructive behavior and outright hatred that seems to have no source. these natives more than most feed of human contact, it provides them a way to see beyond their mind and peer into another’s for a moment of relief. Gemini suns are very tender and affectionate, often loving physical sensations as they bring new understandings and mental curiosity to the native. they often adore sex but not for the act itself but for the many sides of sex, the control, the lack of it, the passion and the lack of it, the intimacy and the lack of it, the desire and also the lack of it, to these natives they all swirl around like aspects of a cocktail. lying and creating chaos is an aspect of their two headed serpent like nature but often times the shadow self of the Gemini is the most damaged version of themselves hidden away to maintain a level of sanity for the Gemini twin in charge. Gemini sun tend to have this dualistic side to them that can sometimes present itself as real bipolar disorder but this is not something that can be applied to realism as all astrology really is, is a map for better self understanding. These natives at times fluctuate between moments of peace and moments of chaos depending on which twin makes it’s appearance.  Much like the Devil these natives can carry a sharp and mischievous tone but they can also have an angelic and rather childish youth to them that is so promising and inviting like white wine underneath dying autumn leaves as summer turns to fall. They represent a deep darkness in humanity whilst also representing the angel the devil was before he fell out of grace. Gemini suns are radiating with knowledge and tid bits that could unsettle the world but they never read the whole story, the whole scripture, they hang on to the small details and create a world around it. Gemini suns tend to struggle in their early years due to the push and pull dynamic of the angel and demon complex and at times a state of passivity is reached where they could care less either way how and what is effected by their actions. These natives despite their struggles are enterprising and gifted with an intellect beyond comprehension. They masculine and feminine energy tend to struggle with this placement as it naturally represents both in both energies. much like the devil they have a rather gender less energy when it comes to the world around them which is often why many Gemini suns are bisexual or pansexual as their desires are often times less about the physical and more about the mental. they can seem to be a chameleon  due to how easily they can shift in and out of personalities but ultimately they aren’t so much so becoming someone else, they’re becoming the other twin. The secondary Gemini face is unlike the devil it is angelic and curious, innocent and loving but it’s pitfall is wrath and spite. As im sure these are traits you would apply to the devil no? well in this case the angelic Gemini twin wears them as a means of not handling their wounds properly. Gemini suns unlike most people put their hurt away by passing it on to the other twin who soaks it like a sponge, as a result over the years whenever the twin rears it’s head and is mistreated as a defense mechanism it reacts in these darker toned ways that can at times be devoid of humanity due to that twin being so lacking in interaction with people. Gemini suns often struggle with the inner and outer mind. for them they desperately search for a mental release of some form and often times it takes precedence over all things no matter how grounded the Gemini Sun. a never ending therapy session full of broadness and intellectual depth is their dream as in their most vulnerable state they desperately want to be seen, not just as one face but both faces.

Sun In the Third House: Satan

Song: Kendrick Lamar- Untitled 07(Levitate) 

These natives can only be described as isolated princesses & Prince solemnly watching the world circle around their creations and crafts like moths to a flame. They are so vastly different from their counterparts in the sense that for them the world is more like a game then it is a cage. They are savvy, quick of wit and naturally street smart. Many of them prance through the world as if they’ve lived in the projects, the ghetto, or the slums as it is what allows them to use the more scarce methods, having very little and even in some cases building from ash and managing to create whole empires in the place of it.  To them the concept of “lack” fuels their desire to expand the concept of having nothing. To them the world is built upon fallacies and they wish to unsheathe them by playing into the role of the underdog, the follower or the easy going lover and friend until they ultimately get to the place they had been dying to reach only to sever ties, turn on, vilify or in some cases tear down those who helped them get there. Now to many of you this may sound like an evil way to get by in the world but you must understand unlike Gemini suns these natives don’t live solely in the mind rather they live in the minds of others, to them their life’s purpose is understanding the patterns and desires of others so they themselves can mold themselves into those desires, so they can predict those patterns..all of it is like chess. For them to have the higher ground on the world at large plays into their need to remain ambiguous and Elite. The masculine and feminine much Like Gemini sun present themselves as the gender or energy type that suites them at the moment. You need them to be passive? they already closed their mouth and you haven’t released you already called all the shots..you want them to be passionate and aggressive, they’ve already controlled the day, they’ve changed the way they grip you, the way they lock eyes with you..these natives can be anything, anyone..because for them the art of playing to an illusion is a survival tactic one the learn at an early age to cultivate otherwise the world will defeat them and that is something they just cannot allow much like the concept of the world peaks Satan curiosity he must constantly venture, among the people to understand them as a means of never losing, never falling short or missing a step at watching the creations of the man he despises so dearly evolve. These natives are alluring, sweet, loving but in many ways they can seem missing, far away and sometimes unavailable both emotionally and physically. the reason being is that unlike Gemini suns these natives do not need to be heard, they need to be ahead and once they feel tied or held down by something they’ve already fleshed out and had their time with their restless need to be ahead comes out and they soon gravitate their focus elsewhere. Their constantly at war with the concept of Do i understand it all vs do i understand enough at all?

Sun In Cancer Vs Sun In The Fourth House:

(Arch Angel Gabriel Vs The Deity Tsukuyomi)

Sun In Cancer: Arch Angel Gabriel 

Song: Daughter - Amsterdam 

These natives contrary to belief are not as lacking in emotional awareness nor are they as gullible as other might like to believe them to be. One of the most frightening traits of cancer Sun’s is their ability to emotionally detach from people and situations in a rather abrupt manner. These natives are emotive but in some ways the emotions aren’t always backing the action. Cancer suns fall into the behavior of sometimes being nice for being nice’s sake and often times care more about the feelings of others than they do themselves. In more underdeveloped masculine energies this can rear it’s head as emotional narcissism, thinking the whole room revolves around their feelings and their feelings only, leaving everyone else to have to play pick up the pieces for someone who refuses to take accountability. in some of the even lesser versions this can cause manipulation of the emotional variety, using someones vulnerability as a weapon  are sometimes tactics of masculine energy cancers and Feminine energy cancers who failed to acknowledge the skeletons in their own closet. Cancer suns often remind me of Gabriel in the sense that they carry his will of doing what is needed rather than what is wanted. Cancer Suns understand the difference between need and want and often times center their life around such inclinations. To them everyone no matter where they come from desires things they don’t truly need and fortify things they want only for a moment. As a result cancer suns tend to prioritize people, things and places under the laws of what they need and what they want and often times they can turn a cold shoulder to the things they feel are momentary even if it’s a person. Cancer Suns can be powerful, enigmatic and divinely feminine no matter their gender due to their inner desire to nurture and care for others, no matter how underdeveloped or developed these natives are the desire to protect and care for others is their base setting. Many as they age become more and more like their mother, often adopting the qualities they admired most and showcasing the negative ones when under stress or moments of trauma. These natives are deeply loving and caring and at times this gets taken advantage of but only briefly as Cancer suns are almost Demonically vindictive. The natives see colors on people and tend to be highly spiritually perceptive of auras and presence within people without even exchanging words. They tend to be closed when it comes to their feelings and contrary to social media cancer Suns do not express their inner feelings readily, much like a crab they withhold and protect their underbelly often coming towards things in a side to side manner much like a crab Even more so when they are a Cancer Rising. They tend to only really open their souls to those precious to them and often times when Cancer Sun’s feel they’ve over shared they retreat and often times disappear unless reassured that the person is kind and honest. Cancer Suns despise fakes and those who are emotionally careless and rude so often times they can become dismissive and down right aggressive in an almost warrior like way when confronted by rudeness or self centered behavior. Cancer Suns have a pronounced sexuality, as they represent femininity in it’s motherly form they often embody it’s glow and sway whilst remaining Innocent and seemingly unknowing. Cancer Sun’s often become more balanced as they age as many of them see their progressed sun move into Leo which aids with the confidence and the ability to balance out their darker head spaces that arise emotionally. They can have Strong emotions and because of this in some cases some people with this placement can struggle with such things such as depression and and or manic depression, that being said this is not a product of having sun in cancer, this can happen to anyone. Cancer Suns do have fluctuating emotional states that can fly between happy weeks and months to times of solemn and lethargic states and this is often more so seen in all cancer Suns no matter whether they are in a good place or bad. the key for them is to learn identification so that way they can deal with the emotion when it comes and let it run it’s course without submerging themselves in it. Cancer suns often battle with the concept of Nurture Vs Nature. To them they feel as if it’s their divine purpose to care for others, and they feel like people should be caring enough to consider more than just themselves but in truth the world isn’t always like that and some people are indeed selfish and often times this realization of self motivation perplexes Cancer suns because on a deeper level they don’t know how to disconnect from their need to solely focus on the well being of others whilst also worrying about their own health and emotional well being.

Sun In The Fourth House: The Deity Tsukuyomi

Song: Daughter - Numbers

Ah These natives are truly a never ending Dream starting so pleasant and continuously transitioning like phases of the moon into A nightmare, a sunset, a wet dream, a night terror over and over.These natives are Vague in their difference From their sun counterpart. They seem Emotional and Actually are just as emotional as their actions give way for them to be. But in reverse order these natives do sentimental actions in seldom as they prefer to hide their softer side and present a more aloof front. Unlike Cancer suns the idea of being nice for the sake of it isn’t their forte, rather niceness that is earned is more their language. they admire a certain level of genuine feeling but despise it at the same time due to the roller coaster it sends them on. They often remind me of the Japanese God Tsukuyomi for their tenacity, their often proud and pious nature that dare i say is more Leo archetype than Leo is itself. These natives are proud of their home, to them home is a castle but oddly enough a castle they can’t stand to stay in for to long. They are not homebodies and in many cases tend to see a desire for exploration outside their home towns and often times the countries itself. These natives suffer from emotionally impulsive streaks, often entangling themselves in situations without guarding their heart because unlike Cancer suns these natives have no emotional awareness, they play everything by ear including their heart and that often throws them in an inescapable abyss that tends to devour them. Though these natives are kind at times they are also pompous, they are loving but they’re selfish about how this love is expressed. They want everything on their time often forgetting about the emotional side of things for other people and this is where they get in trouble and why people at times find them overbearing or unreachable. These natives are passionate and insanely creative, often the magnitude of this creativity as limitless as their reservoir of emotion. They wear everything loudly but also hide parts that they need when it’s convenient.  these natives are rather childlike in their personality due to the fact that they don’t care much if their blatant about their disinterest or lack of concern and dare i say this is one of their worst and best traits. They don’t fake it and love or hate them they don’t give a shit. They can be tremendously spiteful though which is even more so pronounced in the feminine energy than it is the masculine. Their struggle lies in the concept of To Have and Not to have, they often times fall prey to the desire to feast and never end never once realizing that once it’s all gone they’ll have nothing. They also fail sometimes to except that just because they want to have something the other person or people in question do not also have to want it and this at times is where they minds clash, because they genuinely do not understand why people are not seeing it their way. Their moods are worse than cancer suns due to the fact that they are not aware of they are having them, this means that they can fly into a mean state without realizing they’ve shifted and this at times can make them seem far more unpredictable then they mean to be. These natives are so loving and genuinely do mean well but their ego does get the best of them with this placement quite a bit.

Sun In Leo Vs Sun In The Fifth House:

(The Sun God Ra Vs The God Of Destruction Shiva)

Sun In Leo: The Sun God Ra

Song: Empress of - Should’ve 

In Certain Ways one can always find themselves confused at the hands of Leo Suns, As direct, Honest and bold as they may be parts of their personality are layered in rather elusive undertones. Leo suns are typically Vibrant, confident souls who march to the beat of their own blazing chariot and drum to match, but much of this bravado is burning so fervently as a means of hiding the softer and in many ways more docile side of these native. They pursue life in a zesty and at times rather emotionally flighty manner as to not ruffle the feathers of those who can’t keep up with them though they can’t help but relish in the fact that they themselves create energy and disperse it where ever they go and not one person can take that away from them. Despite this though Leo suns battle with their Ego on a daily basis and it’s a battle they don’t show the world. Much to their lament their heart at times has a goal of it’s own and no matter how hard they try to live by the flame eventually their flames seethe and reveal their true nature which is much more unsure, much more sentimental and compassionate. Leo Suns are deeply feeling and them being a fixed sign makes these emotions hit like an entire solar system when it happens. Though they hate to admit it they are sensitive, they want to be loved and seen authentically but are also scared of this vulnerability. For the masculine energy this can cause a flighty nature especially in the realm of the heart. Many masculine Leo’s will brake up or pull the “it’s a little too much for me” “ i think maybe we should take a brake” “i want to keep things casual,” approach with romance and things can be going great, marriage worthy and suddenly they pull out. Why? well Leo suns in their masculine spirit are deeply fearful of their feminine side, to them the idea of submission in any form even if it’s to their own heart is a weakness and one they would rather avoid. When this happens they trick themselves into becoming more sexual, more in need of the bachelor life style when in reality they know deep down they want your love, to be loved and accepted whole beyond the meaningless ass kissing they receive. This back and forth nature of their’s does continue sometimes but once they truly open their heart their love is that of a thousand burning blue suns turning the most tremendous white. For them love is their weakness and they seek to present this strong and rather disconnected stance for as long as they can because to them maintaining that powerful and free energy is their soul and to give up their soul for love is their destiny albeit one they detest. These natives are insanely willful and will fight tooth and nail to create, explore and build no matter the obstacle but that being said these natives battle their need to “escape” which can often lead them into addictive behavior as they need to run away from the feeling especially once the flames start to die down. These natives tend to be emotionally unavailable and give everyone the most calm and yet sincere showing of love but underneath i promise their is a depth and well of passion. In the feminine Leo energy is calm and proud but it is also more in-tune with the need for emotion and softness despite the universal Leo energy need for emotional tightness as to not show the world their hide. These natives often struggle with the Theme of Acknowledgement vs Rejection. For them the idea of acknowledging a weakness, a love or a vulnerability is death for them so as a result they reject it for as long as they can however they can and in this process they destroy themselves and the relationships they hold dear. they spend much time wrapped in the concept of accepting the way the feel and not running away from the side of the selves that isn’t shrouded in those glamorous flames. They are caring beyond belief despite the way those flames may fool the world, And dare i say out of many of the signs Leo Sun’s genuinely have hearts of gold in every way. Though Much Like Ra these natives are seen by many under many guises and faces many of which are farther away from the true kinded hearted soul underneath that truly is as radiant as the sun.

Sun In The Fifth House: The God Of Destruction Shiva

Song: Empress Of - Need Myself 

These Natives are quite the storm of Passion and at times this can be the very damning thing in their life. These natives live by the code of fire and tend to burn and burn never realizing their flames are eating up those they care-fore just as much as their foes. They tend to be Patronizing, Domineering, Physical, animated, Passionate and driven Though at times they loose sight of those who marched with them once the goal is reached. They Adore gratification but also don’t believe others deserve it out of their idea of what it looks like to dig fingers in the dirt for something. They believe in fighting for the just things but in saying this they themselves resent people who need to feel honored for doing such a thing. See these natives despise yet love praise, to them praise feels like honey and milk but has the after taste of cleaning solution and dirt. They want to feel needed but despite co-dependence. they want to feel it all but get lost in the feeling. for them their world is one big cyclone of events they just happen to take part in but they also don’t enjoy the drama that comes along with it though it secretly fuels them. to them life is to be tamed and those who are tamed by it are simply unlucky. They value intimacy above all else because in their eyes real intimacy cannot be faked, but they have a tendency to over identify with sex and intimacy almost using it as a bargain when in reality sex and intimacy are simply a pleasant moment between people. These natives can at times be addicted to the chaos and the negligence though they try to mask it as a pursuit of fun and liveliness. Much like Shiva these natives Believe that in order to create things must be tore the fuck up in order for them to really ever be real. The arguments, the tears, the ups and downs make it real for them and usually the lack of it can drive them mad. They prioritize their romances because that’s in a sense their focal point, their sun, their divine purpose but as you can imagine it is also their worst trait as it makes them incredibly insatiable for love but it also damages them greatly when they are alone without love in life. in Feminine energy the pursuit for love isn’t as all consuming and many focus more on their art and the beauties of children and theater many times over these natives live in the club as if it is some gorgeous ballroom whilst others paint and dance as if they where in a room with all the may gods. Masculine energies tend to be on the hunt for something, be it sex, be it themselves, be it a mighty battle to delight in they constantly pursue their own ideal of the sun no matter the activity in question. These natives tend to show all their rawness even their heart because unlike Leo suns they are not fearful of their deeper emotions which is a blessing and curse at times. They tend to battle against Wrath and Happiness. For them a constant state of turmoil is their fuel but the idea of happiness in its all scares them as they fear it will bring stagnancy and boredom along with it. they want to maintain their circulation of storms and tribulations and at times happiness intimidates them as it represents completion and often times completion is not yet what they desire. 

Sun In Virgo Vs Sun In The Sixth House:

(Death God Iku Vs King Yan God of Death, Of The Ten Kings Of Hell)

Sun In Virgo: Death God Iku

Song: Brent Faiyaz- Make Luv

Sun in Virgo natives aren’t so much as something you can readily identify, they are not necessarily a thing as much as they are a what. They feel good, but they also surround you like a presence rather than a physical being. They often times feel like something carnal and ethereal but at the same time gravitate away from this by their realistic and rather internally discontent energy. They seem like they are just moving through the world, like a child who found out Santa was nothing more than a fable.They want and need to be needed but this desire is rooted in their early understanding of relevance being tied to usefulness. To be relied on is better than sex for them as it feeds their inner desire to be needed. Though we say this one might also call this their greatest weakness as their dependency on being needed swarms their lives into situations that allow them to be used and rather than be sad about it they seek out more situations until these woes mount a rather steep hill deep in their psyche. They often suffer from their fair share of demons because of their blind ignorance to their own pain, to them the pain is merely a small price to pay for those small moments of being needed, being useful in that moment they are seen more than any hug, child, parental love or sexual liaison can provide. Much Like Iku these natives live amongst the shadows as a presence, fading in and out of situations like a black smoke. They love the idea of being around others but they secretly loathe it as deep down they feel the attention is swirling away from them. most feminines with this placement suffer immensely as they struggle to separate being needed from being used and separating love from hate.To them the occasional grips outlast the major ones but in reality the small ones are the ones that leave the deepest wounds, while the big ones just leave a gaping hole that was already their to begin with.They admire work ethic and creativity in others as its something they too seek to connect with but they often burn out constantly due to their lack of emotional focus. they often jump in and out of happy and down periods with the down periods out weighing the happy ones due to them not genuinely pursuing their own vices of their own free will. though they care for others they don’t really love themselves which is many times over why they purposely play the game of how long can i rip myself apart subconsciously as they systematically replay the same scenarios with the same ending. Sex is another dimension to Virgo suns, they much Like Gemini Suns see it as a curiosity but due to their earthy component the curiosity instantly dies as soon as their sensual mind catches up with what is really happening. They want and need mental as well as true physical compatibility which can only happen when they align themselves with their emotional self. This circus act tends to continue as the biggest struggle for this sign is My pain vs your pain dynamics. They never know when to draw the line and ultimately they get eaten up by it. The masculines suffer the greatest as they are prone to holding on to their past hurts and using it as justification for mistreatment of people that come after. in their eyes the world was cruel to them so why can’t they be the god and return the favor and this is often why they endure the worst as the universe punishes them tend fold.

Sun In the Sixth House: King Yan, Of the Ten Kings Of Hell

Song: Brent Faiyaz - Insecure 

As many of you may Know we look to the sixth house as the house of structure, day to day activities, routines and health yet for a native with their sun here the health and the health of others can be an ongoing theme in their lives.They Are constantly running on an internal schedule one that can seem to make all of the minutes in a day pure agony. They tend to be meticulous in some cases whilst in others they seem to be following some sort of silent bell that tells them the when and where. Time management, organizing and even planning are their hidden talents mainly because when it comes to other people they are like death itself, constantly waiting, passing the time almost excited at the idea of putting everything together. They can seem detached but down to earth, their hallmark is their humility and bluntness but in some lower cases they can seem condescending and emotionally daft. They say and do things according to their mental comprised list of do’s and don’ts. most people fall in reaction and action types for them and they tend to formulate their actions and reactions in response to these but much like life itself many things are unexpected including people and this is often where these natives malfunction, they assume actions before they take place and are totally unprepared for the off chance things operate outside of that box. To them there is a steady cause and effect momentum that life runs by and often very little does life operate off this agenda. For them life can be stages and every stage represents different levels of turbulence for them, at times things are well and other times they seem unstable or at times they can seem rather abysmal but thats much like life no? things can shift in and out of focus. well you see for these natives that shift of focus can be earth shattering as they tend to revolve their life around specific situations at times which can be highly discombobulating for them when they hadn’t the time to prepare counter alternatives. These natives are quick mentally and typically love the idea of nature and it’s animals, many loving to surround themselves with lively animated pets. they tend to care for their pets and plants more than they do people at times as they naturally see nature and animals as their happy place and area of grounding. Work is also important to these natives so they can often be very proud and intense when it come to the job hunt as their job is often what they want to be known for, how good they do is always important to them. In the masculine energy this can make the men rather messy/earthy looking as they pick up their features from nature in a quite literal way. for the feminine energy types the mercurial influence gives that gender less tone once more whilst also adding a soothing and innocent beauty. these natives are often dealing with the theme of Time Vs Place. For them Time is always an issue, when is it the right time? they never know how much time to alot to moments in their which ends up creating states of drain in them, but the place has much to do with this as well as these natives fail to realize that the places they trap themselves in is a cause of their lack of time, very rarely do they set themselves in situations that give them enough time to exercise free time yet they find themselves wondering where all the time has gone when it was never there to being with.

Sun in Libra Vs Sun In The Seventh House:

(Loki The Trickster Vs Dolos/Dolus The Spirit Of Trickery)

Sun In Libra: Loki The Trickster

Song: King Princess - Back Of a Cab

As an outsider looking in it may seem like Libra suns are impartial, Sweet and charming in a way that is both fleeting yet inviting, but among their well meaning disposition lay a certain anticipation of the camera cutting into the more grotesque scene. These natives Live almost as though they were a celebrity, their minds and energy go into the upholding of the idea they present. be it that they are a punk rock don’t need a man type, or maybe they are seen as a high ranking and family oriented politician, or mayhaps they are seen as the athlete or the singer with the smile of a cool summer evening. They wont ever showcase what lay underneath due to the real self being far more ominous then people are ready for. Libra suns are in reality stoic, serious, and unenthusiastic, this may sound bad but its in reality meaning that they aren’t as wrapped up in your shit as you may think. Libra suns present themselves as more caring and more involved then they really are as in all truth being cardinal their real focus at the end of the day is their own independent well being and whether or not anything is serving the purpose it needs within their lives. They are incredibly independent and dare i say even more than Aries suns. Libra suns really go through all the effort of seeming dependent and unknowing because it allows for people to see them as less of a threat, this in term gets them leighweigh in cultivating beneficial situations for themselves without a hassle. That being said they can get into trouble when the mask fades as people begin to realize their true nature. Libra suns are caring and gentle to those around them and this part is honest as they do have an appreciation for the sensual and often the beautiful aspects of relating to others. Though that being said they have a limit of to how much interaction with others they can stand for, to much of seeing someone can bore them and depending on the nature of the continued interaction they’ll often begin to wear their mask more fiercely as they are now beginning to fight their real self from telling you to leave them be. Libra suns are well meaning but at times they do find themselves caught between the mirror of deception, this shows itself as them getting caught up on past performances they’ve up-kept coming to bite them in the ass. They rationalize things here and there but for the most part much of what they may feel is felt deeply as they tend to see emotions as a gift and something they hold onto. The reason being that Libra suns seldom stay in a moment to long so often when a strong emotion catches them off guard they welcome it though if it’s a negative emotion they tend to retreat from it especially if it’s a romantic emotion that is moving along faster than intended. They are uplifting and selfless most times but selfish and rather clouded by their romances when they do come around. Their greatest struggle tends to be The real me vs the Me everyone Thinks is me. These natives play so deeply into their roles that they often times fly so far away from their own inner world that they forget what or how to identify their own feelings apart from the ones they have made everyone believe they are experiencing.

