#its a LOT to not be halfway done yet

[earlyspringtranscendence]

currently 500 pages into rhythm of war, am enjoying the things im enjoying very deeply (mostly shallan and adolin. and veil and radiant and shallan’s dynamics. and kal but thats easy because he’s my favourite character and besides isn’t even hitting that hard in this one its just that everything he does is everything to me) but so much of it also is just such a slog and idk if it’s me because i usually set aside a day to read like 80% of the book in one go or if it’s the fact that a friend has now also read stormlight and shared some opinions w me that i dont disagree with or if its the book itself but like. navani is such a boring POV character and adolin’s reduction down to his fashion sensibilities is a snore and the bridgemen are practically absent so kal doesn’t even have anyone to endear him even more to me and even venli’s just too like. cautious to have anything going for her. like fr the only person i don’t have any sort of a complaint towards as of rn is shallan

[kirisclangen]

Zelda

She/her, 65 moons, cis molly

[marblerose-rue]

wahaha sneak peek!!

[fefairys]

i will finish this fucking fanfic if it kills me. i can do this.

[clowningaroundmars]

this lil story i'm workin on about miles42 has gotten out of CONTROL

my first draft is already well over 15k words long now?? 😭😭

this was just supposed to be a quick lil story? bang it out, be done with it?!?!

what is wrong with me

[mingi-s-dimples]

Crave me - yunho

pairing: bf!yunho x gf fem!reader

rating: 18+, bdsm

genre: romance, bdsm, filthy smut (mdni ty)

summary: The bratty attitude you had with him didn't last long.. as he leaves his patience at the table and destroys you.

WC: 3.5k

warnings: rough/strict dom!yunho, bratty sub fem!reader, bdsm, choking, neck kink, sucking, blowjob, making out, tying up, pet names (darling, babe, love, pretty boy, sweetie, sweetheart), degradation kink (slut, cumslut, whore), praise kink, slapping/spanking, both vaginal and anal, use of bdsm attire (cuffs, blindfold, rope), use of toys (vibrator), sense deprivation (blindfold), little bit of hand kink, punishing, edging, creampie, ruined orgasms, multiple rounds, deals (but Yunho feels cocky and he said fuck the deal), cum cum cum a lot of cummm, squirting, mentions of safe word but never used (reader is a brat), cum eating, big dick!yunho, overstim, backshots, unprotected (REMEMBER TO WRAP UP IRL !), completely consesual !, for sure forgot something.

Author's Note: SO ! When I first started writing this fic, several day ago, I didn't intend to make it this.. filthy. But.. my lovely bestie rated the roughness in the other 3 fics I have posted an average of 8.sth/10 and I took that as a CHALLENGE. Hope you like it, Lis, love you sweetie. Another small note: WHY AREN'T THERE MORE BDSM FICS OUT THERE HELLO? I'M A SUCKER FOR THEM !

Update, Lis: okay, even though i saw some paragraphs before this was published, i was still taken off guard by this. i’m taking back my words, roughness level 10/10, WHEN I TELL YOU I HAD TO TAKE A BREAK AND BREATHE. seriously i love this fic sm and bia you are so talented, you never fail to amaze me❤️❤️ please keep going with your work, i love youu<3 ( i’m still waiting for a demon joong fic 👹👹👹 ) - my answer: the demon joong fic is alr in my drafts, halfway done.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction & does not represent in any way the reality of the member.

The grand dining hall was a symphony of opulence and elegance, its high vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate plasterwork and crystal chandeliers casting a warm, golden glow over the scene. Rich tapestries hung from the walls, their deep hues of burgundy and gold complementing the polished mahogany of the round, small dining tables. As the guests settled into their seats, the gentle strains of a string quartet drifted through the air, mingling with the soft clinking of fine glasses and the murmur of animated conversation.

At one end of the table you were sitting at, the host, Park Seonghwa raised his glass in a toast, his voice resonant and filled with the gravitas of tradition. Across from him, Hongjoong's laughter rang out, light and melodious, adding a delicate counterpoint to the music. The aroma of roasted meats and rich sauces wafted from the platters being served, each dish a masterpiece of culinary art. Conversations flowed like the wine, moving from the latest societal gossip to philosophical musings, as the guests, dressed in their finest evening attire, engaged in a dance of words and wit.

In this setting, every detail was meticulously curated to create an atmosphere of refined luxury and cultural sophistication. Yet, beneath the surface of this carefully constructed elegance, the undercurrents of intrigue and hidden agendas were beginning to stir, promising that the evening's conviviality was only the prelude to a much deeper story.

You, a renowed and well known supermodel, were sitting right next to your husband, Jeong Yunho. He was the CEO of the agency you were modelling at.

The thing is... besides the lovey-dovey side you and Yunho always showed to the other guests and your friends, for example Seonghwa, Hongjoong and the others, the two of you had... another side to your relationship.

Your intimate relationship dynamic was quite.. the opposite of what you were showing. From light forehead kisses, hand holding and warm hugs and kisses... to cuffs, blindfolds and degradation. No one knew the real you when in private, and it made the whole thing way better.

*several minutes later*

"Ooookay, should I ask the chef to bring us some desserts? I think the dinner went really well!" Hongjoong said smiling, watching each of his guests contently. He then hovered his eyes over the whole venue, you could see the happiness flooding over him. It was the ending dinner for a really important business plan that came to a final success.

While the others were happily celebrating with the host, you and Yunho were giving each other some stares. One of the things you loved the most to do was to annoy your man. Why? Cause you knew he'd destroy you the same night. You were never allowed to do things on your own, without his permission. Things such as touching him in public, deny his own touching, dress how you'd like without his approval, because he was really jealous of needy and hungry eyes that always wanted you. Everyone had envy for him, because you were the most beautiful model in your country, the agency itself was the best one, too. But tonight.. you decided to do.. everything that annoyed him and drove him insane. You first started with a.. really nice outfit, you'd say. It was halfway see-through, high heels and silver, bold jewelry completing the look. You were wearing two pieces, a short but flowy black skirt and a white, almost translucent shirt, an elegant one. Your hair was straightened, flowing beautifully on your bare back, as the shirt you were wearing only covered your chest. A silver chain was connecting two pieces of fabric on your back, making you flinch with every slight touch, because of the sheer coldness.

"Darling.. did I ever approve of... this outfit?" Yunho whispered, one of his hands going on your thigh. You tried to deny his touch, moving his hand away, but he only dug his nails deeper into your leg. You flinched, looking at him in the eyes, with an almost innocent look.

"Oh babe... don't you like it? Damn.. I thought it looked really nice" you said sheepishly, smiling at him.

"I didn't say I don't like it but... didn't we agree that these types of visible outfits are... only for me to see, hm?" he whispered and approached your neck with his lips, slightly biting it.

"Babe.. there's people around us. What would they think of you, seeing you kissing me like that?" you said, trying to get a reaction out of him but to your surprise, he remained calm and content, biting you harder.

"Do I look like I give a fuck? You did it to yourself, love. This is the first strike of tonight.. be careful for the rest of the time. I don't feel like destroying your beautiful body when we get back in the room." Yunho said, going in for a soft kiss on your lips.

"We'll see about that, babe." you said and got up from your seat, searching with your eyes the champagne bar.

Someone came behind your back. Of course, it was Yunho, all touchy on your bare waist, as the shirt you were wearing was pretty.. short.

"Babe.. I almost forgot" he mumbled.

"What did I tell you about denying my hand, hm?" his hands hovering your back, one of them on your ass and one on the nape of your neck, slightly squeezing it. "Hm? what did I tell you, mind sharing me your reason?"

"You told me that I should... never move your hand away from myself.." you said turning around to face him. "But... what's entirely wrong with it.. pretty boy? Don't you like it when I tease you..?" you said and gave him a kiss, your hands traveling from his neck to his collarbones, then from his chest to his belt, tugging at it for a second.

"This is.." he whispered. "Strike two.. my love." One more and we're out of here.. remember the rule?" he squeezed your ass, looking right into your eyes, seeing how eager you were to fuck him right there.

Several minutes pass and you were back to your table, sitting next to each other. He effortlessly pulled your seat closer to his, making you gulp at his power and speed. Looking him in the eyes you started being all touchy with him. Started from his hands, feeling up his slender and long fingers, then to his biceps. You stayed like that for a long minute, with your head resting on his shoulder, then one of your hands went straight for his crotch, no warning.

"Yunho, everything good? Why did you flinch, is it too cold here?" Seonghwa asked, confused.

"Ah yes, everything is fine, don't worry about it" he said smiling, squeezing your thigh, his hand going to your pussy, rubbing circles through your panties from under your skirt.

 "Babe... that's strike three, if you ask me." he said and patted you on your thigh, to make you look at him. He then looked around for the exit doors and excused himself, taking your hand into his.

"Joong, we'll be back, I need to take care of something at the agency" Yunho said and then dragged you out.

And as the two of you got out the doors, there was a long empty hall, no one was there. He slammed you to the wall, one of his hands on your throat and one lifting you up. He was going towards the elevator.

"Nh- babe, where are we going? you said through the kisses.

"Just upstairs, I reserved a room for us right here. I didn't think we'd need it but... you wanted to be a little slut so it serves us good. Aren't you my little whore, hm? All down for me, I saw you eye fucking me when you were getting champagne. You wanted me to fuck you dumb tonight, mm? he said while going in the elevator.

"What did you want me to do babe, hm? Did you miss my slaps and my cuffs? You little slut, you'll see what will happen if you're being a brat with me again" and right as he said this, he held you close as he opened the door with the keycard. He closed it and he dropped you on your bed.

Some meters from the king sized bed there was a small bag, and you knew so well what there was... cuffs, blindfolds, ropes.. everything you could think of as a sub. And yes.. the relationship between you and your husband, in private, was a dom/sub one. You found out that you were both into bdsm a while ago, when Yunho didn't resist anymore and tried something new on you. You loved it and... it became a really often practice.

"Love, spread out, now." he said as he went back to get something from the bag.

You were still dressed and he was too. But you could feel yourself leaking right on the bed. You knew you left a wet spot on the dark sheets, something that turned your man on even more.

"Told you to spread the fuck out, you brat. When did you get so naughty, hm? Want me to put you in your place? he said as he spread your legs out, tying them to the bed frame. You still had your clothes on, but the skirt was lifted up and the blouse was all messed up. He ripped of your panties and threw them on the floor.

You tried to say something but didn't have time to react. He went back to the bag and took out some cuffs, then got on the bed, his crotch, still dressed, rubbing on your folds. You could feel his bulge getting bigger, his pants getting thighter as he went further to tie your hands to the headboard.

"For all of what you did tonight.. babe, you'll get punished, you know that, right? he said as he hovered his hand over your throat and collarbones. "Stay still, I'll tie a sheer blindfold to your eyes. I want you to still be able to distinguish how I destroy your little and pretty pussy." 

"Yuyu.. please. Fuck me." you pleaded, trying to look him in the eyes. Whenever he tied a blindfold on your eyes.. it turned you on so bad. You couldn't properly see what was happening nor what he was doing, preparing what to do to you.. but it was thrilling.

"Hmm... what should I start with.. pretty slut, mm? Should I just edge you until you can't take it anymore and cum out of overstimulation and exhaustion, should I make you cry and not let you cum the whole night? Should I.... fuck you and deny your orgasm how you denied my hand? Tell me, sweetheart. I need words, not muffled sounds." he confidently said, giving you a smirk and his right hand going right to your blouse, easily unbuttoning it and throwing it away on the floor.

He hastly gets rid of your bra, his groping entirely unhelpful. Large hands, slender fingers roaming your body, sliding over your nipples, pressing and nibbling at them, cupping your breasts and hoisting your legs up and around his waist. Him, still clothed, you.. only with your skirt on, if that's even important.

"Fuck, Yuyu —" you gasp when he sucks a dark bruise into the skin of your neck, while one of his hands went to his shirt. He slowly unbuttoned it, then went for his pants. He undid them halfway and pushed towards you, getting a soft moan out of your slowly rising chest, heavy breathing from all the manhandling he did on you. He was taking his time. He absolutely loved seeing you begging for his cock, squirming and moving against his crotch in wish of friction. But.. Yunho left all his patience at the door.

"Babe, how did you get me this mad, hm? Did you even think about the consequences, you little slut? If that's what you wanted.. I'll destroy you, sweetheart."

Two of his fingers trace your hole before sinking into you, curling to find the right spot. All you can do is arch your back, your moans and cries soon muffled by one of his hands, as he chokes you.

"Is this what you wanted? rile me up so I'd fuck you hard tonight? all you needed to do is ask, sweetie." Yunho said, curling his fingers right into your sweet spot, receiving some loud moans from you.

You could ask and he'd give you the moon if he could. But he was a completely different person in bed. There's something about him taking you like this, almost feral, that makes your toes curl.. could it be his fingers and how he curls them in you so good that he makes you shiver and cum, maybe squirt all over the place? would it be... his cock and how deep you feel it in you, scared that he might destroy your insides?

He fucks his fingers into you sloppily, scissoring you open with little to no care if it hurts or not. It was clear that he only had one goal in sight, and that being stretching you out just enough to be able to take his cock.

It only takes a few more strokes before he's satisfied, the blunt head of his dick prodding at your entrance, getting loud whimpers from you.

"Use the safe word if it's too much" he said and started pounding into you, making your hands rocket to the headboard, holding on for dear life. It's the only warning he gives you but.. it's enough to get an understanding on how pissed he was. He was holding so thight onto your thighs, them around his waist, that you knew you'd have bruises the next day.

"So fucking tiny" he grunts as he watches you struggle to adjust to his size "Such a whore for my cock, mhm? You take it so well... even if it destroys you. Be my cumslut, won't you? I'll edge you until you can't take it anymore."

"Y-yunho !" you shouted as he used a vibrator on your clit, arching your back at the sensation. The puffed bud he was stimulating made you feel like you'd already come, but something else happend. Your walls clenched on his cock, receiving a low grunt and as he slowed down his thrusts, he watched you contently at how you squirted all over him and the bed.

"Oh wow, already? Lucky this is the only thing I'm letting you do, you little slut" he said as he thrusted even deeper, harder, sloppier into you.

"Babe, n-no don't do th-that I might c-cum" you said as he was giving you another round of circles on your clit, feeling how overstimulated you were.

"Nope, I won't let you" he said as he stopped, pulling out of you, your hole clenching on nothing.

He started rubbing his length lazily, looking at you squirming right in front of him. You wanted to be fucked dumb, until you couldn't walk anymore. But that wasn't his plan for tonight.

"Let's make a deal. If you make me cum only with your mouth, no hands and no sucking. Just touching, licking and nibbling, I'll let you cum. Otherwise, you'll get slapped and fucked... not in your little aching pussy, but deep down in your cute and red ass, until you cry. What do you say, babe, a pretty good deal, I'd say?" he said as he uncuffed your hands, lifting you on your knees.

The thing is... you weren't quite.. on your knees. You were spread out, your aching hole rubbing on the wet and sloppy linen underneath you. You started humping it slowly, not knowing if you were allowed to, but he somehow didn't mind it. He knew you weren't able to cum only from humping on a cloth so he let you do your thing.

"Now.. be my little cumslut and get on licking." he said guiding your head to his dick, throbbing on your lips. You had your hands cuffed at your back, not being able to move them. You started kissing, nibling at the tip, getting some nice groans out of him. Then you started licking the slit, putting pressure with your tongue and licking his length all down to the base of it. The circles you always make on the tip get him from being silent to being louder, as the sloppy sounds of your tongue turns him on more.

"Yes, just like that, sweetie. A liiiittle bit more and you're getting me closer."

You started nibbling, almost like sucking on his tip.

"Yuh, mhm. Go on, make me cum, you little whore" he said as his breath started getting faster, heavier, your licks getting sloppier as he tried so hard not to cum but... you did the deal. He came all over your face, as you were not allowed to suck it.

"Good girl, such a good girl you are" he said as he wiped off his load from your face with one hand and with the other one opening your mouth, his thumb on your bottom lip. He let his cum drip onto your tongue, signaling you by raising his brows to swallow. You did as he wanted, soon sucking his fingers to get every drop of his load.

"Y'know babe.. I kinda changed my mind in between your little nibbles." he said as he turned you over, on your belly, one of his hands on the back of your throat. "You're gonna take me so well, I will make sure of it." he said as two of his fingers went in your other hole, no warnings. You moaned at the feeling of his fingers curling up inside you. The same as before, his goal was to make your hole be able to engulf his length, but this time his goal was to bottom down entirely.

"Thought you could just leave me like that?" he wraps a hand around your waist, the other one on your neck, "leave me high and dry without any repercussions? You're lucky I'll keep my promise and let you cum so... cum, you little slut." as he started pounding heavily and deeply into you.

The hand he had on your waist goes to your pussy, curling them inside you and rubbing your clit.

You shake your head at his words, the coil in your tummy tightening with every word he hisses into your ear, wetness dripping down his balls and coating them as he pounds into your ass.

Yunho could feel you clenching around his cock, knows you're close by the familiar rhythm and your muffled whines rising in pitch. He removes his thight hold on your neck, letting you turn your head around, gasping for air.

"'m so close, fuck, yunho, gonna cum —"

Your entire body tenses then slumps down against the mattress, only held up by his strong arm around your waist. Yunho fucks you through your orgasm, through the oversensitivity and the chants of your little whimpers and words.

"too much, 's too much, please, s-stop" but you never use your safe word. You whine and you cry until your limp body is pushed over the edge again, eyes rolling back while you cream his cock, the 2nd time in a short time.

"c-can't," you whimper weakly, "please cum, please — Yunho, please-"

You're begging him so sweetly, voice cracking and body at his mercy. Yunho's hips stutter and his load spills deep inside of you. Your knees buckle under his waist and you whine when the two of you stumble back, his arms wrapped around your chest, all touchy on your breasts.

