i do like the grey though! that was not a lie!

anonymous asked:

*shyly whispers* do u think u could do another Greek Mythology story~

“Your tapestries are so fine,” the merchant says in wonder, “that you must be blessed by the goddess Athena.”

Arachne tosses her head, braided hair falling over her shoulder like an obsidian waterfall, “What’s Athena got to do with it? My hands wove these, not hers.”

The merchant blanches and looks to the sky, as if expecting Zeus himself to smite them for blasphemy. Personally, she thinks the king of the gods has better thing to do with his time. “Ah,” he says weakly, “I suppose.”

He pays her for her wares and she leaves, almost immediately bumping into a hunched old woman with grey eyes. “Do you not owe Athena thanks for your talent?” she croaks, gnarled hands curled over a cane.

Arachne is not stupid, but she is foolish. They will tell tales of it. She looks into those grey eyes and declares, “Athena should thank me, since my talents earn her so much praise.”

She pushes past her and keeps walking, ignoring the goddess in humans skin as she disappears into the crowd.

They will tell tales of her hubris. They will all be true.

~

The next day she bumps into the same old woman at the market. Everything goes downhill from there.

“Know your place, mortal,” Athena says, grey eyes narrowed. There is a crowd around them, and Arachne could save herself, could walk away unscathed, and all she has to do is say her weaving is inferior to that of a goddess.

She will not lie.

“I do,” she says coolly, “and in this matter, it is above you.”

She is not honest as a virtue, but as a vice.

Athena challengers her to a weaving contest. She accepts.

~

Gods are not so hard to find, if you know where to look.

“It’s a volcano,” the baker repeats, looking down at her coins, as if he feels guilty for taking money from someone who’s clearly not all there.

She grabs her bag of sweet breads and adds it to her pack before swinging it over her shoulders, “Yes, I know. Half a day’s walk, you said?”

“A volcano,” he insists, as if she did not hear him perfectly well the first dozen times.

“Thank you for your help,” she says. He’s shaking his head at her, but she knows what she’s doing.

She walks. She grows hungry, but does not touch the bread she paid for, and walks some more. The sun’s begun to set by the time she makes it to the base of the volcano. It’s tall, impossibly large, and for a moment the promise of defeat threatens to overwhelm her.

But Arachne does not believe in defeat, in loss. They will tell tales of her hubris. Those tales will be true.

She ties a scarf around her braids then hikes her skirt up and ties the material so it falls only to her thighs. She fits work roughened hands into the divots of cooled magma and begins her slow ascent.

~

The muscles in her legs and arms shake, and her hunger pains are almost as distracting. Her once white dress is dirt smeared and torn and sweat makes her itch as it covers her body and drips down her back.

“What are you doing?”

Arachne turns her head and bites back a scream, looking into one giant eye. The cyclops holds easily to the volcano’s edges, even though her hands are torn and bleeding. She swallows and says, “I heard you like honeyed bread. Is it true?”

The creature tilts his head to the side, baring his long fanged teeth at her. She thinks he might be smiling. “You’ve been climbing for hours. What do you want?”

“Is it true?” she repeats, refusing to flinch.

“Yes,” he says, looking at her the same way the baker had, “it’s true.”

“There’s some sweet bread in my pack, baked this morning,” she says, “it should still be soft.”

His hands are big enough and strong enough that it could probably squeeze her head like a grape. Instead he gently undoes her pack and reaches inside. The honey buns look comically small in his large hands, and he swallows half of them in one bite. He licks his fingers clean when he’s done, and his smile is just as terrifying the second time around. “I am Brontes. Why are you climbing my master’s volcano?”

“I’m the weaver Arachne,” she takes a deep breath, “I need your master’s help.”

~

They tell tales of Hephaestus’s ugliness.

They are not true.

He’s got a broad, angular face and short brown hair. His eyes are like amber set into his face, and his arms are huge, and he’s rippling muscle from the waist up. He has legs only to his knees. From there down his legs are bronze gears and golden wire, replacements for the legs destroyed when Hera threw him from Mount Olympus.

“Had your look, girl?” he asks, voice rough like he’s always a moment away from breaking into a coughing fit.

“Yes,” she says, and doesn’t turn away, keeps looking.

His lips quirk up at the corners, so it was the right move. The heat is even more oppressive inside the volcano, and all around him cyclopses work, forging oddly shaped metal that she can’t hope to understand. “You’ve gone to an awful lot of trouble to find me, girl. What do you want?”

She slides her pack off her shoulders and holds it out to the god, “I have a gift for your wife. I have woven her a cloak.”

He raises an eyebrow and doesn’t reach for the bag, “You believe something made with mortal hands could be worthy of the goddess of beauty?”

They will tell tales of her hubris.

“Yes.”

They will all be true.

With a gust of wind the oppressive heat of the volcano is swept away, leaving her chilled. In its place stands a woman – more than a woman. Aphrodite has skin like the copper of her husband’s machines and hair dark and thick and long. Her eyes are deepest, richest brown, piercing in their intelligence. People don’t tell tales of Aphrodite’s cleverness. That is because people are stupid.

“Let’s see it then,” she says, reaching inside the pack and pulling the cloak from its depths.

It unrolls beautifully. It’s made from the finest silks, and it shimmers in the light from the forges. The hem of the cloak is sea foam, speaking of Aphrodite’s beginning, and up along the cloak is intricate patterns it tells of her life, of her marriage and her worshippers and escapades, all with the detail of the most experienced artist and the reverence of her most devoted followers.

Her lips part in surprise and she slides it on, twirling like a child. “Gorgeous,” Hephaestus says, though Arachne knows he does not speak of the cloak. She doesn’t take offense.

The goddess smiles and Arachne’s heart pounds in her chest. She does her best to ignore it – Aphrodite is the goddess of love, after all. It is only expected. “Very well,” the goddess says, “you have my attention.”

Arachne swallows. Aphrodite’s attention is a heavy thing. “I have offended Athena,” she says, “She has challenged me to a weaving contest.”

Their faces somber. Hephaestus rubs the edge of a sleeve between his fingers and says, “Athena will lose such a contest, if judged fairly. She does not take loss well.”

“I know,” she says, “you are friendly with Hades, are you not?”

There are no tales of their friendship. But she’s staking her life on its existence, because why wouldn’t it exist – both of them even tempered, both shunned by Olympus, both happily married.

Gods hate being made to feel lesser. It is why they say Persephone was kidnapped, why they say Aphrodite cheats with Ares. It is why Athena will crush her when Arachne wins the weaving contest.

“Clever girl,” Hephaestus says, smiling.

Aphrodite stares at her reflection in a convenient piece of polished silver. Arachne assumes Hephaestus left if lying there for that express purpose. “Very well!” the goddess says, not looking at her, “when Athena sends you to the underworld, we will entrench upon our uncle for your release.” She turns on her heel and points a finger at her. Arachne blushes for no reason she can think of. “In return, you will weave me a gown, one equal to my own beauty.”

A gown as exquisite as the goddess of beauty. An impossible task.

They will tell tales of her hubris.

“I accept.”

They will all be true.

~

The contest goes as expected. Athena’s tapestry is lovely, but Arachne’s is lovelier.

The goddess’s face goes red in rage, and her grey eyes narrow. Arachne stands tall, ready to accept the death blow coming for her.

The blow comes.

Death does not.

~

She is an insect. Even if she can make it back to Hephaestus’s volcano, even if they can help her, they will not know it is her. She has no hope left, no course of action, she should just give up. But –

She doesn’t believe in defeat, in loss.

It was a terribly long journey on foot, that first time. It is even longer this time, although now she has eight legs instead of two. She makes it to the volcano, and creeps in between crevices, until she finds out a hollowed room, one with a sliver of sunlight and plenty of bugs to keep her fed.

Athena’s cruel joke of allowing her to weave will be her downfall. Her silk comes out a golden yellow color – it will look exquisite against Aphrodite’s copper skin.

~

It takes seven years for her to complete it. She hasn’t left this room in the volcano in all that time, and as soon as it’s done she scurries out back toward the village. She’s a large insect, but not that large.

She arrives just as the sun begins to rise, and leaves before the first rays have even touched the earth, her prize tied to her back with her own silk.

Arachne doesn’t return to her room. Instead she goes to the more popular parts of the volcano, hurries and runs around terrifying stomping feet until she finds who she’s looking for and scurries up his leg and onto his shoulder.

“Huh,” Brontes looks onto his shoulder and blinks. “What on earth are you?”

She cautiously skitters down his arm, waiting. He bends closer and lightly touches her back. “Is – is that a piece of a honey bun?”

She looks up at him, waiting. It’s her only chance, if he doesn’t remember, if he doesn’t understand –

His face slowly fills with a cautious kind of wonder. “Arachne?”  She jumps in place, being unable to nod, and Brontes cautiously cradles her in his massive hands, “We must find the Master immediately!”

She jumps down, landing in front of him and running forward. “Wait!” he calls, and she makes sure he’s running after her before skittering back to her corner of the cave. It’s almost too small for him to enter but he squeezes inside and breathes, “Oh.” He stares for several moments, and Arachne climbs her web and waits. Brontes shakes himself out of his reverie and uses his powerful wings to bellow, “MISTRESS APHRODITE!”

There’s that same breeze and she’s in the crevice with them, “What was so important, Brontes, that you had to yell?”

Arachne sees the exact moment that the goddess sees the gown, golden yellow and glimmering, made entirely of spider silk. “Beautiful,” she says, reaching out a hand to brush down the bodice. Her head then snaps up, “Brontes, where’s Arachne?”

She warms at that, that Aphrodite knew it was her weaving even though she hasn’t been seen in seven years.

They’ve told tales of her hubris.

They are all true.

Brontes points at the web, and Aphrodite steps over and holds out her hands. Arachne crawls onto the goddess’s palms. “Athena is more powerful than I am, I cannot undo her work,” she says, “but I know someone who can.”

Then they are in front of a river. A handsome young man stands there waiting with a boat. “Goddess Aphrodite,” he says, “we weren’t expecting you.”

“Thanatos,” she returns, “I need to see Persephone.”

The man’s face stays cool, and for a moment Arachne fears they will be refused and she will be stuck in this form forever. Then he smiles and says, “My lady is of course available for her favored niece.” He holds out a hand to help her onto the boat, “Please come with me.”

~

Arachne weaves a dress for Hades’s wife as a thank you, and returns to her volcano.

“I can take you somewhere else,” Aphrodite says, “you don’t have to hide here.”

Arachne pauses at her loom. She has lived in this volcano for seven years. It’s her home. “Would you like me to leave?” she asks instead.

Aphrodite scoffs, “Of course not! How could I dress myself without you here?” She’s wearing the spider silk dress Arachne spun for her, and she’s working on another for the goddess now. Aphrodite runs a gentle finger down Arachne’s cheek and for a moment she forgets to breathe. “You are the finest weaver to ever exist.”

She looks up at the goddess, “Then as the god of crafts and goddess of beautiful things, where else would I belong besides with you and Hephaestus?”

To declare your company equal to that of gods is the height of arrogance and blasphemy.

They tell tales of her hubris.

“An excellent point,” Aphrodite murmurs, and tucks a stray braid behind Arachne’s ear.

They are all true.

gods and monsters series part iii

Scavenger Hunt

Stiles/Derek, T, 2500 words, Meet Cute AU

Written for the following prompt:

“i picked up your bag at the airport but i can’t find your number so i’m about to embark on the largest scavenger hunt of all time by using your strange belongings to track you down” au

“Honey, I’m home!” Stiles calls out as he wrestles his roll bag over their entry mat.

“That’s still not funny,” Scott says, without looking up from his textbook.

“Once again, we disagree.”

Scott snorts. “How was the trip?”

“Fine,” he says, plopping down right in the middle of the living room to start unpacking. “Typical conference. Some sessions were actually interesting, most were boring as shit.”

Scott hums, already absorbed again in his reading. Stiles reaches for the zipper on his suitcase but then freezes—this is definitely the same brand as his suitcase, but he doesn’t remember this extra zippered pocket on the top.

“Oh, shit.”

“What?”

Stiles grimaces. “I’m pretty sure this isn’t my suitcase. Goddamn it.”

Scott finally looks up, frowning. “Shit, really? How’d you manage that?”

“It was a redeye,” Stiles says, running a hand through his hair. “I was exhausted, in fucking LaGuardia, and I was just trying to get out of there as fast as humanly possible.”

“Is there a name on it? Are you sure it’s not yours?”

“Pretty sure,” Stiles says, feeling around the sides for the pocket. He sighs when he pulls out the little card and sees that it’s blank. “Motherfucker. This is definitely not my suitcase because I’m actually smart enough to put my name on it.”

“Sorry, man,” Scott says sympathetically as Stiles falls back on the rug with an anguished groan.

“What the hell am I supposed to do now?”

“Open it,” Scott suggests. “Maybe there’s something with their name on it.”

Stiles fiddles with the zipper. He’s nosy as hell, in general, and normally he’d be jumping at the chance to rifle through someone else’s personal belongings. But… 

“What if there’s like, dead bodies in there or something?” he asks, and Scott just stares at him for a second. Stiles rolls his eyes—that’s a perfectly valid concern. Or maybe he watches too many police procedurals, whatever. “Okay, fine.”

Stiles holds his breath as he slowly unzips the suitcase, but nothing happens when he lets the top part flop back onto their crappy, threadbare rug. There’s a Dodgers hat on top, and Stiles grimaces. “Well, they have shitty taste in baseball teams.”

He sets the hat carefully aside and keeps digging. The person is neat, whoever they are, because everything is folded, and all the dirty clothes are even all contained in their own zippered bag. At first glance, there’s nothing too out of the ordinary—phone charger, American Gods, Calvin Klein briefs. Fancy, he thinks. There’s a monogrammed leather toiletry bag (DSH, he commits those initials to memory), and he pokes through it.

“I’m gonna make an educated guess that it’s a guy.”

“Why’s that?” Scott says, finally looking somewhat interested in this mystery.

Stiles holds up an electric razor. “And that he’s maybe not totally straight,” he says, brandishing a little bottle of lube that’s about three-quarters full.

Scott rolls his eyes. “Lots of people use lube.”