Sun In The Seventh House: Dolos/Dolus The Spirit Of Trickery 

Song: King Princess - Ohio 

These natives Unlike their Libra Sun Counterparts Exhibit traits that i can only describe as seemingly disengaged yet deeply engaged at the same take. They can seem as if they are wandering, mentally shifted in another place yet almost like a trance they heard every word, saw every movement they were analyzing you yet how could you tell? These natives are observant and often times the silence is their way of capturing the moment. They prefer talkative types as they reveal more and make that part of the interaction easier for them, but people who are overly mysterious or quiet tend to offset them as it gives them very little to work with and puts the balancing act on their back. They try to make others feel understood mainly because they themselves resonate so deeply with the process of finding oneself and understanding ones own true inner workings.These natives seem tricky and deceptive but rather its more or less the spirit they give off. They seem deceptive because they don’t reveal much, yet unknown to others they just don’t identify as heavily as most with the things in their life well enough to reveal much. The seem like tricksters because they know the right time to speak and the right time to act which can at times seem like they’re planning or scheming when in reality they are simply good readers of body language and social ques. they often times trail along a sadness that they can’t seem to attach a reason to but this sadness is often the shadow. unlike Libra suns these natives can’t pretend to be something mainly because they don’t really know who they are apart  from their immediate interactions with others. they have an idea but at times they feel like a shadow of something. The shadow self often tries to convince them to play roles, play into things that could possibly be them yet in actuality they know deep down that would only further the disassociation with themselves. love is a big thing for these natives but it always seems fleeting, as if all their good graces are wasted on individuals who never deserved their love. in an ironic twist though it is actually wonderful that these people come into their lives as they aid their journey to self discovery. These natives are genuine and kind hearted despite their rather quiet and too themselves nature. Their greatest battle is between The Loud Heart and The Quiet Heart. Often times these natives play into the feelings they can see but never into the ones they feel but cannot see, to them the emotions need to have a logic behind them and if not they shrug it off as a irrational emotion. They often times are terrified by their own depth mainly because it belongs to a side of themselves they are not yet familiar and this is the shadow.

Sun In Scorpio Vs Sun In The Eighth House:

(The Mighty Marques Aamon Vs Arch Angel Michael)

Sun In scorpio: The Mighty Marques Aamon

Song: Tove Lo - Are u Gonna Tell Her?

ah The mighty Scorpio sun, Riddled in the darker parts of human nature where they themselves seem to find a sense of curiosity and compulsion. These natives tend to be easy to spot, rather not for just their physical attributes but for their ominous and rather soul inquiring gaze. They see right through you and have already dressed every aspect of you soul a million times over as if it were a pull over scarf. They more often then not have an early look into the nastier side of man due to the influence of Pluto and Mars throwing down their intense calamity. See Pluto and Mars are not necessarily on equal grounding and often times Pluto ruffles Mars in just the right way for mars to gear up in aggression which then cause Pluto to polarize and become calculated and manipulative in order to gain the upper hand. due to this these natives tend to express the inner conflict outwardly as a hot and cold/off and on demeanor and approach to all things be it love, family, and even career’s. Scorpio Suns do not want to draw attention to their actions or their inner workings so much of their ego goes into sharing just enough to get what they need from others whilst revealing almost nothing of themselves. In lesser versions of Scorpio suns this can be problematic behavior as they soon become controlling, Gas light heavy and emotionally abusive to those close to them as a means of furthering their need to be in control. Make no mistake though Scorpio suns are typically battling their own demons the main difference being what part of their journey of healing they are on. Scorpio in feminine types tends to be the most afflicted as the overly competitive masculine ruling signs clashes with the more submissive or passive feminine energy. This clash is apart of what makes these natives so alluring and sensual, you can almost feel the war steaming over their skin, the pain in their eyes, the intensity, you feel all of it as if you where there with them. They tend to be very loving and loyal souls but can struggle with opening their hearts to real love, the kind that heals and extends it’s hand. Scorpio Suns have a bad knack for going after their mirror, and this in turn is apart of their journey but also a habit that must be broken. The reason is linked to the fact that Scorpios Suns are drawn naturally to people that force them to Acknowledge their trauma, darkness and inner instability which sends them on emotional benders that can last years if they are not careful. Often times the Scorpio Sun natives are in a constant flux where they must deal with Ex’s, Family dramas and at a deeper level mental brakes but this is all apart of their grand story despite how heavy the lows are. Scorpio suns as a whole struggle with the concept of Destruction and Rebirth. For them everything in their life has a life expectancy and once the time comes all things fall to ruin, only Scorpio suns obsess with the idea of rebirth leading to a form of longevity a way to ensure things never cease nor ware down..But in reality this continuously vicious cycle of Devastation and second life are draining for their spirits and their soul. It’s ok to let go and it’s okay for things to be at peace, just because there is no war at hand it is no cause for worry of an impending ending and often times these natives in their fear of this manifest their own endings. Much like the Mighty Demon Aamon these natives are compassionate and understanding but also careless, wild and wouldn’t hesitate to impose their will no matter the consequence to others. They have a hard time with the white Pickett fence lifestyle and often times find themselves craving the unknown, the unstable, the misfortune..they are drawn to it like mosquitoes to blood.

Sun in The Eighth House: Arch Angel Michael

Song: Tove lo- Passion& Pain Taste The same(Extended Version)

Sun in the Eighth house Natives are Emotionally adept, but noticeably scary in the sense that they always seem as if they are sizing you up, writing in pieces and parts of you personality so they themselves can further dig into you psyche  in a way that prevents you from pulling the wool over their eyes. unlike Scorpio Suns these natives aren’t a walking ball of tension rather they exude a mysterious and rather deceptive energy as if they are a black mist eroding away at the walls silently beyond your sight. They are just as Black and White as Scorpio suns but more dangerous due to the fact that they see the grey area clearly and choose when they’d like to include it in their perceptive analysis. They can have a military like energy to them, seeming authoritative and closed, while also having a rather shady nature to them even if they are not personally out to get anything at all. Often times people around them perceive them in a rather untrustworthy light even if they are the most honest person in the world, the reason being the eighth house squaring the energy of the Sun, it creates a Leo meets Scorpio Dynamic that creates friction in the outside world but not the bedroom. Sex is where these natives feel they can truly glow and shine, where they can truly unwind and express their true nature. Often times sexual addiction or sexual obsession can become apparent if the natives listen to their lower vibrations. They often times see people in a way of value and have a hard time letting go of them due to the bountiful potential they see in them. to these natives everyone on this earth has meaning no matter how small and that makes them irreplaceable. They often struggle with the idea of growing up Vs staying young. They often hold on to their youth, and even sometimes surround themselves by a younger audience as a means of ignoring father time who often forces them to confront the harsh realities of life. They often times battle with their mature side as it represents confronting their rigid more disillusioned side. they want to be optimistic but deep down they recognize the serious rather proud nature within themselves though they may try to shrug it off. They want their darkness to be excepted but simultaneously detest it as if it where a violent storm or pack of hounds set loose. despite this they have a rather intense nature but one that is more calm and mischievous then its Scorpio sun counterpart. Much like Michael these natives are dutiful but ruthless, if it gets them what they need they’ll execute it without issue no matter who is effected. They tend to follow orders and expect the same from others. they have an empress/emperor like energy which can at times seem intimidating and cold.

Sun In Sagittarius Vs Sun In The ninth House:

(Norse God Odin Vs Pantheon God Of Olympus Zeus)

Sun In Sagittarius: Norse God Odin

Song: Cinnamon Chasers - Speeder 

These Natives do live up to their expansive Ruling planet, They at times are so high up in the sky that they forget there is a whole world around them. They are often distracted, Blunt, Mean, Cut throat, Philosophical and open minded whilst also somehow managing to be vibrant, Sincere and very hard lovers for those they hold dear. They can have trouble holding back their opinions and their ideas and once that mouth of their’s gets going it tends to be a real sucker punch. They adore adventure but tend to find adventure in their day to day life just as exciting. The traveling generalization is often true but for Sagittarius suns it’s not so much foreign cultures as it is experiencing something outside of their immediate normality. they can’t stand someone who doesn’t have any idea what they’re talking about and will dig your grave for you via words if you waste their time, every second is precious to a Sagittarius sun no matter how minor you may think it is. They are often very straightforward in their approach to all things which can be a good or bad thing depending on how strong willed you are to deal with such a strong force. They tend to live in their minds but unlike Gemini these thoughts and desires find their way into the real world which often time can lead them into some sketchy or bad situations due to how little thought or consideration went into the details of the thought itself. They are insanely willful folks and will fight anyone who intends on placing them into a set standard of expectations and rules. They are often creative and fair very well with bringing in their own unique spin to the things they create. certain emotions some of us spend years or days mulling over these natives typically pass through relatively swiftly. Nothing really is that serious to these natives, after-all in their eyes all that could be done has been done. They tend to have a rocky relationship with their emotional hemisphere and thats often where the underdeveloped lot of this sun sign seek out their flighty and or venomous tongue to defend themselves. they often are quite sensitive and loving but struggle to apply this as its a foreign concept to them. Their flightiness is also deeply rooted in their need to chase, to constantly be on the hunt for their divine pleasure. The masculine and feminine both fall prey to this. Similarly to Odin these natives are creative, expansive in their mentality, leaders, explorers and deeply intellectual beings bent on understanding the world and all within it too it’s fullest extent. Their greatest struggle tends to be between the Should i stay vs should i go dynamic. They are always leaving the people and things they have no business leaving behind yet sticking around for the nonsense that truly serves them no other purpose but sex, false validation or presenting a sort of illusion. 

Sun In The Ninth House: Pantheon God Of Olympus Zeus

Song: Cinnamon Chasers -Luv Deluxe 

For these natives the differences can be a little harder to tell, though if anything they stand out even more so than it would for a Sagittarius sun. These natives have a inspirational mind, Dexterous, and very good at micro-managing their own energies. They do suffer from a horrid resting bitch face and cannot hold their tongue when it comes to most things as they prefer to say exactly whats on their mind but this happens more unknowingly for them than it does for their sun sign counterpart. these natives share Zeus’s promiscuous nature, finding it relatively easy to move on from person to person due to the way they look at relationships being stepping stones that further them along to their perfect match. Not very often do these natives find themselves in one position for two long as they suffer from restlessness more than any fire sign or other fire house combined. to them The day is meant to be explored and often times these adventures are completely random as their desire to expand can come suddenly like a blast of cold air. They tend to also enjoy their fair share of tattoos, body augmentations, and hair dyes. Anything that allows them to heighten their experience which in many cases also includes drugs, as the natives love being able to awaken the parts of themselves unattainable during the day. They are partiers but also at times very studious. many are very dedicated to the idea of college while others drop out due to feeling they can find other ways to expand and create on their own. This native is often dualistic in the sense that they can pursue one path for some time and then completely fly off the rail and start a new path abruptly and this personality trait is something that continues as time goes on. They are very giving souls nonetheless and willingly sacrifice and support those they care about with ease be it paying for their food, letting them stay at their house or borrow their clothes. The thing is these natives are good at assessing the boundary and can very easily tell you to leave or that they want to be alone, because although they are kind they also still know their own personal needs matter just as much at the end of the day. They often inquire much about the emotional side of things because they often don’t understand the emotions of others nor what motivates their actions which is their greatest source of frustration. Their main struggle much like Zeus is Abundance Vs Accumulation. They often crowd on things for the sake of having it, but fail to find the the value or usefulness in the very things they are allowing into their life. They must learn to value the things around them otherwise it just ends up being a bunch of furniture with plastic wrap, unused and wasted. They are just as tenacious, gallant, charismatic and strong as Zeus but in hindsight they are just as rude, Oblivious and insatiable as him in their worst.

Sun In Capricorn Vs Sun In The Tenth House:

(Hades Vs Buddha)

Sun In Capricorn: Hades

song: Delilah- Touch me 

If i could describe these natives in a sense i would say they are gifted with a great curse and a Mighty Blessing, and that would be their ability of seeing exactly the deeper nature of an individual without any actual spoken word. They are people readers plain and simple and a great many of them gorge themselves on their hobby of people watching. To them humanity is a big social project and one they are endlessly applying their vast many of skills in decoding. They have an inner earthiness to them that can energetically make them seem slower in their reactions but overly abundant in spirit when it comes to the more physical aspects of life. They have a very emotional relationship with success and money so often times they tend to neglect the other meats of life in favor of money which at times can leave them lonely in the midst of their success. They can have an intimidating aura, one that reaks of sadness and woe in the masculines or one that reaks of intensity and confidence in the feminines. The sun in Capricorn natives have a naturally polarizing emotional state, at times seeming calm, happy or at least passably content to more stoic, lost and emotionally unavailable the moment Saturn’s gloom sinks his teeth into them. they often times find themselves trapped in a current of weight, often times softer things like relaxation, vacations, and even moments of idle are very rarely enjoyed by these natives as often very deep within they feel intense guilt at the experience of any pleasure for too long. to these natives there is a constant nagging voice telling them to “move” and push ahead, the moment they stop the voice becomes a vicious void that can often times give these natives their well known devilish energy. These natives practice restraint subconsciously and often times limit themselves as a means of a deeper rooted paranoia that if they are truly at their best, truly free, everything will come undone. These natives have a life based upon hidden fears that have no real face but often times are tied to Saturn who nurtures the idea in them that things could go wrong at the drop of the hat and that letting ones guard down even for a moment can lead to a very painful lesson. They tend to be loving, and deeply sensitive souls but very hardly ever do they show this face. Masking and false advertising is their forte, pretending to be malicious, cool, aloof, and empty if often easier then showing their bubbly, talkative, and rather softly romantic and tender nature. Love can be a source of pain for them due to the fact that much like all who have Saturn in a prominent place, a lesson is always to be had. these natives tend to learn that love is something that is seldom on par with the level of dedication and patience they exhibit towards their own life, often times fueling their cynical view towards love as a whole. They love intently and with all of their soul, never leaving the side of their lovers but at the same time this love and loyalty comes after years upon years of work and foundation as these natives loathe intimacy or love that seems to flighty or ungrounded in it’s intent. they tend to be spiritual but this is something they grow more intune with the older they get. They tend to be caught in the struggle of maybe it'll be different this time vs already knowing the outcome. The harsh part for these natives is that they deep inside want to give people the benefit of the doubt, they want to be whimsical and naive but it is something to riddled with consequence which they already know and often times they are trapped in a tug of war of was i right to give up on this, to shut down, to close off, was i to harsh, was i to fast to do it? but often times the moment they ignore their intuition the pain is often a violent reminder that they should’ve listened to their gut. these natives much like hades understand the depth of their commitments and find dedicating themselves to things a rigor to be expected but one that is earned not just jumped into head first without proper caution. They live in the dark, ominous and heavy seated parts of life but because of them everything is in order, everything is collected and well placed as it should be. 

Sun In The Tenth House: Buddha 

Song: Delilah - Love you so

Sun In the Tenth housers are drastically different from their fourth house sun counterparts in the respect that where one is Pious, emotionally erratic and arrogant the other is cold, emotionally distanced and humble. These natives prefer quiet as opposed to a loud obnoxious display of the self. To them your work and actions should speak more for your character than some inflated actions or stories. They love intense encounters and often find themselves at the center of powerful people be it bad or good. they enjoy a certain level of unpredictability in thought rather than actually carried out in reality. if i could describe them i’d say they are the emotionally aware bad girl/boy. they enjoy the discretion of the social norm but also have a longing for more structure in their lives. for these natives people are only so interesting to them, once they figure them out the concept presented in getting to know the individual goes out the window. The only real intrigue to them is an ever changing situation, person or thing, anything with a predictable end is often a source of contempt for them. Emotionally they can run HOT like a supernova but then suddenly cool as if all the suns across multiple galaxies vanished into thin air leaving a stark, rigid cold. They tend to adore darkness in others only until this very darkness starts to lose it’s luster. a preference for being a savior for others is present but once again the back and forth nature of this placement and it’s obsession with the idea of disharmony yet simultaneously needing peace. they have a rather neutral perspective in life due to their fluctuating taste, and much like the Buddha they live by a strong law of what you give is what you get, what you do comes back to you and that for every action done, their is an effect waiting for it. Despite this these natives tend to be on the more mischievous side of things seeking a sort of imagined excitement that never ever seems to come. Romantically they are the type to fall hard but also the type to run from anything that is to emotionally saturated. they don’t care for love yet it always finds them anyways, the key with them is that they need it to be paced, anything rushed, anything impulsive or quickly proposed tends to push them deep in their hole. they love sensual affection and touch and often love to place their hands on everything and anything, to feel it in their palms, on their skin, in their hair...they eat up the environment like it were the sea making waves around them. Often times they can have a melancholic sense of humor and seem rather out of touch with their surroundings at times. They prefer loneliness as opposed to bad company and at times the bad company in their eyes is the entirety of human society. They can seem pretentious, Mean, and wildly judgmental with their sharp tongue but if you listen closely at times these natives speak truths you yourself know are true but are not ready to accept. i often call these natives fortune tellers as they speak in foreshadowing tones that allude to future happenings. They often struggle with the heart vs the head. at times they live so much in their mind that the longings of their heart feel like weird wire entanglements that they are not familiar with. They know their heart longs for things but their mind for the life of them can never really make sense of it, to them its all a bunch of gibberish but it often is why they always feel that internal and eternal missing in their lives, as if something should be there but never really is. 

Sun In Aquarius Vs Sun In The Eleventh House: 

(Goddess of Death Hela Vs Moon God Lilith)

Song: SHYGIRL - Freak

So today we speak on one of the most complex and virtually paradoxical sun signs to date, Aquarius suns. These natives are well deserving of their rather multi-layered face, often times seeming like a box with never ending compartments and staircases leading to new basements and by theory new worlds and realities. Often times their level of competency can fly between intellectually dualistic to emotionally dualistic. They can seem like they understand you and at times the depth of this understanding would surprise you despite their seemingly detached nature. Despite this more soft side of their ego make no mistake their god complex is sitting eerily close to the surface. Unlike Gemini suns, there is no second face in the water bearer rather their is only this continuous current that fluctuates between a heavy stream of a light stream and which stream you get depends solely on the level of intellectual enticement the Aquarius sun native can glimpse within you. There is an apparent darkness in these natives but it’s mainly due to their co-rulership of saturn dancing with the erratic demon uranus. These two planets complete each other but they also tug at one another strings in a rather violent and stormy like way, causing a strange ground up and sky to floor motion in these natives moods. One moment they can be rebellious, restless, goofy and rather unbothered and the next moment they can seem stoic, impersonal, detached and down right moody. they love proving others wrong but they also take a great pride in watching a stance someone has held so tightly in pride come crashing down once the sun in Aquarius native corrects them. they take great pride in their mental dexterity but at times can be overwhelmed by the constant and never ending current of thought. They have a tendency to come across as hardheaded and hellbent on their way being the right way as they often despite their airy nature are still intensely fixed. that being said they are deeply curious of society and the world around them, often taking time to learn and study the varying cultures and systems in the immediate environment as well as the environment as others. very many tend to find themselves drawn to humanitarian pursuits albeit a bit shy at first in many cases due to the fact that they themselves don’t always understand their pull to the collective. These natives tend to be loners contrary to belief and find it very difficult at times to cope with their occasional existential crisis as they often find that they don’t really relate or connect to the world or time frame they happen to be apart of. They at times like the idea of being misunderstood while other times they wish atleast one person could peer into their mind and document their beautiful and uniquely grafted mental space but that would be far to available for their liking. Making friends is something that seems like a powerful need for these natives and often times something they struggle with as they often find that they confuse friendship and romance. often projecting more romantic/relationship tendencies on their friendships and projecting more friendship/acquaintance tendencies on their romantic relationships. They do enjoy the idea of being in love or being emotionally connected to others but in a lot of ways they don’t really understand it as much as they’d want to. they tend to in a similar fashion as Hela deem themselves as higher beings who happen to be misunderstood. they view themselves as starving intellects who the world neglects in favor of stupidity and mental stagnancy, a stagnancy that the Aquarius suns believe they can rescue the world from if they listened to them.. Their greatest battle lay in the concept of wisdom vs Virtue. They see these things as separate ideologies, often presented as fallacies rather than something applicable, to them wisdom is unreliable due to the fact that simply knowing something or how it may pan out does not necessarily omit outside factors that alter this variable, and virtue in itself seems like something self assured, but in their eyes something self assured is also prone to change due to the unstable base it is presented upon. so they tend to struggle with letting themselves go to the unknown presented in spirituality, which is often the missing piece to their puzzle. Many of these natives tend to be bisexual, that being said any sign can be bisexual or gay, or so on, the case is that with Aquarius suns, they have such a deeply set ambiguous eternal self that can at times find that it relates more to the energy of others than it does the physical body, especially since for these natives sex and love are not hand in hand as much as mind and body are. 

Sun In The Eleventh House: The Moon God Lilith 

Song: SHYGIRL - Rude

These natives are very unique in the sense that dare i say this is the darkest position for the sun to be in. It creates a tug a war, between the sun and itself as nothing more than a cold white glow. They are charismatic and open, but closed and mysterious. on a hand they can seem welcoming and so entrancing in their approaches, seeming as if they adore the crowd but if you really see them they are intense, perplexed, to themselves and endlessly distrustful. A good word for them is willful and Loudly willful at that. They will not and cannot be moved without their own desire and often times the source of what moves them is unknown to them as well. a complicated requiem of pain swirls within them but the source often alludes them as it stems for a combination of things that have moved around like chess pieces in a chess game with no players in seat. They experience pain but they never claim it rather its seated somewhere and moved around again and again until it origin is blurry to the natives. Pompous at times with their beliefs they are well being, they have an obsessive nature with friendships often deeming them to hold seniority above most things, at times seeing them as extensions of their own ego. the less they understand amongst  their friends the weaker they feel. loving them can be complicated as they are always evolving, changing and dying off ridding pieces of themselves as if they were spring cleaning their souls. They do deal with their darker sides mainly because unlike most of us these natives skeletons never really do go in the closet rather they stand loud and proud in the face of the native so they can face them. They tend to be sensitive but also adaptable so the sensitivity can seem elusive as they tend to firmly glue shut the smallest weakness in themselves the moment it is introduced. They value the feelings of others more then even their own at times but there is often a nice balance between their care for others and the care they have for themselves. They can seem unnerving and captivating as their energy tends to feel like a sultry, in control and rather sophisticated energy though they may not recognize it within themselves. They often times fly in and out of asexuality and this deals more with their emotional state if anything. they at times don’t connect to other people in the way we all do, they see the physical beyond it’s self which can at times cause complete disconnect during moments of intimacy or sex. They often battle the idea of am i complete vs am i incomplete. they never truly know if they have all the pieces aligned and much like Lilith they often times feel an innate need to find the truth, to rebel and quarrel until it all makes sense. they can seem nomadic and ruthless because of this due to the fact that they are willing to do whatever it takes to fuel their desire for self discovery. gender roles and social constraints bore them often times and this makes them feel tense and confined when they are in an overly oppressive or traditional environment 

Sun In Pisces Vs Sun In The Twelfth House: 

( The God Of Creation Brahma Vs Jesus Christ, Son Of God)

Sun In Pisces: The God Of Creation Brahma

Song :Sevdaliza - Dormant

Much Like A dark sea, with waves reaching the clouds and dancing with visible silent but reverberating shocks of light in the sky these natives present a wildly pretty, yet ominous duplicity within their soft and gooey disposition. They can seem rather intangible, yet despite their hard to grasp wetness they can see you, read you and be inside of you like water and dissipate like fog before your very eyes. They are insanely sensitive but unlike the other water signs they are also every other sun sign dressed as one. They have many traits, they carry the impulsive nature of Aries, the sensual and rather harmonious nature of Taurus, the duality and wit of Gemini, The soft and protective nurturing of Cancer, the Amorousness and rather playfully romantic nature of Leo, the Calculated, yet realistic side of Virgo though they fight it.., the Co-dependent yet charming nature of Libra, The emotional intensity and depth of Scorpio, The gun-ho, and rather Flighty nature of Sagittarius, the steady and rigid side of Capricorn, and the Eccentric and rather erratic momentum of Aquarius. thats what makes them so terrifying, they are all things but also nothing at all in theory, a Pisces sun is a reflection of you, their environment, they in theory have no one set manner of being. These natives have a way of seeming completely present, so totally engulfed in you but once reality catches up with them they can seemingly turn into smoke, vanishing into thin air as if they never truly felt anything to begin with. What happened? well Pisces suns are very dualistic in nature, one fish dives in recklessly and the other fish brings them both back to reality and slows things down. Pisces do not readily settle down nor do they readily make any commitments to others be it friends, lovers and even family. everything means more to a Pisces native so they often times need plenty of time to think of the many options, possibilities and outcomes even if they don’t have a clear idea of what they may look like. they tend to be heavily compassionate but can struggle with creating boundaries between their woes and the woes of others. at times they see pain as a shared experience rather than a mission to be experienced solely with the self. in masculines this energy is HARD to handle. it can cause them to get drowned in the Neptune pool, often times making them liars, unstable or emotionally unavailable. in the feminine energy they tend to handle it well though in both energy types the flighty rather slippery side of them is always present, they can seem like they are dodging you or running away but in reality they just shift in and out of feelings like changing currents. they are deeply spiritual and many tie themselves to the unknown as if they were birthed from it. They believe in a higher space, that all things flow in the direction they must with or without intervention. They fear evil in others and often try to save and rescue those who’ve lost their way but many learn overtime that saving is at times not different from enabling. Their biggest fight is flight vs confrontation. These natives much like the god Brahma Are capable of creating and putting together projects and parts of the world in ways that would make all the gods jealous. they have a hand for beauty and making things however they must in a beautifully designed manner...that being said they often shy away from people and things that are good for them due to their fear of themselves and others. deep down they fear the idea of being seen completely as it means all of those 12 faces must fade and the fish must truly present all the parts of itself and thats often when they try to swim away. They fear the concept of being totally seen, totally embraced in the same manner that they do others because then they would have to acknowledge their weakness, Love, receiving honest love scares them as to them the camera is finally on them.

