Title: just like that (he was never a teenager)
Major Character Death
Summary: Ianto gets high. What happens next is his own fault.
This is part of the series Black Sheep that @ex0rin and I are writing for @the-ravening for her birthday. Happy birthday again, you're still the best!
Title: One for the Dame
Pairing: Bucky Barnes/Helmut Zemo, Winterbaron
Rating: Explicit, NSFW
Tags: Glory hole, Deepthroating, Implied use of Bitcoin
Zemo disappears while they're at Sharon’s club and Bucky goes looking for him, but finds something else instead.
Superficially, this stall doesn’t look any different to any others. The white porcelain of the toilet, the smell of whatever pine scented bleach they use to clean it with and the anonymous raw concrete look of the walls. However, on the wall between this stall and the one furthest from the door, there is a hole.
Read it on Ao3
who’d have thought that love could be so caffeinated
pairing | vanessa/usnavi
rating | g
chapters | 1/1
word count | 583
features | pregnancy, a tiny human, coffee, and adorable lovebirds
“Hey! You know what? You won’t need to wait as long por nuestra muñeca as you did for me to get my ass in gear about us!”
“God!” She shudders. “Can you imagine? I’d be as huge as your dad’s beachfront!”
read | H E R E
General Audience, Skittles, Mischief Night
Stiles had motives of petty revenge. Scott just wants to cause some mischief along with his best friend.
Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31885135
fanfic alert: I wrote Mick Schumacher 5 +1 times fic for exchange
summary: There are a lot of qualities to love about Mick. He is very used to hearing about them but at the same time he wonders if anyone is ever going to love all of him.
Or 5 times Mick heard the words “I love…” + 1 time the word after it was ‘you’ and nothing else
Title: The Ice-Cream Truck Experience Square: Ice-Cream Ship: Steve/Bucky Rating: General Major Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship, Ice-Cream Summary: Sam is astounded when Steve and Bucky say that they've never heard of an ice-cream truck, so he takes them out to get them their first ever ice-cream from an ice-cream truck. Word Count: 650 AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31881208
my next fic written for @stb-bingo :)
“Was there aliens?” Nile asked.
“What?” Andy eyed her over the lip of her pint across the bar table.
“Aliens with the pyramids? Atlantis flying aircraft?” Nile wondered. “Medical procedures before, I dunno, the 18th Century.”
“There’s been medical procedure before—”
Joe snorted into his pint of bitter.
“You know what I mean.” Nile sulked.
“Trepanning for one,” Andy continued.
“Andy,” Nile whined. “Please. Aliens?”
“Nah.” Andy set her pint down. “But Atlantis was real. And it was a lot more ‘advanced’ than you think. Not flying space ships. But culture, arts, science, yes. If the fiery mountain hadn’t taken them out we’d probably be on the moon or further. Their batteries were outstanding. Vibrated weirdly, though.”
Nile glanced at Joe, checking.
“Before my time.” Joe shrugged. “But…hmmm.”
Nicky giggle-snorted at Joe’s side.
“What?” Nile narrowed her eyes.
Andy smirked, cat-like.
“Oh, you’re such a supreme troll!” Nile moaned. “Atlanteans did not invent vibrators.”
Family is Everything
My foster dad Din story has updated. Here's a little art to go with it 😀. Enjoy!
a collection of short ficlets about my two favorite idiots, originally posted to tumblr
- - -
ch. 1: Sometimes when they’re lying together in bed, Mickey’s fingers trace over the scars on Ian’s palms, his touch feather-light.
ch. 2: “We’re not keeping it.”
ch. 3: The voice that said his name was low, and rounded. One syllable, bleeding warmth, and all that Mickey needed to blink himself back into the present.
ch. 4: It’s raining. Ian’s never felt more at peace, maybe, in his whole entire life.
hi! I’ve been told it would be a good idea to put my silly little ficlet/drabble things all together on ao3 to keep them safe and organized, so in case anyone wants it, the link to that is here 😌
(original f/f, aspiring evil sorceress/himbo knight pledged to her service, fluff and humor, explicit)
Sorceresses were supposed to be evil.
At least, that’s what they taught at the Academy. Hexes, curses, summoning calamities, binding ancient gods, raising dark armies … Belladonna had mastered them all, had been at the top of her class.