“Yeah, but do you travel with it?” Stiles counters, and Scott sighs.

“No,” he admits. “Did you find anything with his actual name on it?”

“Not yet,” Stiles says absently. He continues to rifle through the bag until he’s pretty sure he has his plan of attack. “Okay. I’m gonna find out who it is,” he says with a determined nod, and Scott frowns.

“How? This is New York City! There are literally millions of dudes here.”

“It’ll be like a real-life scavenger hunt,” Stiles says dreamily, ignoring Scott as he carefully lays his three chosen items out on the coffee table. “This is awesome.”

Keep reading

august 21st aka fanfic writers appreciation day.

i saw this post going around and i’ve decided to make a post to a) recommend you some great stories and amazing writers, b) give some sort of feedback. i don’t really have that much time to read anymore, so this won’t be that long. as soon as i get more time, i’ll start reading again :) the list is in no specific order, i was going through my “following” list and through my fic recs blog.


@noona-la-la-la  — i recommend literally everything noona ever wrote. i love her style and her plots and the fact that she always manages to exceed my expectations. she’s one of those writers whose stories aren’t just about the smut, which i love. of course, the amazing smut is just a bonus. my favorite story of hers is either unexpected or conditioned (which is also one of my fave tae stories ever. e v e r.) and her vmin threesome the group project is amazing! i’m so far up her ass it’s not even funny, but i seriously love everything about her blog and her writing.


@ellieljade  — amazing plots! a m a z i n g. and the dirty talk! the smut scenes are just too good, and mr.min is my favorite yoongi series. i love the plot, i love the fact that the characters aren’t labeled as good or bad, there’s a lot of grey areas and you never know what to expect. if you want to cry, read her this is how you lose her series and come bitch about it with me. and did i mention sub namjoon? because damn, watch me is amazing.


@avveh — some of the best dirty talk and pwp ever. i enjoy reading her stories from the first one she posted, which is reveries. i don’t even watch the show it’s based on, but i love the series. emily can really suck you into the plot, regardless of the smut. of course, you know me, my favorite is jealousy games because jungkook AND jimin. you know.


@xhixtape — i could go on about lila forever. the flow in her stories is amazing, i love the slow build ups in some stories, and i love the smut in all of them. she’s a huge inspiration for me and her work has inspired a lot of mine, i think i might be her biggest fan. read everything! my favorites are kitten’s got his tongue, good mornings, and vibrations. vibrations, man!!!

@tayegi — lu is one of the OGs of bts fanfics, so i’m sure you’re all already reading her stories. i lover her ocs, i love that they know how to speak for themselves and that they know what they want and aren’t afraid to go for it. my favorites are fuck, marry, kill (because JIMIN), the golden boy because T A E, and friendship goals because TAEGI.


@kimtrain — okay, one good purr had me hooked ! i loved the slow burn and tae′s character and everything about it, from the plot to her style. that’s also one of my favorite tae stories ever.  also, the wings of a devil? b o m b. she has a huge masterlist and i need to read all of her stories.


@floralseokjin — blessed is the day i found out about jordan’s blog. i love everything she writes, i don’t care what member the stories are about because they’re that good. i love her style because it makes me get into the story so much that i can’t stop reading. the first story i read was salt and shadow and i still love it. her jin stories are the best out there and i love reading them. show me might be my fave. also, playing with fire is bomb.


@gukvory —  can you feel it, sugar? is a masterpiece. actually, everything on this masterlist is a masterpiece. i love her writing style, i love the flow, i love the feeling i get when reading her stories. just read everything of hers, you won’t regret it.


@kittae — eva writes for other groups as well! i’ve only read most of her bts stories, and my faves are v-card because it’s the right amount of everything, and favourites and servants is so good! there’s still so many stories on her masterlist to read and i can’t wait to read more. 


@dailydoseofdia — i’m gonna recommend carousel because it’s one of the stories i’ve been meaning to read, but just didn’t have enough time for, even though everyone is praising it. i’ve read dia’s fics and they’re amazing, so i don’t doubt that carousel is just as great. lick was amazing and it’s the first thing i’ve read on her blog.


@chinnychimchim — ah. ah! one of my favorite writers. i seriously love everything she posts, i don’t ever check who the story is about. my favorite has to be reset. it’s such a good story and i haven’t read anything similar, so i love it. cognitive dissonance is also a must read. just read the entire masterist while you’re at it, it’s worth it.


@kstopping  — who doesn’t want a good mmf threesome with vmon? that’s exactly what cinnamon sugar is and i LOVE IT. also tags that crack me up every time.


@jungkookfortunekookies  — for those who don’t read smut, there’s a ton of popular stories on her masterlist, including jungkook roommate series which is so fun and easy to read!


@jeylovestoblog — i’ve heard jey writes amazing reader/girl/member threesomes, so i need to check them out, and i recommend you do the same. she updates often, so i’m sure you’ll find something for yourself.


@rapmonluv — all i’ve read so far is nightcall and it’s enough for me to know i’ll love everything else.


@jingukz — sarah’s stories are amazing and you know that i prefer smut, but her stories are that good. she doesn’t need smut to pull you in, but when it’s there, it’s great. bliss among sinners is probably my fave, but the first one i’ve read is cry me a river and i’m still not over it.


@emboyz — i still need to go through her masterlist, but i’ve read good catch and it’s great!


@pjxmin — i don’t get how everyone’s not talking about her writing. caught in a lie is amazing, proposals is such a good story, her writing is amazing and her stories are fun and they just pull you in. amazing writer!


@cosykims — merlot murders (the crimson killer, kisses of carmine) is the most underrated series i’ve ever read. it has everything and i can’t praise it enough, seriously. you need to read it!


@jiminniemouse — i think i’ve read everything of hers and there wasn’t a single story i didn’t like. i love her style, i love her plots, i just love everything about her writing. purple jewels is so well written and interesting, i can’t get enough. seriously, i recommend everything.


@wonhopes — amanda’s writing is amazing. i think you’ve all read not so honest, but i think my favorite might be cat got your tongue because TAEEEE.


@mindfullofcrazy — i absolutely loved give me love!!!


@hobibliophile — i think i’ve read everything on her masterlist and i loved it! my favorites are take a break (jihope threesome ftw), blue blooded (prince jin!!!), and don’t care about the presents (namjoon being a cutie).


@kainks — i love her writing style! my favorites are new guy and triplicity because damn, hoseok and yoongi threesome? i’m in. orange tulips is on my to read list, i’ve heard great things about it.


@versigny — if you haven’t read miss dial, i don’t know what you’re doing. read it. now. i love it!


@baeseoul  — protege is probably my favorite jungkook series ever. it’s so well written, i love the plot, i love the characters and their flaws, i just love everything about the story. destruction of a muse is on my to read list. just great writing in general, one of my favorite writers.


@protectaetae — i love her writing style! one night snap pt 1 and 2 saved me.


@taehyung-the-baehyung  — closer is amazing and so is the suit and tie series! amazing :)


@jheartseok — i still haven’t read nude, not flowers and i suck because i’ve heard it’s an amazing story. i need to read everything of hers.


@roseok — just read everything. amazing writing.


@drquinzelharleeni’m not a kid is a great series. there’s so much more i have to read from her masterlist, but i like her writing style!


there are a lot of writers who i still need to check out and i’m looking forward to it. i’m sorry if i’ve forgotten someone! if i’ve ever given you a compliment about your writing, i truly meant it. i hope i’ve included everyone. if you go check out these writers, please don’t ask them about updates :)

The Librarian *Bucky Barnes x Reader* NSFW

Originally posted by sebastiansource

Summary: A University AU. You have been studying in the library all weekend, although the sexy librarian has been distracting you. Turns out you’ve been a bit of distraction for him also.
Warnings: Explicit (+18) smut, public sex, no condom & oral. Also swearing

Quick thank you to my close friend @full-of-sins-not-tragedies for reading this over for me. - Rosalie


University was hard and stressful but you loved every second of it. You had made friends with all the History majors, your dorm roommate was hilarious and the campus coffee pop-up stand was a lifesaver, literally. University was everything you expected to be and more, you did think it would be more partying at 4 am but you did go to the occasional one or two at the weekend.

Except for this weekend. This weekend is spent in the library on campus, researching medicine in the 18th century. You had been arriving as soon as the doors opened and staying to just before closing time.

Also, you couldn’t lie the man running the library this weekend was hot. When you walked in on Saturday morning, he was perched behind the oak desk with a book, glasses perched on his nose and long hair tied back into a bun. White button up shirt tucked into blue denim jeans. He was intimidatingly handsome, rugged with the unshaven face but adorable in the sense his mouth moved as he read; muttering the words to himself.

You had, admittedly, been slightly creepy with the staring when reading about history became boring. He was just so intriguing to you. You hadn’t seen him work here through the week, you hadn’t seen him around campus either, he was an enigma to you. You wanted to know more but yet, you didn’t want to go up and just talk to him. So, you kept to sneakily peeking over the mountain of books at him.

When you walked in on Sunday morning it was dead. Everyone had gone out partying Saturday night, leaving the library to be empty on Sunday as they all nursed their hangovers. He was there, sat silently behind the desk, till he glanced up at the door opening and smiled at you. Pride and Prejudice perched in his right hand.

Keep reading

angel on fire

Summary: Your job was supposed to be simple: watch over Steve Rogers. Never did it occur to you that someone else would attempting to corrupt him. || demon!bucky x angel!reader || oneshot (?)

Warnings: smut and all that entails it ends kinda abruptly though, shitty ending, cursing, mentions of blood/violence, dub consent(??????), overuse of the name angel 

Notes: @sanjariti helped me with the title lol, its from a halsey song, im sorry this is terrible

Originally posted by injectablefame712

Keep reading

His || Jungkook || 0.19

Member: Jungkook x Reader

Type: Angst, Fluff, Smut.

Teaser | 0.1 | 0.2 | 0.3 | 0.4 | 0.5 | 0.6 | 0.7 | 0.8 | 0.9 | 0.10 | 0.11 | 0.12 | 0.13 | 0.14 | 0.15 | 0.16 | 0.17 | 0.18 | 0.19 |

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hi, I just wanted to say the the gods & monsters series is one of the most wonderful things I've read. I know that some already have Hades in them but could you please do one about Hades and Persephone meeting? That would be amazing, thank you

Apollo comes to her, warm and smiling. He likes her body, its gentle curves, the flawless skin, how it shines with the youth and strength of spring. He is the sun and she is the earth, and it is from his rays that she gains her strength, and it would be expected of them to love each other. The god is golden, from his skin to his hair to his mischievous eyes, and there is not an inch of him that is not as lovely as the rays of sunlight peeking through the leaves.

Kore is not stupid. She knows Apollo does not linger, that she will be a wife in name and little else; he will lie with her and worship her and then grow bored of her.

Hermes comes to her, eyes sharp and hands gentle. He likes her mind, her acuteness, the way she views the world as a gem cutter would a raw emerald. He is wings and air and she is firmly rooted in the earth, she is as far from him as one can be, but his skin and hers are the exact same shade and she finds the shape of his mouth pleasing. She likes the way he considers her his equal.

But Hermes is meant to fly, spends his time carrying messages for Zeus and meddling in things that ought not to be meddled in. He may be a fine enough man, but he’s no husband.

She has two offers – each from powerful gods, each attractive and clever. There’s no reason she should find them both as unappealing as congealed chicken fat, yet she does.

“I do not often find you alone,” a deep, feminine voice says, and Kore suppresses a sigh as she turns to greet the approaching woman. She sits deep in the forest under a blossoming apple tree, but this is not her dominion alone.

“I am not often alone,” she concedes, observing the blood soaked goddess. “I’m assuming none of that is yours?”

Artemis doesn’t have enough hair to toss it over her shoulder, but she runs a hand through it, pushing it out of her face and streaking it copper in the process. “Of course not. I hope you weren’t too attached to the bucks of this forest.”

“Animals are not my concern,” she answers, “Besides, I am the goddess of spring, and therefore am born from death. It would be foolish of me to reject that which bore me.”

“Funny you should say that,” she says, “since all of Olympus is gossiping about how desperately you seek to leave the sanctuary of what bore you.”

Kore raises an eyebrow. Artemis is clumsy with her words, but she supposes the woman has never had a need to be otherwise. There are few as transparently straightforward as the huntress. She smiles, “Perhaps it is more funny, dear cousin, how easily the words prison and sanctuary become entangled.“

Artemis crosses her arms and sucks her lower lips between her teeth. “No,” she says finally, sobering, “I don’t think that’s very funny at all.”

Kore arranges her skirts around her, the green of the thread and that of the grass nearly identical. “If you’re here to plead your brother’s case for my hand, I’m willing to listen.”

The huntress snorts, derisive, and Kore raises an eyebrow. “I would not recommend my brother’s hand,” she says, “There are other parts of his anatomy which leave many satisfied, however, if that falls within your interests.”

“I am a more desirable bride as a virgin,” she answers instead of saying that the thought of touching a man she does not love makes her skin crawl. Artemis laughs as if she just told a joke, but if so Kore is ignorant of the punchline.

She does not know if she could love either Hermes or Apollo, at least not for the eternity that marks a god’s impossibly long life. It would result in a rather lackluster love making, which is presumably their main goal in pursuing her.

She dislikes her options. Behind her is the gilded cage of her mother’s overprotectiveness, and ahead of her lies the gilded cage of a loveless marriage.

“Kore,” Artemis says, frowning, “if – if you are to defy Demeter, you must go someplace that she cannot enter, a place where her magic cannot reach you.”

“Where might that be?” Kore asks dryly, “She is as I am – all that grows from this earth is our domain. Perhaps in the sea I could hide from her, but Poseidon is no friend of mine and has no reason to grant me asylum.”

Artemis shrugs, a wry twist to her lips. She cracks her neck on either side and walks back from where she came, but not before calling out over her shoulder, “I guess there is no such place Kore, goddess of spring, born of death and Demeter.“

Kore is still for a long time, staring at the place where Artemis stood.

Perhaps she is not so clumsy with her words after all.

 ~

Slipping away from her mother’s watchful eye is always monstrous task, even more so since the rumors of her proposals, but she manages. She finds the River Styx and follows it against its current, walking past and through all the warning sign that she’s gone too far, ignores the prickle along her skin as she crosses the threshold from this world to the next.