"You're gonna take my cum all, you little whore. Remember what I said, being my cumslut? Now, take it" he said as he continued pounding into you, getting you over the edge. He didn't lie when he said he'd destroy you, your knees trembling as he closed the gap between the two of you. He then pulled out, pumping his length and his other hand going to your clit over your thigh, sending you shivers down your spine as you squirt once again for the night, now your body being only handled by the hand he used on you.

"What a good whore I have, mm" he mumbled as he came on your back, slowing down his pumps as he slowly puts you down on the mattress.

"See babe? What happens if you're a fucking brat?" he said as he undid the blindfold, looking at your teary eyes.

"What, by the look you have, you want more, you little slut? Is that right?" he said as he slapped your ass.

"Don't worry, I wasn't even close to being done tonight, turn around, I want you to see me fucking you this time."

[inkonparchment]

Leon Kennedy x coworker!Reader.

Leon helps you avoid an unwanted date.

Leon is perplexed at the sight waiting for him in the break room.

After sitting crouched over his desk in his office for hours, pouring over the mounds of paperwork, his eyes had glazed over. He had dropped the pen, clattering unceremoniously on the wooden surface as he flexed his fingers to relieve some pain. Leon's headache had returned.

He reaches over to his mug, a dark blue thing with yellow stars dotted across it. A secret santa he got last year although there was nothing 'secret' about it; there was only one person who had a penchant for funky mugs. It's empty now so he pushes himself out of chair, beelining for the break room for a fresh batch of coffee.

And that's how he finds himself standing confused in front of the coffee machine with a steaming cup of coffee left abandoned on the counter. It's obviously your mug, all white with a small doodle of snoopy drinking coffee branded on its front. The creamer stands next to it, cap halfway done. And yet you're nowhere to be found.

He looks up, turns around and through the glass panelled walls that shows the rest of the office, various occupants in their cubicles. You're not amongst them. Maybe you left in a hurry? Leon shrugs, pouring himself a cup, knowing that you made it. Thank god. No one makes it like you do.

His hand reaches for the sugar packets and halts, seeing that the designated space is empty. Leon blows his bangs out of his hair in frustration. He walks over to the small walk-in pantry, twists the handle and opens the door. All of his training goes to hell at this moment as he nearly jumps out of his skin to see you standing inside the dark room.

Confusion etched so clearly on his face, he's only able to say your name incredulously before he's being unceremoniously pushed back with your firm hand against his chest. The door snaps shut and you're hidden again.

"Oh hey Leon." A gruff voice greets him.

Leon turns and is greeted by a huffing and puffing Billy. Oh. He knows Billy. A young, recently inducted agent in the DSO. All glittering smiles, bathed in cologne and the inability of taking a hint. At least that's what Hunnigan has told him.

The complaints about him had recently increased, putting Leon at the receiving end of Hunnigan's rants of how Billy had started to frequent the field support officers floor too much. He likes to camp at your desk. A lot. Which is funny to him since Billy coincidentally never seems to be around whenever Leon is at your desk.

And you locking yourself away in the small pantry suddenly makes sense.

"Billy," Leon says in greeting, nonchalantly moving to where your mug is, hiding it behind him. "Looking for someone?"

Billy pauses, fingers tugging the open collar of his shirt. "Uh yeah how'd you know?"

"Lucky guess," Leon shrugged his shoulder, a small smile tugging at his lips. "Looking in the wrong place though aren't you?" He gestures around the empty room.

"I could've sworn she came in here," Billy frowns, striding inside and coming to a halt in front of the pantry door.

"I think she went up on the tenth floor," Leon says helpfully, "Something about a meeting."

"Oh." Billy perks up at the information, immediately shuffling out. "Thanks man, I owe you one!"

Leon has to stifle his laugh when he sees Billy practically run to the elevators, waiting to see him turn the corner before he pushes himself off the counter and striding to the pantry.

He opens the door, puts one hand against the frame and leans into it, teasing tone apparenton his tongue. "Avoiding someone, sweetheart?"

You poke your head out under his arm, quickly scanning the room. "Is he gone?"

He looks at you quite amused, "Yeah I sent him to the tenth floor so that should take him a while."

You breathe out a sigh of relief, ducking under his arm and finally walking back into the room, the aroma of coffee greeting you. You head to where your mug is, resuming your activity to when before you saw Billy marching on the floor, head swivelling around like a maniac.

Leon is still staring at you, eyebrows raised in question when you finally look at him.

"What?"

"So you wanna explain what just happened or...?"

You roll your eyes, putting the creamer away. "I'm avoiding him because apparently he's made up his mind that I'm going to be his date to the gala."

The Gala. Leon vaguely remembers Hunnigan mentioning it. It was a few days back when he had come up to the FSO floor, loitering around at your desk and finding himself feel a pang of disappointment when you weren't at your seat.

He must have looked very dejected because Hunnigan had fixed him with a look so knowing and scathing, it almost made him scuttle back off to his office. It didn't bode well for him that you two were desk neighbours. There had been no ounce of subtlety in her tone when she mentioned the upcoming gala and how he should find a date soon.

Leon had deflected, leaning against her desk with a smirk and asking Hunnigan if this was her way of wanting to be asked out by him.

Her aim with a pen to his forehead had been impeccable.

He brushes his bangs back from his eyes. "And I take it you don't want to go with him?"

You make a sour face, pouring coffee in Leon's mug. "I'd rather get over by ten trucks than go anywhere with Billy." You pluck out two sugar packets from the other end where Leon clearly did not look.

Leon is stunned as he watches you pour the two sugar packets in his mug, giving it a quick stir. He's only made his coffee once in front of you and yet you remember how he likes it.

It takes him a second to spur into action as you stand there holding out his mug to him. His fingers brush against yours, lingering for a moment before pulling away, realising he prefers the warmth of your hands than the warm beverage.

Leon chuckles at your words. "I'd say thats a bit much but knowing Billy, that's probably an understatement." He gets entranced by the smile you give him, mind going blank. "Come with me."

You miss the handle of your mug, hand bumping against the snoopy doodle causing some of the liquid to slosh out. Your eyes widen at his words, "What?"

He sips his coffee, hoping his words come out straight. "Would you like to go to the Gala with me?"

Leon holds his breath as your eyes search his face, "You want me...to go with you?"

"Yeah." He waits a beat. "I'll push Billy in the fountain for you."

That gets you to laugh, a loud hearty one, eyes crinkled in joy as Leon feels his stomach flip. So sweet.

You play with the handle of your mug, eyes flitting all over his face, "Yeah um, I'd really like that."

"Okay," He blinks, breaking out in a smile of his own. "I'll pick you up then."

You grab your mug, shyly walking towards the exit and just before you leave, you look over your shoulder, "If you whisper one bad joke during the night, I'll go straight home."

It's his turn to laugh. "I'm not making any promises, sweetheart."

[cordeliawhohung]

Of Sea Foam and Iron [3]

general masterlist | series masterlist | taglist

Hephaestus!ghost x Aphrodite!reader x Ares!soap

a storm hits

wc: 3.9k

warnings: historical au with lots of inaccuracies, mythology!au, nudity, talk of war and gore

Cold linens awaited you when you truly woke from your rest as John and Simon’s presence had dissipated.

There was no chin to rest against the top of your head, or a strong chest to press against your back. In fact, the only proof that they had ever been there at all was their lingering scent on your skin. You closed your eyes as soon as they fluttered open, trying to draw back the memory of their hands on your waist and the comforting weight that accompanied it. It was only a pale imitation of the real thing, and it left your chest yearning for something you knew you would never gain the courage to ask for. 

When your eyes opened for a second time, they did so with a great huff from your lungs. Pale sunlight and a strong breeze drifted through the cracks of the closed shutters, and though salt was always ever present in the air, you could smell the promise of rain hiding underneath the brine. It would be a good day to stay inside. 

Usually you didn’t need your himation in the warm summer months, but without the golden sun to warm the house, a heavy chill pricked at your body. You wrapped the thick wool around your shoulders before you descended downstairs on creaky steps. Simon was already hard at work for the day, and you hardly got halfway to the landing before you heard his hammer echo with its metallic clink in the courtyard. All Simon had done since the day the two of you were bound together in matrimony was work. In the beginning, you were certain that it was to distance himself from you — his unruly wife — but once John returned home you thought he would allow himself to rest. Yet, it seemed as if that’s all the man ever wanted to do. 

“Mornin’ little dove,” John grinned. 

A strong fire blazed in the central hearth of the home where dancing flames attempted to lick John’s back as he sat faced away from his hard work. Blue eyes sparkled with a warmth that rivaled the fire behind him, and you almost felt a smile flitter across your lips. There was nothing different from his gaze that morning compared to the previous day, yet his fingers twitched as they rested on his bent knees as if they searched for something.

“Morning,” you replied, voice meek as you adjusted your himation. 

Johnny’s hand slipped off of his knee where he patted the hearth next to him invitingly. “Come, get warm.” 

Your bare feet hardly made a sound against the floor as you crossed into the threshold. Each step brought the warmth of the flames along your legs where they dethawed your cold toes and fingers. John watched you with careful eyes as you situated yourself on the stone slab next to him, and he hummed once you settled. Heat prickled up your spine and it chased away the residual morning cold that clung to your body; though, you were unable to tell if that was because of the fire, or because of John. 

“Rain is coming,” he said. His head tilted back to look up at the ceiling as if it were the sky instead. “A storm, maybe.” 

Over the roaring of the fire behind you, a dull roll of thunder grumbled somewhere in the distance. It was not frequent that your city received storms, as Poseidon often smiled upon you. Though one could argue he was angry, if the storm was mild, perhaps he only sent the rain to assist with the farmers and their crops. 

“That would be nice,” you mused. 

John chuckled warmly. “You like the rain?”

“I think so,” you answered. “I like the water. The ocean.” 

“A fine thing to love.” 

Instinct told you to look at him, yet you refrained from doing so. Despite the familiarity in the tone of conversation, John was still a stranger to you. Some man who had returned only yesterday to embrace your husband while dressed to gut enemies. Still, he was kind, but despite the fire at your back, you were silent and cold. 

“I… wanted to talk more about yesterday,” John continued through your silence. “I’m sure you still have many questions, as Simon isn’t the most prolific.” 

“Prolific?” you repeated with your snark hardly restrained. “He’s spoken a handful of words to me since we’ve been married.” 

“Like I said, quiet,” he repeated with a poorly hidden laugh. “Though, I wasn’t much help prompting answers from him yesterday, either. Dead on my feet after traveling. Took us just short of a fortnight to arrive home.” 

John rubbed at his eyes as if the exhaustion still plagued his vision, and yet even with his movement you did not glance at him once. Looking at someone often brought a weakness about you that you had difficulty conquering. There was something about their eyes that had you see the humanity within them, no matter how hard they tried to hide it. You would have hated to crumble in front of him. 

“Well,” you prodded, “perhaps you can get an explanation out of him, then. He spoke not a word of your existence and then introduced you as my second husband? Such terrible madness.” 

“I already got an explanation out of him this morning while you slept,” he sighed. “Which is why I want to talk to you. I’m better at explaining things than Simon is.” 

Bewildered, you finally allowed your eyes to fall on John. “Must you be so casual about this? Was this not a surprise to you? Coming home to your husband having wedded himself illegally to someone else?” 

“Simon is not my husband.” 

Your expression betrayed the icy exterior you used to conceal that softness inside. It was difficult to tell if it was because of your confusion, but you found your heart aching at those words. John could not look at you when he said them, and though they left his tongue with ease his tone was soaked in a somberness that burned. 

“Soldiers aren’t permitted to marry,” he explained, blue eyes trained on the floor in front of him. “They say love gets in the way. Muddles things up. Soldiers have only one duty, and it’s to the state.” 

He paused.

“I would have liked to have married him.” 

If it wasn’t for the pain in his voice, you would have been afraid. The lost longing painted you to be the ruiner; the pitiful being that tainted something that had not gotten the opportunity to bloom. A desert-like dryness settled on your tongue. It tasted worse than sand. It was bitter, grainy, and promised to end you. 

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say. 

“Don’t be,” John said with an attempt at humor. “I told him to find a wife. To get married. Have children. I would have hated for him to wait around forever just for me.” 

“Could you not have waited? I thought soldiers were only required to serve for two years,” you pondered. 

John hummed again. He did that often, as if song better suited his ideas than mere words. Thick fingers pressed into the joints of his wrists as he massaged tired muscles and traced faded scars before answering you. 

“Most only serve for two years, yes,” he concurred. “But, you don’t earn the name Ares’s Dog by serving the minimum. My heart is here in the city, but my home is in the viscera leftover from battle.” 

He paused as he twisted his torso to look behind him. A large hand reached for a split log in the pile just next to the fire, and John expertly tossed it into the flames. The fire cracked loudly, content with its meal. 

“No. I told him to marry, so it wasn’t quite the surprise when I came home and you were already here,” he explained as he repositioned himself. “Find a wife. Start a family. And if his wife would have me too, then I would stay. But it seems things weren’t that simple considering your… situation.” 

“Yes,” you concurred, voice soft. “It wasn’t… proper.” 

“Simon told me what your father had to do to protect you. I’m sorry you had to witness such gore,” Johnny consoled. “I understand why he would hastily marry you off to Simon if it meant having the protection you deserve. And, well, knowing Simon as well as I do, he didn’t hesitate at all in marrying you if it meant aiding you.” 

A scoff tore through your vocal chords so fierce it left a sour aftertaste on your tongue. John spoke of Simon as if he were Apollo himself, guiding the sun across the sky to bring light and warmth to the soil beneath your feet. You were certain that John’s feelings towards Simon weren’t unfounded at all, but though he had never been cruel or unkind to you in any way, he was not loving. Not to you, anyway. 

“Could have fooled me,” you spat. “I feel like a ghost in this house. At least he avoids me like one.” 

Despite your sour attitude and words, John only chuckled. 

“His love is strange, yes,” he said. “It’s still new to him; love. Being vulnerable. Something he was never granted before. He’ll keep his distance, if you let him. I swear to you, you’ll find no finer man than him.” 

Another roll of thunder shook the sky. It was stronger than the quiet whisper of one you heard minutes earlier, and it all but demanded attention. Both you and John looked up to the ceiling, and moments later the soft trickle of rain engulfed the house. Though none of the windows were open, you pulled your himation closer to you as if to stave off the breeze that beat at the shudders. The thick wool soaked up the heat of the fire like a sponge, keeping you well insulated despite the impending storm. 

A content sigh left John as he carefully pushed himself to his feet. Soft trails of goosebumps prickled across his skin as he stepped away from the fire and into the cold, but he didn’t stray far before turning to face you once more. His hands reached for you where they hovered in the air, patiently waiting for you to accept his offer. 

“Come. We should eat,” he urged.  

It was not your first time putting your hands in his. He always seemed to want to hold you and gently guide you as if you did not know any better. Still, you accepted his assistance as he pulled you from the hearth. Somehow, his hands were warmer than the flames, and though you were standing on your own, he refused to let you go. 

“I meant what I said earlier,” he said, blue eyes boring into you. “I told Simon to find a wife, and if she would have me, then I would stay. If you do not wish for me to be here, say the word, little dove. Your father might have wanted for you to be under my protection, but I will not share a bed with a woman who would want someone else. I will leave no mark on this place when I go, if that’s what you wish.” 

No response rose in your mind or throat at his reminder, but a heavy fit of remorse weighed on your chest. He spoke those words as if he were the intruder. As if he had not loved Simon and lived in that house long before you ever came around. It was difficult to tell if you had fully accepted the idea that you lived with two men; though even if you hadn’t, it was something your father obviously wanted for you. Still, even if you didn’t want him around, you would not deny him the flesh and warmth of his lover. 

“Stay,” you said, voice quiet. 

John’s smile was the warmest you had ever seen. No hint of lust or darkness; only a pure appreciation for your kindness, something you felt like you weren’t capable of those days. His tongue darted out between his lips as if in anticipation, and you ignored the way it made your stomach churn. 

“Then it is done.” 

Trickling rain continued into the afternoon before it started to swell into a proper storm. Whistling wind became near deafening as it threatened to pull the house apart, and it wasn’t until the sky was black with clouds that Simon finally ceased his work and took shelter inside. With the amount of water that dripped from his clothes when he came limping into the kitchen for lunch, you were surprised he hadn’t drowned out there. Strands of hair stuck to his forehead and down the nape of his neck, and his chiton clung to his body in a way that certainly wasn’t comfortable. His frigid skin tinged pink with his scars extra angry and puffy. 

Both you and John looked up from your food at the sopping wet mess of a man who dirtied the kitchen. Simon’s chest heaved with fatigue, and his feet hardly lifted from the ground as he meandered towards John. 

“How’s the weather?” John asked facetiously. 

“Frustrating,” Simon huffed. “Can���t keep a goddamn fire lit or burnin’ hot enough.”

He paused once he approached John’s side, eyes focused on the plate of food in front of him. Without a word, he snatched a fair size of cured meat off of it before taking a bite and turning around. Simon continued his pitiful shuffle as he exited the kitchen, shoulders hunched and legs shaking. John did not appear to mourn the loss of his food, yet his eyes stayed trained unwavering on his lover’s body as he rounded the corner. 

“He seems upset,” you noted. 

“He’s in pain,” John explained. 

A clash of thunder sounded just as John rose from his chair, and he left his plate behind as he began to rummage for something around the stove. Its embers ebbed and waved with brilliant scarlet light, and it almost danced to life in flames when John knelt before it. He retrieved two medium sized, semi-flat stones tucked into the stonework and placed them on the small hearth next to the dying embers. Nodding to himself, he then turned to you, worry etched deep in his face. 