Sun In The twelfth House: Jesus Christ, Son Of God

Song: Sevdaliza - wallflower

We now come to the last of the houses. These Natives have an abundance of mist that shrouds them, much like a cloak or a long blast of light from the heavens surrounding them in its glow. They don’t normally stand out, many times having a rather passive and calm demeanor, seeming polite but not overly open nor connected. Though upon further inspection one can clearly make out their rather attentive eye for human emotion and human desire. they can seemingly pin point the sorrow in others, the dreams, the level of comfort one seeks and once they have scoped it out they often adapt to the particular need in question. See for them it’s more about creating an air of easy peace and the best way to do that is complete neutrality via adaptability. They often times remove all the traits associated with their sun sign and wear a veil, dare is say they become a spitting image of Jesus christ, suddenly they are able to collectively calm the crowd with little to no effort besides a few well placed personality augmentations to fit everyone's individual levels of comfort. They radiate a sadness, a deep sadness that is often glossed over with a false happiness, a ominously passive good natured state of passivity as to not allude to the rather turbulent well of waves and storms going on behind the scenes. Sleeping and a constant state of tiredness often plagues these natives, their energy often always seems half full even if they got a days full of sleep. They never truly feel at 100% which can at times give off a irritable or tired vibe to them. They tend to handle stress well but at the same time they usually can only do one emotion at a time, meaning that much of their inner feelings get compartmentalized into manageable spaces as to not cause them any issue. they like love, but they don’t have boundaries necessary to differentiate being used from being loved. at times they can purposely seek out bad things for them in order to feel needed but in reality they are ensuring that they never really feel happy because deep down they feel it is their fate to take on someone else baggage. They tend to be terrified of good people, stable people, as they represent a missing aspect within themselves. they often push away the good ones in favor of the bad ones because ultimately choosing to be with someone who actually cares about them means they would have to learn to care about themselves which is often something they are not ready to do. Self love is the fear for these natives as it involves uncluttering their inner psyche which is already damaged beyond what they think they can even repair. The struggle here is often do i love me Vs should i even love me? they often times view self love as selfish and deem it as an unnecessary virtue but at the same time they view it as a needed acceptance. hating themselves and self punishment is an easy go to for them because it removes accountability but in the end it always comes back and leaves a wave of carnage in it’s wake. much like Jesus these natives are sacrificing, enduring and deeply of strong faith in humanity but.. humanity always makes endless wounds, and scars in these natives..as they often get to see the worst sides of human nature as they grow mistaking their numbness for compassion. In reality they are kind and loving but this is often a defense mechanism rather than a state of just being. 

Hope you guys enjoy! 

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hot wheels | natasha romanoff x reader

explicit, 5,2k words, f/f. meet-ugly but still very much wholesome. we love a girlboss. natasha catches some random woman keying her brand new car but decides to be the better person for once and hear the woman out. turns out, being the better person can even get one laid! warnings: singular use of the d-slur, references to an abusive ex, lesbian sex.

[no y/n, no "you", nickname only, no reader description - race/age/body type neutral, she/her pronouns]

Natasha gave the tall, lanky boy an unimpressed look as she side-stepped the arguing couple to avoid colliding with the annoyed, teary-eyed woman the boy was groveling to. It was nearing rush hour and there was shopping to be done before the heavy NYC traffic could steer her already busy schedule down into an unmanageable chaos.

"But, Foxy, you know I didn't mean it! I love you, more than anything!"

The items on the spy's list were checked off methodically, item after item landing in the cart with a quiet thud as the redhead maneuvered through the isles with tactical precision. The usual afternoon crowd began to fill the store, taking up the so-needed breathing space; Natasha's shopping trip wasn't a moment of leisure and with her neverending to-do list full, she hurried to the self-check-out register, flying through the motions mindlessly.

Scan, place, beep, boop, pay, load up the bags, make way to the car, load up and pedal to the metal.

Scratch that. No, scratch - Natasha's eyes bulged as she neared her shiny, brand new Charger, seeing the obvious defects even from a mile away: the paint, previously cherry red and gleaming in the sun, ruined by a series of thin, gray lines, standing out unpleasantly on the otherwise pristine vehicle.

And the culprit, who's tuft of hair peeked over the hood of the car on the other side of the Charger, almost fully hidden between her car and the large Chevrolet in the next parking spot over.

Natasha's fingers clenched around the handle of the cart as she fought the urge to reach for her knife safely holstered under her leather jacket. "Excuse me?" Tone quiet and deadly, the spy prepared herself to fight or at least slightly shake up the hooligan.

The figure froze, vaguely familiar clothing and a puffy, tear-stained face slowly rising from behind Natasha's car. "In my defense, he deserves it," the girl - Foxy - the one that was arguing in front of the store earlier, declared through a stream of angry tears. "Call the cops if you want, I don't care." It was unclear if the girl recognised her, the Black Widow, as she made no move to run for the hills, just pathetically sniffled, pocketing the keys she used to scratch Natasha's car.

"That's my car," The spy responded flatly, a great deal of amusement crawling into her face as Foxy's eyes bulged, jaw fell slack, horror plain and evident overshadowing the waterworks. Natasha quickly pieced two and two together but patiently waited for the initial shock to subside before popping a question. "A word of advice, if I may?"

Foxy nodded, dumbfounded, frantically scrambling for the contents of her pockets, searching for something with the agility of a panicking cat, more than half of the contents spilling out onto the ground.

Natasha unlocked the car, popping the trunk and loading in her bags as she raised her voice to be heard over the noise of a busy parking lot. "Don't mess with the paint, the insurance will cover it. Slash three tires - not four - or take a swing at the front bumper and the headlights," the trunk slid shut with a quiet click as the spy inspected the damages close-up. Her Charger looked like it was attacked by a pack of aggressive, feral cats with nails of steel. "And always check the number plates before committing acts of vandalism to make sure you're enacting revenge on the right person." The last part was said with a smirk.

As the spy stepped closer to Foxy, she noted the excessive puffiness of her cheeks and the shaking fingers that held a checkbook and a pen. The woman looked torn between terrified and apologetic, worrying her lip between her teeth. "I'm so, so sorry. Todd just got his new car, it's identical to yours and I didn't get the chance to memorize the number plate yet," the offending man's name was said with a pitiful growl. "How much?" She weakly motioned to the ruined bodywork.

"What'd he do?" Natasha didn't resist her curiousity, leaning against the driver's side door and sizing up the other woman. She was pretty, well-dressed and reasonably wealthy on the first sight. "Yeah, he looked like a Todd," The quip slipped from the redhead's lips as she remembered the man from earlier. Foxy looked way too good to be wasting her time on someone who looked like an adolescent that hadn't outgrown his skater boy phase.

Foxy chuckled shyly at Natasha's remark, smoothing a hand over her face. "Lord, where do I even begin..." The sigh was loud and long. "He lived in my apartment rent-free, made me give up my cat by lying about his allergies, went through nine low-wage jobs in two years, did nothing but play video games in his free time and developed a pot addiction, thus spending all his money on it," she began steadily but her tone grew in pitch with every added offence as Natasha's eyebrows climbed higher and higher. "My last straw was when he took out a loan he couldn't pay off to buy his brand new cool car," the words were spat out with venom. "I threw him out last Saturday. He's been following me around all the time," Foxy continued, growing dark in the face. "And then I found out he had been cheating on me for I don't know how long. I just... I just lost it," she finished pathetically, all but crumbling into a pile of human misery.

Natasha's face had frozen into mute disbelief somewhere around the first half of the story, repulsion and astonishment mixing into a flurry of quiet rage on the random woman's behalf. Menfolk were bizarre animals, and as much as the spy felt herself annoyed by her roommates at the tower, she couldn't help but feel relieved that the men surrounding her were far from douchebags of the casual variety. This Todd, however, was no amateur, and had done Foxy really, really dirty.

The redhead made up her mind rather quickly. "That's a lot to unpack," she carefully studied the micro-expressions on the other woman's face. "I have a couple of nice bottles of wine at my place and nobody to share them with. Care for a glass?"

Foxy's eyes widened once more. "I don't- I don't want to take up your time, I mean, I'm sure you've got more important shit to do, like save the world and y'know..." The stammering was followed by a shy look to the side.

So, Foxy had recognised her. And she didn't go running the other way like most people that encountered her in disadvantageous situations did. "I actually don't, I was just getting my shopping done for a lack of better things to do," Natasha lied seamlessly, motioning to the other side of the car. "Hop in." Mission reports and Barton's pizza date could wait.

The woman made quick way around, buckling into the seat in seconds, right before Natasha peeled off from the parking lot towards the Avengers tower at breathtaking speeds. The car was a gift from Tony - one of the rare things he managed to get right - and an absolute pleasure to drive.

"What's your name?" The redhead asked, juggling the steering and her smartphone effortlessly.

The woman rattled of her first and last name on between attempts to fix her runny make-up and wipe the dried snot and tears off her face. "Foxy is a nickname my gramps gave me, said I used to excessively play with fox pelts in the attic when I was a kid," the woman added with a snort, totally oblivious to Natasha's eyebrow raise as the spy read the information on her in-between overtaking slower cars.

Good student, good family life, stable income and good career growth in a prospective sector. What did Foxy even find in a guy like Todd? The most important information, however, was also most pleasing. No ties to any kind of intelligence gathering organizations.

As Natasha parked and popped the trunk once more, the other woman offered a hand with her shopping bags. Friday acknowledged the newcomer, startling her, causing Natasha to roll her eyes and mention, loudly, that if Tony decided to pay them a surprise visit, he may end up castrated or shot on sight, much to Foxy's bashful snickering.

Once the shopping was put away and the wine opened, the spy let herself curl up on the couch opposite the woman who studied her Spartan style apartment with curios eyes. The lack of knick knacks must've been a surprise for her: Natasha's apartment looked bare compared to what she'd seen in other's people's homes but the desire to make the environment more cozy had never been strong enough to actually act upon it. She wasn't used to staying in a place for very long.

"Do you still want to get back at the bastard?" The redhead asked once the first bottle was coming to an end. The alcohol was sitting low, pleasantly warm in their bellies and the food that they'd ordered in the middle of a casual chit-chat lulled them into a state of comfortable stupor.

"I want to gouge his eyes out and wear them as a battle trophy," Foxy was slightly slurring her words, much more affected by the wine than the stoic, experienced agent. "But I guess I can settle for petty crime or arson."

"I'm sensing you didn't tell me the whole list of grievances," true to her words, the spy felt as it there was a possibility quite a few things were being left unsaid.

Foxy sighed once again, placing the empty glass on the table and using her palm to prop her flushed face against it, blankly staring off into the far end of the room. "I came out as bisexual last year and he was giving me so much shit for it. Todd kept pushing for a threesome and when I refused, started accusing me of cheating during our fights, called me a whore a couple of times," the more she spoke, the higher Natasha's anger levels rose.

Not only was a Todd a dick, he was an abusive one. Truly, the grand prize of Asshat Lottery. "I have an idea or three," the spy twirled the remaining red liquid in her glass before downing it. "But it'll have to stay between us two."

"I'm listening," Foxy turned to meet Natasha's face, eyes considerably more alert than seconds before.

A few days past their amicable wine-and-revenge get-together, Natasha's doorbell rang as if she wasn't already had been made aware by Friday that a visitor was coming up to see her. Boxes of hair bleach and dye laid stacked on the living room table, surrounded by jewelry and assorted accessories. A pitcher of fresh sangria topped the ensemble, two clean glasses placed neatly on the tray next to it.

"Hi, Nat," Foxy's smile was a mile wide - a far cry from the sniffling sad sack of a woman the spy had first met. The nickname flowed freely from the woman's lips, as calm as Natasha's own answering grin and greeting. "I gots the stuff," waving her purse about, the woman kicked off her shoes by the door, approaching Natasha with the same smile that seemed to be more effective at lightening up the room than Tony's expensive designer lamps.

As Natasha's plan achieved a solid state, the two women had quickly come to a realization that Natasha was far too recognizable with her signature red hair and over a flurry of text messages, the decision to switch to a warm caramel blonde was made unanimously. Foxy had rebuked any and all Natasha's attempts to affirm she'd be able to do it herself and the spy gave into the other's chiding, relenting to have her hair dyed by a person who at least had a possibility of seeing the back of her head without having to perform acrobatic tricks.

Foxy was an easygoing, non-problematic person. She was fun to have around, quiet but witty, with intelligent eyes and a realistic view on the world. It was something Natasha valued, alongside the lack of probing questions regarding her past or her job - her insides clenched uncomfortably at the thought of having to lie about those things, or even worse, having to admit to the wrongdoings in her past, however Foxy carefully steered away from topics that were sensitive and never gave Natasha as much as a side-eye if the spy appeared to lack some minor detail that normal women her age all seemed to be aware of.

The curiosity had her ready to burst. Nat's natural defense mechanisms were quite confused, not sure what to make of the woman who almost too friendly to be true, but the kindness in her eyes and the sometimes shy, awestruck looks she gave Natasha when she thought the redhead wasn't looking made up for it in spades.

"What do you think?" The noise of the hair dryer finally ceased, Foxy's voice echoing in Natasha's luxuriously large bathroom.

The newly-blonde spy studied her reflection with a tilt to her head. The ombre was a nice touch - her own hair was naturally darker than the caramel and honey blonde she had chosen, so the almost-brown shading at her roots took much away from the contrast between her lighter hair and darker brows. It was just another disguise for the spy, but somehow, this one felt more like home than any of the previous faces she had worn.

"I like it, you were right about the ombre," Natasha voiced her thoughts, eyes sliding over to the smiling woman behind her, feeling the corners of her mouth begin to creep upwards in involuntary response.

"You looked good with red hair, don't misunderstand me," Foxy briefly raised her hands. "But you have a light complexion and lighter colors do wonders for bringing out the youthfulness. Even if we don't have much joy these days, a good hair color is an opportunity to showcase the bit," she briefly touched her own hair in an exaggerated attempt at driving her point home.

The fun part was done, the time came to execute the revenge. It wasn't exactly anything special; rather, the plan was quite simple - let Todd make a fool out of himself in front of his friends and perhaps (a slightly, teensy possibility) get himself arrested. The two women took their time to get dolled up, not too much - but rather, adding just that little bit to themselves to easily attract moderate amounts of attention from men.

The bar was busy, noisy and full of people when the two women stepped through the door. Natasha's eyes scanned the room out of habit, easily spotting the tall, lanky Todd in the far end of the bar, laughing and boozing with equally pathetic-looking man-children. The urge to gag was almost irresistible.

The spy let herself to be led to the bar by Foxy who looked mildly uncomfortable. Natasha was sure that if she was to touch the other woman's face, it would be flaming under the circumstances. "Try to relax a little, I won't bite," with a quip to her companion, Nat ordered them a vodka cranberry each, sitting down with her back to the men. "Tell me when he notices us and starts moving this way."

Foxy nodded minutely, clutching her drink for dear life and taking generous sips to calm herself down and relax like the spy had requested. They talked about everything and nothing in between, Natasha's hand on Foxy's knee crawling closer to her hip as minutes passed by without interruption. Loud noises of men playing darts and drunkenly cheering reached the womens earshot every now and then, causing Foxy to throw increasingly infuriated glances towards her ex-boyfriend and the Black Widow's current victim of choice.

Sitting opposite the perfectly composed, smiling woman, it was clear as day she was, indeed, best of the best. Despite knowing Foxy for only a few days, Natasha managed to pull off a very convincing girlfriend: her body language was nothing short of absolutely besotted and the googly eyes the spy was making had Foxy constantly remind herself that it was only for show. There was no way this gorgeous, incredible human would be interested in someone as plain and ordinary as herself.

"Heads up," Foxy's smile suddenly grew a mile wide as she stared directly at Natasha, eyes alight with fury at the scene about to unfold. Natasha's reply was to briefly tighten the grasp on the other's leg in silent support.

"Hey, baby," Todd was drunk enough for the stench of his breath to reach both women. "Oh, I see you're with a friend," his attempt at flirting only made Natasha scrunch up her face like a cat that accidentally smelled a lemon.

"Leave me alone," Foxy stated firmly, knowing the phrase wouldn't do anything to deter her overzealous ex, but this time - she counted on it.

"It's okay, I can share," the slurred words had a couple of people nearby raise their eyebrows at the audacity.

"I'm not interested," Foxy snapped. "In fact, there is absolutely nothing your freeloading, cheating ass can bring to my table."

The woman radiated satisfaction as gasps sounded out around them; Todd was a regular at this bar and most people there knew him in one way or another. The moment of joy, however, was brief.

"Listen, bitch, you have no business talking to me like that," full of drunken bravado, the man spat angrily, taking unsteady steps closer to Foxy. "What you need is a decent man that can handle your outbursts, not some dyke..." before he could even utter another offensive syllable, Natasha had his wildly gesturing arm twisted painfully behind his back, easily forcing the inebriated man to his knees.

"Wanna try that again, champ?" Sarcasm flowed freely from the spy's lips as the patrons in the bar gasped. The civilian clothing and the new hair color might have been an effective short-term disguise but once the crowd had seen her neat little party trick and had taken a good look at her face, nobody was doubting her identity. "Call the cops, will you?" She addressed the shocked bartender who immediately scrambled to obey.

"I didn't do anything!" Todd cried out, eyes drunkenly darting between the Black Widow's quiet rage and Foxy's grim stone face.

"Huh, that's weird. Because I clearly heard and saw an attempted hate crime," Natasha's voice attained a sardonic tint. "And I have a bar full of witnesses," the spy shrugged, letting go of his arm but keeping a boot firmly planted on his back to prevent him from escaping. "I hope you have a lawyer."

Foxy snorted, reaching for her unfinished second drink. "Tough luck."

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Todd's friends inching closer to the exit door second by second, as if they could stand a chance against a professionally trained secret agent. Luckily for them, Natasha wasn't interested in the remainder of Todd's gang of losers and merely raised an eyebrow when the other men reached the door, a tiny smirk appearing when his pleading eyes didn't cause any reaction in his friends, the spineless worms, hopping out of the door without as much as a goodbye to the man laying face-down on the dirty floor.

As soon as the police arrived, awestruck by one of the NYC's most famous superheroes just casually standing in a bar, they eagerly collected the inebriated offender, briskly escorting Todd to the squad car. The bartender and several other patrons confirmed Natasha's words that an attempted hate crime had taken place. Cops were in and out in less than fifteen minutes and the otherwise-pleasant hole-in-the-wall bar returned to its usual evening bustle.

"Celebratory shots?" Natasha laughed as Foxy exhaled, deep and slow, once her racing heart calmed down.

"My treat," the other woman motioned for the bartender and soon, a line of colorful glasses appeared in front of the women. Each downed a glass easily, slamming it back on the table. "Man, this is everything I never knew I needed," Foxy confessed with a shy smile. "Thanks, Nat. You're the best."

The spy responded with a satisfied smile, picking up another glass and holding it out for a toast. "To revenge well-deserved," the glass clicked, alcohol slid easily down their throats. "So, what now?"

Foxy's eyes shone in the bright lights of the bar, relieved and tipsy. The small empty glass twirled easily between her fingers. "Dunno," the shrug came and went. "Maybe go on vacation. To Florida."

Natasha let out a belly laugh, downing her last shot without as much as a stutter in her movements, Foxy's eyes lingering on the stray drops of alcohol running from the spy's plump lips. "A vacation with the crackheads? Romantic," the quip was received with an eyeroll from the other woman.

"Spoilsport," Foxy, too, finished her booze and placed the money and a hefty tip on the bar, tapping twice to get the bartender's attention. "I meant more like - lay on the beach, sip mimosas, look at sexy people in swimsuits..."

"Florida is for old people," Natasha objected, pulling her leather jacket back on and leading them both outside. The evening air was crisp, bringing a clearer head and re-arranging the thoughts back into a more sensible state.

Foxy easily picked up her pace to match Natasha's precise strides leading them in the direction of the former's building. The warm buzz of vodka coupled with the fresh air and her desire for retribution well-fed, Foxy settled into a comfortable silence next to the spy. They reached the building quickly, their pace brisk and distractions lacking.

"Care for a nightcap?" She didn't know what prompted her to blurt out the words; as soon as the words registered in her brain, they were already out and Foxy's face heated, fingers fumbling for the keys in her pocket, Natasha's touch still warm and lingering on the side of her leg.

The spy seemed amused, studying Foxy's nervous habits with a crooked smirk. "Sure," she agreed amicably, following the woman into the apartment building, not missing both the rigidity of her back and the added spring to her step.

A moderately sized, well-decorated apartment revealed itself behind the open door, scarcely illuminated by the NYC lights coming in from a glass wall in the living room, reflecting the vast living space furnished with a large couch.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Natasha turned around, stepping into the other woman's personal space with the grace of a predator. Two shining eyes stared back at her in the darkness, framed by fluttering lashes. Foxy's bottom lip disappeared behind her teeth, skin gleaming with perspiration.

The recently-turned blonde spy wasted no time caging the other woman between her body and the door, chests almost touching. The air around them was charged, Foxy's heart thudding loudly in her chest as she gulped. Natasha studied her expression, "You want this?" she whispered against her lips, sharing the oxygen between them.

"Ye-yeah," a short nod and a gasp later, the women were devouring each other, grasping at their hands and shoulders like they were drowning. Hot and wet and sharp from the booze, the kisses were as graceless as their fingers haste in removing each other's top layers of clothing.

The sharp corner of the living room archway dug painfully into Foxy's back, bringing an additional sense of awareness: this was real. This was happening. Natasha's blonde locks flowed through Foxy's fingers, soft and silky, a contrast to the teeth pulling on her lip in impatient hunger. Foxy grunted in response, parting from the other woman to send her t-shirt flying somewhere in the direction of the kitchen.

"Bedroom," mere minutes in and she already sounded utterly and throughly ruined.

"Couch," Natasha was equally feverish to get to the good parts. Her belt was unbuckled and the nice button-up she'd worn hung open, a plain white bra iriscendent on her alabaster skin.

Letting herself be led to the couch, Foxy could barely take her eyes off the woman in front of her, making sure she wasn't ogling Natasha outright yet secretly hoping to be caught anyway. The blonde was like a porcelain doll, unreal, firm and soft at the same time.

The moment Foxy gracelessly landed on the couch, Natasha was all up in her space, straddling the other woman with the grace of a savage cat; lips once more attached to her flesh, Natasha left a trail of hot, wet marks starting at the jawline and ending at the cups of Foxy's bra.

Not knowing what to do with her hands, Foxy grasped Natasha's hips, unable to hold back a moan heavy with lust as the spy ground down with her hips. It was exhilarating to see the other woman affected by their heavy make-out session; nothing short of absolutely smitten to see Natasha pull back, panting and disheveled, to shed her shirt and her bra.

Unable to resist the urge, Foxy's hands reached out to cup the spy's round breasts, tugging her closer to pop a rosy nipple into her mouth. Natasha shivered, arching into the caress, holding onto the other woman's hair and tugging it in the direction only she knew.

Natasha wasn't loud, she wasn't wild; her moans were more like muted gasps but her body spoke for her louder than any words: the grinding was getting more impatient, Natasha's hold grew stronger. As Foxy fumbled for the button of Nat's pants, she felt the soft, delicate lace underneath. Natasha had come prepared.

"Hold on," the spy mumbled, hopping off Foxy's lap to quickly push her pants and panties down her legs with practiced ease. The other woman followed suit, leaving herself to be bare besides her underwear, the attempt to remove them intercepted by Natasha. "Let me," quiet words tickled the skin of her throat where Nat had immediately attached her mouth.