Almost immediately she comes across a hooded figure standing besides a small boat. “Charon,” she greets confidently. She tries to catch a peek under his hood, but he tilts his head away from her and manages to give the impression that he’s frowning at her even though she can’t see his face. “I need passage across the river.”

“You are not dead, lady goddess,” he says.

She holds out a shiny gold coin, “I can pay.”

“You are not dead,” he repeats, “You may not be ferried across.”

She nearly snaps at him, but instead takes a firm hold on her temper and thinks. Charon did not say she was not permitted to enter the underworld, only that he may not ferry her across. She peeks into the rushing river. It’s so powerful and fast that it churns grey foam and the water itself looks black, or perhaps that is simply whatever lies beneath. She skims her hand across the surface and the skin of her fingertips comes away burned and blistering.

“May I swim?” she asks.

“There are no rules preventing the impossible,” he tells her, but his shoulders stiffen as if he’s grown nervous.

Kore is not nervous. Either she survives and manages to enter the underworld, or she dies and Charon will have no choice but to ferry her across.

She sheds her gown – it will only weigh her down and get in her way. “My lady goddess,” Charon says, and Kore would almost say he sounds panicked. “Please do not –”

She jumps into the river.

It burns all over, white hot pain that makes her want to scream, but she has no interest in discovering what would happen if she were to swallow any of this supposed water. The current fights against her at every turn, and her muscles bunch and strain to not be swept away. It’s improbably difficult, the most difficult thing she’s ever done, but she grasps the edge of the shore with peeling hands and heaves her bloody body unto the ground.

Her entire body is one throbbing wound. Perhaps she should have listened to Charon before diving headfirst into the river, but it’s too late for regrets.

“Are you insane?” a thunderous voice demands, and then she’s being lifted by strong arms until she’s settled against a muscular chest.

She forces her eyes open, and the man glaring down at her has hair the color of the night sky and skin as pale as bone. His nose is long and sharp, his mouth wide and thin. The only bits of colors are his eyes, a green so dark that at first glance they look black. She raises a hand and cups his face, and the water clinging to her doesn’t seem to hurt him the way it hurt her. “Hades,” she says, and everything pains her just as much as before but his skin soothes hers. The skin on her palms comes away healed.

He’s angry with her, but his touch is gentle. There’s not a stitch of clothing on her, but he doesn’t glance or grope, only pulls her against him and uses the sleeve of his robe to clear the burning water from her face. “Yes, insane goddess, I am Hades.”

She had not meant to meet him, only to hide among his realm until she could think of a better plan. But she likes him already, an instantaneous and childish feeling, one she can’t remember having before.

She turns into his chest and lets out a pleased sigh, content to go wherever he brings her.

“They call me Kore.”



gods and monsters series, part vii

Ultimate Viktuuri FicRec

(☉‿☉✿) I know y’all have been craving some Viktuuri fics, even more so since it’s already ended and we have to wait for season 2. So what better way to pass time than to read some good ol’ fanfics. Here’s a list for you guys. ENJOY   (ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ*:・゚✧


From the moon by ButterBeerBitch

Victor Nikiforov, the living legend, winner of five consecutive World Championships and five straight Grand Prix Finals - was in Yuuri’s bed. Yuuri’s bumpy, squeaky bed, with the Pokémon stickers peeling off the frame and the unwashed sheets.
“Smells like you,” Victor mumbled, careful and coy.

Yuuri was on the verge of passing out.

-

Or that one time Victor finds out why Yuuri has never let him inside his bedroom because….well, we all know why…


Things we’re all too young to know by incode

Victor miscalculates a date.


Family Arrangements by xshiroi_aki

“It’s like watching a kid, his parents, and his grandparents.”

Her marriage status aside, it kind of made sense.

That was an arrangement she could work with.


In your area by Suzariah

“Hot Russian singles are in your area.”

Yuuri probably wishes he had adblock. Victor is amused.


Get me to the Church on time by InsomniacArrest

Stories of various characters on the day of Victor and Yuuri’s wedding.

Everyone on the big day as Victor and Yuuri prepare to get hitched.


Disaster by LFMH021

“I know that one way or another, Viktor will marry you anyway. I will be your best man right so–” Phichit stated.

Chris raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? I’m pretty sure I am the best man in their wedding.”

Yurio frowned and crossed his arms. “I was the one who suffered when these two were still pining each other. I think I deserve to be with them at the altar at the very least.”

Yuuri and Viktor glanced at each other, torn.

Yuuri didn’t really expect that Viktor’s statement about their engagement and [if] marriage would bring disaster and chaos into their night right before the Grand Prix Final’s Short Program.


Habit by LFMH021

Yuuri has developed a habit. Before competitions, whenever he wants to concentrate and exercise at the same time, he faces the wall, braces his forearms on it and then wiggle his hips while trying to recite over and over again his routine.

With earphones in and eyes shut, he doesn’t see the way others stare at him. Viktor does, though, and try to bring their attentions away. Phichit and Chris are little shits, as usual.


Amateur or Expert? Watermellonsmellinfellon

“The instructor at the local ice rink was cute. Cute with his glasses on and downright sexy with them off. And Victor just really wanted to spend some alone time with him, but there seemed to be no free time in the other’s schedule. Which left Victor considering other methods.”

In which Victor pretends he isn’t a figure skating genius all so he could talk to Yuuri.


Next time he’ll ask by Kaylin and Kira (Saphie)

Yuuri gets experimental and tries out something new in bed – calling Viktor “daddy” – but because of Viktor’s insecurities about aging, things go unexpectedly (and absurdly) wrong. [Not a daddy!kink fic so much as a humorous subversion.]


Passive-Aggressive by JapaneseAnimeFreak16

Chris has seen many strange things in his life, but he’s never seen this.

“Victor…why are you eating cereal with a spatula?”


Love Like You by LFMH021

“Viktor, it’s your turn to throw the garbage, right?”

“Nope~ Can’t remember such an agreement~” Viktor sing-sang, tiptoeing back to their bedroom.

“Yuuri, did you eat my pint of ice cream while I was out?”

“H-Huh? No way!” Yuuri spluttered with a speck of chocolate on the corner of his lips.

With each other and Makkachin by their sides on their own cozy home with framed (stolen, random and wedding) photographs occupying most of the wall, Viktor and Yuuri couldn’t ask for more.

[Basically, just a domestic Viktuuri fluff wherein Episode 11 was resolved, both of them retired but they both applied as coaches [with Yuuri as skating tutor for kids], they got married and were now living happily in their own home with Makkachin in Spain. Alternating POVs.]


Liar Liar Pants on Fire by shingeki_no_llama

Yuuri’s (not-so-secret) secret gay crush on Victor is discovered after Victor storms into his room unannounced! How will his idol and newfound coach react?

Hint: he will be very touched *wink*


Of Onsen-Holly Water by Moe_Bear

So, here’s the deal: in order to achieve such perfection, one must obligatory have contracted with Satan himself. There is no other explanation. Yuri Plisetsky is damn sure about it.


All the Times Yuuri ran from Viktor, and the One Time He Didn’t by Reisil

Or, the five times Yuuri ran from Viktor, and the time that Viktor held on.
In which Yuuri finds that he is constantly running from Viktor, until Viktor decides he’s had enough.


Just Date Me Already by Ame (Ulan)

Victor has never wanted anything more in his life.

“Yuuri, go out with me.”

“Eeh?”


let him know by mutation

Victor returns to Hasetsu alone. When he arrives at the Katsuki household, someone is waiting for him.


remembrance by doubletan

Victor remembers the confusion, hurt and rejection when he finds the empty hotel room that had once been occupied by an individual bearing the name of Katsuki Yuri hours ago, and said individual was now en route to Japan. He remembers sinking to the carpeted floor in his pajamas before returning to his own room to curl up in his comforter. He remembers Yakov coming over to help him pack with pity evident in his eyes when the check out time had long past and Victor was nowhere to be found. And all Victor could do was lie immobile on the bed with tears he thought would never end. He remembered lecturing his own self mentally, that it was ridiculous to act this way for someone you had only met once, but yet, he could not deny the fact that last night was the first time Victor had felt honestly living, relieved from the burdens and expectations as a renowned and international ice skater. Being with Yuri had felt absolutely right.

or a fic of how a heartbroken Victor had fared since that banquet and how he finally won Yuri’s heart


Looking for A Clue by rosenlight

It takes one touch and Yuuri’s head goes haywire.


Take My Hand - Take My Whole Life Too by shingeki_no_llama

Victor Nikiforov thinks he knows just who has their thoughts scrawled so carelessly on the back of his hand. He can only pray he is right.

———
Soulmate AU where the thoughts of your soulmate inscribe themselves on your skin in a temporary ever-changing tattoo


Ask Me by MarginalMadness

Sometimes life doesn’t work out the way you want it to. Especially when you give someone else the power to break your heart.


stay by my side by paranoid_fridge

“Finally!” somebody shouts and Yuuri jumps. Russian Yuri stomps toward him, expression dark. “He’s on his third round of that.” Yuri jerks a thumb to the rink behind his back. “Make him stop before he hurts himself.”

Aka Yuuri says “let’s end this”, Viktor turns to melodramatic skating, they get to cry and kiss (in that order) and all is well in the end.


Masks off by emulikule

And so the story goes that a playboy comes to a town, makes it fall in love with him and then proceeds to get himself enticed by the most mysterious person there.

Wait… did it really go like that?


Stress Is Bad by MEIXIU

“I can’t handle this. Stress is bad for the baby.” Yuuri deadpans.
If everyone were drinking something, they would have spat out their drinks in surprise.


An Examination of Stamina by Viktor Nikiforov by Anonymous_Ostrich

“Viktor…” Yuuri’s voice was low and gravelly, his teeth grazing the bend of Viktor’s neck, “Is it really okay to keep going?” His cock stirred inside of Viktor, still rock hard, still eager. The feeling of Yuuri’s semen trickling slowly out of his stretched hole made Viktor shiver, and he grabbed Yuuri’s chin in his hand, yanking his face up so that their eyes could meet.

“I’ll say this once, Yuuri. Give me everything you’ve got. Don’t stop even if I beg for you to.”


Accidentally Seductive  by braveten

Yuuri Katsuki is a walking contradiction.

(And it’s driving Viktor mad.)


Out For A Walk by Cinnamean

Yuri goes out with Yakov to explore town and gets separated from his coach. Walking around town with no money for food, he runs into the two infamous lovebirds.


Darling, Please Don’t Ask Me by HisRedEmpress

Sometimes, letting things left unsaid can be harmful.

But sometimes, only sometimes, there’s just no words needed.


yuri is even more done with everyone than previously believed by thankyouforexisting

There are things Yuri isn’t proud of, regardless of how superior to everyone else he is. Few things, of course, but still there nonetheless, though he loathes exposing them. One of his regrets might be, for example, not reading the summary of Fifty Shades of Grey before his mom mentioned off-handedly, “We should watch it, Yura.” (He can never look at her in the same way again.)

Going out for Victor’s “ exciting stag night” (which is a terrible name for it, as it mostly consisted in him sitting down and watching skaters get progressively drunker as they tried to do jumps off ice on the corner of a busy street, while everyone stared) and allowing himself to be roped into a hopeless bet has just become his newest, most fresh regret.


Unwritten by kaizuka

Soulmates AU where whatever you write on your own skin appears on your soulmate, but when there is a language barrier, meeting becomes just a little more difficult than it should be.


A Safe Place To Fall by uchiuchi

“Can I…?”

Viktor’s voice breaks Yuuri out of his trance and he focuses on Viktor, waiting for the words to come out. But Viktor doesn’t say anything more, eyes flickering between Yuuri’s eyes and mouth, and then his finger stops moving and he pulls it back.

He looks like he has more he wants to say, but doesn’t.


I’m Right Next Door by i_like_my_eggs_benedict

“The first time he heard it, Yuri Plisetsky thought he was imagining it.”


On Our Love by LiaoftheDawn

Everything was so easy and real with Yuuri. Even with the lingering tension and the unspoken inevitability of separation, they somehow managed to fall back into something close to a routine, effortless conversation, easy jabs and quiet smiles and something he wanted to hold on to for the rest of his life. Home.

Or the one where Victor thinks he’s doing the right thing, manages to disappoint all the Yuris in his life, and still everything works out at the end.


victory cheer by SportsAnimeRuinedMyLife (KnightOfRage)

Victor kissed Yuuri. You better believe all of these people have something to say about it.

Or…Mari is exhausted, Minako is confused, Nishigori is supportive, Yakov is annoyed, Yuri is pissed, Phichit is the best friend anyone could ever have and Yuuri just wants to kiss Victor again.


Five Kisses by oh_imintrouble

It hadn’t seemed out of the ordinary at the time. Victor had always been free with his affection; throwing out compliments, light caresses, even the occasional peck to the cheek. After a little over a week of having him as his coach, Yuuri was sure he had gotten used to it. It was just a Westerner thing, no use getting riled up if Victor wasn’t going to be stopping it anytime soon.