And yet … it was not five years from when she had graduated and Belladonna had to admit to herself that she might be a failure after all.
“Elysabeth?” Belladonna asked, folding her hands over her knee, watching the flickering campfire before her with grave intent. She should be the merciless tyrant of her own country by now, and yet here she was … sleeping in the wilderness. Like a common peasant.
“Yes, my Lady?” Ser Elysabeth the Gold, formerly of the Holy See, recently turned Dark Knight under Belladonna's employ, looked up from her whetstone.
“This is all your fault,” Belladonna shot Elysabeth a scowl. “I’m sure of it.” To emphasize her point, Belladonna flicked her fingers at the fire, making it spark ominously.
“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, my Lady,” Elysabeth did not seem the least intimidated, smiling at Belladonna before turning back to sharpening her sword. Belladonna hated her sometimes. Hated her shining chestnut hair and broad, strong shoulders. Hated her easy manner and the sweetness of her smile. Hated most doubly, most trebly, the smatter of golden freckles across the bridge of her slightly crooked nose.
“It’s all gone wrong, ever since I saved your life,” Belladonna scowled deeper.
(She hadn’t even meant to do it. She had wanted to make a pet of the dragon, really, but it had proven so ill-mannered that it had the verve to snap at her in the middle of her incantation and … well. A pet without a head just wasn't as fun.
She had been contemplating whether to dust off her old texts on necromancy when a sword popped through from the inside of the dead dragon’s belly, and a very bloody, very grateful young knight had sawed her way out. Belladonna could have let her die, but ... it was a shame when she was so pretty ... ).
“It is a day I shall never forget, my Lady,” Elysabeth said softly, turning to Belladonna. “I was prepared to meet the Holy that day, but instead They found fit to transmute my life to thee.”
Belladonna felt her face heat at the fondness in Elysabeth’s smile, her heart beating as if she had swallowed a double dose of deathroot. She had felt the same when Elysabeth had first kneeled at her feet, pledging her sword for Belladonna with stirring, heartfelt devotion … only grimacing a little bit at the bits of dragon sloughing off of Elysabeth’s armor.
Belladonna had decided rather impulsively to take Elysabeth on as her Dark Knight. After all, there was no greater evil than the corruption of a holy paladin, and who could be holier than Elysabeth, who smiled like the sun and always spoke as if she were reciting epic poetry. She was so good that Belladonna thought it would be a great coup to tarnish her armor for Belladonna’s wicked gains.
Instead … quite the opposite had happened.
“Stay on topic, Elysabeth,” Belladonna said heatedly. “I am trying to reprimand you.”
Elysabeth gave Belladonna a serious nod, straightening in her seat. “Understood, my Lady.”
She was probably making fun, but Belladonna could never really pin her to it. “Last month: what did I travel to Obbenleich to do?”
“My Lady wished to obtain the Dark Ruby from the Living Crypts underneath the city in order to harness its mind-altering powers.”
“And what did we do instead?” Belladonna asked archly.
“Thwarted a ring of bride-kidnappers who were making use of the crypt tunnels,” Elysabeth answered dutifully.
“And did I get the Ruby?”
Elysabeth looked mournful. “Alas, the final battle stirred loose the support of the entrance tunnel, and the Ruby is lost evermore in the rubble.”
"And the month before that?"
Elysabeth hesitated for a moment, so Belladonna filled in for her impatiently.
"With the werewolves of Marpannzen Forest?"
"We unionized them!" Elysabeth said brightly.
"We were supposed to enthrall them," Belladonna snapped.
"Well you cannot expect them to work without fair wages," Elysabeth replied. "And holy days for rest as is their right."
Belladonna huffed shortly. “And when we travelled to the Capitol to assassinate Duke Geravassius of Ierth?”
“Well,” Elysabeth said with a smile. “You cannot blame me for that, my Lady.”
She couldn’t, and that was what made Belladonna angriest of all. Somehow, while undercover at the Royal Masquerade, Belladonna had inadvertently overheard a plot to poison the King. She hadn’t sought to thwart it because she held any particular loyalty to the man, but for the sheer temerity of an interloper daring to brew a royal assassination plot without her involvement.
Unfortunately, no good deed went unpunished, and unveiling the dastardly conspiracy had also revealed her own dubious work, so she and Elysabeth were forced to flee for their lives.