Foxy scrambled to intake the oxygen she needed, letting herself feel the hot glide fully, having lost herself in pleasure, missing the exact moment Nat's fingertips breached the waistband of her panties. Soft and nimble, so different to a man's roughened skin, the sensation was as strange as it was sweet. The urge to arch and rock her hips against the nearest surface intensified and Foxy could only keen, quiet and high, causing Natasha to chuckle to herself.

"Enjoying yourself, sweet girl?" The miniscule trace of coyness seeped into the blonde's voice. The engorged, puffy, moist flesh of Foxy's lower lips parted eagerly to Natasha's experimental dip.

"Yeah, yes," the woman slid down, spreading her legs in invitation. "Please, touch me," begging to be filled in all the empty spaces, Foxy threw her head to rest against the back of the couch, watching Nat through unfocused eyes.

"Oh, I will," the spy purred, sliding lower to put her face next to Foxy's dripping cunt. The spy's fingers glistened with arousal and she popped them into her mouth, licking them clean before doing the same to her lover's swollen folds. The response was instantaneous and loud, Foxy shook under Natasha's expert teasing. "Stay still," she ordered quietly, patting Foxy's belly.

Molten, honeyed waves of bliss overtook common sense and awareness, tiny sparks shooting up Foxy's cunt every time Natasha suckled at her clit. The spy read her body like an open book, following the movements of her hips with her mouth, always a step ahead and slightly south. Foxy's peak was imminent, approaching rapidly, as Natasha's sweet merciless assault wrung every single drop of the thick, precious liquid out of her cunt.

It only seemed to gush more, the woman pushing her cunt into Natasha's face as the latter doubled down on her efforts to bring her to ecstasy.

The waves began deep in the pit of Foxy's stomach, making her legs tremble, her toes curl and the flutters of her cunt increase in speed and intensity. Silky soft and typhoon wet, her orgasm crashed her mind into million pieces and Nat dutifully extracted everything until the last drop with the skillful touch of her tongue and fingers.

"Tash," Foxy moaned. Her legs quivered at the slightest touch to her oversensitive cunt.

"Mhm," was the blonde's reply, contented humming getting closer and closer until the womens lips met once more in a fierce, passionate kiss.

Foxy's hands immediately sought purchase on Natasha's hips, searching for the spots that would make the spy's body song in the same way she'd done to Foxy; seemingly much more reserved, quiet but happy sighs broke past Nat's lips in response to gentle hands stroking where she was most sensitive.

"I've got a vibe in my bedroom," clarity finally broke through the orgasm haze, Foxy's brain slowly coming back to reality.

"No, I want your fingers," Natasha's reply was assertive as she moved her hips in tandem with Foxy's hand, dripping the sweetness of her around all over.

The urge to pop the fingers into her mouth was strong, so Foxy did just that, moaning at the tangy taste, Natasha's breath quietly stuttering at the sight in front of her.

"I want to eat you out," the words barely had left Foxy's mouth as Natasha flipped them so she was the one laying on the couch, spread-eagled and open for the other woman's eager mouth to explore. Wet, sloppy and so, so tender, Foxy let herself taste the arousal of her lover.

"Yeah," so soft, one could easily miss it, the approval didn't get lost in the headrush nonetheless. With grace, Foxy sought the spots that would force Natasha to break her silence with slow, broad motions until the blonde had no choice but to arch her hips into the sensations, chasing her pleasure, losing the aura of restraint she'd so carefully cultivated.

No time for self-control. The temperatures were climbing steadily with every single movement, both lost in their imperfect shared rhythm, the soft of Foxy's tongue and fingers like finest silks on Natasha's eager cunt. Two fingers slipped in without resistance, immediately seeking out the soft, spongy spot that made the blonde's toes curl and mouth open in a silent scream.

Foxy's free hand groped around for Natasha's ass hastily, bringing her hips closer to her mouth, tongue never ceasing its assault on the blonde's clit as her body grew more rigid, fingertips going white with the force she was gripping the comforter.

"Gospodi bozhe," came the mumble, the only warning before Natasha's powerful thighs locked Foxy in place as the blonde rode out her orgasm, violently shivering, dousing the other woman's face in her sweet release. Dutifully, Foxy stroked the silk of Natasha's skin everywhere she could reach, her hot breath on the blonde's pussy easing her back to Earth through the aftershocks.

Natasha's eyes opened, feeling her lover's look of adoration, and she cracked a reluctant but genuine smile. There was something about Foxy that was just so-

Natasha taglist (open, see fic hat for info; crossed out nicknames are the ones I couldn't tag, please update your info):

@mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @persephonehemingway @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox @marvelsbanner @sapphicnoodle69

[drabbles-mc]

I Know A Place

Juice Ortiz x F!Reader

Request by Anon: can you do a Juice x female reader where she's out with Juice as part of a small errand that she needed to do, and her dad Piney insisted she needed an escort due to the shit happening with Zobelle - and they have to hide at one point and (there's already some tension going on at this point) after impressing him with how much she can run, at one point he needs to pull her flush against him, and his hand gets a feel of how ripped she is and it all comes to a head when they reach a motel

Warnings: language, unprotected sex

Word Count: 3k

A/N: I did tweak a few things from the original request, hope that’s alright! I try not to be too descriptive of body types when I do reader inserts because it’s just not as inclusive, so I left it kind of vague as I do with all of my fics that are written in this style. Also, instead of a motel it’s a safehouse. But Juice still gets some so it all evens out haha. Enjoy! xo

SOA Taglist: @mijop​ @adela-topaz-caelon​​ @masterlistforimagines​ @garbinge​​ (As always, if you want to be tagged in anything going forward just let me know!)

You couldn’t deny that you were a little annoyed when the club essentially assigned you a babysitter. You’d fought Opie and Tig on it for a hot minute, only caving when Piney spoke up. There were a lot of people that you could afford to piss off but he really wasn’t one of them. He told you that you were going to have someone with you until things calmed down again, and that was that.

“Oh sure,” Opie said with a shake of his head, “you’ll listen when he says it.”

“Yea, ‘cause you’re not my father,” you shot back at him with a roll of your eyes.

“And you’re also not as scary,” Jax piped in with a laugh.

You wanted to hold onto your frustration but you couldn’t help but to crack a smile, knowing that he was completely right. Opie might’ve been tall and stoic, but he was still your brother and you still knew too many embarrassing things about him to ever be fully intimidated by him the way that you were with your father. Opie had a softness in him that your father never had.

“Who’s gonna be babysitting me, then?” you asked as you plopped down at the bar.

“Got a preference?” Jax chuckled, “I’ll see if I can make it happen.”

You looked over at him, clearly unamused, “I’d prefer to not have anyone stuck to me like glue.”

“Well that’s out of the question,” Piney spoke up with a shake of his head. He paused, turning to Juice, “Juice.”

He looked up from his laptop, eyes bright, “Yea?”

“You’re gonna be keeping an eye on Y/N for a while. Got it?”

He nodded, always glad to be given a task. You don’t think that he’d ever said no to the guys the entire time he’d been involved with the club, even when he probably should have. You looked over at him, and as annoyed as you were that you were going to have a protective detail with you, you had to admit that there were much worse people to be stuck looking at all day while you ran errands. The two of you never got a whole lot of quality time together, but he seemed sweet enough.

“Let me know when you’re ready,” you looked over at him, trying not to take your frustration out on him, “I got some shit I gotta take care of.”

“Now,” he stammered slightly as he shut his laptop, “N-I’m ready now. I’m good to go,” he nodded.

You chuckled, “Alright,” you tossed him the keys to your car, “then let’s hit the road, Juan Carlos.”

He caught the keys, but barely. You bit back a laugh as you shook your head. He tossed his laptop to the side and made his way over to you. He led the way, opening the clubhouse door for you. You flashed him a smile as you walked out, wondering how a man like him ended up in a club like this.

Letting Juice drive was a calculated decision on your part. You felt like you’d learn more about him from the passenger seat. Plus he was nice to look at and that was difficult when you needed to have your eyes on the road to drive.

“This because of what happened to Gemma?” you asked, breaking the seal of silence in the car.

“Wh-what?” his body tensed.

“All of the women being assigned body guards,” you clarified, “Is it because of what happened with Zobelle and Gemma?”

You could see him hesitate, but that answered your question as well as anything. After a moment he nodded, “Yea. Protocol until further notice.”

You nodded slowly, “Gotcha,” you looked over at him as he parked your car, “You pissed that you’ve been demoted to babysitter?”

There was a small smirk on his face as he turned and looked over at you, “Guess I didn’t consider this a demotion.”

There was something about his tone and the look in his eyes that made your face suddenly feel warm. You smiled and shook your head, “Right,” you took a deep breath to try and get your mind right, “You ready?”

He nodded, hopping out of the car so he could come around and open the door for you. You smiled, surprised by the gesture. He held his hand out to you and you took it despite the fact that you didn’t need it. You saw the way that the muscles in his arms flexed as he helped you and you found yourself involuntarily biting your bottom lip.

“You okay?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

You cleared your throat and nodded, “Yea. All good. Let’s go.”

He chuckled just loud enough so that you could hear it and you shook your head at yourself. You went from extremely annoyed with the entire situation to very into it in the matter of one car-ride and you wished that your hormones would stay out of your thought pattern. There was a reason he was assigned to make sure you stayed safe, it wasn’t exactly the best time to be gawking at him.

As you continued to check things off of your to-do list, you found that Juice really wasn’t bad company. He was sweet, and funny. You didn’t remember the last time someone made you laugh that hard while you were grocery shopping. He pushed the cart for you and you really wondered why someone who had so much gentleness in them would want to be part of an outlaw motorcycle club.

“Can we stop and grab a coffee?” you asked after you’d stacked your grocery bags in the back of the car, “My treat, since you’ve been so helpful today despite the fact that I was kinda shitty to you about it at first.”

He laughed, “Yea, coffee sounds good.”

“I know a good spot a couple blocks up. Up for a walk?”

“Sure,��� he nodded, waiting for you to start leading the way.

The two of you walked together, and you chuckled as Juice provided commentary on everyone and everything that you walked past. There was something about him that made you think that he was the kind of person to never run out of stories.

Your conversation was interrupted by the sound of yelling and cursing coming from farther up the block. Juice stopped in his tracks. Throwing his arm out in front of you to make you do the same. His brows furrowed as he listened intently, trying to figure out who was making all of the noise and why.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath before turning to you, “you gotta go.”

“What?”

He nodded back in the direction the two of you had just come from, “Get back to the car. Quickly. I’ll meet you there.”

“Juice what’s going—”

“Just go,” he nudged you in the right direction as the voices got closer, “please.”

You saw him reach into his kutte for his gun and that was the moment you decided that whatever the problem was, it was above your paygrade. You took off at a swift run as the voices got louder, and you could hear Juice yelling something back at them. You were nervous, but the only thing reassuring you at all was that you didn’t hear any gunshots. Whatever was happening, the chaos must’ve been somewhat controlled.

The run back to your car felt much longer than the walk away from it. You were practically gasping for breath as you fumbled around for your keys in your purse. Just as you were about to slide the key into the lock, you felt someone’s body press firmly up against yours. You started to let out a scream but they clapped their hand over your mouth.

“It’s me,” Juice sounded about as winded as you did, “Sorry, it’s me,” he let go of you, but his body was still flush up against yours, “Quick, unlock the door.”

You wanted to make a smart remark about how that’s what you had been trying to do before you got body-slammed, but your brain wasn’t working well enough for that. You were trying to turn your key in the lock while not thinking about the way his chest pressed against your back with each deep breath he took to recover from his run to you.

You were finally rewarded with the clicking sound of the door unlocking. You flung it open and scrambled over to the passenger seat, letting Juice climb in after you. He slammed the door shut and immediately turned the car on, throwing it in drive and peeling out of the parking lot.

Both of you were silent as he tore down the streets of Charming. You wanted to ask what that was all about, but you weren’t sure how much you really wanted to know.

Once his breathing started to level out, he glanced over at you, “You’re fucking fast,” he laughed.

You chuckled, leaning your head back against the seat, “Adrenaline and fearing for your life will do that,” you looked over at him, trying to search his face for some answers. Despite your better judgment, you asked, “What was all of that about?”

Juice sighed, knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to lie to you about it, “Zobelle isn’t the only person the club has pissed off lately.”

“Really racking up popularity points, huh?” you shook your head.

He laughed, “Yea. Mayans called off the truce. So it’s pretty much on-sight at this point.”

“Jesus Christ,” you ran your hands down your face, “So what now?”

He shrugged, still with a white-knuckle grip on his steering wheel, “Um. Good question. We can head back to the clubhouse, or we can find somewhere to lay low for a couple hours.”

The last thing you wanted to do right now was face your father and your brother. You looked at him, watching the way he stared intently at the road, “Where’d you have in mind?”

“Hm?”

“To lay low,” you sighed, “I don’t wanna fucking deal with Opie right now,” you let out a humorless laugh, “And if I don’t, I know you definitely don’t.”

He laughed despite the stress weighing on his brain, “That’s fair. I think I know a place.”

He didn’t elaborate further, and you didn’t ask him to. You rested back against the seat and watched the buildings and yards fly by your window as Juice drove you off to wherever he figured was a safe place to land. The longer he drove, the more relaxed he became, which in turn made you feel a little better as well. There was a tiny part of you that wanted to reach out and rest your hand on him, but you knew that was just the adrenaline talking, or at least that’s what you told yourself.

The car came to a stop in the driveway of a small house in a town that neighbored Charming. You’d never been there, and it didn’t look like anyone had been there in quite some time. You looked over to Juice, eyebrows raised as you waited for some kind of an explanation.

He looked over at you and gave a small shrug, “Club safehouse. Seemed like as good of a place as any to kill a couple hours.”

You shrugged and nodded, “Fair enough. It got a fridge? I don’t want all my groceries going to waste.”

He laughed, “Yea, it’s got a fridge. Your ice cream will be fine.”

You grabbed the bags out of the back of the car while he went and unlocked the house, checking to make sure that everything was alright. You knew the chances of anything happening to the two of you were slim to none. It wasn’t likely that they were able to tail you, Juice had driven all over god’s green earth to make sure that didn’t happen. Still, you felt a little better knowing that this was a designated place for laying low and staying out of trouble.

Setting the bags down on the counter, you started to take out everything that needed to be in the refrigerator or the freezer. It wasn’t much, but Juice was right when he called you out about the ice cream. It was the first thing you took out and tossed to be chilled.

You spun around to grab one last thing out of the bag and collided directly into Juice. Your hands landed on his chest while his grabbed onto your hips to keep you from stumbling further. You let out a nervous laugh, your face instantly getting hot. There was a small smile tugging at the edges of his mouth. Your entire body was trembling and as much as you wanted to blame it all on the chaos of the day, you knew there was a little more to it than that.

“You good?” his hands slid up your sides as he asked, pushing up the fabric of your shirt.

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on maintaining feeling in your legs as you nodded, “I’m good.”

He could feel the way your body was trembling slightly underneath his fingertips, “You sure?”

Your brain couldn’t come up with a single coherent thought. You were too distracted by the heat radiating from his hands, the way his chest rose and fell beneath your palms. The day had already been a trip and you figured there was no way that you could really make it all that much worse. So you gave in to the impulsive, needy part of your brain that had been quietly nagging at you all day.

Before you could try to reel yourself in, your lips crashed into his. It must’ve been exactly what he had been expecting, because his arms instantly snaked tightly around your waist and kept your body flush up against his. A quiet moan slipped past your lips as your hands roughly cupped his face, keeping his lips pressed against yours.

Hit bit down on your bottom lip with a quiet moan and the thought crossed your mind that it was one of the most beautiful sounds you’d ever heard. You pushed the kutte down off of his shoulders and instantly started to lift his shirt off over his head. He let out a quiet, breathy laugh as he obliged, gripping onto yours to help you do the same.

With no hesitation he scooped you up off the floor and carried you to the bedroom. You let out a gasp as he dropped you onto the bed and instantly began undoing your shorts. You lifted your hips to make it easier for him to slide them down your legs. He smiled as he tossed them aside, along with your underwear. You sat upright and your hands instantly went to work on his belt. You looked up at him for a moment and when you saw the way he was smiling down at you, it became almost impossible to focus on the task at hand.

Despite the distraction, you were rewarded with the sound of his jeans falling to the floor in a denim pool around his ankles. He stepped out of them and back you onto the bed, hands roaming over your body the entire time.

His lips found yours and within moments you felt his tongue running along your bottom lip. He situated himself between your legs as he kissed you, one hand sliding down your stomach and landing between your legs. His fingers traced lightly over your folds and he moaned into your mouth when he felt how wet you already were.

He took his lips off of yours only long enough so that he could position himself at your entrance. He looked up at you, eyes searching yours for the go-ahead to continue. Your hands gripped onto his hips and pulled him into you, causing both of you to moan. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, biting down onto your shoulder as he thrusted into you.

Your nails raked down his back as you lost yourself in the feeling of having him inside of you. His name fell from your lips repeatedly as his body continued to connect with yours. His hands traveled all over you, caressing every inch of exposed skin with a gentleness that didn’t at all match the intensity that he was using to fuck you, but it felt right nonetheless.

You gripped onto his biceps, nails sinking into his tattoo as you felt your orgasm building. You cursed as his pace continued to increase, his hands finding their home on your hips as he pinned you down.

“Fuck,” every muscle in your body tensed as you came. Your hands grabbed and scratched at his back and shoulders for a grip that they couldn’t find.

Juice wasn’t far behind you, quickly pulling out of you a few moments later before he did something he’d regret. He collapsed onto your chest with a deep sigh, hands gently sliding up and down your sides. It was the first time all afternoon that your body stopped trembling. After a few moments of nothing but the sound of your breathing filling the room, you heard Juice let out a quiet laugh.

You looked down at him, “What’s so funny?”

He rested his hands on your chest before placing his chin on them. There was a tiny smirk on his face as he fought to get his breathing evened out again, “Told you this wasn’t a demotion.”

You laughed, shaking your head, “You’re ridiculous.”

“C’mon,” he joked, “you gotta admit that this all could’ve gone so much worse.”

You rolled your eyes but you couldn’t wipe the smile off of your face, “I guess so,” you locked eyes with him, “How much longer you think you’ll have to keep an eye on me?”

He laughed, leaning up to place a soft kiss on the side of your neck, “Probably for a long time. Just to be safe.”

[mammons-tax-returns]

Hey! I saw that your ask box was open, so I was wondering if I could request how the brothers (if not all then just Lucifer, Beelzebub, and Leviathan) would react to the mc defending them! Like they get into a fight and their only response was "they were talking bad about you" or something! -🥀 (Also side note, do you right for GN! MC's, or just male?)

BROTHERS REACTING TO MC DEFENDING THEM

Hey anon! Thanks so much for requesting! As for your question, This is TECHNICALLY a male reader blog, however, if it isn’t necessary, I will use he/him pronouns loosely. In other words, if the prompt doesn’t specify/depend on it being a male mc, it will be gn!mc! Hope this clears up some confusion! I’ll start putting whether a post is for a gn or male mc at the very beginning of said post from now on.

✖️GENDER NEUTRAL MC✖️

fluff, some angst :).

Lucifer was more angry than anything to hear that MC had gotten in a fight. The one thing he made sure they did was to stay out of trouble. And yet, they seem to be a magnet for chaos.

He stumbled upon the fight before it got bad, and had the demon dealt with as he accompanied MC to an empty room at RAD.

Although he seemed to be sweating out of exasperation, it was easy to tell that he was simply worried about them.

Well. Kind of.

If you look past the hour-long lecture it is.

MC tries countless times to explain themself, and yet he never fails to reroute the conversation back to his lesson on running from a demon before things get bad.

It gets to a point when MC has to put a hand over his mouth to quiet him.

Only then do they explain what happened, and what caused the fight to begin with.

First, he is absolutely shocked. And he can’t really find the right thing to say.

Then, his eyes relax, and his frown seems to melt away. He truly wants to be mad still, to teach a proper lesson. But he just can’t do it.

“It is true that humans tend not to think things through, I suppose.”

He crosses his arms and continues, “Well, I appreciate it, but I don’t need the protection.”

After ruffling their hair, he smirks a little.

“I’ll have to keep a closer eye on you if you rush into situations like that. Maybe put you on a leash.”

After things are cleared up, he finds the situation a little comical. A human defending a demon.

Luckily, the wounds aren’t bad, or else Lucifer wouldn’t have hesitated giving some sort of consequence to the MC.

Mammon is, unfortunately, not around to witness or intervene into the fight.

So when the next time he sees MC there’s a dark magenta ring around their eye, he loses it.

He wastes no time taking them home from RAD. We know he never really cared for classes anyways.

Unlike Lucifer, he wants to hear them out on the way home.

Although he physically feels himself getting butterflies in his stomach from the idea of being cared for, he clears his throat and tries to push it aside.

He knows that they’re not going to be taken away from him anytime soon. At least, not with his unintentionally vice grip on their wrist they aren’t.

And yet he can’t help but constantly flick his gaze back to them and their wounds.

We were all waiting for this one: he feels horrible that they got hurt because of him, albeit indirectly.

He puts emphasis on steering clear of hotheaded demons— or, all demons that aren’t the brothers for that matter.

“I hear ya, The Great Mammon is a gem that all of devildom should be tryna’ protect! But... You’re better off ignoring that... I mean, look at ya! All beat up and stuff... N-Not that you look bad or anything. Well... Um.”

When MC laughs at him, he’s both relieved that they’re not upset enough to sulk, and embarrassed because of his wording.

So they have to reassure him that they simply find him worth protecting— for exactly this. He cares for them, and is probably willing to protect them too.

As he’s sloppily tending to their bruises, he offers to spend the day with them.

He says its his payment, and that he would defend them when Lucifer found out about today.

But it’s more so the fact that he wishes more than anything to spend every day for the rest of his demonic life with them.

Levi is another brother who is unfortunately not around at the time due to his home schooling.

That’s why he’s one of the last people to find out about it, and he feels guilt hit him like an 18-wheeler.

The injuries are a little more severe, but nothing that would keep someone from going about their daily life. Nonetheless, Levi is demanding to be the one to patch them up.

As soon as MC cuts him off before he can start rambling, they make sure to explain the situation, i.e. “I had to defend you! Or else they would have kept talking bad about you.”

He turns red and covers his mouth, undoubtedly mumbling something about how impossibly romantic the situation was.

But after that, he shakily asks that MC tries not to talk as he takes time to let everything sink in. He still can’t believe it.

So he finds himself shakily asking questions like, “So... You just heard him and decided to-... To defend me? No one asked you to?”

For every reassuring nod that he gets, he feels his head spin a little faster.

It takes him a while, but all the wounds are properly sterilized and taken care off beneath his cold fingers.

He leans back in his seat, and blows out a slow puff of air. “MC... You’re badass. Seriously. I don’t really know what I, a demon, have done to deserve you... But... Thank you.”

The conversation ends with tears, but they couldn’t have been anything but happy.

He just can’t believe someone could go as far as to fight for his sake over a simple ill-intended comment.

Satan witnesses the event. Which... May or may not be a good thing.

MC doesn’t notice him at first. They’re too busy with the demon that has her hands on their uniform collar.

But then they see the green flames licking at their peripherals, emitting from somewhere behind them.

The demon girl in front of them seems to lose all color in her face at the sight of those same flames. She instantly drops MC to their knees, and attempts to run.

As Satan steps forward to grab the female student, he spins MC around with ease so that they won’t have to witness whatever he’s about to do.

MC doesn’t know how much time has passed due to the shock of the moment. It could be seconds or minutes. But when Satan pulls them back up to their feet, he is stone faced.

MC walks stiffly to the House of Lamentation with Satan, careful not to set anything else off in him.

The entire walk to his room is silent. The first time he speaks is when he offers a seat on his bed, nudging books aside with his foot.

He takes a deep breath before he begins diligently tending to the injuries.

“Mind explaining what happened?” He doesn’t sound angry at them, but it’s hard to tell with him.

Satan notices the hesitation in answering, so he gives a small smile. “Are you scared? You shouldn’t be. I’m just a bit... Tense, is all.”

After a moment, MC tells him the reasoning for the fight.

Satan sighs once more and places a hand on theirs. Oh to be so selfless yet still be a fragile human.

“MC... Demons talk. And it’s not always nice. It’s best to just let it go, okay? Well... Give me their name first, but I can’t have you losing a limb for me. Who knows what i’d do then.”