Then it happened.

~~~

Victor likes kissing Yuuri and Yuuri is frustratingly dense


rumour has it by lunaetude

Viktor Nikiforov is a genius. He tops the level without having to study and he can perform most spells without his wand. He was the second-ever first-year Seeker in the school, and the first Slytherin one at that. He’s a Parselmouth and he’s tamed the other basilisk hidden in the school’s plumbing. He has washboard abs and really defined hipbones. He’s the only son in a long line of pureblood Slytherins and he’s half-Veela and he can speak Mermish and he was born as Voldemort’s secret daughter which is why he’s prettier than half of the girls in school and—

‘Where do you even get all these?’ Viktor asks, eyebrows drawn together in bemusement. ‘I’m not even a pureblood, I’m Muggleborn.’


Dance Along by feelslikefire

Five Times Victor Kissed Yuuri, and One Time Yuuri Kissed Victor


Hold Onto Me by novocaine_sea

“Let’s end this.” Yuuri said, but it was the last thing he meant.

That was the last thing he wanted to say.


True Eros by Nerd_Queen

Viktor can’t sleep. Thats when he hears it.

A groan


the history books are made for us by d10smessi 

Victor thinks, I’ll never love someone this way again.

or: Victor Nikiforov, on loving Katsuki Yuuri.


a kingdom, or this by perennials 

The problem is, Yuuri sees Viktor’s face light up at every performance except his own.

The problem is, Yuuri takes off his glasses when he skates.

The problem is, Yuuri doesn’t see.


Addicted (to the taste of you) by smudgesofink

It’s mortifying. Of course it’s mortifying.

But even with his hands restless by his sides and his stomach buzzing with butterflies and adrenaline and nerves, Yuuri finds that he oddly doesn’t mind the attention. Or rather, Yuuri can’t bring himself to care, for once. He’s exhausted to the bone from his performance, eyes slow and limbs heavy from running on little to no sleep for more than 24 hours now, not to mention kind of emotionally drained from his mental breakdown earlier.

If anything, Yuuri kind of wants Victor to kiss him again. Preferably right now.

At once.

Immediately.

(It’s turning into a problem.)


Five Times Viktor and Yuuri Were Jealous of Makkachin (and the one time they weren’t) by braveten

“Viktor will do whatever is necessary in order to never see Yuuri cry again. He’d walk miles across broken glass. He’d relinquish all of his gold medals to JJ Leroy. He’d let Phichit hack his Instagram account.”


Viktor and Yuuri are jealous of Makkachin on multiple occasions, but the adorable brown poodle might be the only way to get them to realize their love for one another.


constellations of me and you by theargonaut

He can’t look away from Viktor, even when he turns and catches him staring. Truth be told, he can never look away from Viktor. Not even in the beginning; surely, not in any dimension or attic of spacetime, could Katsuki Yuuri have ever looked away from Viktor Nikiforov. And when Viktor looks back at him, smiling, it’s all that matters to him.


Question and Answer by chellethewriter

Viktor is growing old, and his competitors seem to be growing younger and younger. Thus, with every passing year, Viktor finds fewer familiar faces at his Grand Prix banquets, and he wonders whether his attendance has become pointless. What he doesn’t realize, however, is that one unfamiliar, alcohol-reddened face can make the whole night more than worthwhile.


(A canon-compliant retelling of the banquet in which Viktor falls head-over-heels for a certain drunk, Japanese figure skater, and Yuri Plisetsky is both displeased and incredulous).


Pretty For Me by blushunder

A month and a half into becoming more than just skater and coach, Viktor is struck by a realization while Yuuri tries on his old costumes.


Nighttime Sparklers by brumalbreeze

“If anyone should feel lucky, shouldn’t it be me?” Yuuri murmured. “I mean, you’re the Viktor Nikiforov, after all. You could have anyone you want….”

Viktor let his breath fan evenly over Yuuri’s neck as he listened to his words. Though he couldn’t see it, he could imagine Yuuri’s knit brows and small frown. He tightened his grip around Yuuri’s waist and thought about what had happened earlier in the day. This was a different scenario, but Yuuri was feeling anxious and unsure again, and he needed comforting. Viktor didn’t want to mess up this time. He wanted to do things right.


i know my madness by astoryaboutwar

It’s hardly a secret that Victor Nikiforov is a massive player.

(In which Yuuri doesn’t blow the Grand Prix Finals the first time round, does blow Victor, and everything changes but ends up the same.)


– updated version below this  (✿◠‿◠)–


I want to stay close to you by Cloud111

Yuuri swallowed, letting his head turn back to the legend sprawled out on his bed. To the first person to reach out for him after he’d pushed them away. To the man that had taught him to love himself and taught him to want things because he could get them if only he tried.

“I want… you.”


Yuuri!!! On Pole by Noble_Nook

Viktor Nikiforov is an accomplished, world famous dancer-turned-choreographer who has struck out to rekindle a spark he seems to be missing after so many years on and off the stage, only to soon find it wrapped around a stripper pole in Japan.


Until My Feet Bleed and My Heart Aches by Reiya

‘…Of all the rivalries in the world of sports over the years, perhaps none has become so legendary as that of Russian figure skater Viktor Nikiforov and his rival, Japanese Yuuri Katsuki…’

A single event changes the course of Yuuri’s life, throwing him into a bitter rivalry with Viktor Nikiforov that spans across his entire skating career. But as the years go on, rivalry and hatred begin to develop into something very different and Yuuri doesn’t seem to be able to stay away, no matter how hard he tries.

Hatred and love are two sides of the same coin and even though everything changes, some things are still meant to be.


On My Love by RikoJasmine

For the second time, the Sochi Grand Prix Finals arrive, and with it a reborn Yuuri Katsuki. “Viktor,” Yuuri thinks over the pounding of his heart, the crowd going silent as the music begins. “I’ll show the world what you meant to me.”

Yuuri often thinks of his life as Before and After Viktor Nikiforov, the marking point being the day Viktor swept into his life and turned his world upside-down. After many years together, an accident leads to Yuuri suddenly waking up in the Before—back in Detroit, before the GPF, before he ever knew Viktor as anything other than his childhood idol.

As if it had all been just a dream.


I Wanted To Check by insatiablerealist

Yuuri is an artist, Viktor is a ballet teacher, and they find themselves sharing an apartment in Barcelona. The only problem is they speak two different languages, but despite that, they fall in love.

Love Actually AU based on the Colin Firth/language barrier storyline, you don’t need to know the movie to get the story. The setting etc is all changed but the plot is mostly the same.


you’re like heaven to touch by lazulisong

“Is this because I let you watch American movies as a child,” says Yakov flatly. “The ones where the popular boy gives his coat to the pretty girl?”

Victor puts up both eyebrows in a delicately mocking gesture that was unbearable when he was a fey creature of sixteen and makes Yakov yearn to clip him around the ears now, when he’s twenty-eight. “'Let’ me?” he says.


5 Lessons on Sexuality Victor Taught Yuuri (+1 Lesson Yuuri Taught Victor) by angel_kink

Whether Victor realized it or not, he taught Yuuri many valuable things about sexuality. But Yuuri had a lesson for Victor as well.


Move Close by SigmundFreud

Now fully awake Victor could feel his morning wood pressing against his lover’s ass. Damn. He wondered if Yuuri would be upset if he woke the student up for a short love making session before work and school.


the distance between our fingers by awkwardedgeworth

If Otabek were a bystander, he would see Victor Nikiforov being a ruthless coach, raising his voice at Yuri’s less than stellar free leg, It’s a normal occurrence, the older retired skater pointing out areas Yuri can work on.

But Otabek is not a bystander, and he sees the glint of a golden ring from Victor’s right hand, slipped around his ring finger like a reminder.

A reminder that Victor, estranged with nowhere else to go, was picked up by Yuri and Yakov to go back to Russia so he can have a semblance of a life back.

A life without Yuuri Katsuki.


I see the universe in your eyes by fangirlandiknowit

Before Yuuri realizes what’s happening, he’s been kissed by Viktor Nikiforov.

It’s a small kiss, but Viktor’s lips are soft and dry, brushing over his slow enough that he can feel the tingle of it for minutes afterwards.

It was a kiss, and-

If Yuuri wins, he can ask for another.

Maybe more than one, even.

(Maybe he’ll ask for as many kisses as there are stars in the universe.)



The Grass is Dead by ztellar

It had been two days since the house next door had been moved into, and today, Saturday, it seemed that whoever was going to live there had finally moved in themself. It was all anyone in the neighborhood would talk about, Morooka had even stopped by for a surprise visit so that he, Phichit, and Yuuri could watch their new neighbor from Yuuri’s kitchen window.


The only cue of someone even living in the house was the chitter of a sprinkler in both the front and back lawn.


“He’s got a pretty nice looking car, from here,” Morooka commented.


“Yeah but who has a nice car and moves into a shady house?” Phichit retorted, his question seemingly rhetorical. After a beat of silence he made a tch sound and cocked a hip, “Only pimps or rich kids running from their super sad and oppressive lives, that’s who.”


An Alternate Payment Scheme by exclamation

Yuri and Victor never did discuss what Victor’s coaching fees would be. When Yuri brings the subject up again, Victor has some interesting ideas.



Hell No by LoveActually_rps

Would you tell anyone when you accidentally learn that the person you adore the most and the person you hate the most are actually soulmates? Hell no! [– a novel by Yuri Plisetsky]


Buy 1, Get 50% Off by ayyyywhatsup

Yuuri is just a 21 yr old college student who is trying to win at life. When he gets into an argument with his roommate, Phichit, he rushes out of the apartment to make amends. The only shop he can afford is a dainty flower store in the busy city of Detroit.

Flower shop! AU


Then you should have put a ring on it by ObsidianAbyss

Recently, it’s become a trend for students to exchange rings with their significant others. Although Yuuri is very much single and uninterested, he wears a pretty ring that mostly goes unnoticed by his peers.
That is until Victor Nikiforov starts wearing an exact copy of Yuuri’s ring and flaunts it around.

Loosely based on Only the Ring Finger knows


He Did More Than Drink Till Dawn by TrashBambi (orewakei)

Viktor had spent so many nights fantasising about the Japanese man, remembering the way he’d ground against him as he begged Viktor to be his coach. 


Anything Could Happen by Creepikat

After two years Viktor and Yuuri finally get married. They rent a Hotel near Detroit, in a beautiful and snowy place. Everyone’s here. The future husbands are idiots. Phichit is a best man. Christophe too. And somehow he’s even more dashing than usual. This is gonna be a merry mess. 


To Savior by Kaishiru

“Today is all about you,” Yuuri breathed, fingers fanning out over the obvious bulge in his lover’s trousers.

In which Yuuri makes Viktor’s birthday a day he will never forget.


Mille-Feuille by hanakoto

“You-you were talking dirty, weren’t you?”

“Wow, Yuuri! How can you tell? I could be talking about eating chicken soup and you wouldn’t even know.”

Yuuri discovers that Victor is fluent in French.


Better Romance by EttaMills

Yuuri was no playboy, but he did, to people’s shock, have romantic experience before Viktor. However, it was no love story and bad memories tend to reopen old wounds.


Luckily, Viktor is more than h
appy to not only patch up those wounds, but rub a little salt in the person that caused them. 


Clap Back by EttaMills

A few months after the embarrassing Instagram incident, Yuuri had foolishly thought there would be no consequences.


However, certain hockey players learn that you can’t go after Ice Skating’s number one katsudon without dealing with the squad.


a certain playboy by fan_nerd

@v-nikiforov - The handsome playboy has returned to town. Please pay special attention to my Free Skate tomorrow. ♥♥♥

There’s no way that Victor, Yuuri’s childhood idol, could be calling Yuuri a handsome playboy, just because they’d met eyes at two skating events. Besides, a total stranger had given Yuuri the tickets. It would be totally absurd.

Yuuri frowns, turning his head on the pillow. Wouldn’t it?


Later Date by triste

“Here’s the thing, see,” Victor breezes. “Yuuri mysteriously misplaced his suppressants, so now he’ll be going into heat. It’s a terrible shame, I know, but I could never leave him to deal with this on his own. I’m his alpha, remember? And his coach. And his fiancé.”

“It’s the middle of the season!” Yakov roars. “Vitya, you can’t just–”

“See you in five days!” Victor says brightly.

Then the line goes dead.

Yakov hurls his phone at the window in impotent rage, and it actually makes a bigger dent than Yurio’s did.

“I wish people would stop doing that,” Georgi sighs.


Break the Cycle by SigmundFreud

Yuuri’s neck was bright red, matching the colors of his cheeks. His eyes were half-lidded with pupils blown wide. He could try to avoid Victor all he wanted, but standing this close to the man made Yuuri lose all rational thought. Victor was like a drug, the strongest drug Yuuri knew, and he could never reject those lips.

College AU where Yuuri is a grad student addicted to fucking his ex, and Victor is secretly suffering from heartbreak.


Russian for Dummies by cutthroatpixie

“Are you a beginner?”

Viktor was not a beginner. Viktor was the TA supposedly in charge of this study session. Viktor spoke Russian. Viktor was Russian.

“Sure!”


Strange Bedfellows by ikemegane

When Yuri’s childhood crush showed up at his door, naked, full of impossible promises, the young skater didn’t even know what to think. When Yuri somehow ends up with said childhood crush in his bed, however, his body does the thinking for him.


santa baby, so hurry down the chimney tonight by frolickingangels

Yuuri has a sweet, little surprise for the birthday boy.


Consequences of Jetlag by paintstroke

The morning after Yuuri arrives in St. Petersburg he decides that this might be his one chance to wake Viktor up however he wants…

Shameless fluffy smut, PWP.

Japan is 6 hours ahead of St. Petersburg.


We’ll Remember These Nights by Cornflower

“You look just like the poster in my room,” Yuuri slurred, barely holding himself up in Viktor’s arms, “but you have more clothes on.” He giggled. The words hit Viktor hard, and he didn’t know how much more his weak gay heart could handle. He barely even noticed Yakov leaving the room with his head cradled in his hands.

Or in other words, what really went down at the banquet last year, and what that meant for them now.


So that’s it for now! I’ll update this from time to time but here are some of the fics I found  ╰(◡‿◡✿╰)

Remember to give kudos to the authors!

UPDATED!! (January 02, 2017)

((I know that I didn’t really add a lot but I promise I still have some that I’m going to post, I just feel really lazy atm (▰˘◡˘▰) haha whoops. I thought about making the updated fics into a separate post, sort of like a part two but eh, I decided no to. If there are some repeats from the earlier fics I rec’d let me know so that I can edit it out and also, if you want to submit a fic, please do!   ◕‿◕ ))

Destruction Of A Muse (M) [Final]

Originally posted by bangtannoonas

[Part 1] - [Part 2] - [Part 3] - [Part 4]

Words: 8.418

The harsh slap of your phone dropping to your thigh was what pulled you back into the present, your stomach churning and clenching, your ribs feeling as though they were closing in on your lungs, caging them and preventing any air from getting in. You could hear the barely-there muffle of Tae’s voice, screaming at you to answer him, and it took all the willpower you had to pick up the phone once more and bring it to your ear, hand trembling.

“Y/N, please fucking answer me, I’m losing my fucking mind!” He wailed, his deep voice pitched and terrified.

Keep reading

12 | You’ll Never Walk Alone

