if he smiled much more the ends of his mouth might meet behind

Loki’s New Nickname

Originally posted by wandering-in-hopeless-night

Warnings: Immense fluff, cutesie whipped cream and strawberries and chocolate syrup fights, tackling onto to the kitchen tiles, awkward choking on food, SMUT, fingering, hand jobs, oral, (female receiving) lovey dovey loki

A/N: The wonderful Delilah ( @papi-chulo-bucky ) helped me write some of the smut for this, i became bloody clueless. the (*)  in certain parts of Loki’s speech is a quote (linked)  I’ve used from a blog I found, (trust my you’ll like the sound of it)

Word count:  4812

~

You were wondering around the tower, a book in hand and your reading glasses in the other. You had just finished a sparring session with Steve, showering and then putting on some lounging clothes; a baggy vest and some pyjama shorts with some fuzzy socks.

Times had changed with the Avengers; grudges were slowly dissipating, mutual dislike turned to civility and Thor and Loki had become loving brothers once more.

Loki was usually isolated in his own mind, he was a social vampire when it came to gatherings; you wouldn’t get a word out of him unless you invited him into the conversation. He became a good man- it took him a while to earn the trust of the people around him and it took him a while to learn how to control his powers to use them for reasonable purposes.

Everyone was still skeptical about him, though, especially Clint. The whole mind control back in New York made the man uneasy and on guard constantly. Natasha had to keep distracting him whenever Loki joined everyone in the living area, for the man shot imaginary arrows in his general direction.

You had reached said living area and you heard howling laughter. You peaked around to see everyone laughing, apart from Loki.

“What’s going on guys?” You questioned, placing your book on the stand next to where the god was sitting.

“We’ve given Loki a new nickname.” Tony snorted. You rolled your eyes, knowing it wasn’t going to end well.

“And what would this nickname be, exactly?” You arched your brow at them whilst crossing your arms across. The guys, especially Tony and Sam, kept doing shit like this and it annoyed you to no end. You wanted Loki to feel welcome here, and they were making that impossible for him.

Horny.” You heard Loki mutter softly. You turned and looked at him then, emerald eyes meeting your wide ones. “Because of my helmet…What does it even bloody mean?” You kept hearing snorts of laughter in front of you and sneered at the two ‘grown ups’, but you had to stop yourself from giggling.

“Y'know you’re real funny, Tony, Sam, whoever made the nickname needs to grow up.” You picked up your book and sat next to man on the leather couch. “Just ignore them, Loki, they’re children in adult skin.” You whispered softly.

“I still want to know what it means, though.” He mumbled to himself, he shifted slightly and his arm brushed against yours, the coolness of his skin behind the thin material of his t-shirt making goosebumps rise upon your skin. “What are you reading, Y/N?”

“Oh, I’m reading The Rise and Fall of the Krays. Yeah, it’s a true story about two really famous gangsters in East London back in the… 1950’s? I think? Let me double check,” You placed a finger between the pages so you didn’t lose yours, and flipped the book to look at the blurb on the back. “Ah, the 50’s AND the 60’s. I was close.” Loki gave you a small smile and returned to looking out of the window.

You sat in a comfortable silence for a while, the sound of soft breathing and distant conversations filling your ears, that is, until Tony piped up.

“We’re all going out in 10 minutes, wanna join, Y/N? Or are you staying here with Horny?” The man chuckled.

You usually declined going out- the hustle and bustle of busy bodies and widely socializing making you rather uncomfortable. You scoffed at Tony’s childish words.

“I’m keeping Loki company, so no thank you, manchild.” You smiled sarcastically at Tony and then looked at Loki. You jumped ever so slightly when you noticed he was watching intently.

“You don’t have to, dear. Go out and have some… Midgardian…fun…” He cringed at word 'fun’. Loki wasn’t used to Earth, still, his idea of fun was pulling pranks and scaring the shit out of people.

“No, no, I’d like to stay here with you - don’t give me that look, Loki -” You were cut off when you heard multiple farewells, returning them briefly. “I don’t like crowds…or large parties that much.”

“Ah, I see. I hope I don’t bore you too much, petal.” You blushed at the nickname he gave you. You and Loki had grown closer during his time at the tower; small talk turned into full blown conversations, boring nights turned into ones where you could bask in each others company for hours, no physical contact became small, innocent touches, but he was still very timid, though.

You shot up from your seat, heading towards the kitchen area, you felt the pang of hunger reside in your stomach, so you had to eat at least something to make it go away.

“Loki, would you like something to eat? I might make some waffles.” You received a hum and a soft 'please’ from him. You quietly turned to see him take a peek at your book and you smiled slightly.

You soon finished cooking, 4 waffles in total. You plucked needed confections out of the cupboards and fridge; chocolate syrup, whipped cream, strawberries.

Before you ushered Loki over, you connected your phone to the sound system and played some music. The place was silent, so you wanted to change that. You skipped through your music list, fist bumping the air as soon as you found ‘No Scrubs’ by TLC. It was one of your favourite as a young teen and you swayed to the beat whilst happily mumbling the lyrics.

“Loki, come get your waffles!” You hollered, the tall god swiftly made his way over the the kitchen, sitting at one of the stools by the island.

“I must admit, petal, I’ve never had these before.” You gasped at his confession, awestruck that he had never tasted the sweet food before.

“Oh, gosh, Loki. Here- try some of mine, I’ve got strawberries, chocolate and whipped cream. I promise, it’s really nice!” You urged, you took some on your fork and held it up to him. “Taste it.”

He timidly leaned forward and took the food from your fork, his teeth baring. As he chewed you saw his eyes roll back with a moan. You bit your lip as you saw his head roll back, exposing the fair skin of his slender neck.

“Lord, if I ever knew how good these tasted, I’d have them everyday. May I?” He gestured towards the confectionery on the table, you replied with a ‘of course’ before you dug into your own, you done good.

A soft tune came on, and you recognised it to be one of Hans Zimmer’s masterpieces. You always played his music whenever you and Loki basked in the late night silences, it relaxed him and helped him focus whilst he read, he told you.

“Could you please tell me the definition of ‘horny’ now, Y/N?” You choked on what you were halfway swallowing.

“U-um, yes, okay, er…” You stuttered, you really wanted to save Loki the embarrassment, but it felt like you were the one in said state.

“It’s bad, isn’t it?” Loki muttered, shoveling more waffle into his mouth.

“No- it’s just crude.” You grimaced. “It means a-aroused…” The clatter of Loki’s fork on his plate startled you out of your embarrassed dazed.

“Well, Stark is in for a thorough beating, dare I say. Not only is he humiliating me, but he’s insulting my helmet-” He stopped when he noticed you staring at him in shock, scared he would lash out and break any plates.

You noticed his amused gaze upon your face, he started to chuckle lightly.

“W-What? Loki, what’s so funny?” You laughed as you cocked an arched brow at him.

Seeing him so happy made your chest swell and a smile tug at your lips. Loki found it difficult to let loose, for he was almost on edge all the time, worrying that if he took his mind off of reality for just a second, something bad would happen.

Your eyes widened as you watched Loki swiped cream across your nose, you let out a shriek as you watched his hand dip into the little scoop of cream and swipe across your cheek, creating a giant line of the white substance.

“You…You’ve got a little something right here, Y/N,” Loki spoke, but this time, his voice was deep with seriousness. His eyebrows furrowed as his gaze focused on your mouth. You watched as his finger gently touched your lip, before smearing more of the cream over your mouth.

You gasped as you felt the cream on your face, but this time he wasn’t getting off the hook. With a sudden burst of confidence, you lunged forward and with all your might, tackled him to the ground. You both landed onto the kitchen tiles with a loud thud, knocking over the stools that were beside you in the process.

“Oof!” Loki wheezed, “Ooh, my head…” He winced, holding his large hand to his head.

“Oh! Loki I-I’m so sorry!” you cried before getting to your knees and placing your hands on his shoulders. You peered down, trying to catch a glimpse of the spot he was holding, but instead was met with his trademark smirk. One that everyone knew meant trouble would soon follow.

‘Uh oh’ you thought. You immediately sat up straight, trying to make sense of why he would be looking at you that way. Before you could think, you felt two strong arms wrap around your body and pull you back onto the floor. He pinned you down with a strong arm before wiping more of the cream from your jaw to your neck. You gasped at the coldness of his slender fingers mingled with the cream and you wriggled underneath him, though he was tall and lithe he was heavy against your smaller form.

Loki managed to wipe more cream on you, not allowing you to escape from his strong grasp. His arm slipped and he accidentally wiped some of the sweetness in the valley of your breasts, both of your breaths hitching.

Loki’s playful facade fell as soon as he caught a glimpse of the small opening of your vest, which gave a perfect -and might he add, amazing view of your breasts. His eyes focused on your body, taking in every single detail it had to offer. From your chest, to your hair, all the way down to your hips. Dare he admit it, but he was enchanted by you.

“Forgive me,” he spoke, his voice soft as his eyes met yours once again. “But you truly are…one mesmerizing creature, Y/N.”

You swore on every single star in the sky, you felt your heart swell with the sensation of longing. You slowly reached a small hand to move a stray piece of raven hair away from his face, your fingers lingering on his jaw a few moments longer than they should have.

Everything was a blur as you felt Loki’s cool lips against yours, the mingled taste of strawberries and cream lingering on the supple skin. You laced your fingers into his long hair and tugged him closer to you, pressing your lips harder upon his.

You were jerked back to reality when you felt him pull away.

“I- I’m sorry, Y/N, for being so bold.”

“Shut up and kiss me, Loki, I haven’t gotten sticky whipped cream and chocolate syrup over me for nothing.” You giggled, pulling him down once more. You moaned as you felt his cool tongue brush against your own, your hips unconsciously bucking to meet his in pure need. You squeaked when you felt cold fingers brush against your jaw, tilting your head to the side.

Loki’s lips left yours, placing feather light kisses against your skin in a pathway to your neck. As lips and tongue left a wet path in their wake as they lapped up the whipped cream left there, you whispered his name, the sound of your voice and the bucking of your hips against his made him groan.

“Do you have any idea how much I crave this? Crave you? The taste of you? The feel of you? (*) Oh, darling, I’ve had plenty of feelings for you since the beginning. So beautiful, so kind, compassionate. I hope my feelings are not unrequited.” Loki confessed, his mouth brushing the valley of your breasts ever so slightly, collecting the white sweetness with his tongue.

“L-Loki, I’ve had something inside me, yearning for you, for a while. I need you, please.”

With that, Loki stood up from the kitchen tiles, pulling you with him. Gently pushing you against the counter, his hands found your hips and hair, he couldn’t decide whether to bring you closer or push harder against your soft body.

You let out a small whimper as his hands slowly snaked their way down to your hips, his nails dragging along your flesh teasingly, making you suffer in the best way possible. Loki dipped his face until it was resting onto your shoulder and began pressing little kisses along your skin.

A small sigh escaped your lips as his kisses slowly began traveling to the flesh beneath your ear, his lips sucking just enough to get a reaction from you. His hands worked their way from your hips until they were resting on the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down slightly..

“So beautiful,” he whispered, his voice was deeper now, yet filled with a hint of sincerity.

You felt your pyjama shorts sliding down your thighs, before they pooled around your ankles with a small plop, leaving you only in your underwear and fuzzy socks. You hastily kicked thee shorts from around your feet and your socks, sending them flying to the side of the kitchen, before leaning back into Loki’s touch as a kitten does it’s owner.

“I can’t tell you how long I’ve wanted to do this, my love.” He confessed as he began undressing himself, slipping off the dark sweater from his body and revealing his incredibly toned torso. One that you found yourself growing extremely wet at the sight of. Loki was beautiful, despite his differences from his brother. To you, he was perfection.

“Please,” you whispered, feeling his erection pressing into your bum through his jeans. You felt his hands slowly making their way to your vest and one by one, began to unbutton each of the little buttons.

“Have patience, my love.” he smirked as he fumbled with the final button on your vest, pulling it back and letting the material slide off of your shoulders and onto the floor beneath you both, revealing the soft bra underneath, Loki dragged his slender fingers across the fine lacework, admiring the beauty of such an undergarment.

You could hear his breath hitch as his hands finally rested on your breasts, his slender fingers massaged each of them softly. He dragged his thumb across your nipples, before giving each of them an experimental flick over the thin material of your bra. You arched into his touch, your mouth forming an O.

“Oh my,” you breathed as a wave of pleasure coursed through your body.

He let out a breathy chuckle as he pulled away, earning a small whine from you. Loki quickly rid himself of his remaining clothes, tossing them to the floor without a single care in the world, leaving him in only his tight boxer briefs, his hardness apparent under the thin material.

“So eager, yet you listen to me so well, come, my love. Follow me to my room.”

Bending over slightly, you hastily picked up both of your scattered clothes, trying not to make your rendezvous obvious to those who came back this way. As you straightened, you gasped as Loki turned you around and bent down, throwing you over his broad shoulder, taking you back to his room.

“You cheeky bastard!” You squealed as you felt a light spank to your backside.

“Tsk, tsk. Such profanity from a pretty little mouth like yours, Y/N.” You both laughed at this, you let your arms dangle over his back and you dragged your blunt nails across his flesh only slightly, and you felt him gasp at the sensation. You got a lovely view of his behind and you smiled to yourself.

You felt Loki’s hands grip your thighs, gently digging his nails into your soft flesh. You arrived at the door then- because your felt your feet brush against the solid door. Loki turned the handle and walked in swiftly, setting you down on your feet. He twisted his body and locked the door, you watched as the muscles in his back rippled with his movements and were completely lost in him.

You were brought out of your trance when you felt Loki’s plump lips brush against yours and feather light fingertips brush against your waist. You let your mouth go slack against his, allowing his tongue to brush against yours again, mirroring the actions in the kitchen. You trailed your hands up his forearms, to his broad shoulders and all the way up to his hair, tugging slightly.