MC can’t completely promise that they’ll simply forget about anyone that talks badly about him, but Satan only gives a helpless sigh.

“What ever will we do with you.” He is much more relaxed than before, and his tone is affectionate.

MC doesn’t know what happened to that girl, and you figure it’s best to never ask.

Asmodeus is preoccupied with a hand mirror, but a circle of gathering demons certainly catches his attention.

He hums, interested. He’s always been one for drama.

But as he peeks over the crowd, his heart sinks impossibly deep in his body.

MC isn’t bloody, but by the looks of it, they may be very soon.

While he’s ridden with shock, a punch lands on their face, and the crowd roars. The yells overtake his own, and he can’t get through the group of people pushing and shoving.

Diavolo and Barbatos were alerted of the congregation of students, and are only just now arriving. And at the sight of them, students scatter like bugs. Leaving MC on the ground and clutching their face in pain.

Diavolo and Barbatos leave MC in the care of Asmodeus while they turn to resolve the problem with the attacker.

Asmodeus is frantic, fanning his face as he helps MC to sit up. He doesn’t know what to do first, does he ask to see the wound? But what’s the point when he doesn’t really know how to treat it in any circumstance? No one has ever socked him in the face before.

So he opts to carry them off to the infirmary, bridal style. All along the way, he gives reassuring words that seem to slightly calm the injuried MC.

“Hey, beautiful! Ughh, the nerve of some demons! I can’t even begin to— Oh right... The ice pack, I’ll get that now, so sit tight, love!”

While he allows them to press the ice to their eye themself, he is massaging his frowning face. All while he seems to be worried about all the wrong things.

“Is this type of injury permanent on humans?? Your face is too good for that!” “That low-level demon... I wish I could ruin his face a hundred times worse than what he’s doing to innocent bystanders!”

MC patiently allows him to vent, because hearing him fret of the most “Asmo” things somehow brought light to the situation and distracted from the throbbing in their face.

An hour must have passed before Asmo actually takes in the situation. “Oh, but I haven’t even asked... What in devildom were you doing with such a grotesque demon? Do I have to replace Mammon in guarding you?”

Finally, MC explains.

He’s less than shocked. Instead, he holds his own arms with an almost sympathetic smile, “Oh, darling... It’s better to talk to Lucifer about things like that... If at all. As the Avatar of Lust, It’s kind of part of the program to get nasty birds twittering about you... Fan behavior.”

MC seems less than convinced, replying with a small, “But...”

Asmo grins and puts a gentle hand on their shoulder. “It’s adorable that you’d do that for me, MC, really. I wish I could just dress you up and show you to the world, show them how special you make me feel! But please. Don’t sacrifice your complexion for a-ny-thing!”

Even Asmo can feel himself get butterflies when MC does the smallest of things for him. But taking care of that face is no joke to him.

Beel is at the gym when it happens, and is the last one to hear about it. The brothers are all discreetly trying to decide whether or not to tell him. We all know how scary he can get.

MC listens to Mammon... For some reason. And that entails avoiding Beel until the scrapes and bruises on your body heal.

Bad idea. Beel now looks like a hurt puppy, and is desperately trying to figure out what he has done.

The fateful moment of realization for him comes on a Tuesday night, less than a week after the incident. MC walks into the kitchen, searching for a late night beverage to drink and also hold against their wounds.

Beel is already there, instantly looking ashamed when he sees them.

“Beel...” MC starts, forgetting that they were supposed to be avoiding him. They stop themselves before hastily pulling their sleeves down to cover the lingering bruises.

This catches Beel’s attention to detail when it comes to others.

His eyebrows furrow a bit, and MC gulps.  There was no getting out of this.

Before completely explaining everything, MC has to calm him.  Because if not, he’d be checking every inch of their body for serious injuries.  And even if there were none, he’d never let them leave bed for the next week.  At least.

They take a deep breath and start with the people poking fun at his soft personality in such an intimidating body.  And then finishing with the plan of steering clear of him to keep him from getting worried.  (you leave out mammon’s part last second)

At first, his eyes are serious as he listens intently, silently going over things more than once in his head to ensure that he was understanding the story properly.

Once MC has finished, his eyes change completely.  They’re soft, and concerned, but not overbearing.

MC felt a bit guilty seeing him like this.

Beel reaches out to hug them, but is hesitant, worried that they’d still be hurt.  So MC has to let him know that their wounds have healed for the most part.

“MC....  Firstly, thank you.” He pulls them into a soft hug.  “It makes me all happy on the inside when you do things like that.” His voice is quiet, but much too unstable.  MC knew that this was a telltale sign that he was near tears.

MC doesn’t hesitate to reach up and stroke the back of his hair, feeling him bury his head into their shoulder.

“Beel? Are you okay?”

“I should be the one asking you that.”

‘you should know better’ is what he wants to say. But maybe they don’t, he thinks. Afterall, when was the last time a human with such limited magical capability was surrounded by demons 24/7?

“I just need you to promise me.” He carefully pulls back and sucks in a breath, keeping himself from imagining MC scared and hurt without him— because of him.

“Promise me that you’ll tell me about things like that first. Before you get yourself hurt, or... Or worse.” There’s another word that he has to stop himself from saying. He doesn’t know how he could handle that thought.

There, he thinks. If they didn’t know before how serious it was, now they did. Hopefully.

The brothers notice that Beel is a bit more normal than the days before, so they assume that things have been cleared up for the two.

Although they have to pretend as if they had never heard about the incident when he mentions it.

Belphie was definitely not there when it happened.

But unlike with every other brother, MC was unable to be saved immediately after having found themselves in a brawl with a low class demon.

MC silently curses as they find themselves limping through the halls of the House of Lamentation.

They’re lucky to have only gotten out of that with an injured ankle, they remind themself. It didn’t seem... Broken. But it definitely needed more medical attention than it received now— A knee-high sock they pulled off of their foot wrapped tightly around a ruler they used as a makeshift splint.

They were sure that the majority of the brothers were at school, so they’d have at least a few hours to figure out what to do.

How would the brothers react if they saw them like this? Would they feel that this was a mere inconvenience? Afterall, this may just be a bad sprain, and now look at them. They can barely limp. Much less walk. But maybe after a bit of rest, it would magically heal.

They decide to head to the music room (?), where they knew that none of the brothers would immediately run into after school.

After finding a stool to sit on, MC hisses when they bump their ankle on the floor. The throbbing seemed to shake their whole body.

“Holy shi—“

“MC?”

A sleepy drawl from the couch behind them causes them to freeze. They wanted to slap themself. Of course Belphie would be sleeping here, why didn’t they think of that?

“What’re you doing h—....” He stops.

MC can already tell that he had noticed the poor job they had done with their ankle. “I fell down the stairs. But it’s okay, I just—“

“MC. I’m not stupid. Why are you home so early, alone? If you skipped or left early, Mammon would have sniffed you out like a dog and be here, too. Spill it.”

If Belphie was good at anything (besides sleeping), it was reading emotions. There was no lying anymore. And so MC simply explained the fight and its causes.

When they turn to look at him, he simply blinks. He doesn’t seem very concerned, but he sleepily walks over to inspect their leg.

He’s careful to support their foot as he lifts their entire leg, checking the swelling.

“... Geez. You’re stupid.” His eyebrows knit together with an unknown emotion. Worry? Irritation? A mix of both? “I don’t care about what such irrelevant demons think, and you shouldn’t either.”

MC is a little speechless, but only laughs. “Yeah. It was a little dumb looking back at it. But you should have heard them, Belphie... There was no way I’d go without a fight, okay?”

Belphie smiles back. “If you wanted to prove yourself to me... There were other ways, you know?”

“Should we get Beel to help us set up the pillow fort?”

“Well, how else are you gonna heal? You can’t get better if you don’t rest with me.”

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High: The Seven Ep 5

Through a Glass, Darkly

Welcome back to the Temple of the Earth Defiant where the girls and their magical horses (and one pony!) have found refuge from the strange, twisted, fae creatures that have been chasing them. The statue of Asha Hammerheart that Ost animated last episode is still alive and wrecking house on the remaining harpies and beasts that are foolish enough to keep fighting and the rest soon get the hint and flee. 

Ost does some healing (boosted by the ambient Hallow effect of the temple which gives everyone a short rest) and then, seeing the damage to the temple caused by erosion, starts using Mending to fix things up. Her friends help out too with Sam and Yelle being most effective--Sam by repairing water damage and Yelle by creating tree cover and other druid-y tricks. But of course, we can’t overlook Katja’s crucial addition of carving “A Horse is a Home” into one of the walls of this sacred temple. 

Anyway, the girls are nesting super hard, the horses are having their scrapbooking reviewing club (an insane thing that was established last episode) and then Sam asks a question. Did y’all mention something about a photo of me going viral? Everyone’s like yeah, but don’t worry, you looked super hot. That’s not the part Sam was worried about. What she’s worried about and what all the girls except Zelda don’t really seem to know is that Sam doesn’t really have a social media presence. So like, 180k and climbing views (as decided by a dice roll) isn’t really what she wants. She scrolls through the comments really quick and sees that they’re not awful but one person is like, “Hey that girl looks a lot like that character from that old show”. Which Sam doesn’t love. She says that she’s fine but also that, even without an Insight check, she’s obviously not. 

Sam kind of looks to Zelda to bail her out and Zelda is like, “Hey, I’m gonna delete this video.” The other girls follow suit, even though they don’t quite know what’s happening. When they have to split up to investigate, Sam has Zelda kind of bail her out again and they split up to go check a nest outside--Zelda waving off Danielle when she wants to go with. Ant and Yelle decide to check out a cache of some treasure they saw earlier and Ost and Katja stay with the horses to keep fixing the temple up. Penny initially goes with Ant and Yelle but rushes back to be with Ost and Kat when Ost discovers a hidden lock while she’s fixing a wall.

So, the girls are split up, let’s run all these scenes.

Antiope and Yelle

Ant and Yelle go see the pile of treasure (near the statue of dwarven paladin Yvonna) which they learn is like a “take a penny leave a penny” situation for weapons and items. They were left by adventures who were similarly chased here and you can take what you need as long as you leave something to help others. Like, “Oh no I only have an ice sword and I need flaming arrows.” It doesn’t have to be equivalent exchange, you just need to leave something useful.

In this space, Yelle feels a weird melancholy and like they’re within the watch of something vast and powerful. She tries to check for TK’s presence but rolls low. Antiope leaves her Kalvaxus killing shortsword and takes some really nice, white feather fledged arrows with mirror tips and an ax Kat wants as a present for her dad. Danielle takes a bandolier of potions (3 healing and 2 mystery I believe) and leaves a bunch of mushrooms. Some of them are psychedelic and Ant takes one because this is probably a good time to be high, right?

It’s not messing with her competence obviously though because she rolls a 25 on Primeval Awareness and gets a weird sense, like something is closing in on this place. And like something very powerful is bleeding, which combined with the chaos of the mountains might explain the weird harpies and the cat/dogs. But she’s high so she explains this is a very spacey, stoner way. Probably a good thing she’s with Yelle.

Sam and Zelda

Sam can fly and Zelda can basically walk vertically with her goat legs so they check out the nest. Well, ostensibly that’s what they’re doing. Really they’re just having a heart to heart. Sam thanks Zelda for saving her ass and apologizes profusely for being so short with her. Zelda gives her a huge mid-air hug and says it’s not a big deal because she knows Sam is just lashing out because she’s hurting but Sam says it’s not a good enough excuse and she’s truly sorry. It’s been her coping mechanism for so long but she doesn’t want to be that way. She tells Zelda that the Everpetals are divorcing and that she’s living alone and Zelda says that any one of the girls would be happy to have her stay with them. Sam further explains that this is a big part of the reason she’s been so broken up about the possibility of their group splitting up and Zelda immediately takes out her crystal and texts her “I’m in” in the thread, breaking Sam again. 

Since they’re in heart to heart mode, Sam tells her that she talked to her bio-mom and an agent and she’s not sure what to do. Zelda says that she’s gonna be spectacular no matter what she does and she doesn’t have to do any of them but it’s cool doors are opening for her but also Antiope and Penny are gonna be PISSED that she’s out here making side plans after she gave them so much shit for theirs. Lol, well it’s a nice moment in the meantime and we cut to…

Penny, Ost, and Katja 

While Penny is lockpicking (and also trying to teach one of the horses to lockpick because sure) Katja and Ost go talk to the statue of Asha Hammerheart. It seems to be animated with at least some level of her true consciousness from beyond the grave and that she can kind of woge into her statue when she wants, which is cool. She’s been there for like 250 years so that’s a lot of history to see. 

Ost is maybe the most polite we’ve ever seen her talking to Asha (at least to begin with lol) and they ask her about TK. Asha says she saw TK show up 12 years ago but she never left, at least not through the front door. And then about 2 years ago (right around when they were in the crystals) that’s when the harpy queen showed up. At first they were normal and then they started mutating. Also, recently, Korra (one of the other statues/heroes) saw a woman in the mountains--not TK. 

Ost then takes a page from the book of one St. Kristen Applebees and asks, “Hey. What’s the deal with our god? He never talks to us, does he just suck?” Asha--who has never talked to him even though she’s a martyred hero and literally in dwarf heaven makes some excuses for the guy but Katja scoffs at them. “If people wanna take care of you, they do.” Ost then straight up asks if Logran Soulforger is even real which sets Asha off but Ost isn’t mad AT her, she’s mad FOR her. You go and do all this cool shit to the point where you have this cool ass statue, you fully DIE for him and he doesn’t even say hi? With a 21 Persuasion check, Asha admits that yeah, she would have liked some recognition. She decides she’s gonna go do some talking to some people and leaves after getting Ost’s number but before they can ask more about the woman Korra saw (who they think is Charity). 

OK, that’s all the small group stuff! Everyone comes back as Penny finishes up with the lock and they go down into this room that’s full of polished, precious stones. This is probably where people who were upkeeping the temple stayed. While everyone else is going down, Sam feels some powerful magical pull--much like her episode 1 Lightning Lure--calling her from the top of the stairs so she goes back up. We’ll get back to her in a bit. 

Penny rolls a high check to clock what’s going on down here. First off, she finds flintlock bullets and airship uniform scraps which makes it seem like there was a battle here involving some airship guys from the Baronies. Which is not just the place of origin of Riz’s imaginary Romance Partner. It’s a cluster of nations known for high rates of monarchical turnover and renaissance style intrigue. I’m picturing just a nation of [REDACTED]s from Crown of Candy. 

With all of this stuff, Penny finds an emblem of a billionaire airship mogul named Lord Talcidimir Tallbreeze who is a friend of her dad’s. Yelle is immediately like FUCK billionaires which isn’t plot relevant but it’s nice to know she’s always on brand. 

Oh also, Penny just casually finds the Legendarium so that’s neat. 

To be safe, Ost casts Protection from Energy on Ant (who is the one who knows how to use it) and brings out her Spirit Guardian (who is a combo of her mom, nona, and Asha, with her dad’s rings). Ant checks it out and sees that there are currently no A, B, or C quests in all of Spyre. While Penny cross references the bylaws to see if there’s a way to get around this, Yelle does some druid BS that I still do not understand to use the crystals in the cave to jailbreak this super powerful magical Artifact so they can just have copies on their crystals. While that’s happening, let’s check on Sam. 

Sam goes back up the staircase where she sees Ending who doesn’t look menacing at all, just extremely sad. She’s looking out the mouth of the cave and, when she turns, Sam can see she’s crying blood. 

“What’s wrong?” asks Sam, the acid-tongued but good-hearted. “Can I help you?”

With a 25 Persuasion check to get her to talk, Ending apologizes for scaring her and her friends before. She didn’t mean to. She sometimes forgets that her very nature can be frightening and dangerous to others. She says that when she escaped, she tried to rejoin her sisters but found their mirrors shattered and them gone. Sam thought they escaped but that doesn’t make sense to Ending. If they had, why wouldn’t they have freed her as well?

Sam asks who her sisters were and we finally get true names for Ending and her sisters:

Chrona, Terra, Pyrria, Nira, Zefira, Anima, and herself, Talura (which is what I’ll be calling her now that we know). Talura is the baby, the youngest. Sam realizes she’s talking about the Eidolons and Talura seems surprised and a bit pleased that Sam recognizes them. 

Sam asks if she can hug her and Talura hugs her tightly in a very cold embrace that doesn’t hurt. Downstairs, she hears her friends (Penny specifically) freaking about about the lack of quests but she doesn’t break the hug. 

“My own sisters are struggling right now but I’m gonna stay with you because you don’t know where yours are. But maybe we can find them.”

Talura clocks that the way that Sam is being is her true nature, not the bitchiness she often uses as a shield. Then she starts to talk about her history. That she and her sisters were sealed away when the gods were done with them (Sam can relate to being used and set aside) and the only way out was death. Talura has been crying and looking for her sisters to no avail. Her tears of blood leaking seems to be what caused the monsters to mutate which is in line with what Yelle and Ant were sensing. 

Talura doesn’t think anything could have destroyed her sisters so she’s very confused. Sam offers Talura her Mirror of the Past because it almost knocked out Sam to get god-tier information but Talura presumably won’t have that problem. Talura offers her a boon in exchange for this great kindness but Sam says she doesn’t need any quid pro quo. “This is just because you’re hurting.”

Talura is supremely touched and still wants to do something for her new...friend? Sam accepts the title and says that what she needs is some help on her GED quest. Once she explains what she means, Talura again recognizes Aguefort and is like, Oh, you need a quest? I can totally help with that! As we learned earlier, these guys are kinda genie connected so it’s not super surprising when Talura very happily goes full your wish is my command.

Downstairs, a Class A quest suddenly appears in Spyre on the screen. 

Back upstairs, Talura says that it’s been too long since she got to grant a wish and seems really happy about it. Sam gives her the mirror so she can check what happened to her sisters but when she does, she totally flips out and gets super angry--not at Sam, just at whatever she’s looking at. She can hardly believe it. Sam tries to figure out what’s wrong but she just gets super big and then disappears into a puff of smoke, leaving Sam's mirror on the ground, covered in frost. 

Downstairs, the Class A quest expands across the entire globe and then the Legendarium cracks. Ost’s spirit guardian disappears because of alarm bells ringing in the afterlife. And the girls learn that a Class A quest is a quest that affects the whole MULTIVERSE. Yikes!

So anyway, they girls go upstairs to check on Sam (on a bear that Penny makes because sure) and they see that something clearly just happened with Sam. Yelle asks if she’s good and Sam is like yeahhhh I don’t think ANYONE is good right now. Sam seems like she’s about to cry and Antiope instantly forgets all the petty bullshit going on between them and rushes to make sure she’s not hurt. 

Sam gives the girls a rundown of what happened and Yelle concretely puts together what I said earlier about Talura’s tears messing with nature. 

Sam wants to check her mirror to see what Talura saw and Brennan says she can do it the safe way with risk of failure of the surefire way with risk of personal harm. She, of course, picks door 2 and rolls a 13 on her con save which means she rises into the air like Storm from X-Men, eyes wide, and then instantly passes out and goes into shock. Antiope is there to catch her as she does. 

Also, she looks SUPER hot while falling on a 31. Honestly, it’s a shame she doesn’t allow herself a social media presence. 

Anyway, we’ll get to what she sees in a bit. Yelle and Ant make sure she’s OK (she is, but the has to be knocked out for this or she won’t be able to handle it). 

Penny tells them what she knows about each Eidolon from her earlier research which is what element each goes with:

Chrona: Time (Related to astral and elemental planes) 

Terra: Earth

Pyrria: Fire

Nira: Water

Zefira: Air

Anima: Life

Talura: Death 

They also talk about TK never leaving via the front door and all this airship stuff being around. Maybe she left out the top of the mountain on an airship? Katja has the hookup with this Tal guy (she’s met him when she was younger) so they decide they need to check it out once Sam is good. 

The girls fix the Legendarium and Ost, when she goes to pray for her spells for the night, doesn’t pray to her usual god. She prays to Asha. And not only does she get her spells, she also gets a new one--Commune. 

And now let’s get to what Sam is seeing in her Vision Coma. 

She was told by Talura that the only way out of the mirrors given to them by the gods was death. And what Talura saw that drove her to do whatever multiverse threatening thing that she did was every one of her sisters walking out of their mirrors and choosing death. I will specifically highlight that the oldest sister leaves almost immediately with a small, “Oh,” of realization and Anima, the closest sister to her seems terrified before coming to a joyful realization and leaving.

And that’s the end of the episode! Join us next week when apparently there is talk of a masquerade ball?????? Brennan, you shouldn’t have!   

Superlatives 

Sam: Most Likely to Accidently Snag a Brand Deal

Did you guys ever read the Greek myth of Cupid and Psyche? Where Psyche was born so hot that it was basically a curse and she was miserable because she was so hot that Aphrodite hated her? That’s Sam. She is incapable of almost dying in a non-aesthetic way. It’s like a Pantene commercial every time. This is my favorite running gag.

Random Thoughts

Man, I have so many feelings about Sam. She’s such a BITCH in so many ways but it’s so obvious that she has a good heart. Every time she has an opportunity to be nice with no gain--helping Lola find her dog, magically turning the pages for the horses during book club, fully refusing a boon from Talura--she does. And I’m glad she gave Zelda such a sincere apology and didn’t let the extenuating circumstances absolve her because she said some pretty uncalled for things. But at her core she’s so kind and I want only good things for her. 

Also those of you who know me from my FH recaps know I’m a messy bitch for sister stuff so Talura and Sam both referring to the other maidens as her sister had me dead. You can tell when something in this show is f’ing me up when I just start directly quoting instead of paraphrasing. 

Katja being richer than Helio but having no idea what any of the brands Ost is mentioning are is peak comedy.  

As is Ant’s response to the take and penny leave a penny translation from Ost, “No, Penny didn’t come with us.”

Ost: I get service in the afterlife.

You could really tell which of the players watched Sophomore Year because the Baronies came up and all of them went into fight or flight immediately. 

Very Elsa vibes from Sam during the top of the scene with Talura. (Sam is, of course, a better sister but we simply do not have time to get into my feelings on Frozen 2 right now).

I was wondering why this season was called just “The Seven” when it dropped initially. Like, was it snappier? Did they not want to use the word “maiden”? But they still call themselves the Seven Maidens in the show so it’s probably not that. Now I’m wondering if it’s just to parallel the 7 of them w/ the 7 Eidolons. 

So it seems clear based on the reactions of the first and sixth sisters that they didn’t just “go gently into that good night” as Ant would say and ditch Talura. It seems like they figured something out. Also Brennan isn’t really a “and then they all died, the end” kind of DM, you know? Credit to my friend @camwritery for getting here before I did but the gods said the only way out was death and she is death so you know? Those def seem like puzzle pieces that go together. 

The only crit rolled this episode is a 1 by Penny which she gets to reroll as a halfling. 

[mammonsvulva]

 i personally find it super interesting when writers incorporate their own culture into their work could you do like a head canon of everyone doing something from your culture with MC? F!MC please if you can

Oooh I actually really like that idea ~~I am mixed but I’ll pick something from my Hispanic side and give you this😚

Thank you to Prince Royce and Romeo Santos for existing.

(Definitely will do the Datables soon🥳)

The Brothers learning to dance Bachata

Lucifer❤️

Is actually intrigued and excited to see MC wanted to teach him something from her culture

Literally what the fuck is this)

Doesn’t really like it at first but will try for MC

Practices in secret to show off to MC

Will make direct eye contact just to see her blush

“I will be the only one you dance this intimately with, do you understand?”

Is glad he took the time to learn when MC becomes homesick.

“May I join?” When he catches MC dancing by herself trying to remember what it was like up back home

Hoping that dancing with her in her room would be enough to cheer her up

Mammon💛

Is interested and actually excited to see what MC was hyping up

Literally flips the f*ck out when he sees the intimacy required

“I want to keep practicing to get better”

(“I want to stay this close to you MC”)

Actually, when Mammon finally starts getting good he gains some confidence

Actually gets really into it, hip movements on GOD MODE (making MC ready to act up🚫🧢)

Once when Mammon and MC were at some party he got invited to, Mammon was getting ‘concerned’ for MC

Concerned = Jealous

Thank God MC chose some music cause obviously he had to start flexing on these low level demons

Kinda really actually gets all cocky while dancing cause he’s confident in what she taught him

Gets super embarrassed thinking about it later (💔)

Leviathan💙

MC wants to teach him to dance? Normie shit dude

Does the “WOOOOAAAHHH” noise and immediately burns up when she starts demonstrating on him

MC forces him to learn and he just complains the whole time

(Like man she can see you blushing dude you not slick)

“This is such Normie stuff” and “I could be watching anime rn” while stuttering constantly

(My mans heart can’t take this bruh, he’s gonna pass out)

(Secretly enjoys and asks dumb questions to keep her close)

One day they’re listening to Levi’s play list to hear that he added some of her songs

After some convincing, they end up dancing and giggling around his room for a while

Satan💚

Has read books about all types of human dance but has never actually attempted to do so

Doesn’t take much convincing, is obviously taking every opportunity given to touch MC👀

Is glad to have MC this close so he can tease her, and flex on his brothers

“Your hips make very good hand rests, I wonder how long it takes for you to get tired of swinging them,”

Loves seeing the way she lights up when he goes to spin her or when her favorite part comes on

Is definitely going to learn Spanish so he can say whatever he wants, whenever he wants and only she will understand

When he sees her stressfully studying in their library he knows just the way to help

Just dance away the stress listening to her favorite songs

Asmodeus💞

Down before he even knows what the fuck bachata is

(“Can I teach you how to-“ “Yes.”)