BTS + GOT7 X READER [GANG!AU]

WORD COUNT: 5,987

series warnings: mature themes, strong language, violence, substance abuse, eventual smut. this chapter contains graphic content such as violence, torture, death, light smut

Originally posted by younas

masterlist | ask | prev | next

Keep reading

Taehyung takes being mean to you too far. Part.3

[Part.1] [Part.2] [Part.3] [Part.4] [Part.5] [Part.6] [Part.7] [Part.8END]


Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Taehyung’s p.o.v

I don’t know what I’m doing here. I don’t know how I suddenly ended up walking my way here. But here I am, standing right in front of her front door. I knocked and I heard slow shuffling on the inside, I could’ve sworn she took five minutes just to get to the door. I hear the door unlock and the door handle turn. 

“Ya-” I cut myself off from telling her how she took so long to open the door. “You look like shit, what’s wrong with you?” She honestly looked as though she was about to pass out any second now. So I held her arm. 

“What are you doing here?” She slowly spoke out, obviously didn’t have the energy to fight back when I said that she looked like shit.

Keep reading

Transaction [m]

genre : smut
Summary : It was a beautiful transaction. You were his date for the night and your bank account got bigger.

You had your hand ready on the latch of necklace, you couldn’t risk breaking it mid sex. It was far too expensive. 

“Don’t take it off,” he said, voice and tone not leaving any room for argument. 

Keep reading

Not Really Just Friends {S.M}

requested// imagine where you and shawn have a weird dating but not dating relationship and someone hits on him and you get jealous so you do the same thing to make him jealous

author’s note// wtf guys my imagines are getting so many notes what the HELL is going on !!! also i am falling apart!!!

masterlist

You had literally no idea why on planet earth how in the world you had become friends with Shawn. Well, possibly just a little more than friends. But also, just friends. You had both had this discussion an abundance of times, he was busy and famous, and you were busy and not all that famous.  

The reason you met was weird too. Like, it was at a frozen yogurt place. A literal frozen yogurt place and he thought you were hot, so he started to hit on you, rather poorly might you add, and you never let him live that one down. He really didn’t do a whole lot of hitting on girls. He was told to always be polite towards fans, but not flirty. Friendly, not cheeky. He was always told that no matter what, he cannot seem too cozy with a fan, or treat one anymore special than the next. All of his fans were equal, but he’d be lying through his teeth if he were to have said that he was never attracted to a fan. But rules were rules and they were made to be followed… But he broke them sometimes. 

Even though he doesn’t consider you one of the occasions he has broken that rules. There have been many of those, girls he has whispered things to during meet and greets, times he has met a fan at a store and he asked her to coffee, when he would answer a question at one of those question and answers with something a bit more than friendly. 

But you… well you were different. 

He saw you at a frozen yogurt place back in his home town and you didn’t seem to know who he was, but how could you live in Canada and not know who Shawn Mendes was? Everyone know who Shawn Mendes was, and a lot of people knew Shawn Mendes. Like personally. You just didn’t know any of his songs other than the ones that littered all of the radio stations, and you even found a couple of them kind of annoying, and you didn’t wanna bother him, he was kind of a celebrity or whatever. But it doesn’t matter, he went out of his way to talk to you, and hit on you, and he said;

“Why would you get frozen yogurt, it’ll only melt cause you’re so hot.” Which, of course, he would never ever hear the end of. But ever since then, Shawn had a special place in your heart and you had one in his. The incidents with that one rule being broken were no more, because he had you. He knew he had you back at home, who he knew he loved, and he knew he wanted to spend the rest of his days with you by his side. Because he couldn’t think of life with anyone else after he met you. He found himself not caring that paparazzi were always taking photos of the two of you, and since a good bit of those were of the two of you hand in hand, it sure did look like you were dating. 

Which you weren’t, but you also were. Whenever he was home, he spent a majority of his time with you, and when you had time off, you tried to go with him wherever it was he was going, and he never found himself attracted to any of the fans he came into contact with. He only wanted you. 

But you weren’t one hundred percent sure. You didn’t know if Shawn was the only one for you, or even someone you could see yourself with. Yes, you loved him with every single bit of your heart, but the constant touring, and not to mention Shawn was kind of clingy and could often get needy, and you couldn’t go on tour with him was a struggle. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Shawn threw his arms up in the air, only in his boxer shorts as he paced around your bedroom. He was home for the weekend, and you were kind of fooling around, when he said he loved you. He asked if you loved him back and you simply said you weren’t sure. 

“Shawn, calm down it’s not like we are official or anything.” You crossed your arms over the blanket that was covering your completely naked chest. 

“Oh, we aren’t a thing, at all?” He narrowed his eyes at you, which kind of scared you. You had seen him angry before, but you couldn’t really tell if he was angry. He looked a lot more hurt than anything. You hadn’t ever seen him this upset. 

“No, I didn’t mean it tha-” He cut you off, shaking his head. 

“Oh, but I think you did.” He continued to shake his head, folding his arms over his abdomen. He quickly went over to where his clothes had been discarded on the other side of your bed. He pulled his black jeans up from the floor and started to pull them onto his long legs, the legs yours were tangled up with only moments ago. 

“Shawn, what are you doing?” You grumbled, putting your head in your hands. He had always gotten sensitive around the subject of your status, since he was obviously more invested than you were from an outsider looking in. But really, you loved him just as much. 

“I’m going home.” He started as he buttoned his jeans. “I apparently,” He paused to grab his grey v-neck t-shirt and slip it over his head, “Don’t have any commitment here.” 

You were completely speechless, you didn’t even quite get it that he had left your room until you heard the door shut rather loudly, seeing he didn’t care if your parents heard that you had him over late at night. They didn’t come and bother you though, because you sat there, half naked, sitting up in your bed, already missing him. You couldn’t lie down, the bed would smell like him. He wouldn’t answer if you called him, so you just sat there and you missed him. He had just left, and your skin tingled and ached to touch him again. It felt like only minutes had passed when you saw the sun start to peak through your windowpanes, and you hoped and prayed that everything would be fine now. You lied down, your spine aching and cracking as you flattened your back onto the cold mattress. It still smelled just like him. 

After a couple of hours of a daze that wouldn’t really be considered a sleep, your phone buzzed on the bedside table. You instantly scrambled over, ignoring the fact that your top half was completely exposed. You grabbed your phone, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw Shawn’s name appear across the screen. 

From: that mindez kid

i’m doing a mini radio show concert thing with a meet and greet beforehand starting in like an hour @ Locally Canada. You can come if you want to, don’t know if that’s too much of a commitment for you. 

You groaned, and pulled yourself out of bed, your whole body shivered as it was completely exposed aside from the panties Shawn had never gotten the chance to take off. You realize you had just about no time, so you quickly threw on a black skirt and tucked in a white button up and some tights with those black flats with cat faces on the toes you had gotten yourself as a christmas present, throwing your hair up in a top knot and not even bothering with makeup. You scurried down the stairs of your house, your family not yet awake as you made your way outside and to your car. As you pushed a key in the ignition, you whipped your phone out and decided to text him and tell him you were coming. 

To: that mindez kid 

i’ll be there in twenty. put my name on the list. 

He read the message and didn’t respond. It bothered you, but you knew he was still pissed. Honestly, he had reason to be. The girl he was in love with had deadass just told him she may not even want to be with him in the long run, that would piss off everyone just a bit. 

But Shawn decided to take it just a little bit too far. 

You drove up to the radio station, striding over to the front, ready to say you were sorry and you would do anything to be with him, because really, you would. The idea scared you, but you knew for a fact that you loved him with all of your heart. You told the security guard your name and he let you inside, and you saw Shawn in the lobby, looking as handsome as ever, but he was talking with some other girl, obviously one of the radio station workers. She was considerably pretty as well, a lot shorter than him, which you knew was something he absolutely loved, since you yourself were a good bit shorter, but not as short as her. Her hair was blonde, and she was skinny and pretty and seemed to literally be throwing herself at him. Or, that’s what it looked like, you couldn’t really tell. 

“Shawn?” You folded your arms over your chest, still a distance away from them. Shawn looked over at you, as if he expected your reaction. Which he did. 

“Oh hey.” He smiled at you, instantly going back to his conversation with the radio station girl that you now hated more than anyone in the world, other than Shawn of course. 

“Oh hey?” You grumbled under your breath, deciding that the only way to get back at Shawn was to play his little game. So you looked around the lobby for a moment, and by a complete act of god, your eyes were met with a fairly attractive desk worker, who seemed to just be taking phone calls and notes. But his arms looked pretty amazing in that blue button up, so you strode over to his desk, feeling Shawn’s eyes follow you from behind you, and sat on the edge. The boy from behind the desk looked up, and he was much more attractive than you initially thought, some might even say he was better looking than Shawn. 

“Hey?” He chuckled, flashing a smile that was worth a million dollars. You were incredibly uninterested in this man, seeing as he looked about as boring and dull as cardboard and looked like a failed male model, regardless of the fact he was one of the most attractive men you had ever seen. 

“How are you?” You smirked, kicking your legs a little, going back to your days in middle school drama club when they tried to teach acting techniques. 

“I’m… Just fine?” He was saying everything as if he were taken totally off guard, it seemed like he was trying to be charming, but it didn’t work.  

“What’s your name?” You started to fiddle with the sleeve of his shirt, knowing you were pushing this way too far. 

“Ali?” The way he spoke literally gave you a headache, and your whole body was relieved when you felt two big hands wind their way around your waist. 

“Will you excuse us?” You heard a familiar voice, and you knew exactly what you had done worked as Shawn basically yanked you off of the desk, and pulling you into one of the empty conference rooms. You saw he was literally fuming, his face bright red and the vein on his neck looked as if it were about to burst. “So what the actual fuck was that?” He snapped. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking ab-” He cut you off. 

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. You can’t keep playing me like this, i’m fucking in love with you, and you can’t say you don’t want to be with me and then just go off an-” This time it was your turn to cut him off. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and pulled yourself onto your toes, pressing a soft kiss onto his lips. He instantly wrapped his arms around your waist, and hummed against your lips until you pulled away and pressed your feet back down against the ground, though he let out a small whimper. 

“I wanna be with you, okay? I’m done with all this on again off again shit. We are together, okay?” You stated, playing with the ends of his hair just a little bit. 

“Sounds good to me.”  

author’s note// SUCH a shitty imagine i hate mySElf

I Think I’m Dying

1964

Sirius had woken up to a coughing fit that made his lungs ache and his throat burn. Regulus was still snoring softly from the other side of the room and Sirius made sure not to be too loud as he slipped out of bed and closed the door softly behind him.

He knew he wasn’t allowed into the study when his mother was working but he hadn’t known what else to do - he’d already lingered at the top of the stairs for an hour, trying to get his mother’s attention without having to actually go downstairs but she’d just ignored him. Sirius pushed open the study door with some effort, tears streaming down his face, chest tight, tiny hands pulling and worrying the ends of his nightshirt. Walburga was leant over the desk, quill scratching on the paper in her manicured grip.

“What is it?” she snapped, turning sharp grey eyes to glare at him, “You know you’re not allowed down here.” Sirius recoiled slightly, his bottom lip quivering. His face was starting to feel heavy and sticky with tears.   

“Mumma,” he whined, “My throat is all hurty and I can’t stop coughing.” He paused for a moment to meet his mother’s eyes, “I think I’m dying.” Walburga curled her lip disdainfully at him, setting the quill aside to cross her arms over her chest.

“Don’t be absurd, you’re not dying now go back to bed and stop being a nuisance!” Sirius hesitated, he had wanted a hug, a smile, anything to make him feel a little better. He balled his hands into fists by his sides, his lip trembling. Walburga pushed away from the desk so suddenly that it rattled against the wall and Sirius almost fell as she strode towards him, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him out of the room back towards the staircase. Kreacher glared coldly at him as they passed the kitchen doorway. Sirius struggled to keep up as his mother marched him up the stairs, stumbling a few times, depositing him in front of his bedroom door without so much as a backwards glance.

“Stupid boy - it’s a wonder I had children at all.” Sirius sat in the doorway of his room and cried. He screamed and he yelled and pounded his tiny fists onto the floor but his mother didn’t come back and, eventually, he fell asleep on the landing curled up in a ball.

**********

1971

Sirius loved being at school - the castle was everything Grimmauld Place wasn’t, it was loud and colourful and welcoming. He’d already made friends with three of the boys in his house: Peter Pettigrew, a shy blonde boy with big round eyes and a nervous smile; James Potter, who was becoming more and more like the brother Sirius wished he had - James was brave and funny and just as up for causing trouble as Sirius was; Remus Lupin often tried to stop them from going quite so over the top with their pranks but Sirius could usually talk him round. Remus was taller than any of them, with long spindly legs and light brown curls that dipped into his eyes constantly and lots of faded scars that marked his cheeks.   

A week into his first term at Hogwarts, Sirius got ill. He’d woken up one morning with his throat closed up and his skin cold and clammy. Determined not to let it ruin the flying lesson scheduled for that afternoon, he’d sucked it up and gone to breakfast with his friends. The Great Hall was filled with the delicious smells of the usual Hogwarts feasts but they just made Sirius want to be sick. He faceplanted the table groaning softly.

“I think I’m dying.” He mumbled to himself. James, who had just been about to launch a spoonful of jam at a totally oblivious Peter on the other side of the table, paused mid catapult.

“Sirius? You alright mate?”