Loki let out a soft groan against your mouth, sending vibrations right down to your throbbing heat. He hunched and dragged his hands to the back of your thighs, not once breaking your ongoing kiss, and hoisted you up against him, pushing you gently against his bedroom wall. The coolness making you shriek, making Loki pull back to look into your dilated pupils.

“I’m a frostgiant, love, I don’t need my room to be warm, you should know that already…” He mumbled, placing butterfly kisses into your neck. His erection was pulsing against your heat and you ground yourself down onto him, both sighing at the tasteful friction of his hard cock against the damp heat of your panties.

He pulled you off the wall then, setting you down onto the soft mattress of his bed. He nestled himself between your soft thighs and kissed you fervently. You became nervous; you had done this before, but this was a whole different atmosphere, Loki was different to the rest of the men you had slept with. He was powerful, dominant, he was from another fucking realm for god’s sake.

Loki could feel you tense against him, “I sense your unease, but I’ll be gentle, my love, I promise, there’s no other way I would want this, with you right now…” His words were silk as he spoke and he connected your lips in a passionate kiss that made your arch your back, keening for more of him against you, you shifted your calf around his waist, pulling his hips closer to yours, eliciting a sharp groan from his chest as he felt your soaked panties grind against his clothed cock.

You rocked against each other like ocean waves, his hips shifting against yours, finding that much needed friction, “My sweet girl, so good for me, buck your hips, let me feel you against me.” The soft spoken words against your lips sent shivers down your spine, making you arch your back into him, your clothed core grinding against his once more.

Your lips broke apart, green eyes stared into Y/E/C and you felt his fingers tug at the waistband of your underwear asking for permission, and you granted him just that by swiftly nodding your head, bringing his face down to yours, kissing him deeply.

As Loki dragged your panties down your legs, your squirmed in excitement, the feeling of his cold fingers against your scorching skin making you wetter and wetter by the second. Kicking your panties off your ankles, you felt Loki set himself between your thighs once more.

“Do you want my fingers inside you, petal?”

“Mmm, Loki- please, I need you.” You soon felt to slender fingers part your wet folds, rubbing gently from your entrance to your clit, and you moaned loudly at his touch. He spread your slickness throughout your heat and slipped a single finger inside your sex, languidly probing at your g-spot.

“Such a good girl, Y/N,” Loki muttered, watching you as your face contorted in pleasure, your teeth digging into your bottom lip.  “So wet, darling, so wet, all for me?” You hummed and threw your head back against the soft pillow as he inserted another finger, curling and dragging them in, out, in, out.

“L-Loki, keep going and I’m going to-to cum.” You choked. At these words Loki quickened the pace of his fingers whilst his other hand came to to toy with your sensitive clit, bringing you closer to climax, but as soon as you neared the brink he removed both hands from you, making you whine.

“You’ll cum around my tongue first, petal.” His voice was low, gravelly, and it made you take a deep breath, your chest heaved in anticipation as he brought his fingers to his mouth, sucking your juices off of them whilst keeping his emerald eyes locked onto yours, the action was so erotic you couldn’t bare it.

He proceeded to kiss you then, the taste of yourself on his tongue as his hands reached behind you to rid you of your bra, flinging it across the room in haste. The cool air of his room made your nipples harden, making Loki take the chance to tweak and roll them between his fingers, making you take a sharp breath as you arched your back, yearning for more of his touch.

He shifted down the bed and used his large hands to part your thighs, his grip tight but gentle. He blew a soft puff of cold air on your heat and you jumped.

“You are a goddess, you deserve to be worshipped properly, pleasured like there is no more time in the world, let me give you this, Y/N.” You felt Loki’s tongue lick a thick stripe up your glistening folds. His tongue gently separated your lips, nudging the small sensitive nub that was your clit. You weaved your fingers through his thick, dark locks, tugging sharply.

You gasped, feeling the amazing sensation between your legs. You had your fair share of men please you throughout your life. You’ve had them try their hardest to touch you just right, eager to find what makes you tick. But none of them, no matter how hard they tried, could achieve what Loki was currently achieving at the moment. He made you crumble beneath his touch within seconds, and worshipped your body as if it were the last thing he would ever do on Midgard.

Your fingers weaved their way into his black locks again, gently tugging them as his lips connected with your clit gave a harsh suck. Your body, as if it had a mind of its own, arched off of the bed as he pleasured you, one of hands stayed gripping your hip as the other slithered its way up your abdomen, massaging each breast.

Loki pulled away suddenly and peered up at you, his mouth and chin glistening with your juices as he gave you a mischievous smirk. “Does that feel good, my love?”

“Hmm, yes, Loki-”

“That’s it, Y/N, say my name,” He intentionally groaned, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure straight through your clit and you tumbled down from the immense orgasm. You were a panting mess, writhing and yanking at his hair as you came down from your high.

“I-If that’s what your tongue can do I can’t imagine what your cock can-” Loki silenced you with his lips, the familiar taste of yourself lingering on his tongue. “No need for filthy words, Y/N” Loki muttered against the skin underneath your ear, he could feel hot precum leak from his painfully hard cock, it almost drove him insane.

You relaxed and draped your arms around his neck, basking in the temporary silence, the only sound being both your heavy breathing. You snaked your hands down towards his hips and you palmed him through the thin fabric of his briefs. A choked groan tumbled from his lips at the gentle feeling. You continued to rub your palm across the length of his erect cock through the thin fabric, making Loki buck his hips into your touch.

“You can take them off, love.” You hooked your thumbs into the thick waist band and slowly tugged them down, your small hand curved over his ass, squeezing slightly and giggling at his shocked reaction. Loki didn’t flinch when the cool air of his room brushed against his swollen length, and it didn’t surprise you; he was a frostgiant.

He kneeled and shifted his boxers down his legs because your arms couldn’t reach. His cock stood proud and tall against his pale abdomen, the pinkness of his head contrasting beautifully against the pale.

Loki hissed in pleasure as your warm hand wrapped around him, your fingers smearing the precum around his tip. You began jerking him slowly, squeezing him here and there.

You let him take over, and you spread your legs until you were completely exposed to Loki again. Your breaths came out in short little puffs as he hovered over you, his green eyes darkened with a lustful gaze. You felt your entire body humming with excitement as he reached between your bodies and grasped ahold of his cock and gently ran it along your glistening slit.

His eyes found yours once again, but this time, instead of the predatory, lustful gaze, it was filled with love and passion.

“My love, as much as I want you to take you now, have you any precaution?” Loki’s gaze was serious, and he was relieved when you murmured the words ‘I’m on contraception’.

With a languid thrust of his hips, Loki was sheathed completely inside of you. You took a moment and felt the fullness of him inside you.

Loki held one hand on your hip as the other caressed your jaw as he gazed at you.

“You are divine, my sweet girl, so beautiful. (*) I will take you. Slowly, softly. And then I will claim you. Swiftly, thoroughly. So much that you will cry out for more. Your gentle whispers of my name shall become ragged screams of exhilaration.” He claimed your lips with his he began to slowly thrust in and out of you, the lude sound of slickness along with the sound of heavy breathing engulfing your senses.

Your arms hooked under his and your nails dragged down his back, bucking your hips to meet his thrusts.

“Patience, remember what I said, Y/N.”

You became the opposite, you wanted him thrusting harder, deeper, faster, you needed him pounding into you. Your wishes came true as you felt Loki’s large cold hand inch your thigh above his slim hips. Loki began to quicken his pace, though he kept his grace and steadiness whilst sucking your lip into his mouth, his teeth nibbling at the soft flesh, bringing a groan to rise from your throat.

“Ah-aaahhh, Loki I-” You hissed through your teeth as you felt bottom out, the tip of his cock hitting your cervix, as he pulls out to push back in again, his head brushes against your g-spot. Loki anchors himself by threading his fingers into your hair and pulling- not too rough, and not gently either. His other hand ventures down towards your heat, his fingers begin to draw pressured circles around your bundle of nerves and you begin to writhe against him in pleasure.

“That’s it, my good girl, cum for me, yes, cum for me, Y/N.” You feel your walls clench around him as your orgasm approaches at his words, with a swift pinch to your clit with his cool fingers, you come undone around Loki’s cock, your muscles contracting against him, adding pressure to the thick vein on the underside, egging his own orgasm on.

“Ah, fuck, Y/N. You’re so good for me, petal, my goddess, let me see those beautiful eyes.” Loki’s face contorted with his orgasm, as yours did prior. You felt the hot, thick streams of cum fill you as he almost collapsed on top of you and it prolonged your own orgasm, making you scream his name.

As Loki pulled out of you, he peppered tender kisses over your shoulders and neck. He shifted to lean on his elbow to look at you in your naked glory, the sweat was apparent on both of your flesh, gleaming in the soft light emitted from the lamp next to your head. Loki stroked a single finger over the skin of your cheek.

“I don’t think I’ve loved anyone as much as I love you, Y/N. It’s such a foreign feeling.”

“It’s okay, I love you too, Loki,” You pulled on a strand of his hair playfully, a smile adorning your lips, “though, I think we should shower, my hair’s gone a bit sticky from the chocolate syrup…horny.

~

Permanent Tags (guys i lost my list wtf im improvising):

@buckyshattergirl @hopelessgarbage @bucky-nugget @jezzula @scarlettsoldier @grooveandshit @papi-chulo-bucky @barnescrazy

Truth May Vary

Yes, hi, excuse me, passing through, dropping crap all over the fandom. 

Hi. So, I did the prompt! @pink-paladin-lance hope you like it, tho I didn’t made it as angsty bc I craved fluffiness and well, …yeah. Hope you like it anyways!

Ps. Long Post. So yeah! No warnings? Just mean aliens, psh. 

Nothing much to say? Enjoy! 

Disclaimer: Voltron doesn’t belong to me and the idea come from @pink-paladin-lance (:

Edit: ….Did i fixed it the damn problem or? 


“Alright! Another win for Voltron!” Hunk shouts animatedly as he wraps an arm around Keith’s shoulder, shaking him as he cheers, “Did you guys see how Keith dodged that laser beam when one of the Galras tried to sneak up on him? Keith, buddy, that was amazing! You totally flipped them!”

Keith laughs as he takes off his helmet and brushes Hunk’s praise off. “What? No, come on! Are you kidding? Were you even present when your Lion completely crushed that rock and saved the entire village? Because I was and it was out of this planet, man.”

“Okay, guys, but I think I speak for everyone that the best part was when we formed Voltron and we completely destroyed that Robeast because Shiro’s plan was on point!” Pidge cuts in, grinning behind her shoulder to meet their leader, “If it hadn’t been for your quick thinking, the battle would have taken a lot longer.”

Shiro chuckles from his place besides Allura and waves the compliments off with a hand. “No way. The plan was a success because your plants held the Robeast long enough for us to make a move, Pidge. You have been improving a lot since the day we found of about your Lion’s power.”

Lance watches from the sidelines as he stands besides Coran, a few feet away from the team. He smiles fondly as he hears them cheer and praise each other, their adrenaline and enthusiasm that always come from a winning battle still running through their blood.

“Wait, wait, but did you guys notice when Lance –” Keith’s sentence is suddenly cut off when the Prince of the Royal Family from the Kingdom they just saved clears his throat abruptly, catching everyone’s attention and making Keith’s proud grin to dim, replacing it with a frown.

“On behalf of my people and my Mother, I would like to express our gratitude towards the brave Paladins of Voltron who saved us today and forevermore, for it is their duty to defend and serve this Universe from the claws of evil.” The Prince says, voice high and powerful.

He stares into each of the Paladin’s eyes before they fall on Allura. “Princess Allura, please, as a thank you, allow us to escort you and the entire team to our Castle in order to present you an exquisite and well deserved banquet in your honor.”

Allura smiles and opens her mouth to respond but Lance’s voice beats her to it.

“Sure, dude!” He shouts happily, walking a few steps until he’s standing beside Allura and Shiro. “A banquet is always appreciated! I mean, Voltron really kicked some serious ass today if you know what I mean.” Lance can hear the way his team groan and chuckle at his words, too used to Lance’s cocky facade and he can feel Allura’s playful smack of her hand on his ribs.

Lance’s grin fades when the Price stares down at him unamused and something inside him drops unpleasantly.

“Blue…Paladin, of course.” The Prince says, a bore and uninterested tone on the back of his tone as he forces a rigid polite smile, “While I agree with you on the fact that Voltron surely won this battle by their own hands, I have to ask…”

He pauses, letting his words linger in the air as he takes a step towards Lance and clicks his tongue.

“Why are you on the team? I’m sure that your … talents, if you even have some, can be of much assistance back in the Castle.”

Lance’s smile falls and he hears the way someone behind him takes a sharp intake of breath but Lance doesn’t bother to turn around to found out who exactly.

“Well, I am the Blue Paladin. I have to be where the team is, of course.” Lance says, mouth twitching in what he hopes to be a smile but ends up being a grimace.

The Prince clicks his tongue once again and shakes his head as if in disappointment. “Ah, my apologies, Blue Paladin. I had just assumed that you were just filling the spot for the time being until the true Blue Paladin claimed the title.”

Lance doesn’t need to turn around to know what’s happening behind his back. He can feel the tense air that has settled on the team. He can hear the hard shallow pants from Hunk’s end as the Yellow Paladin tries to suppress the urge to lunge at the Prince. He can hear the soft faint sound of Shiro’s arm activating itself along with Keith’s bayard. He can even feel Pidge’s deathly glare that goes through him to get to their target that is the Prince.

He feels the grip of Allura’s hand on his suit tighten and the way Coran’s hand find its way until it’s resting on his shoulder.

But the Prince doesn’t. He doesn’t see, feel or sense any of what Lance does because they are not his team, they are Lance’s.

The Prince continues.

“No offense, Blue Paladin, but I had actually thought that Princess Allura here was the rightful Paladin for the Blue Lion. Having her leadership and power aside, she seems to be such a good fit for the title.”