“Wait a few minutes, then grab these stones and bring them up to our chamber,” he asked while his feet began to wander out of the room. “They’ll be hot, so grab them with cloth. Take care not to burn yourself.” 

Without another word, he vanished out of the room where you then heard his feet stomping up the stairs moments later. Rain refused to quiet nor waver even as you carefully cleaned up yours and John’s plate. 

Pain? Simon was in pain? Well, John could certainly read your husband better than you could, because you thought he had just been his regular self. Still, you supposed it wasn’t entirely impossible. With as many scars that afflicted his body, you were certain the damage ran deeper than just superficial marks on his skin. 

As instructed, you waited until the rocks had soaked plenty of warmth before using the edge of your himation to grab them. With careful hands, you trekked up the stairs to the second floor where you found John and Simon in bed together. A drenched chiton sat on the floor next to the bed, but Simon’s naked body still glistened with the memory of its moisture. His chest heaved and he grunted like an animal as he slung an arm over his face, hiding his eyes from the light of the oil lamp that flickered on the nightstand. 

John’s thumbs dug into the muscle around Simon’s knees, massaging them with what appeared to be less than gentle touch. Simon hissed, jaw flexing as his teeth grinded together, yet he kept still as the man worked at him. You approached the side of the bed with hands outstretched, hot rocks tucked together underneath thick wool sitting in your palms. 

“Is he alright?” you questioned.

John paused long enough to turn and grab the stones from your hands. His fingers didn’t flinch when he grabbed them, as if he was so used to the heat of them that it no longer phased him. 

“It’s the weather,” he explained. “The old wounds in his knees are aggravated by the change.” 

You watched with apprehension as John pressed the rocks against Simon’s skin, yet your husband didn’t flinch. The tense muscles that flexed in his thighs slowly began to soften as John moved the rocks carefully around his knee, tracing the long scar that dissected his skin. It was one of the first things you noticed about him the day you got married. Deep and ugly, it ailed him so bad he couldn’t walk straight because of it; forever bound to limp in weakness despite the strong stature his body would otherwise have you believe. 

Another smaller scar mirrored in perfect continuity on his other knee. It was not as deep nor as angry, but you could clearly make out the line in which both scars connected. A blade. It must have been. There was no other weapon that you knew of that could’ve created a scar such as that. His entire body, even his face, was littered with the unsightly marks. 

Why would a blacksmith have such scars? 

John moved from one knee to the next, warm rocks soothing away the ache so deep in Simon’s body that hands alone could not heal. You quietly stole a seat on the mattress next to Simon, and you carefully watched the mesmerizing motions of John’s circling hands. He was so… soft for a soldier. Considerate. It’s a side of man you weren’t used to seeing after witnessing such violence in your home. For a while, you thought love was just violence; blood waiting to be spilled. Perhaps love was just warm rocks against tired skin. 

“What happened?” you asked with eyes still trained on the old wound. 

John’s eyes glanced up at Simon, who wasn’t able to see his gaze through the arm slung over his face. As if he felt the burn of his eyes, the man shifted on the bed before letting out a heavy sigh. 

“Tell ‘er, Johnny. Know you like tellin’ the story,” he urged. 

A grin bloomed on John’s face as he turned his attention back to Simon’s knee. “He got this from saving my life.” 

Stunned, you shifted on the mattress to get closer, and your thigh brushed against Simon’s leg. How your husband could handle the cold of your chambers completely naked and half wet was beyond you. Your body yearned for any warmth it could steal. 

“I don’t believe it,” you countered. 

Really, you didn’t. How could John MacTavish, hailed hero of your city, need any sort of saving? You didn’t at all doubt Simon’s capability of saving someone; it was just the thought that John could ever find himself in such a precarious situation that you doubted. 

“I’d never lie to you, little dove,” John chuckled. “No, Simon and I served together, once upon a time ago. Trained together. Fought together.” 

He paused his story in order to switch knees again, returning to the one closest to him. Simon’s breathing had already calmed, and he no longer panted like a mad dog. Any tension that had been harbored in his body when you first entered the chambers had almost been completely washed away. 

“Years ago both of us had been deployed in a large-scale battle. It was a bloody skirmish with swords flailing every which way, I swear the glint of metal was brighter than the sun that day,” John recalled. “But there was this big brute who fought with a club. Rivaled the size of Simon, even, which isn’t easy. Bastard snatched the shield right out of my hands and knocked his club against my chin. Split me right open and knocked me out cold.” 

A hand instinctively covered your mouth as John shared the story, and he paused for a moment to look at you. He seemed to take some sort of boyish pride in your worry, and he tilted his chin up to put his own scar on display. You had hardly noticed it before due to his stubble and your active effort to not look too many people in the eyes, but it marked his skin as clear as day. It was deep, spanning from the front of his chin and curling underneath the right side of his jaw in an angry, red line. 

“I wasn’t out long, of course, but I wasn’t all there when I woke up,” he continued. “Felt like I was underwater, could hardly breathe. Bastard stood over me ready to bash my head in like a damn melon when Simon swooped in like an eagle. Sliced him to bits before he could do anything else to me. But war is messy and unforgiving. Several others piled on him, got him pretty good. Still killed the bastards.” 

“All but one,” Simon corrected. He had been so quiet you swore he had fallen asleep. “One of ‘em ran off.” 

“He killed the bastards that weren’t cowards,” John amended with a chuckle. “But they got his knees. Surprised infection didn’t take him. But Simon, my love, stubborn man that he is, carried me off the field even with his wounds.”

“Would you rather I dragged you?” Simon asked. 

“You should’ve left me there.”

“I love you too much for that.” 

The sound of rain smothered the conversation as both men fell silent. Rotten shame boiled deep in your stomach as your eyes carefully scanned Simon’s body. Over the weeks, you had gotten so used to his unabashed nakedness to the point it didn’t phase you, but that wasn’t what made you feel shameful; it was the realization of how bitter you had been. 

On the day of your wedding when Simon lifted your veil from your face, the only thing you could think was how ugly he was. The scars that littered his body were just eyesores, and his limp didn’t make him a paragon of strength. Hardly the man that was supposed to protect you from the wicked ways of the world. How cruel you were for thinking such a thing. For looking at the scars he earned saving the life of his lover as if they were an eyesore rather than proof of his devotion. How dare you look at him as anything less than he was; a man who loved?

In an attempt to swallow down your shame, you found your own hands reaching out for Simon’s knee. The heat of his skin felt nice against your frigid hands, but he flinched at the sensation. You paused as you looked up at his half obscured face, and you didn’t look away until you felt his muscles melt and relax underneath your touch. 

In silence, you mimicked John’s movements with your thumbs. Tendons and muscle danced underneath your fingertips as you did your best to massage the pain from your husband. With hands as weak as yours, you were certain it hardly did anything to help him at all. Still, you continued, and you prayed to the gods that he could feel your silent apology through your touch alone.

[itsonlydana]

"Can you meet me halfway (I'll meet you halfway)" | hobbit

pairing: Thranduil x fem!reader x Bard 👑 [king's special]

you went out clubbing on new years eve when a gorgeous rich couple hits on you and invites you back to their apartment to finish what you started right on the dancefloor

warnings/tags: NSWF! THIS IS ADULT CONTENT ✋️, modern!AU, threesome, oral sex (male & female), dirty talk, semi-public-sex, soft dom! bard and bratty dom!thranduil, protected sex, fingering, passing out during sex, slight overstimulation, age-gap (reader is of age, though its described that thranduil and bard are older), hairpulling, aftercare,

words: 13,8k

an: this is by far the dirtiest thing i've ever written and my god i'm not a smut writer; i get too flustered over my own writing lmao. Hopefully you can enjoy this out-of-character story even if it isn't new years anymore!

inspired by early 2000s club bangers like Kesha, Britney Spears, Black Eyed Peas (that's where the title came from) and Lady Gaga

+ masterlist + 

🌿 reposts and comments or anonymous messages in my inbox are very appreciated, they motivate me a lot and keep me writing <3

"What?!"

"I said," the barkeeper leaned closer and pushed a filled to the rim shotglass over the counter, "this one is from the pretty one to your right!"

With a myriad of people in this club who fit your definition of "pretty" you found yourself on the brink of shouting at the red-haired bartender once more.

This would mark the third attempt, given that the club's 2000s music was blaring to the extent that communication was damn near impossible if you weren't screaming or using your hands trying to get orders across the sticky, littered with neon glowstick wristbands counter.

Before you could ask her who the hell she'd meant, the bartender had turned away, leaving you to figure out the mystery man for yourself.

You lifted the shot glass to your nose and took a deep breath— pure tequila.

At least you would enjoy this one; the last few shots other men had sent over to you had been nothing but disgusting, ranging from vodka to Jägermeister and one you didn't even bother to drink.

The world spun a little when you turned your head over your shoulder and for a second the flashy lights blurred the people crowding the bar into one mass, unidentifiable and mushed together; then your eyes zeroed in on him and pretty didn't even begin to cover it.

Next to the bar, holding out his own shot glass in hands that could've fit three or five of them, stood a man that was intimidatingly gorgeous and decently tall even as he rested his hip cheekily against one of the chairs, elbow on the wooden top while he flicked his fingers against the rim of the glass.

Not even that he was just tall, and he was –surely taller than most of the men standing between you two –, but he had this quality about him that let him stand out of the crowd.

Maybe it was the hair, blonde like starlight and pulled into a long and messy ponytail, with just a few loose strands framing his strong jawline. Or maybe it was the smug look on his face, the smirk that tugged on his lips when you dragged your eyes over the see-through shirt that clung to his well... and oh so– so well-defined chest.

On any other occasion, you would have simply raised the glass and disappeared back into the crowd of dancing people, but tonight felt different.

New Year's Eve had that ring to it. The careless "Fuck it all, it's all going to shit anyway"-attitude.

Any newspaper or media marked today the last day of yet another frustrating, wonderful, soul-crushing, draining, exciting, and overall overwhelming year, full of things you regretted having done, and as you stared at the man meeting your gaze with a questioning arch of a dark eyebrow, you found yourself giving a flying fuck about whether you'll add another mark on that board.

There was a surge of power washing through your body as you toasted the glass in his direction before tipping it against your lips and letting the tequila rush into your mouth.

The alcohol went down burning, hot, and dry and left a warm trail down your throat into your stomach.

"I see you not only bear a resemblance to the devil, you drink like her as well," a sultry voice drawled, sufficiently loud for you to lift your head.

Somehow the man had managed to appear right next to you within seconds and got so close that you were confronted with a very exciting view of his chest.

You eyed it, naturally because who wouldn't take their time looking at the flexing pecs covered in silver glitter and sweat?

Slowly, you dragged your gaze upwards, only faltering for a moment at the sight of a pink tongue running over plush lips. You met his eyes again, this time with no more than half a meter separating you and you were glad your knees didn't buckle like they threatened to do.

"And what are you? Some angel that has fallen from heaven?" Your counter was weak, a bad example of what was usually some excellent flirting, if you dare say yourself, but it's all you could manage with those cerulean eyes staring down at you in interest.

He laughed, thank fucking god, and tilted his head to the side. "It must be fate that we met, is it not?"

"Buy me another drink and we'll see"

Somehow, it didn't surprise you that he simply raised his pointer finger and the server immediately rushed to prepare whatever order he'd signaled her.

"Unfair, I waited, like at least five minutes for some water," you complained, not really putting any real annoyance into it but pouting nonetheless for the effect.

It went a long way because the stranger stepped closer, up into the little bit of personal space one could have in an overcrowded club, and cooed, "What a shame. Who could ever pass such a lovely face and not serve you right away?"

"I don't know," you sighed and smiled at him sweeter than sugar, "I do know that we shouldn't let that tequila go to waste though"

"Then be a good girl and drink up"

Oh, yeah.

Suppose you hadn't already contemplated sleeping with him, that certainly solidified your decision.

This wasn't just fate, this must be compensation for all the shit you've been through this year, wrapped up nicely in 6 feet and more of dripping sex and sultry smiles.

Eyes locked, you both clinked the glasses together before throwing them back. You couldn't help it when your lashes flutter shut.

Once again, the tequila burned all the way down to your stomach, adding to the cocktail of drinks that lowered your inhibitions and made your core throb in excitement.

You would've asked him for salt and lemon if he hadn't looked so unbothered by the pure taste. His lips didn't twitch, while you're sure yours were pulled into a grimace.

"Thank you, Sir," the words left your mouth without a second thought.

Thinking, in general, started to become more of a theory than something you were willing to do tonight; much too exhausting if you could simply let your tongue run wild.

He rewarded you for that decision, for his eyes widened and he stepped even closer, now slotting one of those long legs - and fuck, was he really wearing leather pants? Who had access to your wet dreams?- between yours as he leaned down.

"I must say you caught my interest the moment I saw you on the dance floor," He placed a hand on the countertop, not touching you yet, though the invitation he gave you, the silent question for permission, spoke for itself.

The second move was on you to lure him in and you blinked up at him while you trailed your fingers over the arm, scratching hairless skin with the tip of your nails until it changed into the fishnet top and you placed the hand to rest on one strong shoulder. The red color of your nail polish made such a beautiful contrast to his fair skin that your mind conjured imagines of how they must look on other parts of him.

Surely, with the size of him…

Now that you initiated the contact, he drove forward with his second hand, and the large palm cupped your chin.

While the touch was hot in how it's delivered, so dominating, and fuck if that didn't send warm licks of pleasure down your spine, his hand itself was surprisingly cold.

The temperature in the club was almost unbearable, only manageable through refreshing drinks and a trip or two to the bathrooms, and the spikes of the cool touch fought the heat pooling in your body.

One of those silky locks of hair brushed your neckline, falling right into the cut out of your dress that his eyes shamelessly took in from his higher-up viewpoint.

You took a deep breath, maybe even pushed out your chest as he eyed it in the knowledge that the lace bra was showing through.

All you inhaled was the intoxicating smell of his cologne, vanilla (even though you suspected he is anything but...), and something sweet and without a doubt expensive.

You're addicted to it the moment it hit your nose and clouded your mind.

"Do you not believe that an appropriate thank you is in order?" he inquired; no, he demanded.

You decided to play dumb, not because you thought he's into that – on the contrary, he seemed the kind of man who admired eloquence and intellect rather than dullness – but because it's a game you both enjoyed playing.

There was intrigue in tip-toeing around what is most obvious (lust as well as the urge to rip each other's clothes off as soon as possible, maybe even a fuck in the bathrooms).

"I thought I already said thank you," you mused, pushing out your lower lip into a pout again, "and that lousy shot is hardly worth more than a few words. You can't expect something greater if there is nothing to thank for."

He raised a dark eyebrow – you wondered if he colored his hair or eyebrows – and the hand around your chin lifted your head to twist it right and left.

One smooth thumb brushed over the pout, and he clicked his tongue. "Now now, I would consider this greedy if you were not in the right. You poor thing must be exhausted after all the dancing"

His eyes flashed when yours widened; he really did notice you before, had watched you.

"Yes," he drawled as if he read your mind, and his lips curved into a smirk that flashed a row of perfect bright teeth, "I saw how you moved out there, how wanton you presented yourself. However, it did not escape my notice that you rebuffed anyone who dared to approach."

When you opened your mouth to say something, his finger swiped over your lip again. Without hesitation, you sucked on the fingertip, collecting a few drops of tequila that you made a show of swallowing.

The protest disappeared with it down your throat.

He was right, why deny it?

The way you danced was just an expression of how comfortable you felt in your own body, the rhythm provided by provocative music a tool to follow the movements.

Everything you did, you did for yourself, not for the men who attempted to touch you simply because they were captivated by the dancing. As if you would accept some clammy hands grabbing for you.

"Maybe it was wanton," you said after releasing his finger, but not without scratching your teeth over it.

His pupils dilated, his chest raised at a sudden inhale of air; he apparently underestimated you.

You nodded your head toward the dance floor, "maybe I came here to look for a good fuck, but it's my decision who I take and not theirs"

"As you should. Those boys who tried and failed miserably were amusing to watch. None of them were good enough for you, right, sweetheart?"

You hummed in agreement as well as disagreement. "I'm not searching for anyone good enough," you thought back to all the good-guys who had lured you in with promises of treasuring you only to become insufferable with their need to control in the end.

"Then what do you need?"

"I want someone bad," the tone in your voice was challenging, just like the stare you gave him. "I want someone who won't be afraid to break me"

There was a slight tug on your chin, his hand pulled you in slightly but any further without any movement from you, it would've cause a strain in your neck.

You craved it.

The blonde god, he must be, the thought became clearer with any passing second, a gift, a god, an angel, crushed his mouth against yours. There was a fleeting moment where you realized you didn't know his name, but then his other hand wrapped around your neck, and your teeth clashed, and you found yourself not caring one bit.

You're sure he wouldn't mind if you moaned "God" instead of his name. Maybe he would even get off to it.

Only one way to find out.

It turned out quite hard to manage saying anything at all, his kisses stole every last bit of oxygen, robbing you of the ability to string together words and turning you into a whimpering mess with his tongue and wandering hands.

He called you a devil yet here he was, corrupting you in a way that will ruin you for any other person.

"You taste divine," he sounded as breathless as you felt when you separated and dizziness cultivated in your lust-clouded head at the compliment rasped in that deep voice of his.

"Do not worry," he continued, smearing the string of spit that connected you over your plush lips, "If you allow me I will try my very best to break you"

Hell or heaven, wherever he was leading you right now, your need tripped over itself eagerly.

When was the last time you were this aroused? You felt yourself growing wetter and wetter, and that only through his words and kisses; the state he could push you into if he truly fucked you would be completely new territory, you realized.

A nod is all you could manage.