“‘M fine” he mumbled, “I’ll still be able to go flying.” They were probably just worried they wouldn’t be able to go, he thought. Someone touched his shoulder and Sirius slowly raised his head to see all three of his friends peering at him in concern. Remus’ hand hovering above his arm.

“Never mind flying, you’re almost the same shade as Nearly Headless Nick, do you feel alright?” Sirius only blinked at them. Remus looked worried. They all did. But they couldn’t be worried about him, more likely they were annoyed that they wouldn’t be able to go to Ogg’s flying lesson. They’d all been really looking forward to it after they’d seen the Gryffindor team on their way to practice on their second day. Looking at his friends staring back at him, Sirius couldn’t bring himself to lie to them.

“I feel like my stomach is about to jump up my throat and I haven’t been able to breathe properly since I woke up.” He waited for the sighs and the angry muttering and the mumbled ‘stop being so selfish’ that he was used to but none came. Instead James stuck his hand in the air, calling over Professor McGonagall. Remus leant forward again and placed a cool hand on Sirius’ forehead.

“What is it Mr. Potter?” McGonagall asked, peering down at Sirius who struggled not to let his head drop back onto the table top.

“Sirius isn’t feeling very well, can he go back to the dorm?” McGonagall nodded after a moment.

“Of course, he looks dreadful. You’d better go with him Potter. You too Mr Lupin, Mr Pettigrew. Make sure he doesn’t fall up the stairs.” James grinned up at her with a mock salute and ran from the room. Remus took one of Sirius’ arms in his and started guiding him from the Great Hall.

“Why didn’t you say anything Sirius?” He asked quietly. Sirius shrugged.

“At home no one really cared… most of the time they just told me to get over it so I uh, I just assumed it’d be the same here.” Remus gave a long suffering sigh as they reached the Gryffindor tower.

“Don’t be daft Sirius, you can’t help it if you’re ill and of course we care about you. You’re our friend.” Remus turned to say the password, leaving Sirius to try not to betray the fact that even though Remus had stated it like it was completely obvious, no one had ever told Sirius that it was okay to be ill. As they walked through the empty common room and up the stairs to the dorm room Sirius could hear James stumbling around.

“Sirius!” James bounded to a stop in front of them as they pushed open the door, taking Sirius’ arm and yanking him away from Remus and further into the room. “So I moved your bed away from the window so you wouldn’t get cold and I took the blankets off of my bed so you’d be really cosy and- where’s Peter?” Remus left the dorm to look and James pushed Sirius down onto his bed and pushed and pulled at the covers until he was tucked in, eyelids drooping with the soft warmth of an extra blanket.   

A loud clattering on the staircase made his eyes jerk open again to see Peter and Remus returning to the room, both with arms full of food from the breakfast table.

“I didn’t know what you wanted,” Peter said breathlessly, dropping the food onto Sirius’ bedside table, “so I brought you everything I could carry… though, I may have dropped a few of the sausages…” Remus deposited even more food onto the trunk at the foot of the bed before glancing at the clock.

“We should get going or we’ll be late.” James wrapped an arm around Sirius’ head, pulling it into his lap and draping his body over Sirius dramatically.

“But if we leave him alone he could die, Remus, die!” He shrugged one shoulder. “We’ll have to skip all of our lessons to look after him. Won’t we Sirius.” Sirius couldn’t see anything through James’ arms.

“Can’t… breathe… James!” James let go and Sirius relaxed back against the pillows, a slow grin spreading over his face.

“Oops, sorry mate.”

“Remus is right James, we have to go! I don’t fancy being late for potions… a detention with Slughorn would just be listening to him talk for hours.” James got off the bed pouting.

“Fine,” he whined, craning his head back over his shoulder to wave at Sirius, “we’ll come see ya later so hurry and get better.” Sirius listened to them as they left the dorm before letting his eyes drift shut, happier than he could ever remember being.

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

Keep reading

This is fine

‘Hmm’ 

Draco rolled on his sheets, his skin warm because of the covers and the soft light shining through his bedside window.

It was good, those new sheets, that new bedroom. The purple curtains weren’t something he would’ve picked himself but being an eighth year came with its advantages and disadvantages.

He turned again, his eyes still closed. Having his own room at Hogwarts was something he would never have thought could be so great. The silence, the privacy, being able to come and go whenever he wanted. Well, not that he could wander around past curfew but even if he did no one would know.

Draco finally opened his eyes, the sunlight strangely bright for that time of-

‘Fuck’

Draco launched himself off the covers, his legs still tangled in the sheets making him tumble straight to the floor. He cursed again, louder this time, but who cares. He was alone in his room, no one to wake up and, oh well, no one to wake him up either.

So he was late, even though he was sure he’d set up his wand to wake him up.

Great, now his morning had everything to be even shinier than normal. He hated getting up late and had managed just fine to arrive to classes in time until now. He hated it because being late meant receiving unwanted attention from professors who already despised him and classmates who wanted him dead. Potter was usually the one to burst into classes after it’d already begun but all he always got for that were welcoming smiles and good mornings.

Draco grabbed the first pair of black trousers he spotted near his nightstand, putting them on while searching for his belt. He wrapped his green and silver tie loosely around his neck, his black shirt still completely unbuttoned. Draco cast a quick cleaning spell on his mouth, hurriedly heading for the door with shoes in one hand and bag in the other. The common room was most definitely empty so he would just finish getting ready-

Ouch!

A loud thud caught Draco’s attention, wand instantly in hand as an instinct. He should have expected, should have exhaled, turned on his heel and darted out of there because he knew he was just going to be even later now.

But how in Merlin’s name could he turn around on a Potter still in his boxers, black boxers and a Gryffindor tie hanging around his neck like the bloody corridor was an extension of his room. Potter looked up, his cheeks red and an apologetic smile on his face, something that only contributed to unbalance Draco more.

The blond was gaping, his own blood rushing to his cheeks because his eyes couldn’t stay on Potter’s ugly glasses, they had to aknowledge his shoulders, covered in tiny brown freckles; scan his chest and his stomach- fuck, Potter had abs, and his hips, Draco’s eyes could trace his V line…

He froze, closing his eyes like that was the only way he knew how to stop unashamedly maping the Gryffindor’s body.

He opened them when his breathing had evened out to find Potter doing the exact same thing he’d done.

‘I- I’m late’ Draco blurted out, startling Potter who seemed to be unaware of what he was doing.

'Yeah, me too’ His green eyes fixed on something above Draco’s head.

'You’re always late, this isn’t- ’

'What happened to your hair?’ Potter took a step towards him, his shame of being half naked completely forgotten. Draco’s wand remained firmly secured in his hand, though he doubted he’d have the will to point it at Potter even if he had to.

Merlin, he was… hot. That was the word, there was no way he could lie about that. Draco was eighteen and gay and Potter was eighteen and hot and- and so Potter. He should turn around and run the fuck away from there, that corridor was too small for two people to stand at a safe distance and Potter didn’t seem to even want to stand at a safe distance.

He was still looking at Draco’s hair like it was made of gold.

'I didn’t have time to comb it’

Draco looked at Potter’s head, wondering for a second if the Gryffindor had ever brushed his hair.

The dark brown locks curled chaotically around the edges, falling on his forehead and almost covering the scar. His hair was longer than Draco had ever seen it, probably longer than when they were fourteen and Draco first experienced how it was like to develop a crush on someone.

When Potter lowered his eyes Draco could see only thin rings of green around dilated pupils.

'Why would you comb it?’

There, he knew Potter had never brushed his hair. That was be the best opportunity to mock him about it, Draco just needed to open his mouth and-

Warm fingers pushed Draco’s locks away from his eyes, his mouth already open but his mind suddenly blank. Potter was so close Draco had to tip his head slightly down to look at him. His fingers ran through the strands, pressing lightly against his scalp. Draco’s breathing became shallow, his whole body tingling with the sudden proximity.

'I- I need to go’ Draco’s hand reached for his bag as fast as he could. He darted past a surprised Potter on his way to the stairs, Potter’s fingers that were tangled in Draco’s hair falling to his pale neck, touching it lightly for a second.

He wanted to stay, fuck, all he wanted to do was stay. That was the main reason he should go immediately because if he felt Potter’s warmth against his skin for another minute he wouldn’t be able to hold back.

When Draco turned around to catch a last glimpse of Potter, green eyes met grey. He gulped, turning on his heel and heading towards their common room.

Despite being so late Draco decided to keep a slow pace. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to keep in his memory the feeling of Harry’s fingers against his neck.

***

Draco opened his eyes the next morning to find, fortunately, that he was on time.

He sighed, images of the previous day flashing through his mind. He got up, shaking that weird feeling away, and set out for his trunk.

This time Draco decided to go with his best green silk shirt and some tight black trousers - he was in a good mood after all - paired with a silver tie. He was about to grab his bag when Draco remembered he hadn’t combed his hair again, darting his eyes to the mirror hanging on his door.

It looked… messy, but maybe not in a bad way. He ran his fingers through it, pushing the strands back and watching as a few fell on his forehead. Okay, he could try that. His father would totally reprimand him if he knew but Draco decided to go for it anyway.

He closed the door behind him, his eyes already searching for that door opposite his. Potter’s room.

It was locked and no movement could be heard from outside.

Late again, he thought to himself, lingering on the first step of the circular stair. He looked back again, waiting for something he didn’t quite know. No sound, nothing.

He’s definitely going to be late.

Fuck, Draco looked at his pocket watch, confirming that if he turned around now he’d get exactly on time for his first class of the day.

He could knock, a small voice that sounded a lot like his mother’s resonated inside his head.

Draco looked around, checking if he was in fact alone before darting towards Potter’s door, knocking twice. He waited a bit, knocked again. No response.

Maybe he’s not in there, he thought.

Maybe he’s not feeling well, his other inner voice said.

Draco didn’t care, he should just go. But his hand was already on the door knob, twisting it. It clicked, easily letting Draco in despite a red alarm screaming inside his head.

'Potter?’ His voice was low but in the quiet room it sounded much louder to his ears.

The curtains of the only bed in the room were closed, but Draco could immediately tell Potter was there. His deep breathing told Draco that the Gryffindor was sound asleep, the sunrays making his silhouette distinguishable through the curtains.

The alarms were louder now but Draco couldn’t walk away anymore.

He pulled the curtains slowly.

'Potter, you’re- ’

Fuck.

Potter was on his back, a soft blanket covering one of his legs and his waist in a way Draco could see he had nothing beneath it. He was naked, completely naked under that thin layer of cotton.

Draco’s fingertips were tingling, his throat suddenly dry. He wanted to touch, but Merlin he couldn’t even afford to think that.

'Potter, wake up’ he spoke louder this time and Potter all but groaned in his sleep. Draco felt something boiling inside him, anger and lust mixed together.

'Potter, wake up!’ His hand reached for Potter’s shoulder, shaking him before he could stop himself.

A strong grip in his hand pulled him forward and before Draco knew what was happening he found shimself underneath Potter who had his wand pointed at Draco’s throat, a dangerous look on his face.

'Malfoy, what… Fuck, what are you doing here?’

Potter lowered his wand without a second thought, placing it on the nightstand, his expression turning into one of confusion.

Draco stood frozen, his mouth hanging open because the second Potter recognized him all the bastard did was relax, sitting on top of Draco’s thighs like that was the most obvious thing to do when you find your enemy inside your room.

And Draco could feel it. Feel it against his stomach even though the blanket was preventing him from actually seeing it. He darted his eyes up the moment he realized he was staring at it to find Potter already looking at him. He was blushing, green eyes wide open like he’d just realized the strange position they were in.

The thing was, Potter didn’t move, not off Draco at least.

'We’re late,’ Draco’s voice was hoarse when he spoke.

Potter rolled his eyes to what he judged useless information.

'Are those the only words you know?’

That ungrateful git. Draco tried to push him away, shifting his thighs in a way that forced Potter to grab onto something to avoid falling off his own bed. He obviously chose to grab onto Draco’s shirt, tearing up two buttons with the force of his grip. Draco gasped, anger boiling deep inside him. That was his abosolutely favorite shirt and now it was ruined. He was about to punch Potter when something poked him hard on his inner thigh, right beside his own crotch.

Something. Not only something, it seemed.

Draco’s eyes found Harry’s.

'Potter?’ His voice came out weaker than he intended it to.

So Potter had an erection. He was hard, rocking hard right on top of Draco. And naked too. For Merlin’s sake, that wasn’t even the problem.

'Ah… Malfoy?’ Potter looked down and back up at Draco. He smirked, shifting again.

The problem was Draco was hard too.

Draco was hard with a very naked ass sitting on top of him to feel it.

Draco’s cheeks were on fire, his hands griping the sheets so hard his knuckles were white already.

This time he had no way out. Potter had that smirk all over his face and kept moving on top of him, like- like he was adjusting himself… Oh God, Potter’s cock was right there, heavy and hot against his stomach.

'Potter, I… we need to- Oh fuck’ Draco’s head hit the matress, his eyes shutting close as Potter thrust his hips forward.

'Do you really want to leave?’ He was panting, each thrust causing the blanket to slid even lower on his hips. Draco could see hair right below his navel now. Draco’s hands must have left the sheets at some point because now they were grabbing Potter’s thighs with the same intensity.

Leave? He couldn’t leave.

'I hate you’ Draco thrust back, the blanket finally sliding to the floor.

Potter moaned, his smirk turning into a grin. Merlin, he was so hot.

Potter’s hands slid from Draco’s torso to his biceps, forcing his arms above his head. He hold them there, something possessive shining in his eyes.

'Are you sure?’

One of his hands reached his wand and before Draco could even worry about it his clothes were gone. He moaned and Potter moaned, loud, needy.

Because the side of Draco’s cock was pressed against Harry’s ass, rubbing against his hole. It was too much, too suddenly.

'Potter… Fuck this is- ’

Draco flipped them, all his control gone. He stared Potter down, taking in all of it, from his swollen cock to his even messier than normal hair, his green eyes filled with lust and fixed on Draco, his hands, warm and strong roaming all over him.

'How did this happen?’ Potter whispered and Draco froze. Really, how did that happen? They were enemies, they hated each other. He was almost sure that Potter wasn’t gay and now they were there-