Lance doesn’t disagree.

“Of course, I might be wrong. After all, there must be a reason why you are fighting besides Voltron itself. I speak out only because I believe your talents have been blurred by being surrounded by such powerful people and I’m merely concerned about the efficiency in future battles, thinking that your efforts may not be good enough –”

Lance can’t even come up with a response because suddenly there’s a body rushing past him and then Keith is standing there, pressing his Marmora Blade against the Prince’s neck.

“Would you like to say that again? Just to make sure I have the right motive to make you regret those words?” Keith hisses, face inches away from the Prince’s.

“Keith.” Coran calls, sharp and with a hidden warning, “Step back from the Prince, right now, Young Paladin.”

“But Coran –!”

Right now.

Keith growls but ends up taking a step back, his scowl deep in his face as he glares at the Prince from a distance.

“Prince Yult,” Allura says, voice tight and on edge as she releases Lance’s suit and takes a step forward, “While we appreciate your hospitality, you have no right to –”

“Princess Allura, if I may?” Lance cuts off, quiet but firm as he raises his chin high, staring at her evenly.

Allura stares right back, eyebrows furrowed in confusion before she nods.

“Prince Yult.” Lance addresses respectfully and waits until the royal nods at him before he continues, “I can understand your confusion about my position as a Paladin and your concern around the topic. My team’s talent and power is unmeasured and it’s not something anyone can live up to.”

“Lance…” Keith mumbles behind him but Lance continues.

“Which is why I must ask of you, not to doubt my team’s efficiency based on their one weakness that is me.”

“Lance, that’s enough.” Shiro snaps, low and dangerous but Lance doesn’t stop.

“Rest reassured, your highness.” Lance smiles, tight and forced, “That Voltron shall continue winning more battles and I will not be a liability to the team.”

“Buddy, come on, stop –”

“Now, if you excuse me, your highness.” Lance says, cutting Hunk’s plead short, “I shall take my leave. I’m sure the rest of the team would love to meet the Queen, but I sadly need to go back to the Castle and stand guard.”

Lance doesn’t wait for an answer. He turns around, ignoring the way Keith reaches out to him and how the rest of the team calls his name.

Keep reading

RFA + When They Realize They’re In Love

ohhh, look a headcanon/scenario post! :D this was a whole lot longer than i originally planned, but oh well!! i played around with each of their stories, so i hope you don’t mind <3 <b>you can find JAEHEE, JUMIN and 707′s under the cut! if you have any requests, feel free to shoot them my way. anyway, i hope you enjoy!


RFA + THE MOMENT THEY REALIZE THEY’RE IN LOVE

YOOSUNG

Yoosung thinks he’s sick.

His heart starts palpitating, his palms grow sweaty and he’s so out-of-focus that he’s losing his streak on the LOLOL leadership boards. He downs a cup of coffee, glaring at his bedroom clock, which stared back with a 22:12pm in bright blue lights. It’s way too early to be feeling tired, he thinks.

He sighs, exiting the server and letting the game’s background music blast through his computer’s speakers. He places a hand to his neck, feeling for a warm temperature, only to end up confused as he realizes he’s not even remotely feverish. Worriedly, he calls her up, sure that she would know what’s up with him.

“Hey [Name],” he says, going back to his desk to take another swig of coffee. He joins another server, hoping LOLOL would help calm his nerves. Why was he always so nervous when he was talking with her? He prattles on about his supposed “symptoms” as he patiently waits to be connected to the server.

“Sounds like you’re in love,” she suddenly blurts out. He almost sprays his coffee all over his computer at those words. He can tell she’s joking. She was joking, right? Right? He tries to come up with a reply, but all that comes out of him is a strangled sound. He hears her laughing from the other end. “Ohhh, bulls-eye! Who’s the lucky person? Is it me you’ve fallen for?”

Yoosung’s eyes widen at this, and his heart feels like it’s about to burst out of his chest and start tap-dancing on his desk. He’s stunned to a silence; his mind is racing, wondering whether or not to confirm her statement. Well, that would certainly explain why he always felt so worked up around her. Before he could even answer her question, he hears her awkward laughter on the other end of the phone.

“Hey, I was kidding! Playing some LOLOL might calm your nerves, but I suggest not staying up too late. It might actually be a fever, after all.” Yoosung manages to quickly blurt out an apology as well as a thank you, before wishing her a good night and ending the call without waiting for her reply. He leans back on his chair, staring at the cream-colored ceiling above him.

It’s when he places both of his hands on his chest and feels the rhythmic thumping of his heart. It’s when he tries to steady his breathing, and when he finally does, he remembers what she said and wheezes. It’s when he realizes that he knows the answer to her earlier question, but he was too shy, too scared to actually answer her. It’s when he makes a promise to tell her, face-to-face and unabashedly, one day. Yoosung’s eyes linger to his desk clock.

It’s at 22:17pm on a LOLOL-filled Tuesday night that he realizes that he’s completely, head-over-heels in love with her.

ZEN

Zen can’t sleep.

He’s lying in bed, positively tired after a day’s work. He knew he did well earlier, yes, but his own self-reassuring thoughts did very little for his nerves. Ever since the whole hacking situation, he’s been on edge during his performances; he can’t help but be upset at himself for not giving his all for his audiences.

Despite being an “egotistical prick”, as Jumin calls it, he was often hit by waves of doubt during these late sleepless nights. His self-reassuring thoughts began to shift into ones of doubt, pushing him to twist and turn in his suddenly uncomfortable bed.

Was he a genuinely good actor? Did people watch his musicals for his talents or for his looks? Would he ever be more than just a handsome face up on the stage? He was jolted back to reality by the sudden ringing of his cellphone. He begrudgingly reached out to view the caller ID: [Name].

Without a second thought, he immediately answers the call. Her cheerful voice was tinged with a hint of her own weariness. He feels his heart begin to swell, savoring the way her voice says his name. “Can’t sleep either?” he says, genuinely happy to find her calling him out of all the other RFA members.

“Yeah,” he hears her say. “I was hoping you were awake. I’m glad I was actually right.” His chest tightens at this, and he can’t help but smile at the thought of her thinking about him at such an hour. He finds a sort of solace in her, thankful for her constant presence amidst all the happenings in his life.

The two converse, and he finds the weight on his shoulders gradually become lighter. His heart is both calm and erratic, and he finds himself laughing together with her, despite being miles apart. When he hears her congratulate him for the show he put on, for being such an amazing actor on-stage, for doing so well, even if he may not believe so, he almost starts crying.

“You’re doing so well, Zen. I’m sure all your fans can agree that you’re doing so much more. I mean that, truly. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m here. So is Jaehee and the rest of the RFA,” she says from the other end of the line, and he allows himself to think that she means it. No, he knows she means it; it’s in the way that she speaks to him that he knows she’s saying nothing but the truth.

It’s when she says her good night that he catches himself almost saying it. He purses his lips, blundering out a good night of his own before slamming the END CALL button. It’s when his eyes shoot wide open, and he feels a ditzy smile gracing his lips. It’s when his self-doubting thoughts are replaced by thoughts of her. He brings his pale hands to his hair, and he can’t help but marvel at how much she affects him.

It’s when he catches himself thinking about her in wonder does he realize that he’s crazy about her.

((more under the cut))

Keep reading

⇁ all that is gold (m)

Originally posted by chimtae

pairing⇁Taehyung x Reader

genre⇁smut, angst || roommate!au + sugar baby!au

warnings⇁sub!taehyung, skype sex, masturbation, orgasm denial, possessiveness, slight breath play, oral sex, dirty talk, thigh riding, tae ends up sort of a switch? idk

word count⇁11.2k

As a college student struggling to make ends meet, Taehyung resorts to a less than ethical method to satisfy his appetite for expensive treats. The last thing he wants is for you to find out how he acquires the Gucci in his closet… however this proves to be difficult when you are his roommate.

or : Taehyung is a sugar baby and somehow thinks he can keep this a secret

a/n; ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Keep reading

The Holy Grail of Sam Wilson Fanfic Recs

A list of recommended Sam-positive fanfics and authors by @lunaaltare and @unclesteeb. For more information on how this list was created, click here. 

Just a special reminder to check out @samwilsonbirthdaybang! Let’s keep creating awesome works!

Thank you to everyone who contributed to this list in any way!! HAPPY READING!

Holy Grail of Sam FanFic Recs And Authors:

Dreadnought by lunaaltare [Sam/Steve/Bucky, 60k, Explicit]

It’s 2015. So when a Nazi organization bags and kidnaps a bisexual black man to be their next asset, he guesses they’re trying their hand at this whole progressive thing, too. 

Make Me Your Home by Unclesteeb [Sam/Steve, 3k, Teen]

Sometimes, things need more than dusting and cleaning. Sometimes, things just require a lot of hard work.

When There’s Rain Showers by AmarieMelody [Sam/Bucky, 12k, Explicit]

In which Sam and Bucky are married and have a certain code language.

Humor, fluff, more humor, and gratuitous smut at the end.

Keep reading

the spy au that @philosophium ordered !!


Andrew slips through a slit in the crowd, brushing through the sleek trains of expensive gowns, rich wool suits jackets catching on his own. He’s on his second flute of champagne, and the tartness keeps him focused. His attention is on the flavour and the rim of the glass and the warp of faces through it. His earpiece crackles and whispers.

He can see his mark on the opposite side of the room, surrounded by servers and liars and pretty things. One of them is all three, Andrew can tell: a waiter’s vest, a seam of over-applied foundation, and bright blue eyes.

He’s distracting, flighty, a rubber band pulled all the way back. He looks like the memory of a case file, and a name occurs to Andrew one second before Kevin hisses it into his ear.

“It’s fuckin’ Charlie Pilot. Don’t engage, Minyard, we’re not here for him.”

Andrew doesn’t make any effort to reply, just takes another pull of champagne. He’s not really watching the troupes of entertainers or the clockwork security or the velvet and silk blooming under bowing chandeliers. He’s not even watching the man he’s either going to rob or kill, who’s laughing and weedy, red in the face from the alcohol. He’s stuck on Pilot –  next to his target, holding a heavily stocked tray of appetizers, his expression pleasant and empty.

He’ll be an irritant to what should be a straightforward plan, if he keeps hovering. Andrew takes a loaded step forward and the voice in his ear complains.

“Don’t even think about moving in until Pilot leaves. He’s probably doing reconnaissance for Matt. I bet he doesn’t even know about the file.”

Andrew watches Pilot’s face tick, the way he blinks like he’s on a timer, the way he’s worrying the inside of his cheek with his teeth.

“I bet he does,” Andrew murmurs, and he drains the last of the champagne. He plucks his tie pin away from the fabric and drops it in the empty glass, leaving it on a passing tray.

“What— what the fuck Minyard, we’ve lost visuals. Do you hear me? Andrew? Andrew?”

Andrew weaves through the rest of the golden crowd, ignoring the buzz of Kevin’s reprimands in his ear. He finds a new spot on the outskirts of the crowd where Pilot has installed himself.

“Do you know how fucking expensive those cameras are? You’re such a piece of shit operative,” Kevin says. “When you inevitably come back without the intelligence and without our equipment, it’s costing us to keep you around, do you realize that?”

Andrew’s more focused on the way Pilot’s shoulders are turning to face him, the slim line of his tailored pants, that eyelash-thick smudge of un-blended make up.

“Shrimp?” Pilot offers, swaying the tray in his direction.

“No,” Andrew says, but he stays uncomfortably near, feeling along the edges of his boundaries without finding any seams. Pilot’s composure is still and reserved as a frost-ravaged garden.

“Have a good evening then,” Pilot says graciously, turning back towards the host that Andrew should be sizing up but hasn’t even looked at. He glances at him for a sliver of a moment, finds himself uninterested, and looks back at Pilot.

Andrew catches him suddenly by the arm, but relaxes his grip just as quickly, caught off guard by his own impulsivity. His own disguise is just an invitation and sun bleached hair; he isn’t playing a character like Pilot is. He’s neutral for a living, but Pilot is a new weight on his scale, unbalancing him so that he can’t quite settle at zero.

When their eyes meet, the polite, curious waiter snips out of existence. Charlie Pilot stares at Andrew, with eyes like the bluest part of a fire.

“There’s a conflict of interest,” he tells Andrew calmly. “And your interest will lose.”

“I’m not interested in anything,” Andrew says broadly.

“Hm,” Pilot says, unconvinced. “You’re lying.”

“I don’t lie,” Andrew says. He’s always saying it; it’s a novelty that employers enjoy and enemies challenge, amused.

Pilot raises his jaw, mouth twitching. “No, you wouldn’t, would you.” His eyes flicker to the side of Andrew’s face, where Kevin is breathing furiously through his earpiece, then down to the grip he still has on his forearm. He lowers his tray down until the rough edge is pressed to the root of Andrew’s hand threateningly. “You’ll want to let me go, Andrew, or you’re going to end up needing a longer armband.”

Andrew feels genuine surprise squeeze his fingers around Pilot’s wrist. He hadn’t noticed the black fabric extending a whiff beyond his crisp white sleeve. He lets go, and Pilot tucks his shoulders back, satisfied. His hair is too dark to match his freckles, Andrew notes quietly. It is, perhaps, what the make up was meant to cover up.

“You are not going to win, Charlie,” Andrew says. “We’re the more capable team.”

Pilot smiles indulgently. “‘Charlie’,” he repeats, mouth curling around the name. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been Charlie Pilot.” He jostles his tray from one hand to another, and loosens his collar with his freed hand. “And I don’t think you understand how much farther ahead we are than you. If you’re looking for information, we already have it. If you’re trying to find the connections this place has to the Yakuza, we’re the ones undoing them.”

“Who’s we? I don’t remember seeing anything about loyalty in your case file. You’re just a runner.”

Pilot looks briefly bothered by this, and he juts his chin again. “I’m loyal to whoever’s doing the work that needs to be done.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. Who are you?”