“OOH LALA MC! FEELING BOLD TODAY ARE WE?”

Gets it immediately, literally almost as good as MC and he just learned

Asmo is thee perfect dance partner on Diavolo

Will dance ‘til MC drops cause he won’t

When the DJ at The Fall®️ starts taking song requests and Asmo sees MC go up, oh yeah- shit is bout to go down

Start going HAM with everybody hyping them up, videos went viral on Devilgram

Suddenly everyone wants to learn, especially everybody who crushes on them two- in hopes of getting a dance like that~

Beelzebub🧡

Is happy to learn anything for MC :)

Really likes the music, and also likes how close MC is, (‘She smells nice’)

Since MC is so much smaller than Beel he barely holds her in fear of hurting her (💔)

“But what if I hurt you? :(“

Is just so pure the whole time, genuinely just enjoying the moment

When MC was cooking dinner, she started humming a song she had danced to with Beel

So obviously Beel had to play it and dance around with MC while she was cooking

Stress free, just spinning around the kitchen having fun

“BEEL WAIT THE FOODS BURNING!!”

Belphegor💜

Takes every bone in MCs body to convince him

“Can we da-“ “No.”

Literally makes MC peel him from his bed

Finally gave in and surprisingly had it down in a couple of minutes

Will tease just because he can by making smug comments and pulling MC a little closer than she needs to be

“Who knew you would feel like this pressed up against me? Honestly, you’re making it hard to let go”

Personally LOVES it when MC puts her face in his neck, makes him feel all fuzzy and whatever

Everybody was sitting around listening to stories from MCs home and things she liked to do, when Belphie brings up what they have been practicing

Obviously has everyone heated because he only brought it up to flex on them

(‘Haha you f*ckin wish MC thought you this’)

Mammon is throwing a fit while Asmo is hyping them up, literal chaos with the others too

In the end, is actually very glad she convinced him to learn from her, because now he has every excuse too stay close to her

I hope you guys like this one even though it’s kind of specific :( </3

[alderaani]

conceal don’t feel

Summary: Fox removes his helmet in front of Riyo for the first time, and she very much likes what she sees. | AO3 

Pairing: Foxiyo, no warnings.

A/N: I’m not even really sure where this came from, but it has been all my brain wanted to write for the past two days, so.......here she is.

Riyo knew what it was like to fall.

It was a rite of passage on Pantora to climb the cliffs outside the capital, the only high point disturbing the tarnished gleam of the marshlands for hundreds of miles. It usually took adolescents several tries to reach the top and Riyo had been no different, just one of many amongst the blue-and-purple sea of her peers. She’d been fifteen then, straddling the cusp of adulthood and desperate to prove herself. How funny, now, that she wanted to peel back a decade and tell that young girl to slow down, not rush, to cling on to her youth.

The day of her climbing she’d been so impatient, so sure that she would be among the first to reach the top. It had lasted as long as it took to leave the ground before all ambition had been wiped away, the world narrowing down to the tips of her fingers, the pads of her toes and the way she sought out crevices in which to place them. She wasn’t the first to fall, nor was she the last. The memory was sharp and clear, like the cold air near the top of the ridge, where the birds took flight from their nests and swirled, screaming, around their earthly intruders. She’d hesitated a beat too long, her fingers sliding on the slick rock, and then there had been the lurch of her stomach dropping out, the white noise of terror supernovaing inside her skull. The split second of free-fall, of feeling totally and utterly weightless, before gravity had set in. The sudden finality of the drop, of the way the air rushed through her horrifyingly empty fingers.

The ropes had caught her, of course, along with the eager, guiding hands of her friends, and before long she’d been stood on the peak, feeling the wind corral the backs of her legs and pull teasingly at her hair, victory surging in her gut. But the feeling had stayed with her - that long, eternal moment, like a drawn in breath.

It was the sort of thing most people didn’t experience twice. But now here she was, staring into Commander Fox’s face and stepping into free fall.

“Senator?” He was saying, his hands firm and solid on the curves of her shoulders. Her poncho had gone awry in the bomb blast that had shattered her windows and put the Senate into lockdown, and he pulled up the edges and tucked them round her almost absentmindedly. She shivered at the feeling of his gloved fingers brushing over her naked skin, despite the blunt efficiency of the touch.

“Senator Chuchi?” The commander repeated, his hands going tight. “Senator?”

When she didn’t reply, unable to do anything but stare, he released one of her shoulders in favour of putting his commlink to his mouth.

“I need a medic here stat. Think the Senator’s going into shock.”

That was enough for her to shake her head, feeling the scrape of her hair pieces against her scalp where they’d gone awry. Pulling some sort of composure together out of the rubble was harder, though she did her best seeing the worry in those brown eyes.

Was this always what he looked like under that helmet? Was there always so much feeling, fleeting and raw across his naked face? She was so used to having to parse out his emotions from the slant of his shoulders, the tight motions of his hands, the hard shape of his voice, that so much bare skin was almost overwhelming. 

“Sorry, Commander, I’m well,” she murmured. His eyes were a brown she’d seen literally a thousand times, but somehow were completely different. The full lashes, the little creases developing at the corners, the flecks of gold sitting bold at their centres. The hard, piercing gaze that was all Fox, breathtaking without his helmet in the way. It was almost worth the ruin her office had been turned into to have seen the strong line of his jaw, the soft streaks of grey hair developing at his temples. His lips looked chapped and raw, and a not-insignificant part of her wanted to touch them with her thumb. 

“Senator, you’ve been staring at me for five minutes,” Fox informed her flatly, voice deep and scratchy with a bass that the vocoder must usually filter out. “And - kriff, you’re bleeding.”

“What?” Riyo reached up to touch her face, then squeaked when Fox caught her wrist and reached into his utility belt for a tissue, which he used to dab at her hairline. There was a flash of pain as it came away dark, and the cold night air funnelling through the open window sharded against her bare skin, sending shivers wracking through her body.

“Oh,” she breathed, as Fox cursed and pressed the tissue back down. As he shifted she caught sight of a thin line of red beading on his cheekbone and tilted her head. “You’re bleeding too.”

“Just stay still, Senator,” Fox said, ignoring her comment in favour of glancing over his shoulder and shifting so that his body was between her and the door. His uncovered curls lifted as a fresh gust of wind blew in, his shoulders hunching. She saw him glance at his helmet more than once, resting by his feet with the visor shattered, and considered how odd this must be for him too as she let herself be manhandled away from the window to one of the plush green chairs in the corner, stained now and blackened with soot. 

“I’ve never seen your face before. It’s very nice,” she said before she could help it, fighting the urge to clap her hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant to say it out loud, or to phrase it like he’d picked it at a store. 

Usually she was so careful around the Commander, so choosy with what she said. Riyo had learned early on that blunter commentary would make Fox withdraw, turning him back into a professional pillar of plastoid and paint. Too many nights of him leading her escort back to her apartment had gone by in silence before she’d mastered the knack of weedling him into polite conversation, like luring a baby loth-cat into the open. 

She liked him - liked the way the harsh things seemed to roll impassively off his back, the way he turned to stone should anyone cross him or his brothers, the plainness of his feelings when you knew how to look. She didn’t know why she’d felt so compelled to learn his tells, and he hadn’t invited her in as much as she’d bothered to knock. Commenting on his face, bared without permission, felt much more like picking the lock and forcing entry to the tight facade he so carefully maintained.

It seemed to be a night for surprises, though. Fox just tilted his head, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“You’ve seen several of the Guard, before, yes?”

Riyo nodded, then winced as it sent pain skittering down her neck. Fox noticed, of course, and moved one hand to support the base of her skull while he continued to press down on the wound. Now that he’d mentioned it she could feel the blood trails tickling as they dried down her cheek. 

“Then you have seen my face, Senator. I got the standard GAR issue, same as everyone else.”

She shook her head before she could think better of it, and realised suddenly that she was trembling, shivers wracking up her arms. Perhaps the Commander was onto something with his assertion of shock. 

“Now that’s not true at all,” she murmured, aware that she was setting herself up for another fall but unable to stop the words tumbling out. “Now that I know it, I’d recognise yours anywhere, Fox.” 

His brow crinkled, concern burning bright in those pretty eyes, and she realised, distantly and unable to care much, that she’d never called him by name before. Not without ‘Commander’ attached, at least. He raised his commlink again. 

“What the Sith-hells is taking so long, Oops? Get your shebs up to level fifty now,” he hissed, then pressed down firmly when she shifted again. “Please stay still.” 

“I’m cold,” Riyo said quietly, closing her eyes briefly until Fox made a low sound and shook her, just a little. 

“Come on Senator, keep talking to me. Are you sure there’s no medkit in here?” He asked.

Riyo gestured at the still-smouldering remains of her desk. “There was one in the third draw down.” 

Fox cursed, soft and sharp, and despite the cold and the way her head was swimming, it made her giggle. 

“Sorry Commander,” Came a panting, tinny voice. “I’m in the stairwell now, moving to your location. It’s chaos down here, ‘m gettin’ run over by half the karking Senate.” 

“Tell him corridor 847 is always empty,” Riyo murmured. “The maintenance tunnel half way down pops out just opposite my aide’s office.” 

Fox raised an eyebrow but dutifully relayed the message, getting a laugh and an affirmative from the medic on the other end. 

“Don’t give me that look,” she said, instantly regretting it when Fox’s expression shuttered. “No - I mean - you can laugh. I suppose it’s silly, but sometimes it’s the only way to avoid Senator Bronn. I climb in there with a datapad and pretend I’m out until he leaves. Courageous of me, isn’t it?” 

Fox’s forehead creased. “Is he giving you trouble?”

Riyo laughed weakly. “No, no, it’s very kind of you to worry, Commander. He just likes to talk too much and orders the worst food - some sort of delicacy from his home, I think, but they taste awful. And it would cause offence to refuse.”

There was a short pause before Fox’s lips stretched into a small grin, his head ducking as if to hide it from view. 

“So you hide in the maintenance halls?”

Riyo couldn’t help the answering smile that burst onto her face, even as her cheeks went hot. Their gazes met, and the jolt that ran through her was electric before she forced herself to look away. She swallowed thickly. 

“I’ve never liked confrontation,” she shrugged. “So where I can, I avoid it. Perhaps not the best trait in a Senator.”

Where Fox’s hand still cupped the back of her neck she felt the gentlest pressure, the quick sweep of a thumb against the dip of her spine. 

“Seems like we could sometimes do with more of that to me,” he said, voice soft but still amused. At this distance she could see the light stubble on his cheeks, a small scar on the bridge of his nose that had paled with time, the deep purple shadows ringing his eyes. 

Riyo stilled, lost again in the thrill of every little detail, and still hadn’t responded by the time they heard a thump and a yelp from outside the door. Fox rolled his eyes, but she could see the tension drain out of his shoulders.

“That’ll be Oops.” 

She smiled. “A promising name.”

Fox smirked. “He’s one of our best, Senator. I’ll let him in.” 

The cold rushed back in from the moment he let her go, but she could almost still feel the imprint of his hand on her skin, the weight of his eyes on her. Fox stood from where he’d been kneeling next to the chair, then turned to go to the blast door.

Riyo cleared her throat.

“Commander Fox?” 

He turned, the emergency lights slanting red over the bridge of his nose. 

“I meant it - what I said. You do have a pretty face. And I’d recognise it anywhere, GAR standard issue or not.” 

It seemed awfully important that he know, right now, before this moment ended, even though she couldn’t articulate why. She had to let him know that it mattered; that for however little it was worth, considering what she was and what the system she was part of made him do, she could see him. 

“I think that may be your head wound talking, Senator. But...thank you.”

He raised his hand towards the control panel, his head ducked, but as he pressed a button and the lights went green, Riyo could see the shy, bashful smile forming on his lips. 

She could only hope that he’d deem her worthy of that great privilege again.

taglist: @simping-for-fives @leias-left-hair-bun @nelba @iscream4clones @dom-i-nic @battletales | list here

[bellesque]

Stop & Smell the Flowers (Loki x Reader)

A Loki Oneshot for the Spring Time with Loki Collab Collection on AO3. Also on my AO3.

Rating: Explicit

Words: 8.9K BIG yikes

Tags/Warnings: Sex Pollen (therefore Mildly Dub-Con), Smut, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay, Orgasm Denial, Sex in Space, and some hints of a Praise Kink

Summary: Plant samples from Alfheim and a brooding god as your only companions in a small Quinjet sounds like a recipe for disaster, but some good things can happen in ten hours.

A/N: All I can say is... whoops, my hand slipped?

THE RIDE BACK to Earth is longer than you anticipated.

The small Quinjet is a sturdy and silent thing, the engine’s muffled hum a constant as you hurtle through space. It’s a drawn out, unceasing sound; it brings your boredom to the forefront of your consciousness and warps it into a false sense of steady calm. You might even be able to close your eyes for a second, seeing as there’s nothing but blackness before you—

“Wake up,” a voice snaps from behind your pilot chair, punctuated by a sharp snap of fingers. “You will not crash this ship.”

You straighten in your seat, unfazed by the bite in your companion’s tone. You blink a couple times, squeezing your eyes shut as you stifle a yawn.

“There’s literally nothing to crash into, Loki.”

Heavy boots thud against the metal floor of the ship until they stop by the copilot chair a few paces away from you. “You never were the vigilant type to begin with.”

This time, you sigh. “Look, if it makes you feel better, I’m turning on autopilot. If you can’t trust me, trust Stark. His tech is unparalleled. We will be fine.” You punch a button on the control panel, and the low hum of the Quinjet rises slightly in pitch. Swiveling around in your chair, you turn to face the god with raised hands. “See? No hands. All good. Course set.”

Loki stares at you, his features set in an unamused scowl, before turning on his heel to the farther side of the ship.

It takes a little more willpower than usual not to allow yourself to snap back at him, but you manage. After all, you’re both pretty tired, and he’s most likely antsy because of how long you’ve been cruising through the void of space. You’re sleepy, he’s irritable.

Still, your estimated time of arrival isn’t for another eight hours, and seeing as you’re going to be stuck with each other you might as well try to maintain some semblance of cordiality.

“So,” you begin, pushing up and out from your seat, “Alfheim was pretty.”

Loki stands by the glass window that shows you nothing but the expanse of space. His reflection is so clear that the details—like the strong slope of his nose, his aristocratic cheekbones—are unmarred.

“Yes,” he answers curtly. “Home to the Light Elves. As Stark briefed earlier, if you had been paying any attention.”

You swallow the retort, letting it fizzle out on the tip of your tongue. Stark did brief you on your mission, alright. You just wish knowing how to handle a brooding, irritated god was one of the things on Tony’s agenda.

Your mission was simple enough—collect some plants and flowers and shrubs and cuttings, he said. All the planty things. It’ll be quick, he said. Two rides through the Bifrost from Earth to Heimdall’s Observatory in Asgard, and then to Alfheim, followed by a short Quinjet ride to the nearby planet-slash-moon-thing, he said. Piece of cake, won’t take too long to get there.

He failed to mention how long it would take you to come home since you couldn’t use the Bifrost for reasons that were “none of your damn business.”

“You know, you’re not usually this much of a pain in the ass,” you find yourself saying as you stand side by side.

“And you’re not usually this mouthy,” he replies. He cocks his head at you. “Are you certain the coordinates have been set for Midgard?”

“Yes, sire,” you say, unable to keep the mocking tone from your voice at bay. “I told you. Trust me. If not me, then Stark.”

You lapse into silence, watching distant planets and stars twinkle against the dark backdrop of the void, the unending vastness pulling you into thought.

You’ve been working with the Avengers for just about a year. In this time, you’ve gotten to know everyone in the tower.

Including Loki.

He’s… quite a character, to say the least. Silent. Calculating. Not plotting his next attempt at world domination, but still, many are wary of his presence. You’ve spent enough time with him to know he’s a different Loki from the one in New York, though. You’d even go as far as to say that he’s… almost kind of good. Wreaking chaos, sure, by way of annoying the hell out of Steve and Tony especially, but… good.

And you’ll even admit to yourself, just a little, that he’s nice to be around. Not right now; no, he’s unnecessarily bitchy at the moment. But when it’s just you and him in the tower while the rest are either off-world or taking a day off outside the tower, it’s almost refreshing. His presence is companionable. When you watch a movie, his comments are genuinely witty and they make you laugh. He’s more aloof—more himself, you feel, and he allows himself to actually fucking smile.

And hell, when he does, looking at you with those green eyes and that heart-wrenching, happy smile—

You huff, squashing the blooming feeling in your chest. Pivoting on your heel, you make towards the other side of the ship: the small corner by the hatch that holds your collection of plants from today’s excursion. Maybe the weird, exotic flowers will keep you from acknowledging your tiny (but growing) crush.

“Do you have plants like this on Asgard?” you ask, hoping to inject some light into the heavy and tired air that hangs between you.

It takes Loki a second to move from his stance by the opposite window, but he ends up by your side eventually. He picks up a glass jar that houses a plant with blue, stunted leaves. “No.” He brings it up to eye level, examining it and rotating it in his hand. “The plants we’ve acquired are native to the Alfheim regions, it seems.”

“What does Stark want with them?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea.”

He sets down the jar with a dulled thunk and picks up another. The flower inside this one is pretty: curling petals with an orangey, reddish, and golden iridescence to it. It glitters in the low light of the Quinjet’s interior, and you can’t help but voice your admiration for it.

“Do you know what that one’s called?”

“No.”

“So why’d we get it?”

Loki’s eyebrows scrunch together, shifting his weight to the other foot. “Are you a child, mortal? Why must you ask such—”

You never get to hear the rest of Loki’s question; the Quinjet makes a hard, stuttering sound, almost as if it’s skidding over gravel, and the entire ship lurches forward and then sideways. The scraping sound of metal doesn’t cease as the ship continues to vibrate from the turbulence. You lose your balance, clutching at air to steady yourself, only one particularly hard jerk to the side causes you to stumble into Loki with a soft oof.

The pair of you are jostled to the floor, and the next thing you register is the distinct sound of glass shattering.

After a few seconds, the vibrations stop. Thankfully, because you were really starting to worry that dying in space was going to become an actual thing. The lights flicker before steadying and it resumes its normal hum as though it didn’t just go through the most unholy turbulence you’ve experienced. Granted, this is only your third time in space, but the unexpected collision leaves you spooked out nonetheless.

“What was that?”

It’s this moment that your mind chooses to notice that Loki’s chest has seemingly cushioned your fall, the top half of your body splayed on top of him.

Feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, you hastily clamber off him. “Shit, I’m so sorry.”

He doesn’t say anything, only rises to his feet and dusts off the front of his clothes. “You and I are in big trouble,” he says.

You hurry to the cockpit, which isn’t much of a cockpit considering how small the ship is compared to what Stark usually provides. A space rock just about the size of the ship lazily rolls away. “Looks like an asteroid?” you say, uncertain. “Are we caught in a belt?”

“No, it was a rogue one. The trouble I pertain to is not that, mortal. I’m afraid we’re one plant short now.”

“What?” Your head whips to the back so fast that your neck cricks, and you rush to the spot Loki points at.

Broken glass, and a flower that’s lost some of its iridescence. Some particles glitter on the metal floor, and you curse.

“There’s a spare jar in one of the overhead cabinets. Maybe we can still salvage this one.” You sigh. “What if this had some super special healing power and we just ruined it?”

“I told you not to crash this ship, and yet—”

“Shut it, Reindeer Games.” At this, you can see in your periphery how Loki’s nostrils flare just the slightest at the nickname. He hates it. Hates it because Stark uses it.

You manage to pick up the bigger pieces of broken glass without inadvertently cutting yourself and throw it into the waste bin. Loki hands you—well, more like shoves into you—another glass jar, into which you carefully place the flower. You slot it with the other plant samples and straighten up.

“There are still some smaller shards of glass around here,” you say, gesturing vaguely at the floor, “so we just need to be careful when we walk here.”

The floor shimmers in some angles: some attributed to the minute glass shards, some from the flower. Loki dips his chin in acknowledgment before resuming his perch by the window, staring out at the abyss of space as he was doing before you and he decided to look at the Alfheim plants.

A decision you’re regretting more and more with each passing minute.

You’re back in the pilot chair, scanning for any possibility of crashing into another space rock. If what you were feeling earlier was sleepiness, how you’re feeling right now is that tenfold with an extra weight of ten pounds on your head. Your eyelids are heavy and your body is beginning to feel warm. You sniffle, your nose a little congested, and a sneeze permeates the silence.

You swivel around to face Loki. The simple action of it causes your head to spin; you feel almost lightheaded, the same feeling you get when you’re sick. You steady yourself by planting your feet on the floor. “Hey. Are you feeling a little woozy?”

Loki’s eyes snap to you, concern written on his features. “Are you feeling unwell?”

“Not really. Feels like… like an allergy. From the flower.” You sneeze again. “Head’s heavy. Wanna sleep.”

“There’s a pull-out cot you can rest in.” In a flash, Loki’s helping you up, one arm around your waist. You can’t stop your eyelids from closing this time, feeling your grip on consciousness slip from you as your head lolls onto Loki’s shoulder. It’s a weird feeling. Heavy and light at the same time. You want to voice how it feels, but all that comes out is another sneeze.

“Perhaps the Alfheim flowers are a little too intense for your mortal body.”

Maybe it’s the allergies, but you swear you hear the hint of a smile in his voice. Loki drapes a blanket over you—wait, is he tucking you in?—and cards his fingers through your hair. You’re not sure if it’s real or not, but it feels nice.

“Sleep,” he says, voice distant and muddled. “I will take care of the ship.”

It doesn’t take you long to fall asleep to the Quinjet’s comforting hum.

 --

It’s hot.

Way too hot.

You blearily open your eyes, the feverish warmth that’s spread over your body the first thing you notice. The funny thing is you’re hot but you aren’t sweating. At all.

Just warm.

Excessively so.

“It’s hot,” you blurt out dumbly, sitting up on the strangely comfortable cot. The blanket falls away from you as you squint at Loki’s silhouette in the pilot chair.

The lights are a little dimmer, you think. Not as harsh and cold, blinding white too, but almost warm. You didn’t even know the ship had that feature.

Loki doesn’t answer you. You realize this a little late after marveling over the Quinjet’s new lighting. “Are you hot?” Your voice sounds foreign, different to you—a different timbre, a little more hoarse.

“Not particularly.”

Your stomach does a little flip because shit, his voice sounds different too.

You swallow, rising to your feet. “How long was I asleep?”

“I did not keep track. Perhaps an hour. Maybe two.”

He swivels in the pilot chair, and your stomach does a funny kind of flip. He’s the perfect picture of a confident, cocky prince with a sort of casual regality; he’s leaning back just a little lower with his legs spread open, one arm hanging over the armrest while the other is bent at the elbow, a closed fist by his face. Like he sits on his own throne, proud and powerful and incredibly sexy.

And you’ll be damned if you don’t admit it’s an attractive sight.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks, his head falling to one side. The intensity of his gaze burns into you, and something inside you coils unmistakably. What the hell…?

“I…” your voice catches, and you clear your throat. “I did. Maybe—do—uh, do you want to take a nap this time? ’Cause I can keep watch.” You hurry to your feet, and your legs feel like jelly as you stand. It’s as if they aren’t a part of your body as they take you to the heart of the ship, the halfway point between the cot and the cockpit.

Loki stands, still staring at you, and even in the dimness of the ship you can see that the intensity with which he looks at you hasn’t waned. He reaches you, standing a good foot away, and stops.

You try to calm the wild beating of your heart, rooted to the spot from his attentions, and you fidget. Your eyes are flighty in contrast, flitting from his face to his chest to the void outside the Quinjet and back again.