The last you saw on his face was a wide grin before he kissed you again, this time though, he moved on to your jaw and then your neck. You beared it to him by tilting your head, eyes falling on the ceiling where the neon lights hushed over black brick, coloring your sight while your face took on a flushed red.

The blond devil nipped and bit, sucked and scratched in a manner so animalistic you wouldn't have thought a surely unquestionably sophisticated man to be able to.

You whimpered again, and your hands rose to grab something, anything and you found that ponytail the most accessible. Your fingers twirled a few soft strands as you gasped when his teeth sunk into the delicate skin right where your neck and shoulder met, and the slight pain following wasn't unwelcome.

It made you feel alive.

You're close to pulling him away to the bathroom– an amused laugh to your side prevented that thought from festering any further.

"I'm away for one smoke and you just couldn' wait?"

Unable to think straight after the assault on your neck, it took a moment for you to come back to your senses that don't revolve around lips, kiss, bite, fuck, suck…

Your sight spun as you snapped your head back, nearly knocking your chin into the man still busy marking you up, unbothered that there was another man watching you and clearly waiting for an answer.

So you decided to do the only thing that must convince him to let go, and you pulled on his hair.

He growled, fucking growled, and his lips twisted, flashing his teeth again.

Your heart dropped into your wet panties until you found he wasn't pinning you to the floor with the hard stare but the new arrival.

"Did you not see that I was busy?" he snapped at the dark-haired man, and while you felt slightly scared he was going to rip his handsome head off, the man only sported an annoyed expression.

"Yes, exactly. If I remember correctly, we decided to wait until I get back?"

Decided, waited?

"You took too long"

The man threw his head back in a raspy laugh, "Incorrigible bastard. Will I have to sit you down with a toy to keep you busy while I'm away?"

The blonde turned back to you and smirked, "That will not be necessary as I am quite capable of finding my own toys"

"Hey!" you cut into the conversation, not amused that they talked as if you weren't right there, "I'm not a fucking toy!"

Both men turned to you now, towering over you in their height, and mustering you so intensely that you slightly squirmed under their gaze.

The man with salt and pepper hair chuckled. "I am so sorry, Darlin'. I hope Thranduil didn't play too hard?"

Considering that you still felt the scratch of his teeth on your neck and the wet spit he left there, you felt like some kind of chew toy one would throw their dog but nevertheless, you pushed your chin up high. "Nothing I can't take."

The blonde's, Thranduil's, hand on your waist pulled you into him possessively. "I told you there is some bite behind the pretty face," he smirked.

While it didn't escape you that this hinted to a previous conversation, a plan formed over you, it's the attractiveness of them that led you to turn a blind eye.

"Weren't you the one biting a minute ago?" The music made it hard to talk normally and you stood up on your tiptoes to yell the words, but all that it resulted in is a deep chuckle.

"Oh, I like you," the other man laughed as well.

You took him in, the tight pants that showed off strong thighs and the black and gold shirt with more buttons open than actually buttoned that presented muscles and hair leading down and oh–

"What a surprise," you said, looking up to meet his hungry eyes, "I find I like you too" You turned your head to Thranduil, who smirked and sent you a wink that had you blushing, "So how's this gonna work? I'm going to be blunt and say that five minutes ago I was convinced you and I were on the same page, what's with your friend?"

"Husband"

"Husband?!" you parroted, unconvinced yet when your eyes fell on their hands a gold ring flashed back at you from both fingers.

Heat curled in your body like molten lava at lustful and otherwise utterly inappropriate thoughts this provoked of these two married man having their way around your body.

Thranduil bowed his head lower again, playfully nipping at the part of your neck that surely was already bruising. "I have to admit that I promised Bard to wait for him to come back, though I found I could not follow through when I saw you approaching the bar."

You swallowed. Hard. Not that it helped your very dry throat.

Bard came closer, reclaiming your attention.

His face, more defined than Thranduil's, was adorned with a rugged layer of dark stubble, crow's feet framing his vivid green eyes when he smiled at you. He looked the picture of a soft soul, but you remembered that this couple was picking up a third partner on New Year's Eve, so you shouldn't judge a book by its cover.

There was some spice behind the old-armchair-and-book-vibes.

"Will that be a problem, Darlin'?" he asked in that ruff voice, posh and Welsh accent dripping over you.

A refreshment to hear that accent in this city, so enthralling in how it wrapped around you; especially that damn nickname. There was no way you would say no to him.. both of them if he called you Darling one more time.

You shook your head. "No. I think I'll just need a bit more liquid encouragement if I am to survive this night."

"Oh, what a shame," Thranduils lips left where they continued to suck and lap on your neck, peppering kisses, leaving bruises, and moved to your earlobe. His voice dropped as much into a whisper as the music allowed it, "I had my hopes on fucking you into heavenly spheres"

There went the last string of sanity holding you back.

Hearing a man who was seemingly hell-bent on avoiding abbreviations like "don't" and "can't" at all costs speak in such a filthy way was something you never knew you needed.

"I hope you can follow through with that," you trailed a hand over his smooth chest, collecting glitter on your way and smeared it over his throat where his adams apple bobbed, "because if you break that promise like you did the one with your husband, I will just have to let him finish the job"

Thranduil yanked you back into him, back into a kiss that seared itself into your memories and burned the touch, taste, and movement of his lips into every cell of your body.

It was almost aggressive how much teeth went into the kiss, how he bit down and all you could do was gasp and whimper.

Briefly, you thought of the poor people around you, because if all you wanted to do was get a drink and were confronted with one person devouring the other, you would be seething but right now you were being the one he kissed, whose sounds he swallowed and whose hands held you to him.

So fuck them.

With your senses heightened now that you wanted these men all over you, the sensation of Bard leaning in, hair tips tickling your neck as he licked Thranduil's throat, led you to pull away from the blonde. You watched as Bard sprinkled something flaky and white onto the spot wet with spit, and only when he lifted a shot glass the thought crystalized that he salted Thranduil for you.

"Come on," Thranduil's smirk taunted you just as much as his words, "What is another lousy shot? We even made it easy for you poor baby, after you could not take the first one easily"

Rolling your eyes at the mocking, you dove in to copy Bard. The salt sticking to his neck coated your tongue and you took longer than necessary to lick the skin free of it. The rush that this sent through you was exhilarating.

As soon as you were finished, your head got tilted backward firm and yet gently.

Rough fingertips cupped your neck and one thumb moved to press against your jaw, as you felt a solid chest in your back.

"Open wide, Darlin'," Bard ordered and encouraged you to follow him as his other thumb pushed between your teeth.

You obeyed, never once breaking eye contact with Thranduil and taking in his lust-blown pupils, as Bard poured the tequila into your mouth, directly down your throat. Then, while you pulled a grimace, shutting your eyes for a second, Bard turned you around, sandwiching you between them.

When you opened your eyes again, you saw the green slice of lemon between his teeth and following the wink he sent you; you knew exactly what was to come next.

Kissing Bard was very different from getting kissed by Thranduil.

His lips were slightly cracked, not soft and they tasted like smokey whiskey and cigarettes, with hints of coffee and lime instead of fruity cocktails and rose chapstick. Lifting one hand to his face, your fingertips grazed the rough beard growing on his sharp jawline, the stubble scratching you in a promising way.

While you had been surprised when Thranduil had kissed you, you eagerly answered Bard's kiss with fervor. Your mind already teetered on the brink of shutting down and you poured the desperation into his mouth with a moan.

He chuckled, drawing back just enough that he could spit out the lemon – sucked empty – before wiping his thump over your lips.

"Sweet thing"

There was a softness in that gesture, but only short-lived before he kissed you again. His hands trailed your body, coming to rest on either side of your neck again and even that slight of pressure loaded a million images through your head.

A second pair of hands joined him on you, it's confusing until a large body pressed into your back and you realized- it was only Thranduil.

Well, only…

It had been clear that the man could and would not accept being reduced to anything. He radiated an attitude that you would call bratty but with his expensive clothes, that rich perfume, and the wave of the hand that brought him drinks, aristocratic diva seemed more fitting.

His demanding character became clear when his hands set on your waist, immediately fingering the seam of your jeans, pulling you more into him by the belt loops.

You followed that tug, though Bard deepened the kiss to keep you by him, his tongue exploring your mouth and enticing you to breathlessly moan against his smiling lips.

Despite the loud music, Thranduil's voice was loud in your ear.

"As stunning as you right now, I can not help but imagine you squirming on our silk sheets– moving those bewitching hips of yours," Thranduil playfully took the burning tip of your ear into his mouth, "If you want to follow this invitation, of course"

"Whatever you just said," Bard broke away from you to look over your shoulder at his husband, "It better have been the idea of finally getting out of here" he pushed his hips against yours for you to feel the hard outline of him, "because I don't want to wait til the ball drops"

"Is that a metaphor?"

"Thran–" There was a warning edge in Bard's voice, and you felt Thranduil huff.

"Funny, how this old man can not take a joke as soon as he is aroused"

It's absurd how casually he said this while his hands slid down the front of your jeans, earning himself a gasp from you.

Unashamed as a man only his status can be, he toyed with the seam of your underwear, not caring one bit for the glare of his husband.

Your body arched into him, answering the question he had whispered earlier.

The only thing keeping you from getting down on your knees to worship him and his obviously talented fingers was the blaring music, reminding you that you were not yet somewhere private and very much on display.

You briefly wondered if these two were rich enough to simply pay their way out of a public indecency arrest. You wouldn't be surprised if they wouldn't even get arrested.

Since Thranduil made no sign of disengaging himself from you, you stepped away from him, right against Bard's chest.

"Shall we go? Your husband mentioned luxury sheets which I bet are more comfortable than a threesome on the dance floor"

The way out of the club presented itself as more difficult than you would have thought.

With Bard shoving a path through the dancing crowd in front of you, holding on to one hand, Thranduil breathing down your neck and you pausing now and again because "Oh my gosh, I love this song!" it took a lot longer than necessary.

Not that any one of you minded.

Lost in the mass of people shouting, dancing, and pushing you three closer together and the tequila in your bloodstream you ended up undulating to Nicki Minaj's 'Pound The Alarm' completely lost on the fact that both men had stopped to watch you.

The lights were colorful and sharp and in their hues, Bards and Thranduil's jawlines looked even sharper tinted red, blue, green, and whenever the disco ball flashed white across their faces the lust in their eyes caused shivers on every part of you.

Thranduil's hands moved to your lower abdomen, making it easy to grind against him as you raised your hands to Bard's strong shoulders.

Two huge pairs of hands gripped your waist from either side and held you steady and close to themselves, keeping everyone else from getting any nearer than they allowed.

"Fucking hell– Darlin' you drive me crazy!" Bard yelled over the music as you suddenly decided to drop down intact with the beat, dragging your nails over his torso.

You laughed, low and full-heartedly.

Coming up, his hands moved to the flushed skin that your shirt had revealed by riding up, holding you tight to sweep you away into a kiss.

One thigh, leather, and flexing muscles shoved itself between your thighs and you responded eagerly, grinding against it without a second thought.

Just when you thought you were ready to finally go, the song ended and faded into yet another pop hit. 'LoveGame' by Lady Gaga and intact of the low thumping beat, Thranduil's hips circle against your behind, pressing what was an impressive hardness into your arse while his deep voice switched from singing to humming the lyrics.

One of his hands spread over your abdomen, the other arm blindly reached for Bard and pulled him into a kiss right over your head.

Amid the mass of sweaty people and the multicolor array of colors flashing over Thranduil's blonde hair, the 2000s music blaring through the speakers and resonating in every cell of your fevered body, they looked hot enough for the porn industry to sign them under contract.

You were never making it out of the club.

You did make it out eventually, sweat dripping down your temple, Thranduil's chest in your back whenever you stumbled, his hands steadying you.

On what you assumed was an oversight or blind eye of the club owners the crowd had doubled in the last hour.

Far too many people joined the floor and even with Bard's commanding presence leading you it had been close to impossible to step forward and not swerve out of the way of someone drunk.

Outside, the line curved around the block, and those who waited or didn't get into the club or even just hung in groups celebrating on the streets blocked the whole sidewalk.

A number of fireworks were already soaring into the air, sent up there by early birds who couldn't wait until midnight – cheered up by loud excited screams and laughter as the dark night sky lit up here and there with colorful explosions.

Quite sobered up, the dancing had contributed to that, you stared at them.

"How the fuck are we supposed to get out of here?" you asked and crossed your arms in front of you; the winds were biting cold and you hadn't bothered bringing a jacket, "It's madness."

"We will just get a cab"

You barked out a laugh though Bard stayed completely serious.

"Wait, that wasn't a joke?" you rubbed your palms over the naked skin, still warm and thrumming with the afterglow of the unbearable heat of the club, although the cold fought hard and unfairly.

"No, sweetheart, it wasn't," Thranduil said, not bothered by the chaos of people pushing each other, waving their hands like they're trying to flag down a spaceship.

On this day, the chances for that to happen were more likely than actually getting a cab.

He took one step into the busy street, and you yelped, overcome by the shock that he just walked into fucking traffic, his long ponytail swaying with his steps.

Then, like movie magic, a car swerved to the side and stopped right next to Thranduil.

Bard pulled you along, your hand cradled to his chest so as not to lose you. Thranduil opened the door, gracefully sitting down behind the empty passenger seat.

You stumbled onto the back seat next to him, and mumbled a half-hearted "Hello" to the driver, who gave you a nod – a nod, an hour before midnight, from a cap driver, fucking miracles– before shut the plastic window close.

"Holy crap," you exhaled. "Is this what the high life's like? Getting drinks and cabs without any fucking effort?"

Despite the crude and cutting words swinging in their direction, Bard and Thranduil chuckled. The synchronized deep sound reverberated in the quiet cab, warming up the space instantly.

"Do you really think that this" – Thranduil languidly gestures to all of him – "takes no effort?"

Bard huffed. He leaned into you as if he wanted to whisper a secret, but didn't lower his voice: "We were supposed to be here five hours ago. Took him that long to figure out what to wear." He shot a teasing grin at his husband.

"Oh, I have had enough of your whining," In one elegant movement Thranduil folded one long leg over the other. The point of his boot caught your shin in a soft tap that drew your attention to him.

He smirked, one eyebrow raised. "If you are interested, though, I could show you what it is like to ride the waves of the high life"

"Is that a metaphor?"

"No," Bard's lips ghosted over your neck, peppering more kisses to the skin there, "A promise for an unforgettable high"

You were unable to think of what they could propose.. well, you could, but they wouldn't, not here in this cap, right?

Bard's legs were spread a little far apart and, fuck, the flickering lights of the city flying by highlighted a very prominent bulge that he made no effort of hiding. Was he going commando?!

Your eyes snapped back, burning a hole into the roof of the cab.

A hand fell behind you on the headrest at the same moment as Thranduil's cold fingers slipped onto your thigh.

Thranduil's hand snuck to your jeans and played with the button and zipper before,

Oh-

he opened your jeans and immediately slid his cold, long, slender fingers down your panties.

Oh, fuck

Your hips twitched into his hand and you had to bite down on your finger to muffle the gasp that itched behind your teeth.

Without a care in the world, Thranduil cupped your sex, mumbling something to himself under his breath that sounded like a "So fucking wet- for us?" and worked his middle finger into you.

Pulling it out again, he started circling your clit, smearing your own slick over it, moving right over the spot where your nerve endings were sparking white and hot and you shuddered uncontrollably.

The chill of his fingertips heightened your sensitivity. Still flushed all hot from the club, you instinctively arched upward, a soft gasp escaping your lips as Thranduil's fingers tapped against your swollen wet clit.

The noise prompted his gaze to lock onto yours.

Your gasp broke off as your hips nearly flew off the seat and it was only for the belt snapping tightly against your lower abdomen that your head didn't make contact with the roof.

That, and the arm Bard put around your shoulders. He held you down and gave you his biceps to let your head fall against something that wasn't the uncomfortable seatrest.

Your cheeks flushed under Thranduils scrutiny, as well as at the general scene and obscenity of everything, and a subtle smirk played on his lips.

"Do you enjoy that?" His voice was flirty, and while you want to retort that it should be very clear how much you liked his fingers fucking into you, you only managed a nod.

"Say it." He leaned forward, a teasing glint in his eyes. His fingers stopped, clearly waiting for you to obey his order. "Use your words, you still know how, right? I haven't even started, clearly there must be something you could tell me."

"Yes," your admission was barely a whisper, but it sufficed.

Thranduil hummed, using his other hand to open your legs as wide as the tight jeans allowed it before he worked two agile fingers into your throbbing cunt.

You stared at him through half-lidded eyes, watching his relaxed demeanor while fingering you open without caring about anything else.

The heel of his hand pressed into your pelvis, giving him a reasonably steady hold in the jolting cab so that he could hit a spot inside you with precision and with every, goddamn, perfect, thrust of his fingers that made you pant out.

"Thran-" the nickname you heard Bard call him slipped out unconsciously, it's the only thing you could pull out of the depth of your mind, "Thran.. please"

"Beggin' already?" Bard chuckled, "Darlin' you have seen nothing yet and here you are, beggin' to cum in the back of a cab."

"Bard you have no idea how fucking wet she is. She's dripping down my hand, squeezing my fingers, and fuck she's so tight," Thranduil muttered and as he slipped his other hand to the one slipping and sliding against your g-spot in a maddening relentless rhythm, he rubbed them over your folds.

He collected some of your wetness on those fingers, circling your clit again before pulling them away, out of your pants, and to your horror, he held them up into the air, inspecting how his fingers glistened in the city lights.

He rubbed them together, all right in the view of the rear back mirror of the cab driver, who – thank god – kept his eyes on the road and only turned up the radio in unspoken ignorance of what was happening in his car.