Leading to their current circumstances.
“Fine,” Belladonna sighed. “Even if you may lay the events of our previous misadventure at the feet of my bruised pride, you cannot deny that I have not succeeded in a single scheme ever since you joined my employ.”
Elysabeth stilled in her work. Her expression when she looked at Belladonna was even. Unreadable. “Does my Lady find my service lacking? Do you wish … to send me away?”
Belladonna opened her mouth, then hesitated. She should, shouldn’t she? Elysabeth’s bloody code of honor made her more a liability than an asset, and … and Belladonna could do well enough without her. Had been doing well, in fact, on her own before Elysabeth came along with her chivalric poetry and distractingly nice arms.
Even if the nights would be a lot quieter, and a lot colder, without her around.
Belladonna drew in a quick breath as a sudden thought occurred to her. “This is what you want!”
Elysabeth looked confused (she would), inclining her head. “My Lady?”
Belladonna stood abruptly and drew herself up to her full height, which was, admittedly, not much taller than Elysabeth’s sitting figure. “I know exactly what you’re up to,” she said accusingly, storming forward until she was leaning over Elysabeth’s lap, nearly nose-to-nose with the knight, so incensed with her sudden realization that she had little care of the sword between them.
Elysabeth’s eyes slid away, a flush rising in her cheeks, which Belladonna took to be proof of her guilt.
“You’ve been doing a poor job on purpose! You want me to release you from your word,” Belladonna hissed, and Elyzabeth’s gaze snapped to hers with a surprised look. As if Belladonna would fall for that.
“I …” Elyzabeth cleared her throat, glancing down. “Nay, my Lady. When I pledged myself to thee, I did forsake my previous vows in their entirety.”
“Hm,” Belladonna’s lips twisted, and she leaned back, reading the beat of relief in Elyzabeth’s face. “Tell me of your previous vows, and we shall see if you have been secretly upholding them all this time.”
Elyzabeth made a considering noise, carefully putting her sword to the side and sitting with her elbows resting on her parted knees. “Well,” she said thoughtfully. “The vows of the Holy See are quite standard, I suppose. Prudence, temperance, diligence, valor …”
Belladonna frowned. She did not wish Elyzabeth to be slothful or spendthrift or glut herself with drink. That would be at cross-purposes with her usefulness, certainly.
“And, of course,” Elyzabeth said easily. “Chastity.”
“Chastity?” Belladonna asked archly.
“Oh yes,” Elyzabeth’s tone and expression were grave. “The Holy See tolerates none to corrupt their weapons of mercy.”
Corrupt, huh … Belladonna put a knuckle to her chin, her mind awhirl. “So you’ve never …”
Elyzabeth’s gaze was steady. “I am chaste by every definition of my order.”
The admission pleased Belladonna more than she cared to investigate. Sorceresses were meant to be seductive, and she had no problem plying her wiles when it was necessary. She had a nice enough body, one she was proud of, and flattered well with her dress. Barring her damnably short height, she was full in the chest and graceful in the hips. And with her sleek manner, it would be a surprise to any who knew her that the truth was …
Belladonna had never been bedded.
Quite simply, she had never found anyone up to her standards, and did not feel the need to capitulate. And perhaps, there was a touch of insecurity about her inexperience in this area.
But Elysabeth was likewise chaste. She would not be able to tell that Belladonna had no idea what she was doing after the point of heated flirtation.
Plus, she would be able to achieve her objective to corrupt her dear knight. She wouldn’t have to send her away.
It was a machination of the highest order ... if, of course, Elysabeth wished to comply.
Belladonna bent forward, allowing her breasts to press against the gaping front of her dress, noting the manner in which Elysabeth’s eyes flicked to her cleavage. “Ser Elysabeth,” she said softly, reaching a hand forward to trace the line of Elysabeth’s jaw with her finger, pinching her sharp chin between her thumb and forefinger. “Do you wish to prove your loyalty to me?”
“Yes, my Lady,” Elysabeth said, her voice growing low. “Anything you wish.”
Belladonna drew in a sharp breath as she felt Elysabeth place a warm palm against her hip, drawing her forward with excruciating slowness. Shuddering, Belladonna sifted her fingers through Elysabeth’s short, wavy hair, allowing herself to be pulled onto Elysabeth’s lap, her dress drawing over her knees as she parted her legs to straddle Elysabeth’s solid waist.