Potter smashed their mouths together, kissing hungrily like Draco had never been kissed before. They backed away for air, Draco resting his forehead on Potter’s.

'You don’t really hate me’ Potter said, still trying to control his breathing.

'I do’ Draco bit his shoulder, leaving a red mark there.

'You don’t’ Potter’s grip on his jaw was strong, forcing their eyes to meet again. Everything seemed to change, the atmosphere, the tension between them.

'You’re a nightmare’ Draco whispered against his lips.

'You’re a wet dream’ Harry said back, smirking.

Draco didn’t hate him. He had realized that only after the war but now he knew he probably had never hated Harry Potter.

When he bent down to press their lips together, it wasn’t rushed. They kissed slowly, tasting one another. It was sensual, deeper than before. Potter’s hands were on his hair, his fingers threading through the strands and pulling Draco towards him. They parted again but Potter kept placing soft kisses on Draco’s lips, again and again.

'Why do you do this?’ Draco’s eyes were still closed, his mouth brushing Potter’s as he spoke. Every nerve on his body was aware of it’s surroundings. Draco wanted to scream, stop the time because Potter made him feel like he was eleven all over again, powerless but a lot braver than he was now at eighteen.

Potter moved so he could speak into his ear, hands still on his hair.

'Draco, this is fine’ his words were softer than the ones ringing inside Draco’s head that sounded so much like his father’s. 'Scared, Malfoy?’

There it was, Malfoy and Potter, always Malfoy and Potter. Except Draco wanted this new thing now, because Potter was right. If he didn’t give a shit for the past Draco wouldn’t either.

'I don’t hate you’ he whispered, afraid the words would get stuck in his throat.

It was like an immense weight he didn’t know he was carrying was lifted from his shoulders.

'I don’t hate you, Harry’ he said it again, louder. They kissed one more time. 'Harry’ and again. 'I want to- ah, I want to fuck you, Harry’ the way the name rolled on his tongue was addictive. And everytime he said it, Harry Harry Harry, the boy beneath him would shudder, moan, kiss him again.

'Draco’ his fingers running through his hair. 'Draco’.

Draco backed away, turned Harry on his stomach and kissed his nape.

He kissed his shoulder blades, Draco kissed his spine.

Open mouthed kisses all the way down to his lower back, Harry arched to his touch.

His hands ran on Harry’s sides, one of them reaching Harry’s neck and holding him there possessively.

'You can… you can just…’ Harry turned his head to the side, his hands pushing Draco’s thighs towards him desperately.

'I need to- ’

'I did it yesterday’ Harry’s voice was hoarse and the words came out rushed. 'After we met, I…’

'You were thinking of me…’ Draco kissed the shell of his ear, his hips trembling with need.

'I want you inside, Draco’ Harry fingers dig in his thighs and Draco shuddered, a moan escaping his lips.

Draco reached for his wand, a quick spell smearing his fingers with lube. He found Harry’s hole, tried one finger and found it in fact loose already. Harry bucked against it underneath him. Fuck, he wanted to eat him up, take him hard. He smeared his swollen cock with the lube, aligning himself.

Harry arched his back again when Draco buried himself inside him, his hips hitting Harry’s ass.

'Draco- fuck, please… Draco please

It was so tight, fuck, so hot inside him and the sounds. Harry kept moaning, bucking against him, begging.

'You’re so… Harry, Harry fuck’ Harry was shaking beneath him, his head turning from side to side, eyes closed and mouth open. Draco pounded hard inside him, as fast as he could.

It was desperate, intense, too much. They were Malfoy and Potter and Draco and Harry. And Draco wanted all that, he needed Harry Potter to remember what it was like to feel that fire inside him.

Harry came with his ass up and face pressed against the pillow that muffled his scream. He came with Draco’s cum filling him up, Draco digging his nails on his sides and screaming his name.

When he let his body crash beside Harry, Draco felt different.

'Do you hate me?’ Harry’s playful tone was gone.

'No’

'Are you s-’

Draco pressed his hand on Harry’s mouth, shutting him up immediately.

'You’re a Gryffindor, an arrogant prick with a hero complex. You’re loud and impulsive. Still, I don’t hate you, okay?’

When Draco removed his hand Harry had a frown on his face.

'What does that even mean?’

Draco rolled his eyes, reaching out for Harry’s arm. He ran his fingers there, tracing invisible patterns as he spoke. He liked to touch Harry, he liked it quite a lot.

'It means this is fine, doesn’t it?’

Harry closed his eyes, a small smile playing on his lips.

'Draco’

There, that was why he felt different. Harry made his name sound like something… special.

'Yeah?’

'Will you wake me up tomorrow too?’

He snorted, hitting Harry with the pillow square in the face.

'No’

'What, why not?’ Harry gave him an indignant look that only made Draco laugh even harder.

'I can’t miss another class because of you’

Harry gave him a peck on the lips, startling him. It was so sweet he couldn’t help the blushing creeping up his face.

'Then I’ll wake up before you, Malfoy’ he gave him another peck, the well known challenging look in his eyes.

Draco smiled, realizing Malfoy and Potter could be as nice as Draco and Harry if he got to have him by his side.

Ao3

Mute!Tony: Part Three

Okay, finally, jeez. the stubborn jerk really didn’t want this thing to end happy. It was a fight. But I won. And just to warn you, I cried. I never cry. I pretty much have no soul. So, uh, buckle up? I’ll port this to Ao3 another day. Because it is now complete. 

Part One is Here.

Part Two is Here. 


He hadn’t been seen near them since the fight that blinded – that made Tony – when Bucky almost –

Since the day that Tony left Avengers Tower.

There had been a few skirmishes with minor evil, but nothing serious. Nothing they called Tony for.

Nothing they needed him for.

He checked.

Then he set up Jarvis to alert him even if they didn’t, because it didn’t damn well matter if they wanted him there when things got bad. It didn’t matter if they didn’t want to hear him; if things reached DC levels again, Tony would fly his ass into the middle of it.

It wasn’t like they could hate him any more than they already did.

Not after what he’d put them through.

They sent a few messages. Right at the start. Right after he left.

The first of them popped up on the HUD when he was over Nebraska, two hours after walking out of Bucky’s room with his throat in scorching pain from suppressing any further sound. The displayed showed ‘James Barnes’, and a tiny video preview of the man sitting on the hospital bed.

Tony declined the call.

Keep reading

Wherever You Will Go

Pairing: Prince!Thranduil x reader

Summary: King Oropher tries to make his son take an interest in brides he deems suitable to become Queen, but Thranduil only has eyes for you, a soldier in the King’s guard

Warnings: Oropher’s kind of a dick

A/N: I’m always down for a good forbidden romance. This is my first time writing Thranduil, hope you enjoy!

Originally posted by avengers-of-mirkwood

Keep reading

Dirty thoughts

Pairings: Sirius Black x reader

word count: 3058

warnings: um, implied smut? 

A/N: I hope you like this, it came to my mind some days ago. English is not my first language and i am doing my best, so please whether you like it or not, please let me know. It’s really important because I want to become a better writer. :) ♥ Oh, and if you want a request feel free to ask, just know that it may not be up really fast due to my filled schedule :) 

______________________________________________________________

Originally posted by potter-imagines-here

He was standing in front of me and was studying my shape. That made me nervous so I was looking at the floor. I felt those familiar rough and at the same time soft fingers slowly moving from the neck to my jaw, titling me head up in order to see him in the eyes. He smirked and got nearer, his skin barely touching mine.

“You have no idea what I am planning to do to you, sweetheart.”, his voice sent shivers down my spine after he whispered those words. Then his lips met my soft skin just below the ear. Moaning I tried to burry my hand in his raven black hair but the boy stopped me. Pushing me lightly I fell on the bed. He hovered above me and then I saw the desire in his eyes. I licked, then bit my lips at the thought what he can do to me.

“I’m all yours. Show me what you are capable of.”, I titillate him. That caused only a devilish grin. His hand ripped my shirt and within seconds his skillful mouth was exploring my curves…

“Come on (Y/N)! We must go!”, somebody shouted so loud in my ear that I fell on the hard floor.

“Are you crazy!? What the hell is your problem? You want me to become deaf or something?”, I screamed back.

“Well, you weren’t waking up so I had to do something.”, Lily, my roommate, said back, “Come on, dress up! We will be late for class.”, in response I groaned, not only my ass was hurting, but because she woke me up from my dream that was just becoming interesting. However, just as I saw the time, my almost wet dream popped out of my head and I started dressing. We had Potions and I didn’t want to get in trouble because of my dirty thoughts.

Somehow we managed to get in class just seconds before the teacher did.

“How is my sweetheart? Did she get enough sleep or she kept thinking ‘bout me?”, the familiar voice I had heard in my dreams asked.

“You are not so important to occupy my dreams.”, I looked at him with a smirk, trying to cover the fact that I was lying.

“You are hurting me, (Y/L/N)!”, placing his hand on his chest, where his heart was supposed to be, he acted as though he had been hurt, “Not caring about your boyfriend?”

“You are such a drama queen.”, I smiled.

“No, no, no! I’m a sexy drama queen.”, his façade as a hurt child continued.

“Well, here I cannot quarrel.”

“Oh, and…”, leaning closer to me he whispered, “You were indeed in my dreams last night.”

Those words immediately made my face turn red. I bit my lips and looked down, hiding my smile.

“You are so sweet when you are blushing.”, he stated as he placed his head on both his hands looking as a child admiring something, ”Oh, here you are blushing even more because of my compliments, which are actually true.”, that boy really didn’t know when to stop, “You are becoming as red as my tie sweetie, is it even possible?”

“Stop it, Sirius!”, he was right, I felt my face burning but at the same time I couldn’t stop smiling because of him.

“Why?”, my boyfriend asked simply while looking at me with an innocent look.

“I-um…I just wanna focus.”

“Yeah, sure.”, and with that our conversation finished. I was doing fine for the first five minutes. Then Sirius put his hand on my bare hip. My body immediately tensed. I was used to it, Sirius was really touchy and liked to show that I was his but this time it was different. I glanced at him but it seemed that he was interested in the boring lecture. I put all my efforts in trying to do the same, but Sirius’ hand was burning my skin. The only thing that was roaming in my mind was me, my boyfriend and some dirty things I’d never thought I would think of. I moved slightly so Sirius’ hand would just fall or something but that didn’t happen, he even moved it upwards. I bit my lip in order to stop the moan that was about to escape my mouth. That was it! I removed his hand, something I didn’t do and looked directly at the teaching trying to look as though everything he had been saying was so freaking intriguing. Yet I managed to catch Sirius’ head turning towards me. Usually I liked him touching me and now I hoped that this didn’t make him see that something was not alright.  

Sirius was staring at me almost the whole lesson and it was a torture, honestly. I didn’t want him to feel bad about that my hormones are ‘activated’. But thankfully the class finished soon.

“Hey, (Y/N), wha-”, as Sirius was about to turn and say something I stormed out of the room heading towards my next lesson – Transfiguration. The good news was that my sexy boyfriend had Herbology and I could focus without a problem. Ha, ha, ha! Guess what?! He was stuck in my mind. His simple movement filled me with desire and it was only 9 o’clock in the morning. That slight touch on my hips and bam I’m head over heels for him. Not that I wasn’t but this feeling was kind of new, it drove me crazy. And on top of this everything I did in class was wrong that I had my house with 15 points down. ‘That stupid bastard! Who gave him the right to affect me that way?! Idiot, fucking sexy idiot!’

We’d been dating for almost 8 months but sex was never a topic. Yeah, we did make sex jokes but only that. Something in me believed that Sirius knew this experience was unfamiliar to me and didn’t push me although he was probably suffering from not training his lil’ friend which made me love him even more. But now, somehow used to all the stress about the exams and homework my body finally decided it was time to get what it wanted. Sirius and I of course had passionate moments but only that.

The whole day I’d been trying to ignore him in order to reduce my feelings but as all my efforts through the day…nothing, I repeat nothing succeed. Again lost in my thoughts, searching for something that will occupy my mind I didn’t notice my boyfriend who was searching for me. He pushed me against the nearest wall and got me out of trance.

“We need to talk. Now.”, he stated slowly with his deep and sexy voice. I gulped nervously and as I tried to get out of that situation he stopped me with putting his hands on the wall so I won’t escape. I observed him remembering each detail. His shirt was enlacing his body so perfectly that his muscles were visible. The sleeves were rolled up just above his elbow. I bit my lips and continue my research. His jaw was clenched, and those soft and pinky lips were just inches away from me. Oh, I was dying to kiss them at that moment but did anything to hold that control over my body. And then, finally, his orbits. There was something in him, something in his eyes. If you ever meet that look, then you would understand what I mean. Those cold grey eyes had so much fire in them, fire that managed to ignite my cells, my body. I was burning from desire for those hands around me, those lips connecting with mine and sucking my soul out of my vessel. He was dangerous. Like a spark in a dry forest. Only one look and I was turning into ash, ash of passion and love.

“There is something.”

“What do you mean that there is something, Sirius?”, I tried to play dumb.

“You cannot lie to me, (Y/L/N) and you know that.”, he came closer and I tried to move backwards but the stupid wall was behind me. ‘Stupid Hogwarts teachers, why making a wall just there?!’

“You are wrong, honey. I’m fine.”, faking a smile had to make him believe me but that naïve dog with super senses could detect all my lies.

“Then why are you running away from me as though I am the devil?”

Those questions and that sexy provoking way of talking were getting me out of my skin.

“Maybe because you are!”, as I told that my eyes got wide.

“Have I done something?”, he asked simply.

“Yes, yes you did!”, crossing my arms I looked away.

“What is it?”

“You are hot and sexy and seductive and, urgh!”

“Wait, what?”, it seemed my statement confused him so I used the opportunity to escape. Just as he realized what I was doing he grabbed my hand and stopped me, “You are ignoring me because you find me attractive. Oh god, what a logic.”, he laughed.

“Don’t you dare laughing you idiot.”, I got out of his grip. Trying to look angry I began walking towards my next class. He tried to stop me but thank goodness the room was like 2 meters away and he didn’t manage to tell anything more. ‘What a bastard! How can he laugh about it? He has no idea how this situation is affecting me. Oh, he will regret this!’

The rest of the day went almost quietly. Sirius was nowhere to be seen. That calmed me down and I was able to concentrate on my homework and essays for tomorrow. As I was studying in the library someone say opposite me on the table. I looked up hoping it wasn’t Sirius. When I saw it was Remus I relaxed.

“Hi, Rem!”, I said with a bright smile.

“Hello (Y/N)! Can I sit?”

“Of course, why are you even asking?”, I took some of my books to make space for his belongings.

“Honestly, I don’t know. Just being polite.”