God, you hoped these men would tip him adequately.

"Here," Thranduil reached his arm out past your half-opened lips and for a moment you thought he was going to offer you his fingers, but he leaned further forward.

A gasp broke out of you as you watched Bard open his mouth and greedily took both fingers right between his lips, and.. sucked.

His eyes fell shut with a contented sigh as if he were tasting his favorite drink.

You saw his tongue run thoroughly over Thranduil's patiently waiting fingers, cleaning them off every last bit of you, and god, you wanted to be those fingers so damn bad at that moment.

Then he looked at you again. There was such a deep hunger in those eyes that would look beautifully between your legs, brown hair falling messily into his sight as he ate you out.

Meanwhile, Thranduil's fingers inside you moved harder and faster, curling to brush every sensitive spot of your walls, in, out, in, another curl, and then out.

You clenched your entrance in anticipation, the feeling of two of his fingers filling you this deliciously and continuously.

You were so so close, almost there–

"Shit, you're the sweetest. I think I'll eat you for breakfast tomorrow"

The abrupt halt of the cab barely registered for you; instead, it finally propelled you over the edge.

Thranduil's precise movement hit that spot inside you perfectly, crooking his fingers just right to brush against it. Combined with Bard's downright filthy promise, you nearly let out a scream as the powerful orgasm surged through you and you had to flex your muscles so you didn't continue riding his hand.

Thranduil, however, didn't stop, even though there was no way he didn't know you climaxed and he kept up the same pace, same fucking precision and pressure that your body convulsed around those long talented fingers and you couldn't even go anywhere, the seatbelt cut off your escape to the front and you were so far into the seat that wasn't an option as well, and it took a soft broken whimper, for words were long lost, for Thranduil to press a kiss to your neck before he sucked his fingers dry.

Your legs were still shaking as the elevator took you up to the penthouse at the top of the skyscraper the cab had stopped in front of.

Four mirrors gave you a splendid view of Bard's broad back as he crowded you against one of the walls, his thick fingers down your jeans again, as he mouthed hot kisses onto your neck.

"Gonna have to work you open," Bard grunted, his slippery fingers curling inside your cunt in a sinful squelch that sounded absurdly loud in the confined space of the elevator. "You're really too tight, don't wanna hurt you"

Thranduil watched the whole scene leaning at the railing, hands curled around the pole behind him as his hips twitched whenever you let out another whimper; your hands trying to get a hold on his husband's shoulders.

The ride was far too short, Bard's fingers not fast enough for you to reach another peak though the constant movement kept your head in such a nice empty mindless space that you didn't complain.

As soon as the doors opened Thranduil led the way, sauntering into the darkness illuminated by the first exploding fireworks. He pulled on the tie holding his hair up and flung it away let his hair flow down his back, ending just barely over his exquisite arse.

You didn't get to see much of the penthouse, all three of you were very eager to take this party finally somewhere comfortable and you only made out a giant white couch in front of a fireplace, an open kitchen with two glasses, one crystal with golden stains of whiskey, and the other high, the rim still dripping red wine, and a few bookshelves.

"You can get the full tour tomorrow," Bard said while you two kicked away your shoes, leaving them behind on the dark wooden parquet.

You stumbled over his left sneaker and halted in your tracks at the offer. While you had considered his promise of breakfast a spur-of-the-moment chit-chat, it now settled in your head that this wouldn't be like any one-nightstand you had in the past.

This observation only solidified as Bard caught your hand and raised it to press an open-mouthed kiss to your palm. "Do you need anything before we go into the bedroom? Any wishes or no-gos? Safeword?"

"Red," you immediately answered, and he nodded in acknowledgment, "and no, well– maybe hold me a bit afterward?" You blushed at the question though this should be the least embarrassing thing after all these two did to you in the span of a few hours. You continued to ramble, "And sometimes I cry, so.. you don't have to stop then. Sometimes I'm overwhelmed but you can continue your.. thing. Don't bother, I'll be fine on my own–"

Bard's eyebrows scrunched together the more you babbled, the look in his eyes becoming more confused until he shushed you with a quick kiss.

"Darlin', there is no need to explain what you want or don't want. If this is what you need then we won't question those demands," his eyes wandered over your face, making sure you were listening; which you were, heart pounding fast in your chest.

"And it's important you don't push yourself just because of us. It's not our intention to use you for a simple release. Thranduil and I don't take whoever is the first best, especially not to our home. We're looking for someone who suits us, with whom we feel completely comfortable and that should also be equally important to you."

You trusted them both, Bard as well as Thranduil.

The fact that Bard was asking you, nevertheless listening and responding to you was feeding something very primal.

They had done this before, unlike you. They had experience in this, but you were willing to learn, to submit yourself to these imposing men who surely would change something inside you forever.

The pride you felt at his admission of choosing you specifically mingled with the need to get this perfect man inside you quickly, especially now that he said such meaningful and reassuring words.

You nodded and croaked out a soft: "Alright, then please hold me after we're done" which he rewarded with another soft yet sensual kiss.

"Good girl"

Then his hands traveled south and slapped your ass so that your hips flew towards him.

"Now, let's not keep Thran waiting any longer. He tends to get a bit… impatient if left on his own for too long, as you've probably noticed."

Bratty.

You were so on the money earlier.

With that as well as the guess that the blonde was more kinky than the vanilla of his perfume.

At that moment the deep voice of his called out from down the hall.

"I swear, if you two started without me, I will fuck you until neither of you can walk for a week!"

Bard chuckled, then caught your widened eyes.

"He's joking," he said and you let out a relieved breath.

Bard pulled you along, a wink thrown over his shoulder.

"Mhm, partly; he won't fuck me tonight."

You needed a deep breather to ready yourself for what was about to happen, then you nearly tripped over your own feet as you raced after him through the dark hallway and to the only opened door.

You crashed fully into Bard, who for whatever reason, stood right in the doorframe of their bedroom.

"It seems Thranduil got tired of waiting," he chuckled and you wondered what he could mean when he turned sideways.

Your eyes instantly fell onto Thranduil, spread out on the enormous bed in the corner of the room– completely naked except for black, very tight boxers.

There was no air in your lungs, not a single breath left to take as you drank in the sight of him, fair and marble skin shining in the moonlight that fell through the big window next to the bed; the remaining glitter gave his body an unearthly glow. His hair fanned out all over the pillows, silver against grey, moving with him as he lazily lifted his head to stare at you.

There was an indescribable beauty in this man, he could lounge in the bed, his long legs opened in an invitation that you yearned to take, and his lean yet softly defined body posed as if he was waiting for someone to draw him.

"There you are," the corner of his mouth twitched into his smirk, "Strip"

His words, spoken in a gentle tone, boomed loud in your ears.

Your hands flew to your jeans in no second, though they were stopped by Bard, who covered them with his larger, rougher ones.

"No, Darlin', let me"

He stood behind you, taking over the job of undressing you. He did it much slower than you would have, not ripping everything apart in a hurry to obey the command of the blonde whose eyes were heavy on your body, taking in every bit of skin that got revealed.

Bard unbuttoned your jeans first, then his large and warm hands rubbed over your arms.

"Are you cold, sweetheart?"

You shook your head. "No, not cold. I– I feel like I'm burning up"

It was the truth, and nothing but the full, honest truth; you felt as hot as you did in the club, though the reason wasn't the hundreds of people and the alcohol but rather the sight of Thranduil, whose hands trailed over his own body and teasingly played with the waistband of his underwear.

Bard followed your fixated gaze to his coyly smiling husband.

"Should we turn down the heating? We would not want you melting away," Thranduil blinked his long lashes at you in faux-concern. He must've known the goosebumps covering your skin were his doing.

You would've rolled your eyes if you were able to look somewhere else than Thranduil. The man had to be magical, how else could you explain the spell he put you under if not for some supernatural powers?

"Stop the teasing, Thran," Bard cut in, slipping his hands under your shirt and kissing your shoulder. You melted into his touch, comforted that he took care of you like this when he continued, "This poor sweet thing hasn't even all her clothes off. It would be a shame to make her blush like this and not see it"

"Oh, and who's fault is that? Certainly not mine, I have been waiting so long I was close to wrapping things up myself"

Bard pulled your shirt over your head, covering your sight long enough for a wave of braveness to surge through you. "I sure hope you wrap it up," you said and heard both of them snicker.

"Do not worry," Thranduil began.

"There is enough protection for weeks," Bard finished and the band of your bra snapped against your skin.

Despite the warmness of the room your nipples puckered as soon as the lace fell away, growing hard under the avid eyes, cerulean and green, so different yet similar in the way both are dominated by the blackness of their pupils.

Bard's hands came up to your front and he cupped your breasts first tenderly, mapping out how perfectly they fit into his large palm, then rougher as his fingers found the hard buts of your nipples and rubbed them between them until every pinch had your legs trembling and you whimpering.

You cried out, body bucking on its own.

"Oh how nice," Thranduil's comment was full of sarcasm, followed by a click of his tongue against teeth, "Why, let me lay here and play all on your own, why not? After all, I am nothing but pure decoration"

Bard huffed a puff of hot air onto you, "Grow a pair of tits like this and maybe I will get to you first"

Thranduil's dark eyebrows raised to his hairline, passing an unspoken threat that had Bard scoff before he grabbed the waistband of your jeans. He pulled them down slowly, getting on his knees as he did and you were acutely aware of how wet your panties were when you feel his lips kiss your ass.

"This must be uncomfortable," he murmured, holding one leg to help you step out of the jeans. He kneaded your thigh, fingertips against muscles and flesh, before moving on to do the same on your other leg.

He used the moment where you lifted the second leg, to dive his hand to your cunt again, dragging his knuckles over the dark-colored patch, and he laughed as you buckled into the touch. "Oh, the fun we'll have"

Finally, undressed to your panties that cling to your crotch like a second skin, you were free to walk toward the bed. You would've lied if you said you didn't swing your hips a little bit, relishing the raspy groan this evoked from Bard.

Feeling like you should await further commands you stopped (un)patiently when your knees hit the mattress.

Thranduil's lips curved into a devilish smirk at this sign of submission.

He let his legs fall open wider, waving in an elegant gesture into the space in between. "Come here, sweetheart"

The bed was raised and you rose to your tiptoes and, making sure your eyes were trained on Thranduil, you crawled over the mattress, knees digging into the silk duvet he had promised you.

He reached out as soon as he could, one hand curving around your neck to pull and you landed directly on him, legs spread on either side of his thighs, hands somehow, despite their nervous trembling, found their place against his collarbones, standing out from his broad chest rather delicate.

Not that you hadn't suspected and expected him to be big, but, fuck, he was long and hard, a pulsing pressure against your stomach.

"Be a good girl and remove this unnecessary fabric, will you?" Thranduil whispered and you scrambled to lose your panties, throwing them off into the distance only to turn again and find him smirking. "I meant my boxers, but it fills me with joy seeing you this eager"

Lowering your head to hide your laughter, you grabbed his boxers. He lifted his hips just barely for you to pull on the black boxers, rolling them over his tight ass, and after giving you a loving pat on the head, he crossed his arms behind his head, relaxing into the pillows.

His cock sprung free from the containment of the tight boxers, twitching as it hit his abdomen and you felt your throat dry out.

Of course, he was smooth everywhere; not one bit of hair covering the flushed beauty of him.

You sat up, hands pushed into his flexing thighs, to take him all in. No one should look this perfect, this utterly ridiculously beautiful, right? There should be something on him, a scar, a mole, anything to prove he wasn't straight-up carved out of marble, but you found nothing.

You glared at him as you sat down a bit lower, ass in the air, and spit into your hand before you wrapped it around his cock. The sight of his size had your mouth water, and seeing how your fingers couldn't meet had your cunt clench around nothing.

No way any of their preparation had been enough for this intimidating masterpiece of Mother Nature's creation.

"Tell me, how is it fair that you are rich and have a dick like that?" you asked and just as Thranduil opened his pretty lips for probably another witty answer, you interrupted him by letting his cock slide over your tongue deep into your throat until you gagged around him.

Whatever he wanted to say was forgotten.

Instead, Thranduil groaned a low: "Fuck" and threw his head back.

You wanted to see him come undone, to unravel him until he lost this bratty attitude and reduce him to that wild behavior he had shown in the club.

You had the feeling that that's only possible if he thought he had the upper hand.

You bobbed your head, taking him a bit past what you could manage without gagging before lifting your head again.

"Use me," you said and his eyes flew open.

"What?"

Cocking your head, you shot him a confused look, while spreading his precum over the head of his cock with your thumb. "I said," – you spit again, mixing it and coating his dick further – "Fuck - my - mouth"

Every word was punctuated with a kiss to his slit, and you swore you could see his eyes darken further; black taking over blue – desire fought whatever held him back to fucking give into whatever you offered.

Behind you, Bard swore nearly breathlessly: "Fuck me" though you stayed focused on Thranduil.

"Are you sure?" his voice was raw, his facade of composure cracking ever so slightly.

"Wouldn't ask if I wasn't"

His hand was behind your head in seconds, drawing you down his cock again and you opened your mouth wide to not hurt him. He pushed you down until you choked on him and although your eyes watered, you couldn't take them away from the sight of his mouth and the low throaty groans that passed the opened lips.

The lack of air cut off your moan, the tip of his cock bullying the back of your throat just barely short of painful. Reminding yourself to breathe through your nose, you inhaled deeply.

"Good girl," Thranduil's hips bucked, pulling back until he was only half-lodged in your throat, "Just like that, fuck"

He gave an experimental thrust, keeping his sharp eyes on you, his hand in your neck, ready to stop if he saw any discomfort, but all you showed him was how you choked on spit and salty precum.

"Oh, you sweet girl. Behaving so well," his voice was ruined, and he thrusted again, punching away the little breath left in the tiniest space that wasn't occupied by his thick cock.

This was by far the first time you have ever given a blowjob, but it was a first to let someone use you like this. Controlling when you could suck or when you just had to take what he gave you.

And oh– how much you loved it.

So much that you wanted to rub your thighs together only to be stopped by rough hands grabbing them.

A confused sound left you, no more than a choked "Huh?" vibrating around Thranduils cock continuing to fuck into you, just like you had asked him, hindering you from turning to see what Bard was up to.

He didn't leave you wondering for long, just as Thranduil's thrusts took on a sharper edge, hitting the back of your throat every time, filling your mouth like no man ever had, Bard's flattened tongue licked through your exposed cunt and the moan you let out sounded so pornographic you surprised yourself.

"Do it again," Thranduil took in the sight of your wet lips, the drool dripping out of the corners of your mouth, his cock disappearing so deep inside you that felt him in your lungs, "Fuck, Bard, do that again now!–"

He talked for you, praising Bard as he licked your pussy again, this time using his fingers to pry you open further and there was the delicious scratch of his beard stubbles, burning on your skin.

You cried out, tried to do, stopped by Thranduils cock stuffing your mouth again and again, his hands curled around your neck as if he wanted to feel the imprint of himself pushing through.

"Prettiest woman out there," Thranduil groaned. His thump reached over to stuff some of the spit back into your mouth, opening your jaw up impossibly wide.

Bard's tongue was as precise as their fingers have been, covering your folds, fucking into your hole and sucking on your clit with expertise that no man should be allowed to have. Two of his wet fingers slid into you while his tongue mercilessly attacked your clit, the other hand buried itself in the soft flesh of your ass, kneading and pulling, opening you up further for his face.

"C'mon," his voice was muffled by your thighs, drowning you in his accent while he drowned his tongue inside your opening, circling the rim in maddening figures, "Give me one more, gorgeous."

Electricity flowed through your body, hot tingles of nothing but fire spreading into your fingertips wrapped around the inches of Thranduil's cock that didn't fit into your mouth, to your nipples that brushed against his muscular thighs.

"Fuck Bard, please–"

Not sure what you were begging for, for his tongue to stop the attack on your clit, for his fingers constantly finding that spot inside your spongy walls that had you wailing and rolling your hips into his face, or for him to get on with it and get you over that build-up.

Bard kept going, somehow finding a rhythm that matched the one his husband hammered down your throat and you were helplessly stuck trying to hold on.

Until you lost the fight to keep yourself upright. Your hands slipped on Thranduil's thighs, your body crashed down and if it wouldn't have been for his quick reaction of pulling himself out of you, you would for sure have impaled your head on his still hard and throbbing cock.

Instead, it just wetly slapped your face as you collapsed into his lap.

Bard's rough hands grip your thighs, blunt nails digging into soft flesh as he maneuvered your legs around to give his head more space.

The other pair of hands, soft, delicate, Thranduil's, cupped your face, lifting it gently yet demanding, giving him the perfect view of your cute face, all scrunched up as you gasped and mewled, and your backside, ass arched into the air under Bard's commanding hands.

"Such a beautiful thing," Thranduil mused.

His fingers danced over your cheeks until he used another whine, another desperate moan when Bard alternated between open-mouthed, sloppy kisses and using the point of his tongue, to slip his thumb into your mouth.

As soon as he did, you closed your lips around him. Staring up at him, begging him silently for a release only Bard could give you, you started sucking on his finger as you would have done on his cock if not for the stars dancing in your field of vision.

Thranduil tutted, "So needy as well. Bard, if you were so kind as to stop, I can not stand seeing her this distraught. I think you are working her up far too much"

"Nooo! Please, please, I'm alright, I'm– please, so close," The desperate scream that came out of your mouth at his words was probably loud enough to alert the neighbors, followed by a cry and sob as Bard kissed your clit one last time.

"Of course, babe" The words were muffled, spoken directly into your dripping cunt.

Which he then shuffled away from, beard stubble scratching you, his fingers letting loose on your thighs.

"No, no please, please," you were already babbling, reaching behind you in a sad effort to force him back between your legs, "Please, I'll be good, please!"