It shouldn’t have turned Belladonna’s knees to water, how easily Elysabeth could support her weight.
“May I kiss you, my Lady?” Elysabeth whispered, her mouth so close that Belladonna could feel her warm breath her on her lips.
“Yes,” Belladonna breathed, gratified that she was still in command, even as her heart beat so hard in her chest that she felt it might escape the cage of her ribs entirely.
Elysabeth’s lips were soft, much softer than Belladonna would have expected of a rough knight. Even though their kisses were light and chaste, Belladonna found herself shivering, moaning against Elysabeth’s mouth as she felt strong arms tighten around her middle.
“My Lady,” Elysabeth whispered, pulling away to press kisses against the side of Belladonna’s neck, trace the shell of her ear.
Belladonna shivered, her fingers digging in to the meat of Elysabeth’s shoulder. Fortunate that the knight had removed her armor earlier in the night, and was now clad only in a thin tunic and worn trousers. Elysabeth’s fingers itched to tear away even those flimsy barriers, gasping as Elysabeth slid one hand up, tracing the curve of Belladonna’s breast over the material of her dress with a finger.
“You’re beautiful,” Elysabeth’s voice was a low, warm burr which made Belladonna grow warm between her thighs.
“I know,” Belladonna said impatiently, hiding her fluster under a facade of impatience. Was Elysabeth truly chaste? She didn’t touch like it. Even now, when she was brushing the pad of her thumb against the curve of Belladonna's right breast, sending shivers of awareness through her body.
Belladonna squirmed when she felt Elysabeth’s free hand slide up the slit in her dress, rubbing the sensitive skin underneath. Elysabeth's fingers were slender, strong and calloused, leaving trails of heat wherever they caressed. Belladonna had a distant thought that she should be taking more charge of the situation, but then Elysabeth pinched her stiff nipple through the material of her dress and all thoughts left her head entirely.
"Oh!" Belladona gasped as she felt Elysabeth's hand steal under the hem of her dress, parting Belladonna's damp thighs as she distracted Belladonna by sucking at the curve of her neck.
"I've been wanting to do this ever since I pulled myself from the beast that nearly digested me to collapse at your feet," Elysabeth confessed hotly, and Belladonna's thighs shook as she felt fingers pet at the seam of her smalls, which were already molded to her cunt from wet. "My Lady," Elysabeth swallowed Belladonna's cry with her mouth, then sighed again as she began rubbing Belladonna's clit through the silk of her drawers. "Oh my Lady."
"Yes," Belladonna clawed Elysabeth's shoulders as she arched into the touch, the clever fingers which were rubbing her so well, the hot mouth on her bare breast, the pressure at the bottom of her stomach which was throbbing and needy. "Yes please."
After her second peak on Elysabeth’s fingers, Belladonna realized that she had been duped.
“You are not chaste!” Belladonna brought her fist down on Elysabeth’s shoulder. She was splayed across Elysabeth's bedroll, her dark hair shining in the firelight, naked as the day she was born while Elysabeth had still yet to remove a single stitch. “You have … you must have lain with other women.”
Elysabeth flicked a glance up from where she had been pressing kisses to Belladonna’s belly. “I have, my Lady.”
“Then why did you lie to me?”
“I am chaste by every definition of the Holy See,” Elysabeth repeated, smiling serenely as she leaned back to pull her tunic over her head.
Belladonna’s mouth went dry as Elsabeth began unbuckling her breast bindings.
“Well,” she said weakly. “If you were able to fool me with your wiles, perhaps your path to Everlasting Darkness is close at hand.”
“Yes, my Lady,” Elysabeth murmured, and smiled as she bent down to kiss Belladonna again.
Title: Red and Blue (And Purple)
No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3/3 (Complete!)
Relationships: John Hart & Mohisha Varma, John Hart/Toshiko Sato/Mohisha Varma
Summary: “It’s a shame I’m not the sort of time travelling do-gooder that takes random humans along with him. Because that could have formed the basis for a whole series of further adventures.”
AU where John Hart takes Mohisha Varma with him for a whole series of further adventures.
(Spoilers for The Sins of Captain John audio!)
General Audiences, Sceo, Street Racing AU
Scott is an 'official' street racer, Theo is new to street racing.
Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31863691