“Rem, I know you pretty well, no need to act as the good boy.”, I winked at him.

“What are you talking about? I am the most innocent person in the whole school, more innocent even from the virgins.”, he stated while laughing.

“Oh, do not be so sure.”, and here we went again, my desires unlocking again.

“Is there something in common with what Sirius had said?”, the boy asked as he opened his books searching for the needed information.

“What had he said? By the way, where is he?”

“Oh, he said and I quote ‘I am too hot and sexy and seductive for my girlfriend and I will give her some time without distracting her’”

“He what?!”, the anger filled me immediately.

“I, um-shit, shouldn’t have said it.”

“Where is he?”

“I-”

“Where is that little bastard, Remus?”, I should have looked really scary because the only response I got was a stuttering answer that my boyfriend was in his dormitory.

I collected all my things in fury and stormed out of the library. ‘Sirius! You better hope that I do not find you!’ Reaching the Gryffindor common room I said the password and got in. The only people there were Lily and James who stopped snogging as I entered. But I was too angry to think about how they finally became a thing.

“Where the hell is Black?”, I said though clenched teeth.

“Oh, um…”, they looked at each other confused then Lily answered, “In the boys’ dormitory.”

I threw my bag with the books on the coach and ascended the stairs. Seconds later I was in front of the door and almost ‘kicked’ it down. Sirius was standing in front of his wardrobe and when I showed with such rage his eyes widened. I entered the room without breaking an eye contact and locked the door.

“(Y/N)!”

“Sirius! I’m glad we know each other’s names.”

He tried to start a conversation but I stopped him.

“How is my hot and sexy and seductive boyfriend going?”

“Moony told you?”, he then continued doing what he was doing to wit untying his tie.

“Yes, he did!”, the view in front of me was so tempting which made even angrier and horny - a bad combination for a girl with raging hormones.

“I don’t understand why you are angry right now.”, he let his tie untied around his neck and looked at me smirking.

“You are making me insane right now.”

“And what are you gonna do then sweetheart?”, coming closer he sent me that challenging look. I grabbed him by the tie and pushed him against the door. Getting closer I whispered

“You won’t wanna know.” and then I attacked his neck with wet kisses.

“Wha- oh, shit.”, he moaned as I reached his weak spot just behind his year. Burying my hands in his soft dark hair I made him come closer so I can kiss him. It was hard to be dominant with such a giant. When our lips connected I felt that it was different than before. The kiss was rough and passionate. I bit his lower lip and used the opportunity to slide my tongue inside his mouth. Those strong arms I knew so well found their place on my ass. I jumped and wrapped my legs around him. Our tongues were fighting and he wasn’t about to surrender. Changing our position, he slammed me up against the wall and tried to gain control but I stopped immediately although I didn’t wish to. I unwrapped my legs and set foot on the floor. Sirius stood there amazed and maybe…shocked? I licked my lips and that lit the desire in his eyes. I saw my lipstick smudged on his lips which made him even hotter.

“I- woah, what just happened?”

“You saw nothing, Black.”, walking toward him he was backing up - that was the only thing his body could do at that moment. I grabbed his shirt and ripped it off, buttons flying everywhere, “You have no idea how many times I imagined doing this.” After that I pushed him so he landed on the bed. Holding his body weight on his elbow he looked at me puzzled. Honestly I had no clue where that confidence came from, especially knowing what was about to happen but I decided to indulge the feeling. Slowly I unbuttoned my shirt throwing it on the floor. Then I slid my skirt down so slowly that caused my beloved boyfriend to groan at the sight. Removing my shoes I stood there only in my black laced bra and panties. Thanks god I was wearing the sexy set of underwear.

Sirius licked his lips and scanned my body. Believe it or not his friend immediately raised which made me chuckle. I hovered above my poor boy and looked him in the eyes. There was excitement, confusion and desire at the same time. Pushing him slightly so he would lay on the bed I positioned my legs from both sides of his body. Staying inches away from each other was killing us. He did want to do something but there was a thing stopping him.

“You used to be touchy. Is there a problem?”, I asked not even confused. Deep inside I felt everything was quite right.

“Moony and Prongs were right. You’ll be the death of me.”, chuckling he finally placed his hands on my lips moving them up and down, along my back and then back on my tights, “You just took my breath away, darling. I’ve never expected such an innocent girl to hide such a dangerous sex goddess.”

Those words made me do something. I’d never thought I could make him feel this way. Being the fuckboy of the school, well before we got together, always made me insecure about my body and abilities. I’d never felt good enough for that boy, and I kept telling myself I was just a toy. I was filled with fear of being rejected; being left from the boy I truly loved.  When we first met I found him too arrogant and cocky but with time passing I managed to look though that façade and see the poor boy, who was dismissed from his own family. A boy that had been hardly understood. A boy that wanted to hide his soft and vulnerable side. When I was with him he was himself, never hiding, never faking his emotions although he could do it pretty well.

My mouth was moving along his chest, stomach and right above his boxers. Sirius was a mess. Every time we had sex he was the dominant one, I’d never felt confident to do such a thing only because I thought I wouldn’t make him feel good. Apparently, I was wrong. Hearing my boy moaning me name was a pleasure for my ears. I licked a line from the bottom to his neck never breaking eye contact. He bit his lips and then threw his head back laughing.

“Oh, god!”

“What? Don’t have the strength to bear this?” , his grey eyes were looking at me dangerously and yet passionately.

“Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe.”, instantly he put his hand on my head and draw me closer. Connecting our lips for a hundredth time that night, Sirius once again tried to dominant me.

“You won’t give me a chance, huh?”

“I want you so desperately that I cannot control myself, babe.”

As I reached my back to unclasp my bra, somebody opened, no, almost broke the freaking door.

“Sirius, I need to-”, James stopped in the middle of his sentence and in the middle of the room shocked. His eyes were moving from me to Sirius and back.

“(Y/n), what are you doing on top of Sirius?”, I was asked simply.

“What may I be doing on top of my boyfriend half naked, Potter?”

“Oooh”, the reality hit his face “You look sexy on him I can confirm.”

“Go away Prongs!”, I and Sirius both said and threw pillows at him.

“Okay, okay, I am leaving. Those little kids and their hormones… ”, he said while closing the door.

“Remind me to kill him later.”, we both laughed and then looked at each other.

“Now, where were we?”

Dark Lovers [4]

An Au Series

Character Pairing: AU!Demon King Steve Rogers x AU!Demon Bucky Barnes x AU!Angel Female Reader

Word Count: 2,975

Warnings: 18+, mentions of torture and violence, nothing major though. Language and King of Hell Wrath.

A/N: As always, @apolla62200, this wouldn’t be possible without you!

One - Two - Three



“You don’t mean that.”

Bucky stood tall, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes had turned black and his wings were spread behind him.

You wanted to smile through your hurt. Bucky didn’t hide his emotions well.

“I do though,” you whispered. “So much has happened in the weeks I have been gone. I fear that I have only made it worse for myself.”

His jaw clenched so hard that you could hear his teeth grind together. His wings relaxed against his back, but his stance was still defensive. “I sense a lot of sadness in you little one.”

You looked at the floor as tears pricked your eyes, “It doesn’t matter.”

“But it does,” Bucky said vehemently. “You were glowing with happiness when you left this chamber. Your eyes and your smile held so much light. But now, all I see is a heavy darkness.”

You shook your head with sardonic laugh, “You’re not wrong.”

Keep reading

ok losers it’s your girl polcry here to run you through the basics of what the darn heck to bring with you to university to cover your naked body 

B A S I C S 

If you’re edgy and ~minimalist~ these’ll probably comprise the majority of your wardrobe. Regardless, you’re going to want to bring at least a few each of these.

LEGGINGS: at least one black pair, possibly more if you’ve accepted the inevitability of not giving a shit how you look at for 9ams. You can also get funky and bring patterned ones if you so desire, you maverick.

JEANS: I prefer jeggings for the comfort feel and ability to do spontaneous high kicks, but if you’re a fashionista boyfriend or bootcut jeans are cool too. Trust me, the freshman fifteen is real and if you have to choose between a lil’ too big and a lil’ too small, go big. Belts exist for a reason.

T-SHIRTS: you can get a wide array of fits of tees, so bring a few of your favourite style in simple colours like white/black/grey/striped. I find slightly wearing a slightly oversized tee gives off a certain effortless vibe, especially if you tuck the front in to the waistband of jeans to give it an IDGAF drape and pair with cute AF shoes. Hella cute with no effort. 

SWEATSHIRTS/JUMPERS/SWEATERS: I live in jumpers. I’m not going to lie. Go oversized with leggings or skinny jeans, maybe add a layer underneath if it’s a lil’ chilly. If you live somewhere that feels like the depths of Antartica, you might want to go with a finer knit and layer under and above. The struggle of getting a thick coat over a chunky jumper is real, guys. Turtlenecks, crew necks, V-necks. They’re all good. Avoid collecting too many sweatshirts with your university’s name on it, though - you will look over-enthusiastic. 

SHOES: one word: COMFORT. Campuses are big places. Chances are, you’ll be walking a fair bit. I love trainers - I have a pair of black Nikes, a pair of white Reeboks and a black slip-on pair. Converse, Adidas, New Balance are all popular. They crop up on the feet of almost everyone. Look down, and I guarantee the vast majority of any university class are wearing trainers. 

If you’re like me and enjoy torturing yourself, you can also wear heeled boots. I find them weirdly comfortable, probably due to my excessively hyperextended knees. Pointy ankle boots always look chic, but frankly people will be so surprised that you’ve made an effort that any type will impress. Zara’s always a good choice for cute boots. 

I’d avoid opened-toed or flats that expose a lot of your foot during autumn/winter/spring. It’ll probably rain, and then you’ll be cold and miserable and have soggy feet. Wellies (or rainboots for you strange Yanks) are a good choice if you’ll be in a wet climate (hello England), but they can be a bit cumbersome. Try and get some lower-cut ones to reduce the weight and to stop you from stomping excessively. 

COATS: this is pretty personal. Again, if it’s wet, I’d recommend something at least water-resistant. I have a North Face windbreaker that I keep in my car in case it starts tipping it down, but it’s not particularly warm. Leather/suede jackets look cute but are not a good choice if it looks like it might rain. Other than that, anything goes. I have a cute beige pea coat from ASOS that I love, and a shearling jacket from Bershka which is far too cool for a dork like me.

L O U N G E W E A R 

PJs: buy yourself some new ones. Please. Your flatmates don’t want to see your lady parts through that ever-expanding hole in the crotch. Some university flats feel like the pits of hell, so it might be a good idea to bring a few pair of short PJs too. You can always swap them out for joggers or leggings when you’re not snoozin’. I can always find cute pyjamas in Tesco, Sainsbury’s and Primark. 

SWEATPANTS: as comfy as PJs but with the added bonus of being socially acceptable. Whether you prefer a tapered, slim fit or big ‘n’ baggy, make sure they’re stain-free and don’t smell funky. Bring a couple of pairs and rotate through as necessary. 

BRAS: regardless of whether you have the athletic capabilities of a sloth or Michael Phelps, you will want to bring sports bras. Hides the nips with basically no discomfort. Bralettes are cute too, but I’m an advocate of sports bras if you’re just slugging out in front of Netflix and nobody is going to see it. Forever 21 do a massive selection of surprisingly pretty sports bras with all sorts of fancy backs. Not so good for exercising, but really the majority of people don’t wear sports bras to exercise. 

F A N C Y 

PARTYING: this will depend a little on where you attend university. For me, going out outfits are high-waisted jeans, a fancy-ish crop top and flat shoes of some description. Club floors get hella slippery. More casual dresses are fine too, but make sure you gauge what your friends are going to be wearing so you don’t look too overdressed.

EVENTS: bring a nice dress or trousers/shirt. There will be fancier events (sports balls, end of term balls, society balls). They don’t always require black tie, so a cocktail dress is a good choice. Boys, bring a suit jacket. It doesn’t have to be tails or a tux, but bringing a tailored blazer that’ll match or compliment a pair of trousers you own will come in handy. And absolutely NO JEANS. Along the same lines, bring at least one pair of smart shoes/heels. Ladies, flats are more than acceptable for fancy events. Just make sure they’re cute. 

BUSINESSWEAR: “But Isabelle!” I hear you cry, “I’m in college! I don’t need businesswear!” Yes, my friend, yes you do. Interviews happen. You might need a part-time job, or get a spontaneous interview for an internship. Bring an office-appropriate skirt/trousers and a blouse/shirt, and some simple, smart shoes. You don’t have to go full-on Olivia Pope, but make sure you have one suitable outfit in your repertoire. 

Q U I C K   T I P S 

Accessories make an outfit: bring a choice of belts, scarves and miscellaneous wraps or shawls. By throwing on a buckled belt and a cute layered necklace, you can go from meh to a-meh-zing. 

Sign up for student discounts: British students, that means unidays. Register with your university email for discounts ranging from 10-25%. They’ll notify you when retailers that don’t have a permanent discount (like H&M) run promotions as well. Make sure you use your discount for eating out and going to the cinema, too!

Quality > quantity: the capsule wardrobe trend is real, folks. I’m an advocate of having a smaller, but better-made and better-fitting, wardrobe over one that’s overflowing and filled with cheap, low-quality clothing that’ll last a couple of wears. If you’re wearing pieces day-in day-out, make sure they’re flattering and of good quality. Having a smaller wardrobe makes moving in and out easier, too, and you’ll spend less time staring at all your clothes trying to mentally piece together something cute. 

Expensive =/= good quality: along the same lines, just because something is pricy doesn’t automatically make it of good quality. You can get really good basics at affordable shops. Feel the material (and make sure it’s relatively opaque), make sure the stitching is solid, and that it doesn’t have pulls or piling or holes. I like New Look and ASOS for simple pieces. 

Make an effort: it sounds silly, but lecturers and tutors do appreciate it when you don’t turn up looking like you’ve just rolled out of bed. Looking presentable makes them feel like you want to be there, which can make them a) like you more and b) more inclined to want to help you out if you need it. It isn’t that hard to put a pair of jeans and a blouse on instead of throwing a pair of joggers on under the T-shirt with ramen stains on that you slept in the night before, is it?

That’s pretty much it. University is a place to explore your own personal style, and you’ll see a massive variety in how people dress. Express yourself, learn what you like on, and don’t feel under pressure to dress a certain way! Style is definitely a creative outlet, so if you want to - use it and enjoy yourself!!