He looks down, at Andrew’s empty hands, at the hip where he’s hiding his gun. His expression is warped and sad when he looks up, like the real filling in his strange costume is finally oozing out.

“You can call me Neil,” he says, and drops the whole tray of food so that it clatters and rolls into the host’s feet. There are gasps and yelps, partygoers dodging and stooping to catch the runaway platter. Andrew looks impulsively down to track its progress, and when he looks sharply back up into the knot of activity, Neil is gone. Of course he is.

He doesn’t have time to think about where he might have disappeared to, just steps neatly into the opportunity that’s been afforded to him. He uses the distraction as a doorway directly into the offices behind the coddled host.

Kevin is asking repeatedly for updates, and Andrew fishes the earpiece out and tucks it into his breast pocket. He likes to be alone for this part, when the most important door closes behind him and everything makes as much sense as a ticking clock.

He keeps thinking of Neil’s reaction to ‘runner’, of the vulnerability trussed up in his persona. He finds himself sick to his stomach wanting to know what his real hair colour is.

He tries every door in the polished row of them, finding all of them locked. He picks the lock on the door farthest from the burble of the ballroom behind him, and cracks into what looks like a room built for business arrangements and drinking. There’s a snifter next to a half dozen tumblers on a cart along the wall, and extensive cabinets under the desk.

He feels his way along the underside of the desk, and opens each drawer, idealistically left unlocked and unprotected. He finds useless information and shady information and heaps of anonymous, unlabeled tapes.

He finds the safe in the floor, facing up patiently under a wingback chair and a panel of floorboard. He stoops so that he’s face to face with it, shrugs his jacket off like a dead skin onto the floor, and puts the heart of a stethoscope to the face of the safe.

He’s sweating, spread out surreptitiously on the floor, but the safe is flimsy. It cracks in under an hour, the party wilting two rooms over, pressure taking him by the hair. Andrew flicks the door open impatiently, unwinding the stethoscope from around his neck.

It’s filled top to bottom with paper, and he reaches for the first file, carding his fingers through the spill of sheets.

Got you, it says. Over and over again, in unassuming little typescript. And on the next page, got you.

Andrew’s fingers flex. The next file is the same, and the next. A million taunting, twirling repetitions: got you. Got this. Got here first.

The safe was already cracked. The list of names was already stolen. Neil’s face winks and swarms when he closes his eyes, furious. If you’re looking for information, we already have it.

He roots around for the bud in his pocket and pops it back into his ear. He leans back, splayed away from the spill from the safe, the stacks of failure. He enunciates clearly into the microphone sewn into his collar.

“We have to find Neil.”

Keep reading

#pining!draco #parseltongue #quidditch

Prompts: @yxxn-g1
Author: @queenofthyme

There may have been fourteen players on the field but Draco only had eyes for one. Fast, lean, focused, Potter was like a bullet the way he shot across the Quidditch pitch. The other seeker didn’t stand a chance. 

“No wonder you didn’t want me to come,” Blaise said from beside Draco, breaking him from his trance.

It was true – he didn’t want Blaise to come. Some of the eighth years had set up their own Quidditch club. Draco wasn’t a part of it, of course, but that didn’t mean he didn’t wake up ridiculously early every morning so he could watch them, well, Potter, play.

Draco, of course – he had the worst luck, made the mistake of stepping on that creaking floorboard by Blaise’s bed – he usually avoided it but the early starts had started to make his brain a little foggy.

Blaise hadn’t been too happy at being awoken before the sun itself, but the more Draco pushed for him to go back to sleep, the more curious he had become. In the end, he insisted Draco take him with him.

Draco forced his eyes to land on another player before replying. "What do you mean by that?“

Blaise snorted. "Come on, Draco, it’s pretty obvious why you’re here.”

Draco kept his face straight ahead, avoiding Blaise’s knowing eyes. “I enjoy Quidditch.”

“Maybe you enjoy it a little too much.”

Draco averted his eyes as Potter flew into his line of vision. That was hardly his fault. He turned to Blaise. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Blaise smirked. “I think you know exactly what I mean.” Blaise jerked his head out to the field. “Heads up, lover boy.”

Draco turned back to find Potter hurtling towards them, the snitch at the edge of the pitch where they sat in the stands. With his Quidditch robes flying behind him and a fierce determination in his eyes, Potter looked like a dream. In fact, Draco had had this very dream, maybe with a few minor adjustments to the rest of Potter’s clothing. (What clothing?)

Potter’s hand closed around the snitch – close enough that Draco could have leaned forward and snatched it up himself – and a low hissing sound escaped his mouth. Draco felt the sound in his entire body.

Potter twisted his broom with ease, avoiding impact with the stand, and flew back to his team, his hand raised high, showing off his win.

Draco slumped back – he had somehow found himself at the very tip of his seat, leaning into the pitch. His heart pounded against his chest, as if it wished to escape.

“What was that?” Blaise asked.

Draco waved a hand dismissively, focusing on calming his heartbeat. “It’s parseltongue. Potter use to – does speak it.”

“That’s not what I –“ Blaise paused. His voice grew mocking. “Oh no.”

Draco looked over to Blaise, alarmed. “What?”

Blaise smiled – it stretched over his face slowly. “You liked that, didn’t you?”

“No, I didn’t!” Draco crossed his legs nervously. He immediately regretted it when Blaise’s eyes were drawn to the action, widening at the implication.

“You did!” Blaise clapped his hands together. He was enjoying this. “You pervert! Potter’s snake tongue has got you all hot and bothered.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Draco insisted. “Why would – “ Draco spotted Potter flying back up to the stand and his voice faltered. The snitch was nowhere to be seen.

Blaise leaned into Draco to whisper: “Better keep your legs crossed.”

Draco blushed. “I AM NOT HA - Potter!” Draco yelled as Potter approached. “Good catch.” Great form. Amazing body.

Potter dismounted his broom, considerably less gracefully then he flew. “Thanks, Malfoy” he said, one hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. “I didn’t know you were - I mean, did you want to play? Is that why you’re here? Because I can – “

“I’m fine,” Draco interrupted. He didn’t fancy making a fool of himself.

“Draco prefers to watch,” Blaise added. Draco shot him a murderous look. Blaise. Was. Dead.

Luckily, Potter didn’t catch on to the meaning. He shuffled on the spot. “Oh, okay then. If you change your mind, let – “

“Why do you - when you - why do you do that?” Draco blurted out before Potter could leave.

Potter tilted his head, staring at Draco intently with puckered eyebrows, confusion clear on his face.

“He means why do you speaks parseltongue when you catch the snitch,” Blaise translated.

Potter’s face relaxed; he laughed sheepishly. “You heard that? It’s just something that happens when I’m not concentrating on what I’m saying.” Potter paused to think about it. “You know, when I’m reacting instinctively.”

“Reacting instinctively hmm?” Blaise repeated, his whole face alight. “That must happen quite a bit huh, Potter?” Blaise said with a painfully obvious wink, nudging Draco as he did.

“Yeah, actually, it’s – “ Blaise’s implication must have hit Potter a second too late. He fumbled over his words. “What are you - Oh I didn’t mean - that’s not - I mean, you don’t need to - um.” Potter closed his mouth firmly, a blush creeping over his cheeks. Draco could see the cogs in Potter’s mind working overtime, trying to find an escape. Draco felt quite the same way. Blaise was worse than dead.

“I should get back to the team,” Potter said, after a telling pause, mounting his broom.

“Bye, Potter,” Blaise said sweetly. “Draco looks forward to the opportunity to hear your parseltongue once more.”

Potter hissed again, low and breathy. Draco didn’t require a translation to know Potter was swearing.

“He means during Quidditch,” Draco quickly covered up, crossing his legs tighter and internally vowing to destroy Blaise for the most mortifying experience of his life.

“No I – “

Draco clapped a hand over Blaise’s mouth before he could ruin Draco’s day further. Draco tried to smile at Potter, his face burning.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then,” Potter said, his face just as aflame as Draco’s. “Our next Quidditch meet,” he explained when Draco remained silent.

Draco nodded a little too enthusiastically once he understood Potter’s meaning, already anticipating the next time he might hear Potter make that hissing sound again. “Yeah, see you tomorrow, Potter.”

more like this l @queenofthyme

What I Read This Week

(19/3/17)

Since I’m on holiday, I got to read SO many wonderful fics this week!

how the mighty fall (in love) by braveten, Gen, 28k
Every Victor Nikiforov fan has three things in common.
1. They have unrealistic expectations for romance.
2. They mark their calendars with the dates of his newest book releases and the premieres of his latest movie adaptations.
3. They either passionately hate or love his greatest rival, a mysterious author whose pseudonym is only two letters: “KY.” Just finished yesterday!

The Boyfriend Experience by cryingoverspilledvodka, Explicit, 107k (WIP)
Katsuki Yuuri is an accomplished escort at 23, operating under the pseudonym Eros, in Detroit. When one of his favourite clients sets him up with none other than world-renowned figure skater Victor Nikiforov, the delicate balance between Yuuri’s personal and professional life teeters ever closer towards ruin. Y’ALL…. this fic is gold

Twenty-Five Hours by 0lizzybennet0, Mature, 14k (WIP)
In which Yuuri spends a 25 hour flight next to Victor Nikiforov, skating legend, and feels it might simultaneously be the best and worst thing that has ever happened to him. EVERYONE MUST READ THIS FIC IT IS SO GOOD

Nerve Endings by Phyona, Explicit, 54k (WIP)
When Yuuri moves in with Victor in St. Petersburg, they have to work through Yuuri’s anxiety and Victor’s secrets to find their balance. Love this fic so much!

Like a Fairytale by lucycamui, Teen, 48k (WIP)
In which Prince Victor gets swept off his feet at a royal banquet and will go to any length to find his ‘Cinderella’ Yuuri. SO CUTE

Masquerade by Ashida, Explicit, 60k (WIP)
Yuuri is part of Japan’s most notorious mafias. Victor is the head of the Russian mafia. After brief meetings throughout the span of five years, they decide to go off together and leave everything behind. I AM OBSESSED WITH THIS FIC!

On My Love by RikoJasmine, Teen, 72k (WIP)
Time travel AU where Yuuri and Victor are happy aged and married, but an accident occurs and suddenly Yuuri wakes up back in Detroit, in a time before he had even met Victor. Angst and pining ensues. Amazing fic!

dear true love by cityboys, Teen, 36k (WIP)
Victor is a writer pretending to be on a break; Yuuri is a pianist pretending to not be on a break. They meet, somehow, in the backwaters of Saga Prefecture, Japan. I adore this fic!!!

Turn it, leave it, stop, format it by ebenroot, Explicit, 19k
“If you want, I can recommend you some security programs that you can download for free and protect your computer. That way, you won’t be at risk of losing these cute photos of your dog even when you browse websites like ‘Luscious Lonely Wives’.” Victor gives one long ‘haa’. “I don’t browse those websites,” he says through his straining smile. SO CUTE AND FUNNY!

Beside the Dancing Sea by lily_winterwood, MapleTreeway, Explicit, 186k
New York Times-bestselling author Viktor Nikiforov arrives in the sleepy seaside town of Torvill Cove to cure his writer’s block. After encountering local wallflower Yuuri Katsuki at a party, he discovers that this mysterious dark-haired man has a couple secrets up his sleeve. Amazing fic!

From Russia, With Thinly Veiled Hate by diogcnes, Mature, 1.2k (WIP)
“The name’s Nikiforov, Viktor Nikiforov.”
“Jesus, Viktor. Do you have to say that to every mark we meet?” I can’t wait for more!!!

Rock, Paper, Scissors by nerdlife4eva, Mature, 3.3k
Victor and Yuuri discover the only chore they both dislike is vacuuming and decide to rock, paper, scissors (RPS) each time the chore needs to be completed. Yuuri is an ace at RPS and Chris sends them personalized charts to track their successes. Super funny!

turntables by Vitali (exocara), Teen, 4.3k
It happens approximately one week after Yuuri’s disastrous performance in Sochi.
Viktor Nikiforov @v-nikiforov
I wish I could date pretty black haired boys who dance well. LOOOVE THIS

cover story by fan_nerd, Explicit, 8.2k
Yuuri stares down at the person standing in the doorway. The stranger hisses, “Who do you think you are, anyways?” Quickly, before he can really think about it, Yuuri responds, “I’m Victor’s boyfriend.” It’s a lie, but the words feel good in his mouth, and for some reason, he doesn’t want to take them back. GREAT fic! BIG THUMBS UP!

(˃̶͈̀_˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾( ノ_ಠ)₍₍ (̨̡ ‾᷄♡‾᷅ )̧̢ ₎₎

Here’s to another week of great fic reading! Be sure to give the authors some love!

Chem Miss

Author: @kpopfanfictrash as part of Bangtan University - a series of ongoing one shots with @eradikeats-writes

Creative Content Contributors: @daegusoftboys (her moodboards for the series are perfection)

Pairing: Reader / Jimin

Rating: 18+ (explicit sex, dirty talk)

Word Count: 12,807

Summary: “You’re my TA. I’m in your class. I’m sure you don’t want to spend your Saturday night talking to me about biochem.”

Jimin appears amused by this. “Who’s to say that I don’t? Also,” he leans in, a slight smile on his lips. “Who says we have to talk about Chemistry?”

Keep reading

Together, Alone (Soulmark AU)

Idk how people feel about reading 1.6K drabbles on tumblr, so I also posted it on AO3 for funsies! 

Dedicated to @serpensthesia for her birthday! #serpaken for life <3

Thanks to @bixgirl1 and @jadepresley for reading over this for me! And to @femmequixotic and @noeeon for encouraging the idea and making me write! <3<3<3


It started on his seventeenth birthday.