"You sweet thing," Thranduils arms wrapped around your middle, pulling you up into a kiss, "I think–" his voice dropped deeper and you heard the rustle of plastic, felt Bard's hand rolling the condom over Thranduil's cock pressing into your stomach, "–you have behaved so well, you deserve a reward"

You nodded fast, legs spread wide apart sitting on his thighs and your cunt stretched open.

Staring into his eyes, you saw how much his pupils were dilated, how he only watched you, only saw you.

You could see and feel his chest lift as his cock slid through your folds, finding you drenched from all their playing around.

"Eyes stay on me"

Your pussy was wet enough for the tip of his cock to slip right into you and right away you wanted to shut your eyes at the sensation of him spearing you open.

"Please–," you gasped, and tried to move your hips to get more of him into you than just those few inches, but he didn't budge, didn't loosen his grip on your waist, "Please, Thranduil. Green, my color is green, fuck me, I can take it!"

"Yes, and if not," his voice was back to the self-controlled powerful tone, "I'll make you take it, sweetheart."

Thranduil let go of you the second he snapped his hips upwards and suddenly, you were split open.

You keened as his cock sunk into you in one fast, swift, hard movement. There was a burn, in your thighs as you flexed them, in your throat as you cried out, in your pussy at the intrusion of his long cock.

When Thranduil bottomed out, his head shoved against your cervix, the whole length forcing you to stretch, to make room, and fuck you wanted your pussy to be carved into the shape of that perfect cock.

It should've been uncomfortable, but you only groaned as you appreciated the second he gave you to relax while making room where they shouldn't be some.

"Fuck–" he moaned, "you are tight, so fucking tight"

Bard moved next to you, and you could only get one short look at his naked body, the brown hair coating his muscular chest, the happy trail leading down to his thick cock, before Thranduil began to fuck you.

His strokes were fast, hips snapping into you and nearly throwing you off his lap at the speed and brute force and you fell into his chest, clinging to his arms.

This, him rutting into you like your pussy could quench a year-long thirst at a punishing pace, this was surely the epitome of getting fucked. How he knew how to fuck you just right, hitting your g-spot with every single thrust was a riddle you couldn't and wouldn't want to solve; not with his cock penetrating you hard enough you swore you felt him in your throat as you called for him through moans.

You had no chance of even trying to meet his thrusts, not while he pounded into you like a madman.

"F-Fuck, good fucking girl– so tight," Thranduil groaned out his gritted teeth, his face turning a beautiful shade of rosé, "Even tighter than you, Bard–"

Bard, you totally forgot he was even there, laughed and moved on the bed again, slipping back behind you, "Yeah? Tell me more"

And you wanted to scream, to yell at them to stop talking in words that only added to the overstimulation, that spun around your head without meaning because how could anything have ever any meaning more important that Thranduil's cock fucking you a little further, a little deeper.

"So tight, s-so hot, clamping down on me like this sweet, fuck, pussy doesn't want me to leave"

"Mhm, I can see that," Bard hummed and his hands caressed your shaking thighs, before leaving his mark on your ass with a soft slap that had you wailing into Thranduil's shoulder.

It was too much and not enough at the same time.

You were going to lose your mind like this, fucked to near-unconsciousness.

"More, I–" your speech was slurred, brain scrambled into loose words hanging onto thin threads.

You tried to hold on to Thranduil but it was impossible with your sweat and the glitter covering him.

Luckily for you, Bard found the time to stop ever kindly toying with the pearl of your clit to lean forward.

"Put them inside his hair, Darlin'. He doesn't mind" There was a lopsided smirk on his face that you could barely see out of the corners of your eyes.

You still hadn't stopped looking at Thranduil.

The attempt to tentatively guide your hands to his head was prevailed by another particular hard thrust, and your fingers slid through blonde locks, grabbing onto them as you fell back down on Thranduil's cock.

You tugged on them much harsher than intended.

Thranduil's eyes blew wide.

You wanted to apologize when his lips quivered and his hips snapped into yours even faster.

Quickly you reached for him again, nails scraping his scalp as you readjusted, gripping more, much tighter.

"That's it, Darlin'.. that's my girl," Bard leaned back, and not shortly after his fingers were back on your clit, tapping intact of Thranduil's thrusts.

It was only a matter of seconds until the pleasure became too much.

Thranduil's hips fell into a stutter as your walls clenched around him; even for someone with his stamina the heat of you surrounding him, and your sweet moans drove him into a raging need to imprint the shape of his cock inside you.

"F-fuck.. Thran–" you whimpered, hands fisting his hair, trying to get a literal grip as reality started to shift around you.

Outside, close to the windows, there was a whistle as the first of many fireworks greet the New Year and just as Thranduil pushed you over the edge, your whole body shaking and tensing up as you screamed his name, the darkness of the sky exploded into an arrangement of thousands of colors.

The white fuzziness that enveloped your vision transformed into creeping darkness at the edges.

Your eyelids closed shut as you descended into blissful oblivion.

When you came back to yourself, it was to the murmur of deep voices mixed into the loud bangs of fireworks.

For a moment you had no idea where you were, enveloped in a haziness inside your mind, but the gentle nudge of something against your lips forced you to open your eyes.

There were two faces very close to yours, was the first realization.

Then, following up, you let out a giggle.

"Don't look so concerned, I'm fine," you greedily took a sip from the water bottle that the very flushed blonde held in his hands.

"You said it was possible you would cry, not bloody pass out on Thran's dick!" Bard wiped the drops you couldn't swallow away from the corner of your mouth with one hand and continued to rub your thighs with his others.

You hadn't noticed they were still shaking.

"Yeah, that never happened before," you shot a smirk up to Thranduil, "Never had a guy fuck me like this as well"

He snorted into the bottle of water, "Believe me, I never had someone lose their consciousness on me before as well. I came shortly after you and when I opened my eyes to find you completely out of it I nearly passed out on the spot as well"

"Would have been quite a shock for you," you said and let your head fall to the side to look at Bard, "both of us orgasm into fainting"

"Not funny, Darlin'," Bard warned, though he laughed as you stuck his tongue out at him.

Stretching your hands over your head and raking them into the air until your bones cracked, you sighed happily. Blissfulness was all you felt after cumming harder than you ever had.

For the first time, you could really enjoy the sight of both men in the nude, you hadn't had the chance to appreciate how fit Bard was while Thranduil had fucked you and you reached out to run your hands over his chest. Twirling some of the hair on there, traveling lower to scratch nails down his happy trail like a route description straight to his still-hard cock.

Stopping shortly before his pubic hair, you glanced up at him, a coy smile playing your lips. "You haven't cum yet." It was much a purr as it was an invitation, your legs falling open right when Bard's hand came to a still on your thighs.

He shook his head, chestnut hair swaying with the movement. "No, Darlin', no! You just passed out. I won't force myself on you. Thran can suck me off or I'll take care of it myself if you want to rest"

Your heart contracted in adoration for this man, and an embarrassing amount of slick gushed out of you.

"Bard," you said, voice wavering as you suppressed a whimper. Somehow this turned you on even more, "Bard, there is enough time to be this caring later but please–" Once again you were begging, and the man wasn't even inside of you yet, "please fuck me"

On the other side of you, Thranduil chuckled, "Insatiable, I knew it. Bard is right though, if you are not well, then he can fuck me"

Slowly but surely you were losing your patience.

As sweet as their concern was, the fact that these two gods were both sitting naked in front of you, one sweaty because he just knocked you out, and the other hard as steel and flushed, only aroused that much more.

Without saying anything else, you maneuvered yourself in the bed until you could rest your head on Thranduil's stretched legs and angled your legs in an invitation.

"Come on you stud. It's the new year after all"

The brunette scanned you with a piercing gaze, you could see him struggling with himself, but the twitch of his cock told you what he'd decided before he nodded.

"Thran, condom please"

You giggled again, excitement and the need to be catapulted to new heights spreading warmly in your stomach.

As Bard put the condom on, you wiggled around, your hand on the move to beat time, but Thranduil reached over you.

He caught your wrist before you reached your center, grasping it with his much larger hand and pulling your arm back with him enough that it forced your shoulders up, a "Tze, tze, tze" admonishing the behavior.

"Impatient brat, make up your mind!" he hissed and tugged some more until you whined, "Feel free to use those pathetic little fingers, knowing they will never fill you the way Bard could" Now that Thranduil knew you were on the same page, his voice dropped into that rebuking tone that left you whining and pouting.

He was so good, so fucking mean in the right amount you never knew you needed a man to act in bed.

"I just wanted–"

"I know baby," he cooed, and patted your cheek, "you just need your cunt to be filled, right? Just need to be stuffed full. Bard will do that for you, no need to worry your pretty head about it"

"That's right, Darlin'," Bard shuffled in between your legs, hooking them both over his thighs as he leaned over you. His cock landed on your abdomen, pressing against your pulsating clit, "Tell me what you want," he grabed himself, guiding it slowly toward where you leaked for him, completely drenched from the orgasms they had already given to you.

"I can go slow, or I can go fast"

You contemplated for a moment and lift the free hand to stroke over his handsome face. His beard tickled the inside of your palm, the chestnut waves silky as the sheets.

"Slow," you whispered, "I want you slow first"

"Alright," he gently nudged his nose against yours before capturing your lips in a kiss.

Although you were still sensitive, still pulsing and throbbing due to Thranduil (who caressed your face and your neck, having let to of your hand to arrange the pillows in his back for more comfort), you relished the stretch and sting of Bard as he guided his cock into you.

He was thicker than Thranduil, not by much but that inch made itself known, splitting you open heavenly so. You gasped into the kiss, giving up the fight of tongues to swallow back the drool that collected the further Bard pushed inside you.

It's just a little bit, one inch at a time, but you cried out all the same.

The thrum of excitement pulses, leaves you trembling and begging in incoherent moans and whimpers.

You could feel him throbbing inside you.

"Good girl," Thranduil's praise washed over you, chilled fingers tweaking one of your nipples as a reward for the exhausted smile you gifted him at that, "Has anyone ever told you that you make just the sweetest sounds? Give me one more?"

He twisted your other nipple; you moaned again.

"Fuck, Thran, you were so right," Bard grunted, his fingernails digging into where he held you by the waist, leaving crescent moon-shaped imprints that you hoped wouldn't fade for a while, "She's fuckin' tight; how are you still this tight?"

"For you," you fisted your hands into his hair again, hoping he enjoyed it just as much as his husband, "J-just for you, everything, ngh– for you"

With one last push, he sheated himself in you completely, filling you up just like Thranduil told you he would, stretching your walls thin.

You felt him everywhere, in every part of your body.

Every nerve, every tendon, every cell burns and was lit aflame, sizzling hot fire licking your skin and bursting when he dragged himself out, leaving barely the tip and pushed back in.

His cock nestled deep inside you, Bard stilled.

There was a silent vigilance in his mesmerizing green eyes. "Talk to me beautiful, is this alright?"

You nodded and pulled him down on his hair into another kiss. "Yes, god, yes"

That's all he needed to hear and while licking over your lips, entangling your tongue with his playfully, he set a slow rhythm. Nevertheless the tempo, he brushed that spot inside you with every stroke.

Pins and needles all over your skin, goosebumps wherever Thranduil's fingers wandered.

There were more fireworks, lightening up the bedroom filled with gasps and grunts, whispers of encouragement and begging. The sound of Bard's hips snapping into yours, the wet squelch of his cock driving itself inside of your pussy again and again.

"There we go," he murmured and positioned his arms on either side of you, using the balance it gives him to roll his hips instead of just thrusting. Mumbling between kisses, he talked against your lips: "Aren't you just the sweetest? Darlin', I couln' believe my eyes when I saw you in that club, shining far brighter than anyone else"

He swallowed your gasps with kisses, nipping at your lip then moved to your earlobe, "You are so perfect, letting us fuck you like this"

In one swift movement, he dragged Thranduil towards him, long blonde hair curling at the edges hanging into your vision in a starlight waterfall. Their kiss left you breathless and you would have felt left out if Thranduil didn't lean down further to you, kissing your lips upside down.

This time it was his fingers that found your slick, poor and abused clit. A couple of firm circles had your hips bucking up to meet Thranduil's fingers, crying out for both men in a mix of their names.

You whimpered as the next orgasm build up fucking fast, your breath catching in your throat.

"Bard," your hips moved on their own, trying to get him to fuck you faster, "Please– more, I need m-more,"

"Darlin'," Bards forehead pressed against yours, his grunts strained as if he was holding back himself but kept the same and steady pace you asked him for, "You sure?"

Grabbing his hair again, you weaved your fingers through it, tousling it haphazardly, achieving nothing but adding to its wild appearance.

When you met his gaze again, his eyes were fixed on you, it felt electric and charged, akin to lightning, causing you to momentarily forget to breathe.

"Yes"

He obeyed instantly, with the next thrust you screamed at the pure force of it. Bard wa spiraling the same way you were, becoming erratic as his teeth grazed over your collarbone, biting every mark they have left on you.

Raising your legs to keep him close, your ankles locked behind his back, heels digging into the tight muscles of his ass. The new angle allowed him to drive impossibly deep, reaching pleasure points inside you you didn't knew existed before him.

The pleasure was blinding, high electricity running through your veins and into every part of your body and soul. This was nothing you have ever experienced before, not with anyone and they made sure it would never feel like this with anyone ever.

Bard, feeling how your walls clenched around him, fluttering and pulsating, begging him to stay inside, sucked on your nipple, hard.

"I need you to come, fuck. Let me feel this pussy come, I'm right there with you," he rasped, voice like gravel, leaving you to scream for him, head knocking into Thranduil's legs, who dared to add to the crescendo of your pleasure and pressed down on your clit.

You found yourself gripping the bed covers, fingers twisting, in an attempt to anchor yourself, sobbing and shaking.

Instead, the coil inside you snapped.

Soaking Bard's cock choking and sobbing, tears spilling out of the corners of your eyes as every limp of you tensed up, he pushed you over the edge, his moans in your ear the most erotic thing.

You felt Bard following you, felt him spilling inside the condom, his cock twitching inside of you as he reached his peak moaning and burying himself to the deepest point, hips flushed close against yours, still rolling and shoving into you.

Moments of silence and heavy breathing followed. Of broken sobs, hushed murmurs of praise, even more affirmations.

Thranduil scootched closer to you, laying down next to you while Bard's weight on top of you was just what you needed. The heaviness of his much larger frame and Thranduil's long arms wrapped around you held back the cold that threatened to take a hold of you as the shivers of pleasure subsided.

"Gods," Bard exhaled, chest moving, pressing more into you. "That was something"

"Happy New Year" Thranduil rumbled.

Minutes passed, more fireworks exploded, celebrations of the New Year while you weren't even sure you even knew what time was anymore.

Bard tried to move, though your legs must have cramped for they felt disconnected to your body.

"Darlin'," he dropped another kiss to your neck, laughing low as your head lolled to the side.

"Mhm-mhm," you groaned, eyes still shut close, "Stay"

His lips moved to your ear, continuing to bathe you in soft kisses that leave you floating in that blissful headspace. "I know, I know–"

Thranduil's hands cupped your face, caressing your glowing cheeks and wiped away the loose tears that rolled over them. "Aftercare first, then cuddling," he whispered and cradled your head, massaging the spot in your neck that started to ache after Bard had folded you in half.

Despite knowing he was right, that you needed to use the bathroom, the warmth their bodies provided held you back.

You whined, arching your back into Bard's chest as he pried your legs away and slowly pulled himself out of you, stopping when your hips twitched at the overstimulation and only continued after a soothing kiss.

As soon as he left to stand up, tying up the used condom and going into the ensuite bathroom, Thranduil's steady hands on your back helped you sit up on the edge of the bed, where he wrapped the covers around your shoulders and gently tapped your nose, before scratching his nails over your head.

"You did very well, sweetheart," One finger tipped your chin up. "Thank you, you are a wonderful partner."

Thranduil, crouched to your level in front of you, still naked as the day he was born, simply picked you up. Legs folded over one arm, your head fell against his glittery chest that was covered in red streaks of where your nails had scratched him.

"Come on, let's get you cleaned up"

The afterglow of the very much fantastic sex lulled all three of you in a comfort that blurred the barriers of you being a stranger in their home, laughter and giggles as the shower washed away sweat and glitter.

While there was a liveness to massaging soap into hair, hands rubbing away soreness and splashing water around until the mirror was all but fogged up and steam filled the entire bathroom, the exhaustion of the night caught up close after Thranduil dressed you in one of Bard's large sweaters.

Smelling like wood shavings, pine and toothpaste, hair still damp and eyes dropping close even though you tried to stay awake, Thranduil carried you to the bed.

The sheets were changed, encasing you in laundry detergent and brushing against your naked legs as you let yourself be placed on the pillows.

Outside, the world still celebrated and you did as well, in your own way.

There was a shuffle, a murmur of voices, then the bed dipped on either side as Bard climbed to your right side and Thranduil to your left, leaving not much room between all of you, legs entangling with each other, more giggling until everyone lied down comfortably.

Face tugged under Bard's chin, one arm of his reaching over your head so that Thranduil could nestle his face into it and the blonde wrapped around your back, you were surrounded by something you couldn't put into words.

"Maybe– maybe you can stay for breakfast and lunch," Bard's low words were murmured with a deep sigh, his other hand sliding down under his sweater, resting just below where your heart sung contenly.

"And dinner," Thranduil added and you heard him kiss Bard's hand.

"No talky-talky," you snuggled your face deeper into Bard, nose bumping into his neck, "But I would like that, very much"

Just as you fell asleep, held tightly by them both, you could hear them exchange quiet I love you's and you smiled, feeling their love seep deep into your bones.