He lifts a single finger up to your face, tipping your chin upwards so your eyes meet. Heat begins to pool somewhere specific now, and you’re not sure what to do about it.

Obviously nothing, your brain screams in protest. It’s like your mind is swimming, your afterthoughts delayed and your actual thoughts heady, private wishes just bubbling at the surface.

“Your face is red,” Loki comments, his voice low and soft. Like the blanket he tucked you into. No, a part of you thinks, stop this right now—

He brushes his knuckles against your cheek, regarding you with great interest. “You’re burning up as well. Shall I take you to bed?”

Surely he doesn’t mean for his words to come out as much of an innuendo as they do, but that’s immediately where your mind goes: into the gutter.

“A-aren’t you tired?” you say instead, allowing Loki to steer you by the shoulders back to the pull-out. “I can definitely—”

“No, you need to rest,” he insists. As your butt hits the mattress, Loki’s expression shifts into a thoughtful one. “Although your suit seems to be an unfitting set of clothes, considering you’re quite hot. One moment.”

Loki disappears, walking to a hidden part of the ship and you take this time to fan yourself. It’s still unbelievably hot, and the way your folds are slippery without any stimulation (except, you think with a small smirk, Loki’s little pilot chair moment was visual stimulation enough) causes alarm bells to ring faintly in the distance of your mind.

You experimentally flex your lower muscles and—oh. Oh.

“Here,” Loki says as he saunters back into view. He tosses you a dark green shirt. “Wear that.”

You stare at the bundle of fabric in your lap and realize it’s his.

And just like that, a fire is lit within you.

You bring up the shirt to your face, inhaling his scent when he turns his back, and fucking hell does he smell good. Your mouth practically waters at it, your eyes trained on Loki’s back as he settles back into the pilot’s chair.

Unconsciously you bite your lip as you wonder what his skin might look like underneath his armor.

“Don’t turn around,” you say, fighting the urge to jump him right then and there that surges to the fore. You’re tempted. You really are. And you also want him not to listen to you and turn around, watch you undress and change into his shirt.

Again, what in the hell…?

You shimmy out of your clothes and pull Loki’s shirt over you. It’s Asgardian in design, likely tailored specifically for him. You wearing it just feels so intimate. The smell that’s so distinctly him envelops you and quite frankly, it’s intoxicating.

You stand, and the shirt falls just to your mid-thighs. He didn’t bother getting you any shorts; you’re not sure if you’re grateful or angry, or maybe a heady mix of both.

Bundling up your used clothes in your arms, you clear your throat. “Thank you.”

Loki swivels around, stuttering to a stop when he sees you. His eyes rake over you, from your messy bedhead down to your exposed legs. His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat quite visibly, and your pride rears its head in victory.

“No shorts, though?” you ask innocently, one eyebrow shooting up.

“Unnecessary,” he answers with a devious grin that makes your insides melt and ignite all at once.

He turns his attention back to the controls, and you lay your clothes by the side of the pull-out.

Wearing Loki’s shirt does little to cool your temperature—in fact, it’s still blistering despite the Quinjet’s air conditioning.

“Are you sure it isn’t hot?” you ask again. You know you’re asking unnecessary questions, but you want to get him talking, speaking to you in that gorgeous velvet full voice of his.

You hear him chuckle, a gush of heat rushing towards your center. “I’m afraid that’s all you, little one.”

Sighing, you flop onto the bed, pulling a pillow over your legs. Maybe if you take another nap, the heat will subside from your body.

Your arousal, on the other hand…

A thought enters your mind, fleetingly, because you immediately push it away and chastise yourself through the murky fog of your brain. Pleasuring yourself? In Loki’s presence? The absurdity of the idea. You should be feeling shame… only you don’t. Not really, at least.

You shift onto your side, squeezing your eyes tight. Sleep does not come to you. You try lying on your back, on your stomach, and then again—

“Are you alright back there?”

The normal tone Loki uses astounds you, seeing as you’re somehow a feverish, horny mess and he isn’t. It puzzles you, and some deep part of you wants to figure out why. Only your brain seems to refuse to cooperate unless you’re thinking of doing certain things.

Things you certainly don’t mind doing with Loki.

“I-it’s hot,” you explain, embarrassed defeat lacing your words. How many times have you said that to him? You probably sound like a broken record.

At this, Loki lets out a full peal of laughter, husky and with a sensual edge to it. You wish you could make him laugh, hear it one more time. Or twice. Or on loop. It doesn’t really matter.

He swivels again to face you, his sitting posture similar to the one earlier, and it does things to you. Causes an uproar that’s novel to you, a need rising within you that must be sated.

Loki makes a smooth come hither motion with his fingers, curling from his pinky to his index. A beckoning you can’t refuse. “Perhaps I can help. In case you’ve forgotten, I’m quite adept at magic. It may help the current predicament you face.”

You slide off the cot and walk barefooted to the copilot chair. He looks a little different, you realize as you amble towards him. Maybe it’s the allergies, but just as he sounds different, there’s something different about him now that you’re really looking. He’s always been a pretty face and you’ve always found him extraordinarily handsome, but right now is different. You just can’t put a finger on it, so you chalk it up to his aura changing. Or the allergies. Most likely it’s the allergies.

You’re about to sit in the copilot chair beside him, only to be stopped when Loki laughs again and wraps his fingers around your wrist. All you hear is a faint, “No, silly girl,” before he pulls you in between his legs.

Pulls you with surprising strength, it seems, because your butt lands almost unceremoniously in the crook of his groin and lap. Your knees are hooked over the opposite arm rest, which means if you shift even just the tiniest bit to the side, your hip will come in contact with a certain part of him.

It’s a dilemma, you think with a giggle, if you want to be caught in a hard place.

His arms snake around your waist, pulling you close to him, and it just registers that you’re sitting on his lap holy shit you’re sitting on his lap.

“Are you comfortable?” he murmurs, adjusting your position so he can rest his chin on your shoulder. Instantly your mouth goes dry; it’s the proximity. You’ve never been this close to him before, and being in such a… an intimate position has you tense and rigid on top of him.

“I think so?” you squeak, stilling further as Loki’s nose burrows into your hair. He parts the curtain of your hair with side to side movements, until he buries his face into your neck. He inhales, and a delicious shiver runs down your sides.

“Good,” he breathes.

You’re frozen on his lap, afraid to even let out the smallest puff of air. His face just stays there, in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply.

“Are… you okay?”

And then your heart stops, because he’s lifting his head, his fingers brushing your hair to the back and exposing your nape to the cool air. The next second he’s tracing the tip of his nose from your chin up to your earlobe, where he pauses. You’re acutely aware of his lips against your skin, just barely brushing against it. “Never been better.”

He inhales again, deeply, and another shiver runs down your spine. You were wrong to think he was unaffected; something’s changed between you as you slept, and you aren’t sure why or what it is.

“You smell…” He trails off, moving down and back to the spot behind your ear. You swear you feel the slightest whisper of a kiss there, and it takes extra effort to hold in the sigh that’s caught in your throat. “…different.”

“I have a smell?” It comes out with a halfhearted, short laugh; an attempt to ease the thick tension that hangs over you.

Loki only hums in response. This time, with the pressure on your neck and the puffs of his breathing against your skin, you’re sure Loki’s lips are on you. Not a kiss, nothing more—just a steady weight that anchors you in his lap.

Anchors you to the reality that you are in his lap.

“And you are so warm.” The way he says it, his mouth moving against your skin, it’s almost as if he’s talking to himself. His arms around your waist tighten, and your hip comes in contact with a little bulge.

Well, not very little, but…

“Y-yeah, I thought you were going to do something about that.”

“Hmm? Oh, yes.”

His hand rests on your exposed thigh, his thumb rubbing hypnotic circles into your skin. “Better?” he asks with his face still buried in the crook of your neck.

“I don’t think so.” Coherency becomes increasingly difficult to achieve; you’re too focused on the sizzle of electricity thrumming within your veins, spidering from where he touches you.

“How about…” His hand glides up your thighs, skimming over your underwear and underneath the baggy shirt until they come up to rest on your hip. “Now?”

You’re sure he kisses you this time, on that sensitive spot below your ear, and you bite your lip to stop yourself from making a sound.

“Still nothing,” you whisper, strained. “As hot as ever.”

There is no second guessing anymore: something wet and hot darts out behind your ear, and Loki’s lips press a firm, lingering kiss there as his hand skims to the center of your stomach. You suck in a shaky breath, your eyes slipping closed at the spark you feel.

“And now?” he questions, just by your ear. The conspiratorial tone and the volume he uses makes you clench in anticipation.

Instead of answering, you shift on his lap—purposefully grinding a little bit on his evident erection. You hear Loki’s breathing change just slightly, his fingers curling on your stomach.

You think he’s about to do something to break the sexual tension and turn it into something tangible, something you both can actually do to ease the ache you’re sure you both feel, but you know the God of Mischief enjoys his games. He enjoys acting unaffected when in fact he is, and you intend to play that to your advantage. Somehow.

“I’m not sure I’m feeling anything,” you say as nonchalant as possible. A plan quickly brews in your mind, and you pretend to notice something on the dashboard. You wriggle in Loki’s lap, making sure to rub him in all the right places as you tell him you swear you saw something whiz past.

The way Loki tenses underneath you brings you a small bout of satisfaction.

“Perhaps,” he starts, his voice clearly strained as you begin to rotate your hips ever so lightly against him, “perhaps a nap is what you need.”

“But Loki,” you say, exaggerated and almost whiny as you lean back against his lean chest, feeling the full extent of his arousal against your lower back, “who’s going to see if the asteroid comes back?”

You yelp as Loki stands, one arm hooked under your knees and the other around your waist. He’s carrying you, the thought floating through your muddled brain.

“Stark will handle it. Like you said. Trust him and his technology, or something like that,” he says, voice a little rough. “It’s bed for you.”

Loki lays you down with surprising gentleness, smoothing the covers around you. You think you might be able to sleep a little now that a little pent up energy has been released, but you only become shell-shocked when Loki climbs into the cot beside you.

It’s not a very large bed, mind you, which means that you’re trapped between his body and the wall of the ship. There isn’t much room to lay on your back when Loki’s in it with you, so you settle on your side while he does the same.

Loki pulls your back to his chest, completely flush against his body. “Relax,” he murmurs. “Try to sleep.”

Yeah, as if you can with something very hard poking into your backside.

For the record, you do try to sleep. You let your eyes drift closed with Loki’s arm draped over you, but even when you reach that half asleep state you’re focused on his erection behind you and his arm slowly making its way under your shirt again.

And somehow, whether it’s of your own doing or your body on autopilot, your hand slowly makes its way behind, reaching between you and placing it flat against his erection.

It’s like time stops. There’s nothing but static in your brain, the only sound the ever-present hum of the ship. As if neither of you dare to breathe. Loki’s fingers rest on your hipbone, where the garter of your underwear rests.

Neither of you move. You stay like this, for how long you don’t know, until Loki exhales a little, pressing his length against your palm.

“Can’t sleep,” you whisper, shifting to ease the budding strain in your arm. “Still hot.”

“So am I,” Loki replies softly.

You don’t think you can tense up further, but your body surprises you. “Maybe…” You don’t know why you’re allowing your question to form and where you’re getting the boldness to ask. “Maybe you should take something off.”

He’s quiet for a moment, and you don’t turn around to face him. The sound of the sheets rustling and the mattress shifting is enough to tell you that he got up. Cold dread begins to replace the delicious fire that was coursing through your veins—have you scared him away? Offended him?

The mattress dips again, and Loki’s pulling you against him, in the same spooning position you were in earlier. Only… only he’s shirtless, you realize when your back hits his chest.

Shit, you really want to turn around and take a good look at his gloriously naked chest first.

You’re not sure your heart can take any more when Loki slowly guides your hand back to the evidence of his arousal. Once he places your palm on his erection, his hand is sliding over your skin underneath what you’re wearing, resting just underneath the swell of your breast.

“You know, mortal, you are very pretty,” he admits quietly, his finger dashing against your skin. “And your company is… tolerable.”

“Yeah, you’re not too bad yourself, Reindeer Games.” It comes out rushed, breathy, and a small moan of pain (or is it?) punctuates the end of your sentence as he drags a nail over your skin.

“Do not call me that. Or I will have to punish you.”

When did you decide to court danger?

“Are you threatening me with a good time?”

“Perhaps I am threatening you with the absence of one.”

Fast as lightning, Loki removes his touch from you. “You are still feverish. Perhaps you should take off your shirt.”

“You mean your shirt.” Your heart thumps loudly against your ribcage, your hands now toying with the hem of the fabric. The tone between you two has shifted so drastically, the tension so thick it’s almost suffocating. You sit up, twisting to see Loki lying on his side, his eyes dark and half-lidded.

You maintain eye contact as you grip the end of the shirt, slowly pulling it as it exposes, bit by bit, the upper half of your thighs, your underwear, your stomach, your breasts, until you pull it over your head and toss it to the side. Loki stares at you all the while, a hungry look in his eye, but does nothing.

“Lie back down,” he commands, running a finger over your bare side. “Perhaps now you will be able to cool off.”

He twirls the ends of your hair around his fingers as you do as he says, the warmth of your center now the focus of your attention as it thrums.

Loki props you against him, on your side again, his fingers dancing across your midriff, moving up until he’s tracing the tops of your breasts and ghosting over your nipples.

Your back arches almost unconsciously, pressing into him where he meets you with equal pressure.

Experimentally you gyrate over his erection, making sure to keep your movements slow and agonizing. His hands skim over your breasts until he takes one in his hand, rolling your nipple between his fingers until they pebble.

His head falls onto your shoulder as you keep with your tantalizing dance over his hips, his breathing growing ragged. He tweaks and pulls at your nipples, squeezing and palming your breasts until it’s the only thing that clouds your mind.

“Are you—are you still warm?” he asks, evidently trying and failing to keep his composure as you buck your ass against him particularly hard.

“You tell me.”

He flicks over your breast in response, your head falling back with a barely held back moan.

“Maybe you should take off your pants,” you suggest with a sigh.

“Maybe I should take off yours.”

“I’m not wearing any, remember?”

Loki stills, which makes you do the same. He shifts, gently guiding you to lie on your back. The confusion must be clear as day on your face, because Loki stares at you with those intense green eyes of his as he climbs on top of you.

Your faces are level, his eyes scanning every inch. You’re not sure where this is coming from; one minute he’s all over your breasts and the next he’s quiet and on top of you. He buries his face in your neck for what feels like the millionth time today, setting off a reaction that sends another wave of want to your core.

This time he sucks on your neck, and you gasp. Your hands move to bury into his hair, but Loki pins your arms to the sides by your wrists. You writhe underneath him as he marks you with tongue and teeth.

He peppers kisses around your neck, your throat, your collarbone as he grinds into you. Letting out a small groan, he moves to hover over your lips.

“Tell me to kiss you,” he whispers hoarsely. “Do it. Now.”

The grip on your wrists has slackened and you take the opportunity to pull Loki’s face to yours. Hungry and passionate is what the kiss is: his mouth moves quickly, in sync with yours, as though to make sure every bit of this is real and not just a fever dream. You savor it, the taste of him, leaving you dizzy and delirious with every swipe of his tongue and graze of his teeth against your lips. It’s almost rough, the way he kisses you, but it fits the urgency you feel. You don’t want to have it any other way.

He travels down until he’s suckling at your breasts, and you do everything in your power to hold in the moan that rises in your throat. All you can feel is heat and slick and the pulsing of your blood, overcome with the need to be filled to the brim by him.

You’re about to fumble with his pants when he trails a path of kisses down your torso, stopping when he reaches between your legs.

You’re practically trembling with anticipation now. Seeing Loki in between your legs, a wicked grin on his face, has you wetter than you’ve ever gotten in life. He spreads you apart, settling between them, and feathers kisses over your inner thighs.

“Loki,” you say through gritted teeth, your pussy clenching as he nears your sweet center. “Stop teasing.”

He shifts forward, kissing your hips, your stomach jumping underneath him. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he bares his teeth, scraping over your skin and biting down on the fabric of your underwear.

He slides one side down, his mouth dragging over your thigh, your underwear between his teeth; he does the same to the other side, and again he goes. All the way, pulling your underwear down with his teeth until they’re around your ankles. He discards it lazily, adding it to the growing pile of clothes, and at this point you’re nothing but a whimpering mess.

“So this is the source of your sweet smell,” he mutters as he lowers his head between your legs. You’re shaking lightly, wound tight from the excitement, and when Loki inhales the scent of you, long and drawn out, you almost want to cum right there and then.

“Absolutely divine,” he comments. Then he’s placing his tongue flat against you, your head falling back against the pillow, unable to hold in the moan that spills from your lips.

It’s like an explosion of little lights, you think distantly. Little stars bursting from one touch.

He lifts his head from your cunt with a mischievous grin. “I like that sound, little one. Let’s see how many times I can make you do it again.”

The feeling of Loki’s head between your legs, his mouth inside you, is incomparable. He dives into your cavern, his dexterous tongue causing you to sigh praises that seem to only spur him on. It’s a steady, swirling motion that drives you insane, your pelvis arching.

Then he’s moving up to swipe over your clit, and every nerve ending in your body sizzles and frays, another loud moan of his name ripped from your throat. With a grip of steel, he holds your thighs down, parted wide, as he assaults your clit with sucks and nibbles and licks.

“Loki,” you pant, hips bucking against his mouth. Your insides begin to coil in preparation, your walls clenching around Loki’s tongue. “Loki, I—”

He hums, almost like he’s questioning you, and the vibration on your sensitive parts is enough to send you over the edge.

The orgasm that overtakes you is powerful, pulsing through every part of your body as you whisper his name like a prayer. Only Loki doesn’t stop—he licks up every drop that leaks from you, and it’s enough stimulation for another powerful orgasm to build.

His lips latch onto your clit, sucking rhythmically, as his tongue swipes and swirls around the bundle of nerves.

“Loki,” you try to say, only it comes out a breathy whine, “I want to go down on you too—ah—”

He plunges a finger deep within you, curling against your G-spot in time with his sucks.

“Fucking hell, Loki,” you grind out, your fingernails digging into his scalp as you rotate your hips on his face. You can feel the steady climb to another precipice of an orgasm, as well as the tiny smirk that plays on Loki’s face against you.

Your grip tightens on his hair as he speeds up his movements; rapid, quick swipes on your clit, his fingers pumping in and out of you shallowly. Your walls begin to clench at the splinters of release—

“Not yet,” he says, removing his lips and fingers from you with a dark grin.

Frustration wells up within you, but it’s shadowed by the undeniable thrill that shoots towards your center. If you’re understanding Loki right—which you do most of the time—he isn’t finished with you just yet.

He crawls on top of you like a prowling animal, the pure lust in his eyes mirroring what you feel. He captures your lips in a kiss, languid and seductive, his hands cradling your face.

The juxtaposition of the entire situation hits you like a freight train. He’s gentle when he’s holding you like this, like you’re made of glass, but the urgency with which he grinds into your naked mound detonates another explosion of emotions. One action is delicate, the other rough. Contrast bolting through you at the same time and colliding into one as pleasure.

“You’re amazing,” you sigh into his mouth, and you can feel Loki suck in a breath, pausing at your words. Spotting your chance, you roll on top of him, straddling his waist with a smirk.

Loki’s eyes open, a ghost of bewilderment etched onto his face at the sudden shift, and then when he sees your expression he transforms his own into his usual confident half-grin. As though he’s merely amused by this whole situation—but he isn’t fooling you.

“I didn’t think you had it in you, little one,” he drawls, sliding his hands up your sides.

You grab his forearms, pushing them down to his sides as you rock against the clothed tent in his pants. Loki could easily overpower you, you know that, free his arms from your not so vicelike grip, but he lets you. Lets you pin his arms to his sides just as he did to you.

Lowering your head, you run your nose along the expanse of his chest, up to his neck where it’s your turn to inhale deeply. He smells just like the shirt you were wearing, only ten times more potent, and it sends a fresh wave of heady arousal to wash over you.

“Not yet,” you echo his words from earlier, your grip tightening on his wrists as you grind down into him. You can feel Loki about to respond with a snarky remark, so you silence him by suctioning your lips on his neck. Your one track mind has only one goal: mark him with bruises that are of your doing. Claim him as yours.

You lift off him with a little pop; not a very sexy sound, but Loki seems to enjoy it with the way his hips seem to be moving of their own accord. You kiss across his throat before suctioning again on another spot right below his jaw.

This time, you play a little rough.

Loki’s hips jerk upwards as your teeth rake over his skin, his breath fanning over your hair. “Little minx,” he utters, groaning a second later as you push your center against him with a harder bite to his neck.

“Pants off, Loki,” you whisper.

He frees one arm from your grip and haphazardly waves his hand, and your swollen sex comes in contact with the flesh of his hard and heavy cock.

Just as Loki’s about to jerk up and into you, you lift your hips off of him. It kills you to do it, but the teasing, the foreplay, causes you to feel a smidge of power.

“I said, not yet,” you say, sliding down his body until your face is level with his cock.

His length throbs in front of you, and somehow, somewhere in the deep recesses of your mind you think you’ve never seen a cock as beautiful as his. Curious, you lick a stripe down the underside of it, from the base up to the tip.

Loki masks his hiss, turning it into a cheeky exhale, folding an arm under his head. “Go on then. Impress me.”

Whatever intimidation game he’s trying to play, feigning nonchalance, it’s not going to work on you. You take a moment to examine the bead of precum that leaks from his slit, your fingers at the base of his erection, and drag the tip of your tongue over it before sliding your lips over the blunt head.

You don’t bob up and down; unmoving, merely suckling and swirling your tongue around the head of his cock. His hands fist into your hair as your hand and mouth begin to pump up and down his shaft, and just like that promises and praise fall from his lips like wine.

You chance a glance at him, and are utterly pleased by the sight. Loki’s eyes are scrunched shut, barely containing his pleasure, breathing hard through his nose. To have him, a god, reduced to his most carnal needs at your ministrations fills you with gratification. You take him further into your mouth until you can feel him pulsing with almost release, and then you lift off him with a sly grin.

“Not yet,” you repeat in almost a teasing, singsong kind of way.

Loki glares at you, but it’s hardly threatening. You manage to laugh as you level your faces, kissing him hot on the mouth and guiding your slick entrance to his throbbing cock.

You hover over him, not fully seated, his cock just stretching you the slightest bit. Your self-restraint cracks with every passing second you remain unmoving, until Loki takes your hips in his hands and brings you down on top of him, seating you on top of him.

He stretches you in a way you can only describe as full. You lean forward, planting your hands on his lean chest, and rock against him, eyes closing at the feeling.

It’s nothing you could ever conjure up in your wild dreams—he fills you, grinding in time with you and sending you into a barely controlled frenzy. But you keep your movements slow, relishing the way you can feel him throb inside you. Everything feels so new, a first you’ve never experienced: each touch, movement, kiss, no matter how small seems to be amplified in the small ship. It fills you with an unfamiliar, delicious kind of fire, boiling inside you.

“Not—not bad,” Loki grunts, unable to maintain the once casual tone he used before. “For a mortal.”

You swivel your hips and rake your nails over his chest, and Loki’s mouth parts lightly. “Not bad,” you remark, squeezing your muscles around him, “Reindeer Games.”

It’s Loki’s turn to seize his opportunity, it seems, because his eyes fly open, a wild, hungry look to him as he flips you underneath him, his cock still buried in you. The shift in position drives you a little mad, your pussy clenching unconsciously around him.

“What did I say,” he asks dangerously, plowing in and out of you with slow, agonizing strokes, “about calling me that?”

“You’d punish me.” A delicious shiver runs down your spine as the words come out.

“Wonderful that you remember. Because you’re about to forget everything except my name.”

And with that promise, Loki brings your wrists over your head, pinning them above you with a firm grip, his mouth seeking yours as he begins to rut into you more senselessly now. He swallows the moan you make when the tip of his cock hits a particularly sensitive spot inside you, making sure to angle it right where you’re most sensitive.

He doesn’t cease his movements when he latches onto your breast, roughly biting and sucking until you’re whimpering soft cries and pleas and praises. His other hand caresses the curve of your hip and ass before he presses on your clit.

If you were seeing stars earlier, right now you’re seeing entire galaxies explode behind your eyes. The sensations are overwhelming, your legs spread wide open, and just when you think you’ve felt it all, Loki takes you by surprise and pulls you both into a kneeling position. He bounces you on his cock with unrelenting speed, and your arms find their way around his shoulders as you approach orgasm yet again.