Draco had known it would start then, of course. That part was normal. The clock was supposed to manifest as a tattoo on his skin, and begin its countdown to the moment Draco would meet his Soulmate. He’d been looking forward to the clock’s appearance all year— desperate for anything that might take his mind off his hopeless situation. Draco was exhausted, the damned cabinet was never going to be fixed, and his whole family was probably going to die as punishment.

And Draco had been prepared to die with them, resigned to the fact that his countdown tattoo might not appear at all, or might be stuck at 00:00:00:00:00:00 right from the beginning.

Draco had not, however, been prepared for the clock to appear at midnight and begin counting down from a mere one minute and seventeen seconds. His heart jumped in his chest. Clearly Draco was one of those rare wizards who had already met their Soulmate, but hadn’t known yet because he wasn’t of age at the time. Which didn’t help Draco in the slightest, as he could think of precisely nobody at Hogwarts who he might like to spend the rest of his life with.

He stood up from the stool he’d set in front of the hopeless cabinet, grabbed his wand, and began making his way to the door of the Room of Hidden Things. Between the time he’d spent staring at his countdown in disbelief, the time it took to reach the door, and the few seconds he devoted to not panicking, the clock reached zero at the very moment he pushed open the door.

Keep reading

reyes-vdal  asked:

if you still have your requests open, maybe companions react to Sole kissing them in order to keep quiet around enemies? maybe romanced companions too? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) but fantastic blog btw c:

Cait: “Why don’t you shut your damn-” Sole cuts her off mid-hiss, stifling the angry whisper so the passing enemies don’t catch wind of her theatrics. Cait’s caught off-guard, and briefly considers throwing Sole off just out of spite. But, Sole’s lips are awfully nice. Tossing them into battle would just be rude. So, grudgingly, Cait lets herself be silenced, even returning the kiss near the end.

Codsworth: “Ah… Mx. Sole, I appreciate the intent, but putting your mouth on my speaker will not actually muffle the sounds. The reverberation inside my torso will-” A barrage of gunfire pelts the cover to their side. “I see that perhaps now was not the best time to correct you.”

Curie: Her squeak is adorable to say the least, and she turns very still, her hands curling into her pants, or the dirt if they’re lying on soft ground. Sole’s looking around her, keeping an eye on the enemies, but Curie is transfixed, baffled by this strange act of “kissing.” Sole has to gently pull away when she gets a little too distracted by experimenting with it.

Danse: The paladin isn’t mouthy at the best of times, but he must have been talking just a little too loud for Sole to hush him up just then. He doesn’t say anything. His cheeks flame red and he goes very still, thinking that he must be imagining what Sole just did. He’s almost thankful when the shooting starts, as it allows him to hide the burning color in his face.

Deacon: He pulls away, startled. The sound of his movement gives them away, and the pair have to scramble to fight off the baddies. Sole apologizes sheepishly, and Deacon waves them off with a embarrassed chuckle. “Sure, sure. I get what you were going for, and I know I’m irresistible-” He flashes finger guns at them. “-but you have to give me a little warning. Thanks.”

Dogmeat: He goes still, tail pointed up with Sole’s hands on his face and their lips on his nose. His ears point straight up, but he’s as quiet as can be. He’s a very good boy, and gets rewarded with headpats when the enemies pass. 

Hancock: Whatever he was saying becomes a pleased hum when Sole’s lips meet his. Without missing a beat, he returns the kiss, catching Sole off-guard, but not in a bad way. The ghoul might not have much lip left, but he knows how to use what he’s got. Poor Sole ends up being seduced after that. They should know better than to get a lecherous mayor in the mood.

Nick Valentine: He’s shocked. This is not something he’s had to deal with for a long time, though he can’t say he hasn’t thought about it. His hands flail for a minute, ghosting over Sole’s body before awkwardly resting on their hips. He feels like a schoolboy seeing his first boob all over again. Though, if Sole likes the flabbergasted look on his face, he could seeing a lot more than that later.

MacCready: Hot damn. He’s allowed to swear in his head, right? For a moment, he curses himself for not brushing his teeth yesterday. He never brushes his teeth, but he always thinks he will. And he should have done it yesterday. Now he just has to savor the feeling of Sole’s mouth until they pull away and he has to shoot some bastards with a tent in his jeans.

Piper: Her cheeks tint a pretty shade of pink. Her eyebrows lift, and she takes the moment to try and kiss… good. Kiss better? Kiss well? She’s not sure what the right word is. She ends up sticking her tongue in Sole’s mouth in an attempt to be “seductive,” which makes Sole burst into giggles and defeats the point of trying to be quiet anyway.

Preston: He goes quiet until the enemies’ footsteps fade away, then gently pulls back from Sole’s lips. “Take me out to dinner first?” he asks with a smile. He and Sole giggle, but then the giggles fade, and their eyes meet. The silence lasts a few seconds before Preston goes in for another kiss, and, well…

Strong: “HUMAN NOT EAT STRONG.” Whoopsie, now they’re being shot at. Poor Sole. They tried.

X6-88: When Sole pulls away, X6 sounds almost irritated. “There were better ways to handle that situation,” he says, though the annoyance is mostly to hide his surprise. No one’s ever kissed him like that before. No one’s ever kissed him before, period. Later, much later, he musters the confidence to ask: “So… what you did, three days ago. During the… stealth maneuver. What was your motivation behind that?”

Teacher’s pet

Namjoon x reader

genre: professor!Namjoon, slight dom!namjoon, smut

word count: 6.1k

especially for @lonely-kitten-named-bambi and my other Boos out there


Your new literature professor, Kim Namjoon, decided to make you the teacher’s personal pet..

He was the smartest man you had the pleasure to meet throughout your entire life..but the sex was primal, exhilarating, feral..

Tall, lean, charming with two small holes digging in his flawless cheeks he stood there with his brown case waiting for your professor to finish the introduction. His hair was neatly parted, but you could see that the loose strands stood up in several directions which were tried to be tamed in a rush while his white shirt was stuffed into his black suit pants which were more than unsuited for a dusty, old classroom in the city’s biggest university.

His large hands ran through his hair in an attempt to comb the mess back. Dark pupils roamed through the room, looking for help with his looks..landing on you. Grinning from one end of your mouth to the other you shook your head in a slight denial, his expression asking how it was now after another attempt of stroking the strands back. Another shake, your hair falling into your face. The man in the front of your class softly smiled, his dimples shown a second time while shrugging his shoulders at you, giving up to tame his locks. His attention was lazily wandering back to your professor ending his speech with a wide gesture towards the man beside him.

“And this is how we hired such a young new colleague. This old uni needs new wind and with Mr. Kim it’s provided.”

Quiet chatter filled the room as the female students giggled, exchanging high pitched whispers after hearing that the man who looked way too out of place was the newly hired substitute for your sick literature and maths professor. Your friend nudged your side, wiggling her brows which made you laugh softly, your hand covering your mouth.

“He’s my type”, she whispered, licking her lips, gaze darting towards the young man standing next to the chubby, older professor. “And I know you also would smash.”

“You can bet that I want”, you responded, following her eyes down the rows, lingering on Mr. Kim’s handsome face, his plump lips pursed into a faint smile greeting the few students in front of him before his deep voice resonated from your classroom’s walls, confident and loud.

“Let me introduce myself. My name is Kim Namjoon, I’m currently the substitute teacher in literature and maths for you”, he let his dark orbs wander from one student to the next. “I appreciate punctuality and presence. If anyone of you has questions regarding the lessons don’t hesitate and meet me after class.” The words left his pink lips while meeting your eyes, the expression behind them darkening, inviting you to stay behind and ask about things he could teach you despite stuff for your studies. “We’re starting easy after we’re alone”, he motioned for the older, chubby teacher to leave, giving him a smile making the older one blush.

The two hours wouldn’t end, his presence filling the room, a born leader, a man who knew his way with words, charmingly explaining the dumbest of questions with a soft smile. Your eyes were drawn to the way he moved his arm up, his large hand swiftly flying over the written words lining the blackboard while looking over his shoulder, lips constantly pulled upwards. Not to mention his backside view..long, toned legs covered in dark suit pants, his ass perking up while concentrated gesturing over the board.

Unlucky enough you couldn’t follow what he told the class, your whole attention laying on his handsome face, brown eyes piercing yours now and then, scolding you silently to pay attention to class instead of his damn fine looking ass, but you didn’t. Obviously staring back, gnawing on one of your pencils was what you did, not caring how stupid you might look in his pretty eyes.

“Any questions?”, Kim Namjoon cocked one of his dark brows up, tilting his head to the side bluntly meeting your staring eyes even though the question was directed to all of his new students.

“Mr. Kim?”, one of the girls in the first row lifted her manicured hands, her blonde hair swiftly brushing over her shoulder. “As the class president you should be informed about the upcoming class trip to the woods in like a week. I wanted to ask you about it after class if that’s alright with you.” Her voice was as sweet as honey, slick and sickening in your ears wherefore you just scoffed, her glare telling you to better shut it before she snapped. Again.

Mr. Kim’s expression showed how shook he was from her announcement of a class trip he didn’t know of, but nodded with pursed lips. “And I anticipate that I as you substitute teacher have to come along, right?”

High pitched agrees followed his words, the girls around you standing up from their seats to collect around your new professor, eyes sparkling with excitement over the fact that he’ll be the one accompanying your class. Sighing you also stood up, their behaviour too much for you. Ah, no, you definitely found Kim Namjoon undoubtedly attractive, but you were also old enough to know that nothing would come out of it even with some heavy tries. Therefore you only shook your head, grinning at the dozen girls chattering cheerfully, drowning your professor in endless private questions.

“So you’re coming?”, “You should drink with us one night!”, “We’ll be on the same floor, right?”, “Are you married?”, “How are you so young and a prof?”…

Your friend, Lea, was mixing into the mass, waving you to move your ass and ask a few questions yourself, but you just denied, laughing a little as you leaned against the door frame, saying your farewells towards the young men escaping out of the room.

“Crazy bitches, aren’t they?”, a familiar voice, giggling and low shook you slightly, your head turning towards the boy with the orange hair, his view focused on the female students urging the young professor to spit some private details. “I can’t believe they’re that desperate”, Jimin laughed, his blue leather jackets pulling closer.

You nodded, following your friend’s dark orbs, seeing how your friend tried to catch Mr. Kim’s attention with yelling the loudest which cracked you up. “Freaks.”

Jimin smiled at you, his eyes crinkled while tilting his head. “You’re not, huh? I know that one time in high school after we-”

“Miss y/l/n, right? Please wait a little longer. I need to talk to you”, Kim Namjoon’s voice overturned the chatting girls, stopping you from turning around. Surprised you looked left and right, your finger pointing towards your chest. You? “I dismiss you ladies for now. Get home safely, we see each other tomorrow.”

Pouting protest resonated from the walls as one girl after the other slandered out of the room until Lea, Jimin, the bitch Hanna and Mr. Kim were the only persons present in the dusty classroom.

“I also would like to excuse you three as I have to speak with your classmate alone.”

Jimin scrunched his nose, giving Mr. Kim a strange look before shrugging his shoulders. “See you tomorrow, y/n.”

Nodding the other two girls walked out of the room looking back over their shoulders as the tall, handsome professor closed the door with a faint, annoyed smile on his plump lips.

Waiting for him to speak up blood rushed into your cheeks. You knew exactly why he wanted to talk to you alone. He had caught you staring without even bothering to narrow your gaze and listen to his explanation. Scratching your neck you bit down your lip, slightly regretting your bluntness although you were confident a moment ago, but his confidence and the intimate glare of his eyes made you squirm. The silence stretching out killing you slowly hence you looked up, the man in front of you leaned over the teacher’s desk, his hands supporting his tall figure.

“Anything to say?”, his voice was deep, nothing but a whisper while tilting his head, the friendly atmosphere surrounding him gone, replaced by something dark, sinful.

“N-No?”, it was more of an ask than a steady answer, the hair on your arms standing straight. “I mean..no.”

Shaking his messy thatch he sighed, his pink bottom lip pulled between his teeth. Then you noticed him slowly separating from his desk, slandering around it ere he stood in front of you, his arms crossed over his chest. His presence told you how dominant he was, how intelligent he was to lull you into anything. Feeling his eyes on you, you didn’t dare to look up, digging your own hole under his view.

“Too bad, Miss y/l/n”, he leaned down, his lips close to your ear, breathing in deeply. “If you need a lesson just tell me. You seemed not to pay enough attention in class today and it’s only my first day. That’s no good first impression..”, his voice trailed off, Mr. Kim’s breath hitting your face now as he turned his head right in your direction. “I want a report of today’s lesson by tomorrow. Meet me after class again.”

With that he turned away from you, his heat paralysing you. Gulping you tried to keep up with your professor, your throat dry as the desert wherefore you had to swallow more than once. What as going on? You were one of the top students in class and you had to write a fucking report? What the hell?

“Mr. K-Kim!”, you called out to him as he snatched his belongings, stuffing them into his brown case. “I don’t understand right n-”

“Are you dumb, Miss y/l/n? I told you to write a report of today’s lesson’s content. Don’t leave a thing out”, he straightened himself, his sharp words taking you aback with shock tracing your face. His long legs took him further to you, his face dangerously close as he leaned down a second time today. “More attention on class, Miss y/l/n. I caught you staring..”, his free hand shot up, delicate fingers flying over your cleavage, your body flinching at his cold touch. “So much confidence in your eyes before..Where is it now?”

Your mouth plopped open at his move, his words piercing through you like sharp, tiny needles. By the time his digits reached under your collar you weren’t able to answer, let alone smack his hand away..which you didn’t even want..


You couldn’t remember the last time you were afraid and nervous of your upcoming classes. Usually you enjoyed them more than other students, but not now as you knew who waited down the rows. Kim Namjoon, substitute professor in literature and maths. With fluttering heart you entered the dusty old room, the neatly dressed man in the front greeting your classmates with a bright smile that showed his dimples until his eyes lingered on you, darting down to your breasts with a knowing expression lacing his brown, dark eyes. Blood tinged your cheeks a rose hue as you remembered the day before, his fingers stroking a sinful path down between your covered breasts with the words of being a cute, shy mouse. Which you normally weren’t.