[fortunxa]

Blue hair, blue eyes, blue lights

Jinx x fem!reader / modern AU

summary: The chances of a blue-haired girl being chased by the cops and hopping in my car, simply yelling “Drive!” are low, but never zero.

author’s note: It’s my first time publishing a Jinx one-shot of mine, I hope you enjoy! This is a relatively new blog, so if anyone wants to become mutuals I’m definitely open to the idea! :)

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Fourteen days.

A mere two weeks stand between me and move-in day for my freshman year of college. In other words, summer break is slowly coming to an end, and I’ve done fuck all to make it memorable.

I can feel life passing me by as I watch like a bystander. Usually, the clock is my enemy—a constant reminder of my youth running out, and, shit, I’m too young to feel that way. This time, it serves as a way to free me from the shackles of the evening shift as a front desk worker at our local gym.

The clock strikes midnight, and, like a modern-day Cinderella, I jump up from my seat and make a beeline for the exit, hurriedly clocking out. I simultaneously greet and say goodbye to the night shift going in, already halfway through the small yet relatively empty parking lot. The smell of sweaty ‘gym bros’ is long forgotten as the breeze engulfs me, my dirty sneakers thudding on the concrete. The rust on my beat-up jeep shines in the moonlight as I approach—so seductive, I snicker to myself. I toss my duffel bag in the trunk, hop behind the wheel, and start the engine. I take this moment to commence my connect-phone-to-car-or-die-trying mission and thank the universe for its successful outcome. I browse a bit through the plethora of playlists before settling on the usual one, the sound of Arctic Monkeys filling the space as I leave the parking lot.

I don’t want to go home—not yet, at least—so I settle for a late-night drive. The cookie-cutter, upper-class houses pass me by as I mindlessly cruise through the clean streets—a stark contrast to my neighborhood, where you either learn to stick up for yourself or go home crying to your mama. A place where there is more sewage sludge than trees. A place where I grew up and one I learned to love.

In the midst of it all, I don’t notice the particularly nasty bump on the road that makes my song abruptly cut off. I take a right, pulling over in an alley with an annoyed groan as I resort to phase two, also known as connect-phone-back-to-car-before-I-impulsively-crash, of my initial mission. As I fiddle with the settings, showing my inner cheek no mercy as my teeth dig into their feast, a hissing and spritzing sound comes through my open window.

I think I’m imagining things at first, that post-shift fatigue surely getting the best of me, but I spot the source of the sound rather quickly: a figure, hidden almost out of sight between the fancy houses, switching between various colors of spray paint as she defaces the picture-perfect facade with her graffiti. The sheer speed of her actions makes it look like she’s juggling.

How do I know it’s a girl? Well, although she is wearing a hat to shield her face from any surveillance cameras, a neck warmer up to her nose, and a black, oversized tracksuit already covered in pink paint splotches, her disguise was blown the moment she decided to leave her blue, ankle-length, twin braids out. I twist my neck and reach over the dashboard to try and get a better look at her work. I can barely make out the shape of a green monkey’s face before moving on to the next element. ‘Get ji-’

My reading is interrupted by the sound of sirens piercing the air and blue lights illuminating the area. Instinctively, I turn my headlights off and duck, watching the girl as she hastily packs the cans into her backpack. I swear I can see her eyes twinkle with excitement as she takes one last glance at her—presumably—finished artwork and takes off running through the gardens. Her faint giggle reaches my ears, and a bewildered smile graces my features. I wanted fun, and now it’s right in front of me. I definitely couldn’t get a clearer sign than this.

I observe as one of the cops chases after her as the other drives away, seemingly trying to cut her off. Lightbulb moment. I put the car into gear and waste no time following them from the comfort of the dark alleys, reaching the mysterious girl first through the shortcuts. I catch her contemplating her next move and, without hesitation, quickly flash my high beams at her twice. This seems to grab her attention, and I signal for her to get in with a simple nod, tapping the car door as confirmation.

To my surprise, she actually runs over and hops in the backseat, her back lying flat as she takes a swift peek through the window, and holy shit, I didn’t think that she actually would.

“Drive!” she yells through her panting, and I do. I feel my heart beating wildly against my ribcage as the blue lights appear once again in my rearview mirror. Don’t fuck this up, I think before taking a sharp left. I hear her elated squeals as I visualize the district’s roads and plan the perfect getaway.

Right.

Right, once again.

Left.

Straight down the street.

Sharp right.

I can hear the sirens getting closer as I speed through the familiar routes. It doesn’t matter that I know this area like the back of my hand; the cops probably do, too. There is only one thing left to try, and, albeit risky, it should work. They hadn’t spotted my car yet, and we were quickly approaching a busy intersection—the perfect distraction.

The tires squeak as I harshly pull into an empty driveway, turning the engine off in hopes of blending in.

“What the hell are you doing?!” the blue-haired girl grumbles with brooding eyes. I don’t reply. Instead, I shush her as I grab her waist and roll her off the seat, pushing her into the legroom before ducking underneath the steering wheel. We fall silent, holding our breaths in as the police car passes us by. I watch as they get lost in the dense traffic, a sigh of relief escaping me as I throw my head back. I climb into my seat again and take a peek at the tagger in the back, confusion crossing my features as I watch her stuff her face with candy. My candy. “Hefty stash you got back there.” Her mouth twists at the sour taste of a Warhead she picked. She seems completely unfazed by this whole situation.

I notice that she had discarded her hat and neck warmer and take the opportunity to get a better look at her: blue eyes matching her hair, light freckles splattered across her straight nose and rosy cheeks, pouty lips, her dark and expressive brows… She truly is breathtaking. I feel a blush creep up my face as she climbs over the console, wiggling her way into the passenger seat. She takes her hoodie off, revealing her black tank top, and fuck me, she has tattoos.

She faces me with a curious look herself, seemingly analyzing me too. Her gaze is difficult to decipher as her eyes trail over my figure, and I stiffen. She shoots me a knowing smile before throwing her hands around my neck and placing a kiss on my cheek. “You’re a lifesaver, toots,” she muses into my ear. The pleasant smell of paint and bubble gum hits my nose making me lick my lips. “Name’s Jinx, by the way. Stands for Jinx,” she cackles to herself, drawing her lower lip between her teeth awaiting my introduction.

I blink a couple of times, realizing how silent I’ve been throughout this whole ordeal. I can get awkward, sure, but I’m not timid, so I muster up the courage and consciously relax, trying to project a nonchalant attitude. “I’m Y/N.” I shoot her a smile of my own.

“Y/N. Hmm…” Jinx gives an approving hum as she repeats after me, my name rolling off her tongue like honey. “What made you help little ol’ me?” New observation: she’s a teaser.

“I need some excitement in my life,” I answer truthfully and she perks up with a spark in her eyes.

“Toots, you’ve just made friends with the perfect candidate to help you with that.” Her giddy attitude returns as she beams at me.

“We’re friends, huh?” I tease at her choice of words, my eyebrows raised in a cocky manner.

“Sure we are! I feel like running from the cops together is the perfect bonding experience, don’t ya?” She gives me a once-over before her mouth curves into a smirk. “Unless you want to be more than friends. That could work, too.” She winks. Her straightforwardness should make me turn crimson, but instead, it makes my confidence grow. I give a low chuckle as I shake my head in disbelief.

“Tell you what,” I begin, starting the engine and trying to connect my phone back to the car for the third time already, “let me get you home safely, and we’ll see what tomorrow brings to our friendship. Deal?” I extend my hand toward her, and she ponders my proposition. I can practically see the cogs turning in her head, her facial expressions jumping from sour to doubtful, as if she were battling her thoughts before settling on a satisfied grin.

Her soft hand reaches mine in a princess handshake, and I try not to look at her manicured nails for too long. “Deal.” The blue-haired girl snatches the phone out of my hands, adding her number to my contact list and sending a quick text to herself. Just when I think she’s giving it back, she picks a song, and I hear Arabella playing through the speakers. How fitting.

As I leave the stranger’s driveway, I sense her shuffling in the passenger seat, throwing her legs out the window. She puts her head on my lap freely, toying with the colorful charms on my keychain. In the spur of the moment, I gingerly brush her bangs behind her ear, revealing her side profile. Her gaze catches mine, and I see her eyes soften before I turn mine on the road again.

Jinx tells me her address, and I realize how close to me she lives—the perfect circumstances. I feel her lightly bobbing her head to the music as her left cheek strokes my thigh, her fingers tracing mine as they sit on the gear stick. Her demeanor feels different from the badass tagger who willingly hopped in a stranger’s car. She looks peaceful and content now.

My shoulders slump in disappointment as I park outside her house. She clicks her tongue and lazily lifts her head from the comfort of my lap. She looks around the empty streets of her neighborhood and hums, her curious eyes now shifting to mine. As we take each other in, I can’t help but gravitate toward her—her presence feels almost intoxicating, and I don’t want to part ways just yet. To my surprise, she copies my actions. She’s so close I can feel her minty breath mingle with mine. Instinctively, my gaze drops to her lips as she tentatively licks them. I let out a faint sigh, and she slowly closes the distance. I can hear my heartbeat as I wait for our lips to meet.

But they never do. “I don’t kiss on a first date,” she murmurs in my ear, and my face flushes. Jinx pulls away as she flashes me a toothy grin, and before I can even react, she’s already skipping to her front door, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. Wha-? When did she grab her stuff? I stare in disbelief as she turns around, her braids flailing behind her. “Let’s see what tomorrow brings,” she teases and blows me a kiss before disappearing into the dark hallway of her home.

Fourteen days.

Give me two weeks to make her mine.

╰┈➤ sequel – ‘Fourteen days’

[glow-worms-are-believers]

The Kaldur'ahm before the storm (dp x dc)

Kaldur'ahm has seen a lot as a member of the Light, he has had to do a lot, not the least of it being fighting his teammates. Former teammates, he berates himself. Whether or not they will ever trust him again after his stint as a double-agent is still uncertain. In any case, Kaldur'ahm has had to get better at holding back his natural reactions to whatever evil the Light has decided must be done.

But today, it seems is going to be a test of what he can resolve to ignore.

"The specimen is absolutely fascinating," says the man in his stained white coat as he speaks with great enthusiasm.

"What have you learned?" Savage interrupts impatiently.

The Atlantean is only here because his father has been sent on another mission that was considered too delicate to trust his son with. Despite his probing, Kaldur'ahm has not managed to find more information. He had resolved to try and make contact with other members of the Light and he ended up one of the lucky few chosen to shadow the Founder.

Kaldur'ahm does not feel lucky.

"It can regrow organs," the scientist says, as he wipes his glasses, excitedly, leaving yet another green stain on his coat. "We have not yet tested them all, but kidneys, pancreas and even parts of its larger intestines have all grown back in matter of hours."

"This could revolutionize the field of medicine as we know it," the second scientist says, her voice more controlled, but obviously just as excited.

"And we have yet to test if the it will regrow more essential organs, such as the heart or the lungs!"

"Marvellous," Vandal says with a benign smile.

The first scientist nods enthusiastically before gesturing further down the hall, away from the observation station as he continues rambling, sometimes interrupted by his companion.

Kaldur'ahm has been trying not to look through the window, out of fear he would let his horror and revulsion show, but he can't help but look up quickly, and he makes eye contact with the tired, pained green eyes.

It looks like the boy's face is trying to form a snarl, that he's trying to resist, but he is halfway gone already. His skin is so pale he looks transparent, despite the bright green spots painting his face.

Kaldur'ahm cannot look away.

The boy's chest is a mangle of green and flesh and the Atlantean has to stop himself from gagging at the sight.

Someone jostles him as they pass by him to rejoin the figure of Vandal who is getting further and Kaldur'ahm comes back to himself.

There is nothing he can do for the boy. Not yet, he tells himself.

But later, once most of the personnel has gone.

Kaldur'ahm will come back.

And he will get the boy out.

[ickadori]

[cws] fem reader. violence -> sukuna beats up a coworker for you lol. fade to black noncon oral.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

The dull sound of steel toed boots knocking against your wooden apartment floors come to a stop outside of your bedroom door. Your fingers pause over your keyboard as your stomach does a lurch, heart-rate quickening just a bit, and you save the essay you had been working on and close the lid of your Macbook.

“Ry..” Your voice dies out halfway through the call of his name, and you try again, getting no answer in return—no verbal one at least. The knob gives a quick turn and you flinch, and then there’s another thud, this one a bit lighter — a small thump of his boot against the door to push it open.

And there he is.

“Ryomen.”

“You left your front door open again.” His voice is rough, a slight drawl to it, almost lazy-like. “I told you about that.”

“Sorry, I forgot.” A crazy concept considering you’re a young woman living on your own, but you’ve had a lot on your mind the past few days, and your own safety was the last thing on your mind. Besides, Sukuna had showed his face around your complex a few times, and that was enough to deter most people from even looking in your direction for fear of getting his unwanted attention.

He chuffs and enters your room.

You look behind him to the darkly colored, boot-shaped spots that he’s left behind in his wake, and your teeth worry at your lip as you think about all the scrubbing you’ll have to do. He follows your gaze, head turning and angling down, and he clicks his tongue.

“What a mess.” He snickers, and you firmly press your lips together as he continues on, his steps slower this time, smaller, boots now leaving behind double the footprints because of his adjusted pace. What an asshole.

Now that he’s closer, you can make out the dark splatters of something on his jeans, along with the blooming bruises on his knuckles. The balls of your feet rest on the base of your desk chair, and you smooth your hands down the length of your thighs.

“Is it—are they…?” You trail off, not wanting to just outright ask it. You never liked to say it out loud after it was all said and done, yet you had never once struggled to get the words out whenever you first went to him, skin hot with anger and eyes sparkling with rage as you begged -demanded- that he do something about whoever it was that had managed to work you up so badly.

“Are they ‘dealt with’, as you so tenderly put it over the phone?” He finishes your question, fingers moving to lift the lid of your Macbook open. It hasn’t been closed long enough to require your password, and the black screens quickly flickers back on to display your half finished essay. “What’s this?”

“An assignment.” His finger makes a feint to tap at the delete button, and you yelp and quickly grab ahold of his hand with both of yours. “Please don’t do that.” The corner of his mouth quirks up as his eyes pointedly look at how you’re grabbing him, and you quickly let him go, thoughts of what those hands had likely did just a little while ago springing forth.

“I put ‘em in the hospital - nothing that’ll kill her, can’t say the same for her baby though.” Your stomach instantly sours, and a gasp forces its way out of your throat as you stare up at him with wide eyes.

“Baby?” You croak. “She was pre—” You can’t finish the sentence, a lump instantly forming in your throat as tears begin to blur your vision.

“Nah, I’m just fucking with you.” Sukuna barks out a laugh and you pause, expression still fixed into one of abject horror. “Or maybe she was, who knows—‘s not like I gave the bitch a pregnancy test before I broke her jaw.”

“Okay, enough.” You stress, fearing that you’d dirty the rug underneath your feet with stomach acid if he didn’t stop talking soon. While you may have envisioned all the ways he would deal with your bitch of a coworker two days ago, your argument with the outspoken women still fresh in your mind, you were calmer now, reasonable, not hellbent on revenge and willing to make a deal with the devil incarnate to see it exacted.

You thought he’d scare her a little -it wouldn’t have taken much, just a quick flash of his impossibly sharp canines and the sight of those black lines marring his otherwise handsome face would have done the trick-, maybe just toss her around a bit and take her wallet, call her a few names and send her on her sad way.

“Don’t get all mushy now. This was your idea, remember? You called me.” He looks over the trinkets on your desk, touching things here and there and invading your personal space all the while. You breathe in and catch a whiff of your coworkers signature perfume on his jacket, a scent that you had grown to hate, and you scramble to get out of your seat, only for a heavy hand to push down on your shoulder and keep you in place.

You make a noise of confusion and look up at him, but he doesn’t bother glancing at you, suddenly engrossed in the sight of a tattered, mini plushie that you had received as a gift years ago as a child.

“Where are you trying to run off to?”

“I—your money. I-I was going to pay you, for…you know…like I usually do.” His hand slips from your shoulder to the front of your neck and you suck in a sharp breath through your nose, watching as he finally looks down his nose at you, his lips twisted in that ever present smirk.

“I never asked for your money.” You frown, fingers twitching to push his hand away from you, but you curl them into your palm and keep them on your thighs.

“But you said—” His hand tightens around your throat just a bit, and your hands fly up on instinct to grab ahold of his wrist.

“I said you’d have to pay me, yeah.” He sighs out through his nose. “Never said how you’d pay me though, now did I?” His hand that isn’t squeezing at your neck suddenly fists your hair at the root and harshly tugs it back, the pained noise you make quickly being choked down. He looms over you, and Gods, has he always been this terrifying? You had always been wary of him despite Yuji’s never ending defense of his older brother.

“He’s not a bad guy, baby, I swear. He just got mixed up in some stuff when he was younger and did a few years.”

“He’s not mean, he’s just…well, I guess he is mean. But he’s not that mean!”

“He actually likes you, believe it or not…yes, I know he keyed your car but it was only because you double parked in the driveway and he thought it was Megumi.”

A rough thumb brushes across your bottom lip, and you’ve known enough men to know the look he’s giving you. You bristle, and he subdues it with a squeeze that leaves you coughing and pushing at his stomach. He takes the opportunity to push two fingers, pointer and middle, into your mouth, and you gag when a metallic taste hits your tongue, eyes widening and feet moving to kick at his shins.

“I’ve been wondering how it’d feel to have my cock in here,” he squeezes again, fingers pushing a bit deeper, “wondering if you’re as good as Yuji says you are.” You shove at him harder, and just when you build up enough courage to snap your teeth down against his fingers, he pulls his hand back from your mouth. You suck in a gasp of air at the short reprieve, only to lose your breath once again when his hand moves to his buckle.