You subconsciously flex your walls around him, biting down on his shoulder to prepare you for an orgasm—only Loki slows to a stop, gently laying you back down on your back.

The release that built inside you ebbs away, and you clench around Loki, a silent signal for him to continue. Only Loki pulls himself out of you, resting atop you with his face buried in your neck, suckling another bruise into your skin.

“Loki,” you breathe, his hand cupping your breast, “Loki, please.”

The god has the nerve to smile against you, you feel it. “What did you say to me earlier?”

“You said it to me first, in case you’ve forgotten.”

Loki lifts his head, his eyes boring into yours, blown with desire and yet… something has shifted. Something else is there.

“You are extraordinary,” he tells you, brushing hair away from your forehead. “You have always been the object of my attention, ever since you walked into the board room on your first day.”

Your throat closes with the genuine admission, and you swallow the lump in your throat. “Yeah, well, I always thought you were pretty neat. Maybe we can talk later and finish what we started?”

Loki chuckles, his eyes crinkling, and presses a kiss to your lips. “Smart woman.”

It’s almost as if the tender moment doesn’t happen at all, because Loki’s arms snake underneath you to bring your hips closer to his, plunging into you and reaching a deeper spot that makes both of you groan in earnest. Whatever just happened, you can probably mark it for later with a good sit-down conversation. Right now your focus is on his cock inside you, and you don’t hesitate to tell him how good he’s making you feel.

“Hands above your head,” he commands.

You oblige, and his head immediately dips to your breasts. He’s kissing, licking everywhere he can reach, while your hands tangle in his hair, his shoulders, his muscled back. Your back arches, his cock thrusting mercilessly into you, burying himself to the hilt and brushing against that sweet, sweet spot over and over.

You don’t know how you’re ever going to come back from this. Loki buried within you, your cunt stretching to accommodate him, perfectly slotting into each other. His fingers rub against your clit, adding to your already overloaded senses and fuck, it’s as if all the effects from the foreplay and your heat come crashing down in one big tidal wave.

The speed at which Loki’s pounding into you is almost ungodly, unreal. Your mouth hangs open, your orgasm building with extraordinary intensity—

Almost as quickly as it builds, you’re tipped over the edge, a broken wail of his name accompanying the spasms in your lower body. You’ve never had an orgasm as shattering as this one, your cunt fluttering around Loki even as you slowly come down from your high.

“That’s it,” Loki says, jaw set. “Very good, little one.”

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even slow down—he continues to wreck you, the sounds of your coupling obscenely filling the air. You want him to feel the seismic pleasure you just did—so you clamp around him, rotate your hips in little circles in time with his thrusts.

“You’re absolutely amazing,” you tell him, watching how he slowly unravels with every new praise. You tell him how good he makes you feel, how good he is, perfect and incredible and oh, the things you would do to—

Loki bends down and kisses you ferociously, licking every part of your mouth and biting on your lips as he bucks, going rock hard and cumming inside you. His movements slow, just a fraction, as you let him ride out his high.

“Glorious woman,” he mutters, his eyes still closed as he kisses over every inch of your face.

You’re about to return with a compliment of your own, but are cut off when Loki grinds into you again.

“A-are you still hard?” you ask, a giggle rising to your throat whose tail end turns into another moan.

“I’ve lost count how many times I’ve made you make that wonderful sound,” he says, hips stirring back to life as you feel a fresh bout of slick moisture gush down your legs. “I think that’s quite a success.”

And then he’s flipping you over, on your stomach, pulling your ass up and sliding his still-hard cock back into your dripping folds, reaching depths you didn’t even know you had, evidently ready for another round.

Through your half-lidded eyes, you make out the faint outline of stars—whether they’re from the pleasure you feel or actually there, you don’t know.

-- -- --

You’d think overstimulation would best you, but your entire afternoon—evening, morning, you can’t really tell, space is just completely dark—has been you and Loki all over each other all over the ship.

You can’t tell how long it’s been, but you can feel the ship beginning to descend into Earth’s atmosphere.

“Hey. Hey, Loki—ah, yes, there—”

You’ve also lost track of how many orgasms you’ve had.

You writhe underneath him, searing hot ecstasy blistering in your core as Loki sucks on your clit, his teeth just lightly scraping over it, his fingers smoothing over your inner thighs.

“You taste so sweet, little one,” he murmurs against you, licking through your folds.

“Don’t distract me.” You swat at his head weakly. “I think we’re here.”

“Haven’t touched the ground,” he says, shrugging, making to dive back into your well-spent cunt.

You stop him before he can seduce you into letting him taste you again, and again, as he’d been doing all day.

Whatever warmth you were feeling earlier has completely subsided from your body, and even your mind feels clearer. As soon as you came down from whatever it was, all that was left was a blissful afterglow that you still feel until now.

Surprisingly, you and Loki haven’t had any awkward, dead air—granted, he has been buried in your thighs and yours in his most of the trip. You thought maybe as soon as the strange fever subsided, you’d both be back to whatever it was before this, but apparently not. It seems to have opened up a door, an opportunity, one you both mutually want to walk through together.

“We still have time,” Loki purrs, caressing your folds with his thumbs.

“You’re insatiable,” you sigh, and Loki takes this as a sign to delve back into your warmth, his tongue gliding into you for the umpteenth time today.

“You love it.”

 --

You and Loki disembark the Quinjet, you with shaky legs and him with a sort of spring in his step. You’re not sure what to tell the others when you see them, a tinge of worry sneaking into your bubble of sexual satisfaction.

As soon as you walk into the board room, you’re met with the expectant eyes of the Avengers, studying the pair of you with varying expressions.

And then Loki’s sliding his arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him, and the room erupts into shouts of “Called it!” and “No!” and you can’t help but laugh at the raucousness of it all.

“I’m glad we couldn’t take the Bifrost coming back here,” you tell Loki quietly.

“As am I,” he whispers back.

“Yeah, about that,” Stark cuts in, stepping forward, “yeah… you totally could have used it.”

[itskateak]

Mint Ice Cream & Bubblegum Kisses - Chapter Six

(Bucky Barnes x Single Dad!Reader)

Chapter Summary: Bucky offers to help Y/N take Peter Parker and Angelica out for the day since they've been causing chaos and getting into trouble. The hiking trail behind the compound seems like the perfect place.

Word Count: 3.8K

Warnings: Some Language (Sam and Bucky were military men shh), Sam Wilson being a great friend and actual character instead of a 2D support, Anxiety attack, Mentions of time-correct homophobia, Fluff, Sam and Bucky being Bros, Sam Wilson being an Ally

A/N: For those who don't know, my best friend is in the hospital and I had to take a break from being online and writing for a bit. He's doing great right now and is getting much better :) - also, I know I have a thing for Bucky and that log crossing a river. Okay just let it happen. It's cute. 

And as a final side note, I really hope I’m putting more character into Sam Wilson. I wanted to expand on Bucky and Sam’s friendship more in this chapter and to build Sam as an actual character. I’ve read countless stories where he’s just a prop to get Bucky and the reader together or to just be Best Friend to Bucky and go along with anything. Sam Wilson is his own person and I really, really hope that he’s got some life in him in this one. Feedback on that would be nice if anyone wants to give it :)

Taglist is open! PM me, send an ask, or @ me on a chapter to let me know you’d like to be tagged! Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you, but I will send you a message with a link to the new chapter when I update. :)

Masterlist

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Y/N checked his messages quickly, head tilted as he waited for it to update. Over weekends, he decided to work three hours each day to make sure nothing important and time-sensitive came in. He was close to the end of those three hours, which wasn't eventful at any point. Just low-level information relating to other movements that he'd already taken note of earlier that week.

He watched the few messages come in and glanced over them. Nothing seemed to be important other than Gamora saying that they would be stopping by to drop off Peter Quill for a recovery period. Something about an injury he gained through his own stupidity. He responded with a confirmation and said that Monday afternoon would be best since the landing strip would be clear.

"Do you have a minute?" Bucky called from the doorway. He smiled, but it looked a little forced. His posture was closed off and he looked physically tense.

"Always. What's up?" Y/N pushed away from his desk and closed the programs on his screen since he didn't need them anymore.

"Uh...I'm kind of...having an anxiety attack or something." Bucky said though it sounded more like he was questioning himself. He ducked his head sheepishly for a moment. "And Steve and Sam are not here and I dunno what to do."

"Oh. Okay." Y/N was taken by surprise for a moment. "Uh, come on in. Let's see if we can calm you down."

Bucky nodded and sat rigidly on the edge of the couch, his arms wrapping around his stomach. His fingers bunched up the fabric of his shirt and he gasped suddenly. He cracked a slight smile and snorted. "Didn't realize I was holding my breath."

"Breathing's important, Bucky. Do you know what set this off?" Y/N asked, pulling his chair up to the side of his desk and giving his full attention to Bucky.

"Loud noise. Not even sure what it was. It took me off-guard and...then I fell off the obstacle course." Bucky grimaced and took a deep breath, his eyes closing for a moment. "I...have a fear of fallin'. Ever since I fell off the train."

"Is it the height or the feeling of falling itself?" 

"The feel. I hate it." Bucky wrinkled his nose up in disgust. "I can still remember the feeling of my stomach in my throat."

"Hey, don't think about that. No need to get yourself even more worked up." Y/N paused, trying to find a random question to distract him with for a little bit. Maybe taking his mind off the things causing him anxiety would help calm him down. "Tell me about something Steve did in school. Did he ever get into big trouble?"

"Oh, yeah. This one time - it was like sixth grade, I think - he nearly got us suspended for a week. Johnny Sarsburg, a boy in our class who picked on Stevie for being short, was this tall and burly kid. Real jerk of a guy." Bucky moved his arms and laced his hands together. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. "One day, Steve got fed up with all the nicknames. Shorty Stevie, Munchkin Man...they went on and on. So, Stevie stood up to him. Thank God I was there, though."

"Don't tell me he tried to kick this kid's ass." 

"He tried to kick the kid's ass." Bucky nodded with a tone full of disappointed frustration.

"Oh, no." Y/N snickered behind his hand. 

"So, it was recess and Johnny came up to us. Stevie tried to hide behind me for a second, but I shoved him away. Johnny started picking at him and picking at him. Steve straightened up and clenched his fists, looked Johnny in the eye, and said: I may be short, but I'll always be a bigger man than you." Bucky laughed, breaking out into a smile for the first time. He ran a hand through his hair. 

"He didn't!" Y/N could see Steve Rogers, the man who had no regard for his own personal safety and hated bullies, doing something so ridiculous but just so...Steve.

"He did! Johnny didn't like that so much, so he cocked back his fist and came at Steve. Stevie tried to fight back, but he really wasn't a fighter back then. Just looking at a running track could make him break into an asthma attack and thinking about lifting a book could've snapped his spine."

Y/N snickered, shaking his head. Bucky was looking far more relaxed than he did when he came in. His shoulders weren't rigid and he wasn't gasping for breath. Though, it looked like his hands were slightly trembling still. "So, how'd it turn out?"

"At some point, I grabbed Steve around the waist and tried to haul him away. But Johnny didn't like that either, so he went after me. Now, I was a bit of a troublemaker so I knew how to fight. I wasn't lookin' to get into trouble, but Stevie had dragged me into a mess. Had to clean it up, like I do now." Bucky winked and chuckled. "The teachers had to come break it up and we had to explain what happened. Johnny was suspended for a week and our parents said they'd punish us at home, so we got off easy." 

"Even at home?"

"Oh, no. My dad was pissed and Stevie's mother almost hung him out with the laundry. But at least we weren't suspended like Johnny was." He leaned back against the couch and sighed. "Did you just distract me?"

"Maaaaybe. How're you feeling?" Y/N laughed and checked the clock. His time was up which meant the rest of the day was his to do whatever he wanted.

"Better. Not like I'm choking on my own air, at least. I'm still wired, though." Bucky held his right hand up to show how it was still shaking a bit.

"Wanda told me about a hiking trail behind the compound. We could go check that out and get Peter and Angelica outside for a bit. If you're up for that, of course." Y/N offered. He secretly hoped Bucky would take him up on the offer. He wanted the chance to talk to him more when they were both completely sober.

"That sounds...great, actually. Besides, I don't think you could wrangle both of them on your own." He said with a teasing lilt and stood. "I'll find Peter and meet you downstairs."

"I need to shut my computers down first." Y/N pushed his chair back and moved his mouse to wake his monitors. "If you find my kid before I do, send her my way."

"Roger that."

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Peter was walking a few feet ahead with Angelica on his back, bouncing her every so often to make her squeal and laugh. There was a light breeze rustling through the branches of the trees, which were providing the right amount of shade from the late autumn sun. The weather was that perfect balance of warm and cool. Just right for a light jacket. The trail wasn't well used, evidence provided by the undergrowth creeping along the edges of the path, threatening to overtake it. 

Y/N and Bucky were casually talking as they followed the kids. The conversation flowed easily between them like they'd been friends for years. 

"So, she's how old, again?" Bucky asked, hitching his chin toward Angelica.

"Eight. Nine next Wednesday." Y/N smiled wistfully, watching his daughter shoot a bright smile at him over her shoulder. He'd been so afraid that this move would've negatively affected her and caused her to be miserable. But she had never looked happier or carefree. She'd always been a solemn little girl with many worries on her shoulders.

"She's growin' fast, huh?" Bucky smiled, too, shaking his head as another loud squeal floated back to them.

"Too fast. She's always gonna be my little girl, though." Y/N glanced up as a couple of birds flitted from one tree to the next. "I'm glad she's happy here and finding her place. She doesn't say it, but I know she feels like an outsider sometimes."

"Why's that?" Bucky asked, sinking his hands into his pockets.

"I know she feels out of place among friends a lot. The fact her mother isn't around and she doesn't have a second parent...some kids can be really mean about that." He sighed. "And it's not like that's her fault. But she feels that way and I don't know how to help her."

"Why would she think it's her fault?" Bucky stepped closer as if he knew the topic needed to be kept quieter to not disturb the girl a few feet ahead.

"I don't know where she got the idea, honestly. Her mother did leave a note when she left and part of the reason she left...well, Angelica wasn't exactly planned." Y/N muttered the last part to make sure it didn't reach his kid. He loved her, he really did. At first, he'd been terrified at the prospect of being a father when he wasn't ready. But the moment he held that little girl in his arms, he was smitten. "And her mother said some...nasty things in the letter about her."

"I can't imagine how that would've been for you." Bucky gave a sympathetic grimace. "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

"No, it's okay. I don't talk about it much because it's in the past and we're doing great without that woman." He shrugged and smiled. "I kept the letter, though, as precautionary measures in case she ever decides to come back and fight for custody. I doubt that would happen, really, but the court system is so messed up and might not rule in favor of me despite the fact I've raised her."

"If a court of law can see how much you love that kid and how much she loves you and is happy with you and still not let her stay with you, then I might have to return to my vigilante days." Bucky joked, though he sounded and looked serious.

"Bucky, no."

"I'd do it."

"I know, but no." Y/N laughed and shook his head. "Thanks for the offer, but I think an appeal would work better."

"Okay, you have a point," Bucky said. "So, I've never asked but what got you on the team? Steve didn't tell me and Stark won't because he's still mad about game night five months ago."

"I caught four embezzlers in the compound by hacking into the hidden servers that keep backups of pretty much everything, even if it's been wiped from the main servers. I would've gotten away with it if I hadn't tripped the single silent alarm monitored by FRIDAY. Tony promoted me shortly after I handed the information over to Grace Stevens in accounting." Y/N explained with a smile. "I thought I was fired or being thrown in jail. Those were the most terrifying few minutes of my life."

Bucky whistled. "That's impressive. Even Nat couldn't get through Stark's security lines to retrieve deleted footage of him drunkenly singing karaoke in his lab."

"I might have to go digging for that to earn a favor from Nat." Y/N took his phone out and made a reminder, causing Bucky to start laughing. His eyes crinkled up at the corners with his bright smile. "Oh, Pete, be careful! That might be slippery!"

Peter was halfway across the large fallen tree trunk over the moderately moving river. He turned his head to listen to Y/N and nodded, shifting his grip on Angelica. He moved slower then, watching his footing to make sure they didn't fall.

"So, we're gonna cross that?" Bucky asked, eyeing the log warily. Falling. He hates falling. That's right, Y/N thought. Of course, he'd be uncomfortable with something like this because he might fall.

"I guess. Wanda said there's lakeside access across the river and down the path." Y/N stopped at the tree, watching to make sure the kids made it across safely. He trusted Peter, considering the kid was a literal superhero and gymnast, but he was also a dad and his Dad Instincts were kicking in. "You gonna be okay with crossing?"

"If I don't fall, I will," Bucky forced a smile, but Y/N could see the anxiety behind it. 

"Here, take my hand. We'll cross together and we'll go slow. I'll make sure you won't fall." Y/N held his hand out to Bucky and tried his best to ignore the small jolt of electricity that shot through his veins when Bucky accepted it. "Come on."

"If I fall, I'm dragging you with me," Bucky said with a joking tone, but there was a shake to his voice as he stepped onto the log after the man holding his hand.

"Valid." Y/N snorted before focusing on where he was putting his feet. He couldn't slip and risk giving Bucky a heart attack. He was trusting him to get him across this river safely. "If you need to stop at any point, just tell me and we can."

"Nope. Just keep moving even if I start to freeze up because if I stop, I won't move again." Bucky was able to flash a quick lopsided smile even though he was doing something that ultimately terrified him. 

"You got this, Bucky!" Angelica shouted from the other side, bouncing on her feet like a highly-caffeinated bouncy ball. "You're almost there!"

Y/N grinned to himself. Leave it to his kid to become a cheerleader for them without even knowing that Bucky really needed that encouragement. He swore his daughter had supernatural abilities of knowing what someone needed when they needed it. When she was much younger, there had been nights where he was stressed about making ends meet and she would crawl into his lap and hug him tightly until he forgot what was bothering him.

Lost in thought for just the brief moment spelled ruin for him. His foot slipped on a wet spot and he lost his balance.

Bucky grabbed his arm and pulled him back, keeping him steady until he regained his footing. He chuckled. "Jeez, Y/N. I thought you'd be saving me from falling and not the other way around."

"You're lucky I'm nice 'cause I would've just shoved you off this log and let you wash down the river." Y/N retorted though he couldn't keep his expression stern and a smile broke out. "So, that spot's slippery. Be careful."

"Oh, I was just planning to plant my foot on it and run the rest of the way." Bucky teased, appearing way more at ease than Y/N expected he would. Maybe that's what happens when someone has to save their non-fearful friend from falling.

Once they were on the other side and on solid ground, there was a pause of silence between everyone before they all burst into laughter.

"Mr. Barnes, your face when Mr. L/N slipped! You were so surprised!" Peter bent over, trying to catch his breath. 

"Y/N, I thought you were a goner for a moment. And if I hadn't already had a hand on you, I probably would've just let you fall." Bucky was barely able to speak through his laughter, smile so wide his eyes were crinkled up. 

"Oh, I see how it is!" Y/N acted offended. "See if I ever team with you on game nights again."

"Ooh, he's serious." Angelica giggled, wiping tears from her eyes. 

"I'm sorry, Y/N but I was not risking falling just to save you if I hadn't already had your hand." Bucky took deep breaths, also wiping his face with his jacket sleeve. 

"What happened to till the end of the line?" Peter asked, taking deep breaths. 

"That's a me and Steve thing. And even then, I'd just let his dumbass fall." Bucky winced. "Sorry, language."

Angelica grinned broadly with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Oh, don't worry. Papa swears a lot more than you might think. He thinks I don't hear  him mutter things under his breath, but I do."

"You little snitch!" Y/N exclaimed. "I can't believe you!"

"Oh no...Angelica, we gotta go!" Peter scooped Angelica up and dashed down the trail. Y/N started to give chase but slowed down as they turned the bend. 

Bucky followed at a slower pace, shaking his head in amusement. He caught up to the father who was straightening his jacket. "You're not going after them?"

"Nah. I just made them think there was an actual threat. They'll probably get all the way to the lake before they realize I'm not actually chasing them." Y/N grinned. "So, want to tell me about that game night five months ago?"

"It started when Nat brought vodka back from a mission in Russia and decided not to tell us it was hundred-proof..."

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"Hey, Buck. How's your day?" Sam asked as he entered the training room with a towel around his neck and a water bottle in hand. "Sorry that Steve and I dipped on you."

"Don't worry about it. It's alright," Bucky grunted before setting down the set of weights he'd been lifting. "My day was pretty good. Except when Stark accidentally set off an explosion in the lab while I was running the obstacle course. Scared the hell out of me and then I fell off."

"Shit, man. You okay?" Sam placed his water bottle and towel on a bench near Bucky. "I know you don't like falling and loud noises so that just seems brutal."

"My adrenaline kept it low but I still started to freak out after I cleaned up." He admitted before taking a drink of his own water and using his shirt to wipe some of the sweat from his forehead. "Y/N helped me out with that."

"You went to Y/N? Why not Bruce or Wanda? Hell, even Nat?" Sam arched his brow and there was a hint of something behind his eyes.

"Dunno. He's nice, ya know? I figured he'd have some experience with that kind of stuff. Having a kid would teach you how to calm someone down when they're freaking out and I've seen him chill Angelica out faster than she could even process why she was upset." Bucky said, sitting down on a bench to give himself a break. He'd been in the training room for an hour already and it was about time to take a breather. "After that, we took Angelica and Pete out on that hiking trail Wanda found just to get them outside since they were causing trouble and everyone needed a break."

"Hey, as long as you found a way to calm down and not have a panic attack, I won't knock it. Happy for you, man. You're doing really good recently." Sam started to set up the machine he liked to use. Can't have a tree without the trunk, you know what I'm saying? Sometimes Bucky really didn't like Sam, but he was a great friend and great company when he wasn't being an annoying shit. But then again, he could be an annoying shit when he wanted to be. "Proud of you, man. Long road, but you're sticking with us."

"Yeah, yeah. Save the sappy shit, would you?" Bucky leaned his head back against the wall, taking deep breaths. "The hike was nice. Though Y/N almost fell off the log when we were crossing the river. I caught him before he did, but if he hadn't been holding my hand, I would've let him fall."

"You told him about your issue with falling?" Sam straddled the bench and rested his forearms on his thighs. "Dude, it took you like eight months to tell me about that and he's been here four months."

"Don't take it personally, Wilson." Bucky shrugged with a smile. "He's just got that calming feel to him. He's easy to trust and he's just really nice."

"And you were tellin' me to quit with the sappy shit? Do you hear yourself?" Sam cracked a smile as well. "I like Y/N, too. He's a good fit for the team."

Bucky nodded, agreeing. There had been something missing in the team dynamic for a while that no one could quite name or place, but Y/N and his kid had certainly brought it. The game night had really shown some of Y/N's full personality away from his daughter, though Bucky liked having Angelica around a lot. She was bubbly and sweet and brought a little bit of light on his bad days.

But Y/N...Y/N was just so thoughtful and selfless. It was obvious when he'd walked into his office that Y/N had no idea how to help him and was taken aback, but he'd helped him anyway. He showed genuine interest in the story Bucky had been telling him and even invited him along to an outing. They hadn't exactly hung out outside of the team nights and work hours. It was nice and he liked the idea of getting to see Y/N more often out of that stuff.

"Wait, don't tell me...Barnes, do you have a crush on Y/N?" Sam asked with a cocky grin.

"What? No!" Bucky said far too quickly, his face starting to flush. He was lucky he was already a little red from training, but Sam knew otherwise. His grin widened.

"You totally do!"

Bucky went to defend himself again but he sighed and turned his head away while Sam started to snicker. "Fine. Maybe I do a little."

"Man, I didn't take you for one to like guys," Sam said.

"Is...that an issue?" Bucky asked warily, his heart starting to flutter in his chest. For most of his life, he'd shoved that part of him aside and hidden it. Sure, he fooled around with a couple of guys in the forties but it never went very far. And war made people do desperate things. But he was worried that even now, he'd have to keep that part of him tucked away and ignore it.

"Hell, no. My best friend in college was the most flamboyant gay guy I've ever met. Smart as a whip and a beautiful musician. I don't give a shit, but I don't wanna hear about all the details. And that goes for women, too. That stays private, man." Sam wrinkled his nose up and it made Bucky chuckle. "I don't know how it was back then, but people are a lot more accepting now than they were. They legalized same-sex marriage a few years back. And if anyone gives you shit about it, I'll kick their asses."

"Thanks, Sam. That means a lot." Bucky smiled. "But if you tell anyone that I have a thing for Y/N, I'll kick you off the helicarrier again."

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