“Good morning, Miss y/l/n. The report?”, he asked you as you walked past him, the sheets weighing heavy in your bag at his words.

Nodding you rushed over to your seat next to Lea, who was intentionally early this morning. Who knows why, huh.. Her eyes sparkled as she leaned in your direction the moment you sat down, your jacket still on your shoulders. “Why didn’t you pick up yesterday? What did Mr. Kim want from you? He looked kind of..pissed at you.”

Exhaling a loud breath of frustration you slammed the report down on your desk, showing Lea that you were scolded after class. At this fact your friend’s eyes shot wide, her mouth agape.

“You?”

“Yeah, me. What a nerve this damn professor has”, you scoffed, laying your head on your folded hands. “I stayed up all night after my shift to write this shitty report.”

Getting a glance of sympathy Lea patted your back, rubbing circles to relax your stiff muscles which weren’t caused by the late night session after work, but by the man who watched you from down the rows, his plump lips turned upwards again, his eyes darkening while watching you.


“Here”, you put the sheets down his desk without giving him a single look. “Can I go?”

Mr. Kim stood up from his seat, circling the wooden table, taking in the words you had effortlessly written. “Found your courage again? Or do I’ve to lure you into being a good girl?”

“What?”

Namjoon sighed pinching his nose. “Listen, you don’t need to deny it”, one step closer. “I’ve seen you walk around for months on campus. One shy girl with the boys”, another step. “Oh, there’s one guy you were interested in, right? The one with the orange hair, Jimin”, he chuckled lowly, his legs taking him further towards you. “Unlucky you didn’t get him, or the other way around?”, Namjoon stood only a few centimetres from you, his expensive cologne intoxicating you from up close. You had difficulties looking into his face, his tall figure hovering right above you, eyes narrowed down to meet yours. “You think I just picked on some innocent, smart girl and let her do some shitty report?”

With every word falling from his plump lips he leaned into you, his body heat feeling on your own by now. His attractive face a couple of centimetres away from yours, breath hitching as he shifted his head, small dimples like holes in his cheeks as he smirked.

“Where’s the girl who bluntly stared at me? Watching me while gnawing on her pencil?”

You bit your lip not knowing what to say to his dirty words as he drove your senses crazy, kicking your rightful judgement overboard. “She’s..h-here.”

Namjoon chuckled again, his shirt rolled up revealing a costly watch, the brand one you’d never be able to afford. His skin shone honey like in the yellow light of the classroom, smooth and soft whereas his hands slowly traced over your bare arms. “Here? Where?”

Clearing your throat you tried to meet his gaze, but instead of looking into a pair of brown, pretty eyes you were confronted with plump, rose lips that invited you. They seemed soft, wet and oh so kissable you couldn’t force yourself to avert your eyes off of his mouth that pursed into a lopsided grin at your staring.

“She’s slowly coming out of her hideout, isn’t she?”, Mr. Kim’s voice was a whisper, getting darker the more he caught you staring at his prominent lips.

“What do you want?”, your voice was nothing more than a whiff, chewing on your lower lip while you tried to get yourself off of his smug smile to glance at the still open door. “It’s open..”

Confusion traced his pretty features before he turned around, seeing that the door was wide open, showing the students walking down the hall how close you two stood to each other. The light noise of his black shoes on the floor were heard ere the door was closed, the key turning in its lock wherefore your eyes shot wide. What was happening?

Namjoon then slandered back challenging you with crossed arms, forcing you to step back until your ass hit the desk, your escape plan vanishing into thin air.

“I read your latest essays”, he started, his hands enclosing around the edge of the desk in your back, his upper body leaning down slightly stopping in a close distance in front of your blushing face. “You’re one clever girl..and so pretty..”

“You’re saying this to your student? That’s forbidden..dirty”, you whispered biting down you lip again. He was too close to you to think straight, the words only spilling from your lips because your conscience faintly told you to at least try to get him off of your mind. Of course it wasn’t working as he was far too close to you.

Namjoon furrowed his brows, his smile never leaving his lips despite the perplexed expression washing over his face for a brief moment. “I’m not even thirty and your an adult as well. And I’m blunt with what I want. Right now it would be you, y/n.”

Your name coming from him for the first time got you the moment the first letter fell from his plump lips. Without warning you grabbed his collar, shoving your worries aside you swallowed the forming knot before you dared to meet his dark gaze.

“Why me? You don’t know me.”

A small chuckle you knew by now sounded through the room. “I don’t care. I don’t want a relationship right now. I’m young and the ladies love me”, he paused, one hand freeing from its position to cup your cheeks, his warmth transferring on yours, spreading out on your already heated, red face. “But I’m not interested in anyone who can’t reach my way of thinking..”

On the way down to meet your lips you closed your eyes to take in the upcoming sensation with all your senses. Softly, a feeling like a rose’s petal brushed over your parted lips, a touch rather fragile and careful you didn’t expect from a smart, confident and handsome man like Kim Namjoon. As fast as his mouth lay on yours he parted from you, the hand on your cheeks falling back down to grab the edge a second time.

“Tell me, y/n, is the clever girl with the pretty face finally crawling out of her hideout?”, Namjoon cocked his brows up, grinning at you with crinkling eyes. But you could see that his smile wasn’t honest, a deeper, craving emotion tracing his black oculars, waiting for your answer.

A cocky smile finally appeared on your face, tinging your shy self into the girl you usually represented, the girl he saw just yesterday at the beginning of the day’s lessons. “Don’t know why don’t we find out then?”

A huge, bright smile spread out on Namjoon’s tanned face, his light giggle causing a tightness inside your stomach. “She’s out.”

Not saying another word - as if another one was needed anyway - his mouth clashed on yours with a lot more force than before. Now it was your turn to let your hands roam around his chest, pulling him tight by the shirt to feel his lips pressing harshly on your own. Swallowing his breaths you entwined your tongue with his, suddenly being pulled by the hair so he had better access to your wet, pink cave, giving him a few breathless mewls as an answer.

“Turn around”, his voice sounded was deeper than ever, sparks of arousal lacing his dark vocals. “I won’t stop for you, baby. Last chance to run.”

No need to confirm his offer you obeyed, turning around to lay your hands on the surface of the wooden desk. Mr. Kim chuckled, the husky sound giving you ultimate goosebumps while watching him out of wide eyes over your shoulder. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest again and spreading his long legs, his hair was neatly combed today as he narrowed his gaze down your body with a grin on his face that let the dimples on his cheeks come alive.

“I like what I see, baby”, a low hum followed ere Namjoon’s hands landed on your sides, pulling you into his crotch in a harsh move, his bony fingers digging deep into your covered flesh. “What should I do with a girl like you, hm?”

Whimpering you perked up your ass that was dressed in a black, waisted rock, bending forward to show you professor a glint of your soft skin, the over-knee socks completing your signature school outfit. Whereas you did that you could hear Namjoon hiss, his growing bulge rubbing over your revealed skin, his hands now tracing to your shoulders, massaging them softly before his grip got solid, hardly pushing your body straight down the cold surface of the table. His hips never left your ass, circling them until he was fully erect ere Namjoon separated his core and hands from you.

“Stay like this”, he growled lowly while you witnessed a zipper being opened, the rustling of fabric pulled down. “Ah ah, baby, don’t look.”

His hands shot up, taking your hair in his fist to guide your head back down where your face met the cool material of his teacher’s desk. Protesting you arched your back, teasing him with what you were wearing underneath your girly skirt.

“Disobedient? Just as I thought you’d be”, a chuckle resonated from the walls accompanied by a kick separating your legs further. “Don’t like that though..”

If you wouldn’t know better you could say that you felt pure craving for the man you just met, and was your new professor. Your panties felt tight, clinging onto your already dripping folds wherefore you had to force yourself not to press your legs together again to feel anything on your aching bundle of nerves. But you refrained from it, excited what Mr. Kim had planned for you, his student.

“Why can’t I see you?”, you purred, your hands almost clenching around the edges of the brown desk.

Silence answered you before you witnessed warm fingers gradually stroking from your ankles up to your shaking thighs. They hit your skin lightly, caressing the spot afterwards. “I much rather see you, baby. You’re seeing me earlier than you wish.”

Biting your lower lip you nodded, waiting with your face now laying on the coldness, your cheek burning against it. Then you felt Namjoon’s fingers going further up, touching your covered folds with a loud hiss.

“Damn, baby, you’re so wet.”

Purring: “I bet you’re just as hard”, his digits slipped into the band of your panties to slide them down torturing slow.

“Hard?”, his deep, melodious voice reached your ear dangerously close, his warm breath hitting your face from above. “I would say it’s perfectly ready for your cute, little pussy, baby.”

Goosebumps. Your hair standing straight as his hands found their way over your now bare ass, trailing towards your slick folds to caress them with his bony fingers. Small, feminine mewls escaped you wherefore your professor pressed his index finger on your clit, making you squirm under his blunt touch.

Aching your back you tried to make him finally move his hand, but all you got was soft laughter next to your ear. “Needy?”

“Yes”, you immediately agreed, the right choice as his fingers circled around your entrance, coating them into your juices while sliding them to your nub to rub gently over it, covering it in your arousal to pleasure you even more. He was certainly experienced, his warm skin doing wonders with a few strokes that turned your mind blank. Shallow breath on your side filled the dusty classroom, panting heavily under his unbearable, blissful touch, turning the coin in your lower stomach almost..

“I think you’re doing great, baby, but what about me?”, Namjoon kissed your ear, taking your earlobe between his plump, wet lips to nibble on it as he waited for you to answer, his fingers slowing down to a torturing pace hence your hips twitched uncontrolled, wanting more of his previous doing.

“P-please make me come”, you whimpered at the sensation his pearly whites caused on your sensitive earlobe. “Please, Mr. Kim-”

A rather strong bite let you moan in pain, his digits now pressing heavily on your clit to make you come..right? But then they were gone, leaving you shaking on the warming surface of his desk.

“You should take care of your superior first, don’t you think? I mean, if you’re a good girl your getting a few extra points in the next test.”

Scoffing at his words you turned around, glaring at his smirking face that was slightly flushed, the typical holes showing on his cheeks. “As if I need extra credit.”

Despite your faked scorn you were dared to look down your professor’s body, the rolled up shirt clinging to his lean body while your eyes wandered down towards a way better view. His open suit pants, no boxers or other underwear underneath, his cock erect, pointing at you. His glance was inviting, leaving your sarcastic comment aside. “How about you go down on your pretty knees, baby?” Namjoon cocked one brow up, gesturing with his head for you to better obey and kneel in front of his dick to take the best of it. “If you’re doing as I say, you can come, how does that sound?”

“Even if you don’t let me, I can easily make myself come at home”, you grinned cheekily, blinking your eyelashes ere his hands grabbed your shoulders to push you into a kneeling position beneath him. It was a move that should show you who was in charge here and it was definitely not you.

Shaking your head in disbelief you chewed on your bottom lip, looking back up to meet your young professor’s darkening eyes which told you how ready he was, lust spilling over. With innocence you adjusted your skirt, brushing your hair out of your face ere you tilted your head, sticking your tongue out to give his leaking cock a slow, strong lick over the tip without leaving his brown eyes. A indentation formed between his eyes as his brows furrowed at your motion, taking it in with hungry eyes.

“Don’t tease, you dirty girl. You can’t fool me with your fluttering eyela- Fuck!”

No caring what he said about you, you grabbed his balls in one of your warm hands, letting them roll tenderly in it while taking his throbbing tip in your mouth, hollowing your cheeks at once to double the sensation chasing through his body. But that wasn’t all as your tongue latched over his tip inside your mouth, pushing his stretched skin up and down his length while deepening yourself onto his cock. His body tensed under your touch, your other hand holding him by his still dressed thigh to steady his position.

“Fuck, baby..you’re a naughty little student, aren’t you”, his breathy voice was raspy, eyes lingering on your lips, wet from your saliva and his pre cum flowing down over his cock, wetting your mouth. “Take me in all the way..yes just like this.”

You bobbed your head up before you took his aching, throbbing cock in your mouth completely, his tip hitting the back of your throat which made you gag a bit. Getting used to the feeling of his thick length you deepened down further until your nose met the shadow above his dick. A violent twitch beside his feral groan told you that you hit his sweet spot. Therefore you repeated this movement, his dick coated in your saliva wherefore slick sounds filled the air around you and making it easier to let yourself slide down his length.

Suddenly Mr. Kim’s large hand enclosed around your hair, pulling your head from his cock to greet you with a cocky, breathy chuckle. “Taking your professor’s cock well, my cute little student.”

Humming you licked over your parted lips, taking in some of the bitter but sweet taste left on them. To emphasize your naughtiness you moaned at the same time, your hands pulling him into your face to give his red, swollen tip extra kitten licks, the man’s eyes rolling to the back of his head. The still solid fist in your air loosened to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking over your skin in a rather soft manner. Enjoying his touch you felt encouraged to make his time worth it, taking in his dick one by one, your tongue pressing on his slid before it finally hit the back of your throat again, this time without having to gag. Namjoon’s hands stroked over your scalp, running through your open hair ere they made you stop, holding you into position for him to move on his own.

“I’ll take the lead now, baby”, his husky voice whispered into the empty room, echoing from the walls, too loud in your ears. “Stay still.”

And so you did, your hands digging into his flesh he started to move his hips, a smooth roll shoving his cock right in your hot mouth, your tongue the perfect bed for his twitching dick. Thanks to his lead you were able to touch yourself, the missing panties helping to feel your touch, the needed friction provided by your own fingers making you mewl. This simple sound sent vibration through Mr. Kim’s lower body, a dark growl coming out of his parted lips, hastily biting down his lower, plump rim to muffle the grunts trying to escape him. It was dangerous if he let the room fill with other lewd sounds except for the ones coming from between his legs, slick, slurping noises sounding like music in his ears. But that would be the only ones droning through the locked door onto the corridor, several students, teachers and parents walking hastily up and down the floor, making you both quite nervous even though none of you showed it to the other.