“Let’s see if you can take it.”

[tsintotwo]

Comic-con Tom is back!

Quick recap: Tom showed up in a fit we've seen before cuz that's just who he is (and I respect that). Host was giving kind of a weird energy ('she's asking if you'd like to be punished'???), but okay, no harm done and we don't have to shit on random dudes.

He got asked some of the same questions from earlier cons and some new ones. In summary: Sandman s2 is halfway through filming, the helmet is real and you can see through the eyes, eternal waking is a worse punishment than eternal sleeping, he loved doing Sea Wall, he likes dark Belgian chocolate, he got into acting through Punk Rock, his main inspiration in portraying Dream was the the novels (rather than something external to them), a fav scene to act was the dinner table scene with all siblings in upcoming s2, he'd like to be Destiny so he can live alone in a garden and read, main characteristic of s1 Dream was Dream finding his connection to humanity, fav line is I Am Hope, he's excited to watch Dead Boy Detectives, embodying Dream had its challenges, little to no CGI was used in creating the other versions of Morpheus (iykyk), he tried meeting Morpheus in his dreams, working with Neil was wonderful, he wants to work with great creators (people 'cleverer than him' as he always puts it), he's done a lot of dark roles and if it's happening this many times, he guesses there must be a kinship between those and his personal self (mmhmmm?), for filming he wakes up/starts for the studio around 4 a.m. and starts giving shots around 9 a.m.- time between that is hair+makeup and getting into character, and last and definitely the least, he got asked to do the Dream voice yet AGAIN (please don't do this, people).

It was really, really good to see him. Watch the full video at Klara Himmel's channel.

[dirtysvthoughts]

tipsy nights 🌕

tags/warnings: boyfriend! chan, female! reader, alcohol, mentions of a finished dinner, lots of kissing, lots of touching and feeling each other up, reader praises chan, chan gets kinda shy, dry humping

word count: 1.9k

notes: thank you to @duhnova for helping me with the idea for this drabble! this has been a recurring thought in my mind - getting tipsy with chan, making out, and getting handsy 🥺 the dingo tipsy live is also one of my favorite chan looks ever (and the inspiration for this drabble), it’s so boyfriend coded 😩 anyways, enjoy besties!

chan stretches out his body, groaning out in satisfaction as you wash the dishes from your meal. “seriously babe, you’re such a great cook! that tteokbokki was one of the best i’ve ever had.”

you blush at chan’s words, a smile making its way on your lips. “thanks chan, i’m really glad you liked it!” you dry your hands with a towel as you join him on the couch, resting your head on his shoulders as your legs move into a mermaid position. chan puts his hand on your knee and begins rubbing your skin in a circular motion.

“you take such good care of me,” he admires, looking in your eyes, feeling as if he could get lost in them forever. “you’re always making sure i’m eating, making sure i’m well, i don’t deserve you..”

“i don’t deserve you, chan,” you emphasize, holding his hand. “the things you’ve done for me and the way you take care of me too? you’re the greatest boyfriend ever.”

you share a quick kiss, resting your head on chan’s shoulder when you separate. having a partner that not only understood you, but wanted to know more about you, flaws and all is one of the best feelings you’ve experienced.

after a few minutes of silence, you eye the bottles of soju and other alcohol on the table in front of you. plates of snacks and fruit were also laid out, your eyes turning back to your boyfriend. “ready to start drinking?”

chan smirks as he grabs a soju bottle, causing you to sit up for a moment. he pops the top off fashionably and he pours halfway to your shot glass, while pouring to the top for his. you reach for your liquor as you both say cheers, clinking your glasses and taking your shots. you hiss at the strong taste of the alcohol, the slightly bitter taste of regular soju wasn’t your favorite, but it was tolerable.

chan laughs at your reaction, shaking his head, “still getting use to the taste huh?”

“the flavored one taste so much better to me!” you defend. “i dunno how you take down almost three bottles of this,” you take the bottle as you pour another shot, stopping halfway again.

“but yet, you’re getting another drink of it,” he chided and you playfully, lightly hit him on his shoulder. “i never said i didn’t like it, y’know,” you pop a chip into your mouth, swallowing it. “i just prefer other tastes.”

thirty minutes pass by and a pleasant feeling overtakes your body and brain. you’re not completely drunk, but you definitely could say you weren’t sober either. what was the word you were looking for?

“are you tipsy, baby?” chan smiles at you leaning his head back on the couch, hand covering his face, chuckling to himself. while his tolerance was way higher than yours, he had already downed two and a half bottles of soju - and is probably more intoxicated than you are.

“mmmhmm,” your slowly slur, leaning forward but stopping yourself so you wouldn’t fall over. “it feels good though, not gonna lie,” you giggle, shifting yourself to sit closer to your boyfriend. you rest your head on his shoulder again, hand holding on his forearms. you stare at the wall in front of you, but you look up at him when he takes another swig of alcohol, biting your lip watching his adam’s apple move with each swallow, how his lips looked so soft and pillowy.

you tap his arm twice and it brings his attention back to you, chan humming in response to your gesture. “i dunno if told you this but you look really hot today.. i mean you always look hot, but right now?” you stop to bite your lip, legs pressing together tightly, “god, i need you inside of me, on top of me, maybe even underneath me.”

chan blushes profusely at your words, his bright smile making one also spread across your face. you kiss his cheek twice, but something inside you is encourages you to go further and your lips trail down his cheek to the left side of his neck. his breath hitches at the sensation, your moist, wet lips doing something to him.

“i didn’t think my outfit today would have such an effect on you,” he muses, looking down at the long sleeve brown top he matched with some jeans. he hadn’t intended on making you feel a certain way when he puts this together, but he mentally pats himself on the back for it because look where it got him. his favorite girl in the world, tipsy and kissing his neck ever so tenderly.

you chuckle, moving your body to sit on top of his left thigh, praising and thanking all the high powers for convincing you to wear shorts today. you maneuver yourself closer to him, lips diving into his neck again, but this time alternating between kisses and small, light bites. this clearly arouses chan and his hands make their way to the small of your waist, softly gripping the skin.

“mmm channie,” you moan softly as your hands make their way down to his chest and stomach, fingertips tracing the line of his abs. “you’re so handsome and stunning.. everything about you is so attractive. you’re an amazing performer, a hard worker, so patient and understanding.. not to mention funny and insanely talented, you’re like the complete package.”

you momentarily pause as your hand goes inside his shirt, now tracing the lines of his skin. your fingers slowly dance their way down to chan’s zipper, his breathing becoming quicker. “just wanna show you how amazing you are my love, wanna shower you with you all the compliments i can think of,” you kiss his forehead as you tease him by rubbing your fingers lightly against his crotch.

chan leans his head back as he whines from all the praise he was getting. “baby, you’re making me red,” he says a little above a whisper, and you can’t help but smile at how cute he is right now. normally he would be one to take compliments to his advantage, use them to dirty talk you until you were leaking all over him. but tonight was different. there was something in the air chan couldn’t define, but whatever it was, he just wanted to let you take the lead in this moment.

deciding that it was time to switch things up, you begin to slowly grind on your boyfriend’s thigh, the feeling of your shorts and his jeans on your crotch has you immediately moaning. chan’s mouth opens in awe as he lays his eyes back on you, the expression on your face and the way you bite down on your lips has him starting to form a wet spot on his boxers.

chan tenses the muscles in his thigh and it has your chest falling forward, causing you to release a louder moan. “shit, channie,” you whine, a doe like look spread across your face. “please do that again, please,” you beg breathlessly, never stopping your enticing motions on his leg.

chan smirks at how affected you are and fulfills your request, tensing his muscles again and moving his leg side to side to add extra excitement to your folds. you whimper as your body continues to heat up, chan’s movement and groans tightening the coil in your stomach. before you think you’re about to burst, chan taps the back of your thigh twice, bringing all of your movement to a stop.

“there’s two things i want you to do for me pretty girl,” he bites his lips as he eyes you up and down, noticing how your nipples got perky and were peeking through your shirt. “yes baby?” you respond, pushing some of your hair back that got in your face.

“first, stand up and take your shorts off for me. let me see your cute little panties,” he smirks, now eyeing the lower half of your body as you get up from his leg. four eyes dare not leave chan’s as you find the button to your shorts, then you work the zipper down, pulling them down slowly as he groans when they’re completely off your legs, kicking them off to the side.

“like what you see?” you tease, already knowing the answer. chan licks his lips and beckons you to come closer with his index finger.

“second thing, you think you can ride me but sit on my lap this time? i wanna feel your pretty little pussy on my dick.”

“think?” you playfully roll your eyes as you maneuver your body and gingerly sit on his lap, you crotch pressing against chan’s. “i know i can, i wanna feel you too channie,” you moan already feeling his hard on touch the material of your underwear.

“how are you so hard already?” you geniunely question as chan wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. “not that i’m complaining or anything!”

your boyfriend smiles as he seals your lips in a long, drawn out kiss, guiding your body to grind against him. “that’s all you baby,” chan laughs as you hold on to his shoulders, feeling up his arms. “you feel so good rolling your hips into me like a good girl.. i can feel how wet you are too, soaking these adorable panties you have on,” his fingers lightly touch your clit from the outside and it has you mewling, craving for more - chan’s name and more higher pitched moans than the others you let out earlier consistently coming out your lips.

“channie,” you beg, moving down on him with a bit more pressure. “i need you so bad, need you to fuck me here on the couch after i come.. please tell me you’ll fuck me,” your eyes looking like they were watering. chan tilts your chin up as he pushes his hips up to thrust into you, making sure you kept your eyes on him. “i fuck you just how you want baby, i’ll make sure i’ll have you screaming for me on this couch, have you begging even more than you are now. you want that baby? want me to have you screaming my name?” you pace has sped up as you nod frantically, the coil in your stomach becoming tighter and tighter.

“chan! chan! cha-” you loudly whine as your body becomes undone, slumping into your boyfriend’s chest as you come all over his boxers, making an even bigger mess on his clothes. your breathing is ragged, but you love the state you’re in right now, chan continuing to hold you by the waist as he rubs your back.

“think you’ve sobered up a bit?” chan asks as he helps you sit up. “cause i know i have,” he chuckles, brushing his hair back. you nod, agreeing with him. “yeah, i think so too.”

after a few beats of comfortable silence, you call out your boyfriend’s name, looking up at him. “can you still take me down on the couch? i still haven’t felt you inside me yet,” you fake pout as he smugly smiles, switching your position, and pressing you down on the couch’s material.

“just you wait, i’m gonna leave you wanting my touch for a very long time.”

[genericpuff]

I've been seeing you say/speculate Rachel Smythe has been cut loose from webtoon, could you elaborate what you mean by that?

It's only a tinfoil hat theory that people should take with MOUNTAINS of salt (seriously, I'm more likely to believe that Rachel really is just done with LO), but there's a general suspicion that LO wasn't meant to end here and that Webtoons decided to cut the cord. I've made a post about it before but some new stuff has surfaced since then.

1.) The announcement the series was ending was made quietly at NYCC and not shared to either Webtoons' socials or Rachel's socials.

The only way fans initially knew about the series ending was through a screencap from the Discord where someone else who had been attending NYCC passed on the info from a Q&A that LO would be entering its final arc.

For a good while the only other way to know the series was ending was through the Discord, a Cosmopolitan article, and my own post.

Though it sounds odd for a series to get cancelled halfway through its third season, it's not uncommon for Webtoons to suddenly axe series while they're on their midseason hiatuses, it's happened before. So there's a general suspicion that Rachel may have found out during NYCC that LO would only be given one more arc.

2.) The actual finale announcement was made in a text post on Instagram that suddenly announced it would be ending on May 11th, despite the fact that there was still lots to wrap up in the story.

What this implies is that Rachel was given one more arc, with no concrete end date... until Webtoons told her to wrap it up in a limited number of episodes, hence why despite us knowing it was in its final arc, the end date still felt too soon. This is also supported by the fact that her initial announcement was vaguely "early/mid 2024" - she couldn't give a more accurate end date because she didn't plan for the actual ending.

3.) Things that Rachel has said implies that she was either hoping for the final arc to go on longer, or that she didn't think LO was going to be ending now.

(that "nothing is set in stone" quote further supports the theory that she may have been hoping to get renewed in spite of the lukewarm ending announcement - that the only reason the announcement was so quiet was because WT hadn't fully committed to it yet and wanted to see how the series would do upon its return; now that they see it falling behind to other series, it might mean WT became more sure in their decision to cut it and gave her an actual deadline to wrap it up by.)

4.) Webtoons has stopped promoting Lore Olympus despite it ending.

Any promotional spots that it has gotten have been stuffed into the dead zone of the banner reels (seriously, anything past the 3rd spot is practically useless because it takes actual committed scrolling to get there vs. the first 1-3 banner spots which can be seen as soon as you open the app/site) and the banner art itself does not in any way advertise the series being in its final arc. These banners also only seem to be appearing for a day at most, compared to the days upwards of weeks they used to get.

Webtoons also hasn't been doing any sort of promoting on their socials for it. Considering The Mafia Nanny has been consistently beating out LO in the top rankings for weeks now, and that LO's rating and view count is still dropping, it appears that Webtoons has finally given up on shoving it down people's throats and put their focus elsewhere.

Again, this is all tinfoil hat speculation, so take it with massive doses of salt. Considering this is Webtoons, I wouldn't be surprised if they finally decided to put LO out of its misery, but this is also Rachel and I wouldn't blame her in the slightest if she finally wanted to be done with it after the past two years of people clowning on it. And I say that knowing I, myself, am a clown LOL

Either way, I feel like either outcome is plausible in its own ways, but whatever is the true reason, it doesn't change the fact that LO is ending and has 3 episodes left to wrap itself up. And whatever comes after will likely involve the launch of Inklore which was estimated for the spring.

[signedeclipse]

douma, gyutaro & rui’ s/o (separately) wandered outside and they thought their s/o left but were just making flower crowns and didn’t noticed they’re out of their demon’s territory - 💀 💚

Douma

You were supposed to be sound asleep in his room when he finished his meeting

But an empty bed and creaked open door letting in the snow told him 'supposed to' didn't mean 'would be'

At first he contemplates if you ran, if all of your emotions had been a ploy not too dissimilar from his own, but then he decided you were too genuine for something like that

Or perhaps he assumed himself to be too good at telling

Then he hurried out the same door you did, remembering humans didn't do so great in the cold and you did not have the proper attire to survive out there

He couldn't sense you any longer, which told him you had either left or been taken long ago

Fortunately he could rely on foot prints in the snow, but the further down the mountain he got the less there was

Then he relief on scent until he found you halfway to the bottom crouched in a meadow pilling all different kinds of flowers into your arms as if your life depended on it

Of course, he forgot sometimes your motives weren't as predictable as he'd expect

"Almost done, are we?"

You dropped all your flowers upon hearing your voice, but the demon was so close his chest wa snow pressed against your back, and he caught them all into his hand with a swift swipe

Once a show off always a show off, he opts to carry you home so your feet don't get frostbitten

He also pinches your cheeks a lot and calls you so cute for such innocent displays of behavior, maybe he'll let you teach him how to make a crown when you are safe and warmed up at home

Gyutaro

Entertainment district isn't exactly known for its lush fields or flower shops

Out of the ones that do exist there they tend to be over expensive and not in much of a variety

So without even thinking to tell the upper rank expecting you back home in a couple minutes, you  bought yourself a snack with the flower money and ran off to the fields

Gyutaro notices the moment he can’t sense you any longer, but the sun hadn't set yet and he can't really do anything so he tried to follow you as far as he can through underground tunnels and through the empty spaces of peoples homes

He knows there are slayers looking for him out there, and he can't help but fear that someone got you

The moment the sun is down just enough he flings himself out into the shadows and follows the direction he had been following you in originally

It was right towards the exit of the district, which had him even more concerned

Following you while avoiding people wasn't easy, but he'd risk being seen if it meant getting you back before too much blood was spilled

Except... you were completely fine

In fact, he found you passed out in the field with a couple of flower crowns and an empty drink glass

Immediate 'why do I even try' pang, but he will make sure you get home safely

When asking about the flower crowns after you've woken up he is pleased to hear you worked so hard to make such a think for yourself, him and his little sister

He'll forgive your foolishness just this once

Rui

The mountain which you called home was so dense with trees it was almost out of a fairytale, where monsters hid

Well, that wasn't wrong to say, the forest was plentiful in demons beyond people's imaginations, trees tall and encompassing to the point where it almost always looked as if it were night

It allowed the lower moon to thrive beyond just the day, but he still had to be careful

On this particular day the wind was strong, allowing rays of sun to break through and make it far too dangerous to chance going outside

But you were fine to go out, and Rui wasn't all that demanding of you so long as you promised not to stray too far or put yourself in any kind of danger

Neglectfully, he trusted you

Because since the sun had risen, which it was now almost fully set, you had not returned

In fact he could no longer sense your being anywhere, which means you were no longer on the mountain to begin with

Once he was able to step outside, he was rushing in the direction he last felt you, partially with worry and partially with anger

Had you run away? It seemed nothing like you, but no one could have taken you, he would have known they were there

Once he gets near the edge of the forested mountain, he knows exactly where you are, he can see you sitting in the fields just beside the dirt path between the fields

Instantly he is relieved to see you are okay, and he is more than curious as to what made you so interested in sitting there all day

Noticing you have piles of all kinds of assorted flowers around you, he realizes you must have gone so far because the forest's density prevented anything more than white blossoms from growing on the ground

Might be a little cross and short with you for even causing him to worry, and he will also confiscate your crown you spent hours on

But next time you see him he's wearing it, so maybe it isn't that rough of a punishment

Authors Note - I love this prompt sm,, thank you skull anon! Happy to see you got to sneak in a request or two as well ;]