And of course you both knew how wrong it was to have this kind of physical contact between a student and a professor, but it felt too good to stop now, your fingers massaging your clit the way you need to be touched, making yourself moan heavier into his dick with every rub provided by your own fingers. Your desperation didn’t go unnoticed as Mr. Kim couldn’t focus on you giving him a damn got blow job, but on your bare heat, sparsely covered by your hand. It got you both going to the point where Namjoon panted, his thrust getting heavier, hitting your throat mercilessly. You saw his chest heaving heavier by the second, his release close ere he cramped, his legs tensing under your free hand feeling his muscles flexing.

“I’m close. Fuck..baby..”, breathy, dark, raspy moans stretched those few words into eternity, his brown, deep orbs piercing yours as he forced you with a silent glare to lock eyes with his before a salve of hot, creamy seeds spurted into you. Namjoon’s head fell forward, his black oculars never wavering while you collected his cum on your tongue, his dick pulled out by him to the half causing his release to land straight on your wet muscle. Growling and hissing Namjoon’s fingers entwined in your hair, his limbs tensing the more his cock twitched, trying to get the last few drops out. You on the other side played the role of his innocent student, never letting the teacher out of your wide eyes whereas your mouth filled with his cum, the bitter, salty taste spreading out on your tongue. After Mr. Kim guided his dick out between your lips with one shaking hand, he breathed out with a tremble, sweat flowing down his temples mixing with a few loose strands of his hair. His shirt that was from a bright white started to get transparent in front of his chest revealing his heavy pants and tanned skin you wanted to brush over with your lips..

“You’re such a perfect student, y/n”, a second after he let go of you he separated himself from you, leaning his tall body against the desk, wiping of some sweat from his forehead with a smug smirk plastered across his plump, pretty lips. “And not spilling one bit of my sticky cum, good little girl.”

Questioning his announcement you tilted your head as to why your panting professor returned your expression, his fingers tardily closing his belt over his suit pants.

“What? Swallowed your voice with my cum?”, he chuckled, crossing his arms after he finished with his silver belt, the expression on his face amused by your behaviour.

Instead of answering you crawled closer to your professor, your slick index finger tapping on your throat for three times, signalling him that you still had his semen on your red tongue, rolling it over it to tease Mr. Kim a bit more.

“You still have it? Fuck, y/n!”

Nodding you folded your hands in your lap, chin high to look right into his face, reading his reaction as you opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out to proudly present the white, sticky seeds. Namjoon swallowed hard, his emotions running over his face until they stopped in awe. Then you closed your mouth, tapping on your throat again before gulping down his cum in one go, as loud as possible, intentionally letting out a soft moan.

Smacking your lips you stood up, taking your panties to put them back on, feeling your attractive professor’s view on you. As much of a tease that you were you bend down, your ass perking up to adjust your over-knee socks, swinging your hips while doing so.

“I guess all my future works will get grade A?”, you chirped, the heat from what you just did rushing in your cheeks.

“You really think a simple blow job gives you straight A’s? Sorry, baby, but fuck me and your grades rise to the top”, he chuckled, his hands running through his hair. “50 percent, nothing more.”

Pulling your eyebrows up you crossed your arms this time, spreading your legs to steady your position as Mr. Kim casually stepped towards you, his hands cupping your face gently.

You met his eyes, chewing on your bottom lip to distract yourself from his charming smile. “Let’s make..it 60 percent”, you whispered, your orbs drawn to his plump lips again, magically pulled by strings to keep your gaze on his pink mouth that stretched over his teeth making him even more irresistible. “I mean, I didn’t even c-come.”

Nodding Mr. Kim leaned down to give you a passionate kiss. Warmth spreading in your body you leaned into him, moving your lips on his, taking in the other’s rhythm ere he parted from you to say something.

“You’re a smart girl, y/n. What do you think will be happening at 100 percent?”, his lips brushed yours with every word, eyes piercing yours for an emotion he could work with.

“You mean fucking?”

Mr. Kim laughed, his dimples too cute for what he suggested. “If you want to call it that then yeah, I mean fucking you for good grades.”

Closing your eyes you let the feeling of his pink lips flow through you before you made up your mind. “Not a chance, Mr. Kim. I’m a top student, no need to fuck you for my grades”, you paused, opening your eyes, your hands laying flat on his chest to push him away from you, his presence making you too nervous, clouding your rightful judgement that was needed in this situation. “I was horny and to be honest, I’d do this again if it means I’m in front of the class president bitch.”

Perplexed Namjoon took in what you just said. But it was true, at least slightly true. It was thrilling to sleep with your professor, a young one and as handsome as Kim Namjoon only the icing. Yes, it was wrong, but you really couldn’t care less as it was your last year under his watching eyes. So why not having some fun on your own? Nobody would catch you doing inappropriate things anyway.

“That’s it then?”, Mr. Kim tilted his head, asking you with his eyes what you really wanted, but met a wall of stone, your answer hidden from his smart, charming orbs.

Turning around you waved at your professor who leaned back on his desk again, his head tilted whereas watching your figure reaching the locked door that you wanted to open if his voice wouldn’t fill the air inviting, laced with amusement and hunger for a certain girl’s body.

“I hope you’re excited for the upcoming class trip, y/n”, another deep chuckle that sent shivers down your spine and you didn’t even dare to look back to see Mr. Kim smirking at you with his damn cute dimples, his brown eyes seductively telling you his ideas for the trip.

everyone wanted this so i bring u battle couple malec + kissing in the rain enjoy!! :**

READ ON AO3

Magnus felt his magic pulse through his veins and out of his palm, blasting away another Circle member. He dodged an attack from someone to his left and kicked the guy hard in the stomach, sending him flying backwards.

Beside him, Magnus could see Alec fighting with his seraph blade against a demon. This huge fight on the beach had been nothing but brutal, and Magnus was resorting to fist fighting to preserve whatever magic he had left in the case of an emergency.

Him and Alec hadn’t even spoken since the night of Max’s procedure, after Magnus walked away from Alec and almost broke down on the elevator ride up. As soon as Magnus had heard about the attack on the beach, he ran as fast has he could. The thought of Alec in danger was almost too much to bear, and he ended up getting there in the knick of time, managing to kill a giant demon dragon with Alec and Izzy’s help before the Circle members arrived.

Now it was pouring rain, cracks of thunder rippling through the air. Lightning illuminated the battle scene, as well as various colors of warlock magic. In the midst of the fight, Magnus found himself staying by Alec’s side, and he had a feeling that Alec didn’t really want to leave his.

“Magnus!”

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Chat’s Heart Gets Stung!

Hey @edendaphne  so I did the thing…

Here is the artwork of Eden’s that inspired this.

I have no idea what I just created…


Marinette had a strange fear revolving around bugs, particularly scorpions (bug family or not Marinette considered them a bug and she was absolutely terrified of them). Needless to say Marinette was more than a little on edge when a guest speaker came to her class with containers and containers of bugs, including scorpions. While most girls were squealing over the various spiders and tarantulas Marinette eyed the scorpion’s cage warily. She wiped sweaty palms against her jeans and swallowed hard. Her heart drummed in her chest and her breathing felt much too shallow.

“Girl chill out it’s in a cage!” Alya shook her head.

“It could still get out!” Marinette pointed out.

“We’re almost legal adults and you’re telling me you still have a phobia of scorpions?” Alya shook her head incredulously.

“You’re still afraid of swing sets!” Marinette shot back.

“Hey those things are a deathtrap!!!” Alya snapped. Marinette raised an eyebrow at Alya’s outburst. Alya took a deep calming breath. “Okay you’re right but don’t you think it’s about time we faced our fears? Maybe today is the day we leave these silly phobias behind…” Alya urged Marinette towards the table of critters. Marinette’s chest tightened. She shook her head violently, flipping around in Alya’s arms and looking up at her pleadingly.

“Today is not that day!” Marinette pushed Alya away from the table, a lump already forming in Marinette’s throat. Alya sighed in resignation, patting her friend comfortingly on the back. Adrien noticed the girl in distress and began to move away from the table to see what was wrong. All the while Lila sat by and watched. She sent a loathsome look towards Marinette. Lila looked towards the table, smiling cruelly as she discreetly knocked one of the containers to the ground releasing its contents unknowingly into the classroom.

“Hey Marinette is everything okay?” Adrien asked. He knit his brows together as he looked on the frightened girl. Marinette squeaked, nearly jumping into the air at the sound of his voice. She turned to him pulling at one of her pigtails as she did so, cheeks pink.

“I’m fine! I just I- um- I- uh- bugs um they uh- the scorpions they- I uh-“ Marinette fumbled for words running her fingers nervously through one of her pigtails. A smile pulled at the edges of Adrien’s lips.

“Not a fan of scorpions?” Marinette nodded, chewing on her bottom lip. “Want to know something? I’m afraid of spiders,” Adrien admitted.

“Y-you are?!” Marinette’s eyebrows shot up into her bangs.

“Yeah, they really freak me out.” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“They do kill 6.6 people every year!” Marinette blurted. Adrien chuckled.

“So they kill six people and a half person?” Adrien smirked tilting his head to the side.

“Well technically it would by 60% of a person,” Marinette babbled, face growing red. She couldn’t believe she was saying this. To her relief Adrien laughed.

“Somehow I think we are getting this statistic wrong,” Adrien said.

“We probably-“ before Marinette could finish the thought Lila let out a sharp scream. Everyone turned towards her in alarm. Her eyes were blown wide as she pointed a shaky hand towards Marinette.

“Scorpion!!” she shouted. Marinette’s heart beat sped out of control. Her mouth went dry as her head slowly shifted down to see a small black scorpion resting on her foot. Marinette screamed as panic swept over her. Her body jerked backwards in an attempt to shake the scorpion from her. She stumbled backwards throat raw from the inhumanly high pitched noise emanating from her. She fell back onto the ground scorpion landing on her stomach. Her chest felt tight her breathing shallow and erratic. Perspiration lined her forehead. She could hear her pulse pounding haphazardly in her ears.

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Stargazing II pt. 1

Jimin x reader

genre: angst!, fluff, smut, boyfriend!jimin

word count: 15.5k


He was your first love, your soulmate who shaped your heart, covered it with scars no one was able to erase..except for the one causing the indentations deforming the once beautiful muscle that still longed for the part that was torn out on a day in late autumn.

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Can We Still Be Alone? (NSFW 18+)

A/N: This was inspired by two songs Windswept by Crywolf and Daning On My Own By Robyn (the Hunter Plake and Jack Cassidy version). When I heard them the ideas just started flowing. This is very different from anything I have written. I had @minhosmeanhoe on my mind as I wrote this. Not for any particular reason, she’s just my actual soulmate so I’m dedicating this to her. I really hope you guys like this (: Also, I’m pretty sure I proofread this! (Pretty sure)

Paring: StilesxReader

Warnings: Smut 

Word Count: 4988


Originally posted by fragileheartxxx

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Favorite Sound

Ok, so, I literally swung it with this one, but it was fun to write! And it made my frien laugh, so I’m guessing it’s worth a shot! 

This is based on this pic, made by @vp-dot-png for their klance writing contest

Nothing much to say, except hope you like it! 

Disclaimer: Voltron doesn’t belong to me and neither does the art. 


The water was yellow.

“I’m calling it, that’s actual pee.” Lance deadpans and his eyes widen in surprise when the person next to him erupts in laughter.

Keith leans forward, eyes tightly closed as giggles and snorts leave his mouth, barely allowing him to catch his breath. The Red Paladin holds his stomach in a weak attempt to control himself, but it’s no use, because more giggles shake him entirely and he’s barely fast enough to catch the jacket over his shoulder from falling to the ground.

“Oh, oh, man, dude,” Keith chokes out, slapping Lance’s shoulder playfully, “You can not just say things like that about an alien’s fountain.”

Lance snickers, nudging Keith with his shoulder. “Oh, come on, lighten up, Mullet. The planet is saved and for once, Allura allowed us to explore the city! Aren’t you glad you decided to stick with me instead of Hunk and Pidge’s robotic garden? Or Shiro and Allura’s meeting with the Queen?”

“Or Coran’s storytelling with a bunch of old guys.” Keith adds with a smirk, making Lance to shake his head.

“Exactly, so, I’m your saviour.”

“Psh, sure, okay,” Keith shakes his head in amusement, pushing his head back once again with a small bobby pin, “Just make sure that none of the locals are near whenever you plan to drop another judgemental comment about their water color.”

Lance gasps in mocking offense, hand pressed against his chest. “How dare you, Keith? I gave you my jacket.”

Keith grins and pulls Lance’s jacket tighter around him. “Real comfy, no wonder you are always using it.”

“You are taking advantage of how much of a gentleman I am, which rude.” Lance whines, puffing his cheeks in fake annoyance, making Keith to roll his eyes playfully.

“Whatever you say, Sir Lancelot, Knight of the Gentle Acts.”

Lance would take the bait, he really would, but he can’t, not when Keith’s eyes shine with playfulness and mischievousness, arching an daring eyebrow at him. Not when Keith’s cheeks are colored in a soft pink color and his hair is pushed back, allowing Lance to see his dark blue eyes clearly.

There’s something hypnotizing about Keith under the three moons of the planet they are currently on. Maybe is the fact that Keith’s wearing his jacket? Nah, can’t be, even though it looks like it was made for him and it makes Lance’s heart flutter.

Maybe it was the trees? The big tall trees filled with small flowers that resemble to the roses back on Earth, except these ones were covered in a pale red color mixed with green.

Lance doesn’t know, and it’s not like he wants to figure it out. He’s just glad that whatever is there around them stays, because it’s been so long since he has seen Keith so carefree, so at ease.

He doesn’t want it to end.

“Hey, Lance?” Keith’s calling shakes him out of this thoughts and then Lance’s looking straight into his eyes, his heart doing a sharp flip at the fondness they hold. “Honestly, thank you for…well, this. I’m having a great time.”

Lance swallows and nods, mouth suddenly dry.

“No problem, man,” he breathes out, a small smile making its way to his face. Keith mirrors his smile before his eyes go back to the fountain in front of them, scanning every corner of it in awe, walking around it calmly, leaving Lance behind in the spot.

Okay, McClain,’ Lance starts, shifting on his feet restlessly, ‘This is your chance, the time has come. Just like you saw in that romantic movie with Leah: just lean forward, and link your hand with his slowly and gently. Let the angels sing their chorus behind, you do the rest.’

Taking a deep breath, the brunet closes his eyes and steadies his own breathing. It’s now or never, the setting is perfect for a confession and the night is in his favour. He can do this. He has to do this.

Lance nods to himself and then takes a step forward.

“Where are you going?”

Lance squeaks and loses his footing as soon as the voice behind him speaks, their warm breath tickling Lance’s ear. The brunet is only able to hear Keith’s shout of his name before he’s falling back and water is dripping from the top of his head.

Lance blinks in surprise, confusion taking over his features as he wonders how the heck Keith circled the entire fountain in a few ticks before he looks up at meets Keith’s wide eyes.

One, two, maybe three ticks later and the best sound in the universe makes itself present.

“Oh, oh my god, dude, you just fell on a fountain full of pee,” Keith cackles, hand hovering over his mouth in a weak attempt to hide his laughter but his entire body goes against him and he can’t even hold himself straight, “Lance, oh my god, why.”

Why, Keith asks.

Because of that smile, Lance answers in his mind, eyes soft and gentle as he stares at the figure of Keith shaking with laughter.

Lance is totally fine to get soaked with alien pee if it means he gets to hear Keith’s carefree happiness.

He’s so entranced with Keith’s happy display that he doesn’t notice when Keith stops abruptly and stares at him in confusion.

“Lance,” he calls, confusion turning into amusement, eyes narrowed in suspicion, “Is there something you might wanna tell me?”

Lance blinks, looking bemused at the question and Keith shakes his head in disbelief.

“So, turns out it wasn’t actual pee.” He says amusedly, hand pressed against his cheek as he waits for Lance to make the connection.

Lance frowns and looks down to see the water.

Pink.

Ok, so, pink pee.

“Why is the pee pink now?” Lance mumbles quietly but it’s loud enough for Keith to hear, making him to snort.

“Because it’s not pee, you idiot,” Keith might have say that as an insult, but his voice was teasing and kind, “It’s an ancient water that allows you to see the reflection of your own feelings.”

Keith points towards a small plate on the right side of the fountain, rusty but its clear golden letters narrating a small legend about the fountain and its purposes.

Lance can feel his own cheeks getting warmer and then he notices Keith sitting on the edge of the fountain, leaning slightly down towards Lance.

“So…” Keith trails off, biting his lower lip nervously as he stares down at Lance.

Lance opens his mouth and closes it repeatedly, words failing him right when he needs them, but then he sighs, frustrated with himself.

He looks around him, searching for a way to communicate better, before he snaps his fingers and cups his hands, dipping them in the water before holding them up towards Keith.

Keith blinks at the cupped pink water held by Lance’s hands.

“I like you.” Lance whispers softly, offering a small shy smile.

He watches as Keith’s face lights up and suddenly, Lance’s fears fade away as soon as Keith’s hands appear just below his own.

Lance stares in awe as the once pink water turn into a deep shade of red as soon as Keith’s hand touches his own.

Keith knows there is no point of voicing his thoughts, but he still does, because Lance was brave enough to do it, and he owes him the same treatment.

“I like you too,” he whispers softly, smiling dopily at the brunet, who smiles back at him with equal motion.

All Too Well | Pt. 5

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Epilogue

Summary: You and Yoongi shared a loving relationship with one another until you both agreed to end things and pursue your separate careers. But two years later, Yoongi is a member of the ever growing Bangtan Boys, and you are a new makeup artist for their upcoming tour.
Pairing: Yoongi | Reader
Genre: Fluff/Angst/Smut; Idol & Makeup Artist AU
Word Count: 5,434

.

You wish that your natural inclination toward Yoongi’s gestures, thoughts, and emotions was something you could flick off like a light switch. You wish you could turn off certain memories and knowledge, how you could tell and understand so readily about what Yoongi was thinking about.

The boy use to always be a stellar liar, able to cover up his emotions well in the form of a defense mechanism, but over the time you got to know him and date him and love him, you’ve always been unbelievably good at reading him. You understood better than most about how the air around him hung and what kind of emotions were always just brimming underneath the surface.

But you hate having that kind of knowledge now. You hate knowing that even after all this time, all this distance, after that heartbreak, Yoongi still cares. He cares so, so much, that desire swimming underneath the surface, he cares so much that the thought of you running off with Hoseok is enough to make his blood boil.

You never wished you could unlearn something more. You wish you could forget the way he looked at you that evening in Tokyo, telling you he didn’t care about you and he didn’t care about you and Hoseok when it was so glaringly obvious that he just cared too much.

That’s probably where things started to change between the two of you.

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Queen in the North {Pt. 4}

Originally posted by snows-os

Requested: By some very lovely people, and myself, an actual piece of human garbage

Pairings: Robb Stark x Reader

Previously: {Part 1} {Part 2} {Part 3}

Summary: Y/N was sent to live with The Stark family at a young age, and ever since then, she seemed to fit perfectly, maybe even more than she had ever noticed.

Warnings: Injured!Robb

Word Count: 1,858

A/N: Long time, no see. I don’t know how I let this sit on the backburner for so long, as it is certainly one of my favorite things to write. Now that Robb is absent from my Game of Thrones viewing, I have been coping with this, so I hope that you guys enjoy! Feedback is appreciated, as always!

Somehow, Robb had managed to disappear. You’d made plans yesterday to meet in the library before going out for a ride. Although you didn’t accompany them on hunts anymore, you did love racing through the woods with Robb and Grey Wind. Ever since Ned had brought the direwolves back for the children, you had wanted one of your own.

He had brought them back when they were less like wolves and behaved more like puppies, really. You had smiled and laughed along with your family, happy that such a small creature had brought them such joy. But, try as you might, you couldn’t hide your want from Robb.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked, tugging lightly on a bit of rope that you had procured for Grey Wind to play with.

“I was just thinking that I would very much like a dog.” You sighed, stroking your hand over Grey Wind’s fur.

“How many times are we going to have this argument?”

“I have absolutely no idea what you are talking about.” You laughed, burying your face into Grey Wind’s side.

You knew exactly what he was talking about. 

When you were younger, you had come to Winterfell convinced that their house sigil was a dog. Robb had taken immediate offense, but to his credit, he bit his tongue for as long as possible. He hid his anger for a long time, but after a few days, he felt that he was going to combust if he didn’t correct you. He danced around the subject for days, before gently sitting you down in the library with the big book of house sigils.

At the tender age of four, you had mistakenly read “Wolf” as “Oelf” and Robb had never let you live it down. He brought it up often enough that you knew that one little mistake as a child was not going away anytime soon.

“Oh, Arya!” you called, spotting her hurriedly making her way around the corner. When she didn’t stop, you quickened your pace, easily catching up with her. “Arya, have you seen Robb?”

Arya took your hand, and resumed her earlier pace, explaining between her shallow breaths. “I have been looking for you all morning!” She paused for a moment, meeting your eyes before casting her glance once again to her shoes, tapping quickly on the stone. “Robb is in the infirmary.”

“I was just in the library, wait- what do you mean that Robb is in the infirmary?” You felt your heart beat quickening in your chest. It was your job to get hurt, and it was his job to baby you until you got better, and then do it all over again.

“I mean that Robb was trying to help Bran with his bow work and something went wrong.” Arya took your hand and tried to lead you to the infirmary again, but you were rooted on the spot. Your mind was a blur, you could barely think straight. “Robb is hurt. Robb is hurt. Robb is hurt” ran through your mind, a rather uncomforting mantra that was only making matters worse. 

“Y/N, he’s asking for you,” Arya’s voice was calm, somehow drawing you back to the situation at hand. Robb was hurt, and he was asking for you. Arya took a tentative step toward the infirmary, wanting to make sure that you were with her. You met her eyes, nodded your head, and tried to get yourself together before you got to the Robb.

Arya threw open the door to the infirmary, and you felt yourself holding back a gasp. Arya had insisted that he was barely even hurt, that it practically a scrape, but Robb looked as if he was close to death.

“This is why it does you good to get hurt every once and awhile.” You took a seat on the bed by his side, twining your pinky with his. It was a simple act, something that the two of you had done since you were children, who didn’t want to be made fun of for holding hands. Now, it was something that felt like second nature, even if people smirked when they saw it. He gave you a look, one that you knew meant explain yourself before I wallop you over the head. “Well, Mr. Perfect never gets hurt and now a knick in the side makes you think that you are dying.”

You held your breath, waiting for a response. Jokes in times of crisis could go either way. Robb’s laughter filled the room, and you felt a weight lift off of your shoulders. It definitely wasn’t as serious as you thought that it was if he was willing to laugh at it.

You caught a glimpse of Abigayle over Robb’s head, rolling a bandage and chuckling to herself. At least she was taking your humor in stride. More than a few people had reprimanded you for your particularly unladylike jokes in times of trouble. But they always made your family laugh, and making them laugh was more important to you than being ladylike anyday.

“But you are okay?” You asked in a hushed voice. As much as it hurt you to admit it, he had scared you.

Robb tried to hold back a reaction, but despite himself his mouth quirked to the side in the annoying almost smile that he had developed when the two of you were younger. But you had been though enough with him to notice when he was holding something back.

You hadn’t missed the look that the nurse maid had given the two of you before pointedly laying down her linens and slipping out of the door, taking Arya with her. Robb tried to sit up, holding back a grimace that if you didn’t know him any better, you wouldn’t have been able to notice.

You reached forward to grab him, to help him sit up. But, before you could, his hands came to cradle your face, bringing your forehead to rest against his. If it was any other time, you would have told him to shove off, but after all of the excitement of the last few days, you needed a moment.

A moment to be alone with him, to just breathe, and accept that everything was going to be okay.

“I’m sorry that I worried you.” Robb said, his voice quiet and timid, afraid to break the silence that had taken over the room.

“You should be, it’s my job to worry you.” You said, attempting to muster a laugh. It didn’t sound like a joke, though. Your voice was shaking just the slightest bit, trying to hide the emotion behind it.

“How could I forget? It is your job to fall off of a horse and then immediately walk directly into a wall. The same wall that has been in the same spot for hundreds of years, might I add.” He laughed, a real laugh this time. A laugh that made him throw his head back and made his stomach hurt just a bit, because he really, truly meant it. And after a few moments, you couldn’t help but join him.

“Well, I don’t want to interupt, but I’ve heard that Bran has maimed my eldest.” Catelyn said, letting herself in. You were about to stand, in order to let her have your place at Robb’s side, but she lazily motioned for you to sit down, taking a spot by the fire instead.

“It was really nothing, mother.” Robb said, looping his pinky with yours again. “Bran’s bow work obviously needs a bit more work, but I am going to be good as new.”

You held in a chuckle. Bran needing more bow work was the biggest understatement that you had heard in your life. He would get there eventually, but you knew that this wouldn’t be the last time that someone ended up in the infirmary before he learned to shoot a target. Maybe Arya could help him. She was wonderful with a bow, and even though she was less patient than the boys. Then again, that might be what Bran needed if he was ever going to hit a target. You made a mental note before returning your focus to the situation at hand.

“I’m sure that you will be, after all, it seems that you have an excellent nursemaid with you.” You didn’t miss her glancing down at your hands resting on the bed. You stuck your tongue out at her.

She didn’t reprimand you, knowing that it would only encourage you further.

“Abigayle is wonderful.” you said, eyes shifting to the door that the gray-haired woman had left through a few minutes ago.

Catelyn’s eyebrows arched the slightest bit, and Robb was chuckling to himself.

“I have a feeling that my mother wasn’t talking about Abigayle.” His pinky tightened around yours, not too tightly, but enough to make you understand what he was trying to say.

They were talking about you.

“Well, I haven’t done anything.” You insisted, unsure what they were trying to say.

“We both know that Arya is going to have to drag you out of this room before you leave his side.” Catelyn laughed, standing up from her chair. “Which is why I know that I can take my leave to help Sansa and the girls with their needlepoint.” Catelyn placed a kiss on the top of Robb’s head, and then yours. “I will see you later, my loves. She said, pausing for just a moment in the doorway, before making her way out of the room.

“I don’t see what the fuss is about.” You said, untangling your pinky from his before moving to get a strip of cloth to change Robb’s bandages. Abigayle had given him fresh ones a few hours ago, but with all of the moving around he was sure to need new ones. “I help everyone when they are hurt.”

The look on Robb’s face said that he wanted to say more, and you felt a wave of relief when it seemed that he was going to hold his tongue, for now at least.

You motioned for him to take off his shirt, allowing you a better look at the wound on his side. It was a shallow wound, but it ran the length of his ribcage, jagged and rough against his pale skin. Thankfully, it looked as if it would heal in a few days. Unfortunately, you were left to coddle Robb like a child until he was good as new.

He had a tendency to be clingy when he was hurt. You didn’t honestly know if it was because it truly made him feel better, or if he liked having an excuse to be around you, even more often than usual. Your head said that it was the first option, but it was getting harder as of late to ignore what your heart was saying.

Refocusing on the task at hand, you found that you had been right, and the bandages were nearly soaked through. You made quick work of them, not allowing your fingers to linger any more than was absolutely necessary.

You can read Part Five here!