#BUT STORM AND A SPRING ISN'T-

[sonartheyapp3r]

why is Welcome To Tally Hall banned on my school computer 💔

[deadcaptainentertainment]

Being nice to rude, overly dramatic, whiny customers trying to throw their weight around to get what they want while actually holding so much anger and hatred in one's heart is an art form only customer facing employees will truly understand

[ridingthatd]

₊˚‧₊˚. SUKUNAS DESIRES

₊˚‧₊˚. sukunaxfem!reader, nsfw, heavy smut, sukunas little whore, sukuna being nasty, its really nasty

who thought you'll be stuck, in a snow storm, no where to go other then a obendent cabin that can barely keep you warm, freezing to death with your master- the master you despise the most, the one who you can't even look at without have an urge to punch the shit out of him, it's not like he was annoying or talkative-

it's just he was bossy- bossy without even trying to be, for some reason everyone seem to follow what he says without a second thought. at the same time you can't blame them after all he's the one and only- the king of curses, the man who lived for hundred, and thousands of years. it annoys you that no one can do anything to stop him or even as much as think about stopping him because this is how much fear he holds against everyone, he took over your little village, shredded everyone into pieces just because. shredded your soon to be husband just because.

yet here you are sitting on the cold wooden floor, bones shaking, just because your stupid ass decided to go out look for a special kind of plant- so you can make money, since you're barely surviving with the amount you have right now, but that isn't what bothers you- what bothers you is sukuna who decided to follow you just because.

who decided to lead you into a cabin since he can sense a storm coming just because. you take a glance at the man who's sitting at the opposite side of you, legs and four of his arms folded, eyes closed, you glare a him, why is he even here.

"quit glaring at me little human" sukuna growls out, clearly not happy about the way you're staring at him. he open all of his eyes to stare at your shakey figure and he frowns.

"do all human get this cold easily?" he says horsely his voice is harsh- maybe it's because you rarely hear him talk, all he needs to do is glance at anyone and this would do the talk for him. you stop yourself from rolling your eyes, he's probably here to watch you freeze to death, finding it entertaining to watch you die. but his next words had you widening your eyes that they might fall out.

"or is it just my delicate little flower?" sukuna causally speaks out, as if those words are not surprising- like he's used to saying it. he raises his eye brows at your shocked expression clearly not catching on what's so amusing.

he lazily trail his eyes up-down your trembling body, before his four arms open, he uses two of his arms to slowly un handle his kimono rob, and let it fall losely around his hips- only exposing his upper half.

you stare at him dumfounded, but horrified at the same from how big his body is- he had huge board shoulders, muscles ripping every part of him, you can't help but stare at his perky pinkish-red nipples, slowly trailing your eyes down to his hairless body, you were used to man having chest hair- but he did have a hair trail connecting his belly button down to the v line of his lower body.

sukuna keep his four arms open toward you as he huskly speak out-

"get over here foolish little human" this is why his arms were spread out, inviting you to his shirtless warm embrace.

"are you going to get your pretty ass here human or do you wish to freeze to death?" he tsk at you, clearly not happy about you making him wait- the gears in your brain turn around and you think about the situation you're in- you were few minutes away from becoming a frozen dead body so you clearly had no other option then to take the king of curses offer.

you slowly crawl your way to him, on all fours to cold to stand up- but what you didn't realize is that, it brought pleasure to sukunas brain, his two cocks spring out proudly, he peers down at you, looking so submissive crawling on all fours to get to him, your full round ass peeking out, swaying as you make your way toward him.

once you get close enough, sukuna stretch his two arms to reach you and place you directly on his erection- but you were to innocent to know what they were- while the other two arms tug you into his chest, just to envelope you in his kimono and tie his rob again.

you sit here to stif not knowing what to do because your whole body was pressed against his warm one, you can feel his perky nipples brush against your own, which make them intentionally harden to.

sukuna is enjoying this so much- so much that his cocks throb, twitch, leak, he couldn't help the purring that left his chest. you clearly feel him purring because your face is completely pressed against his neck, to your surprise it doesn't scare you- to your surprise it does nothing but relax you.

the blowing wind hitting against the windows of the cabin, the warmth of sukunas chest and the two warm things throbbing and twitching behind your thighs, seem to make you lose focus, slowly drifting into drowsiness, can't help but snuggle your face deeper into his neck- taking a deep breath of his smell, you can't help it when you take a glance at his perky nipples they looked so suckable so you leaned in sucking gently on one of them,- to your surprise it only makes sukuna growl and purr louder, so you back off staring at the string of spit you left and you give your attention to his other nipple.

you can feel two of sukunas hands gently stroking your hair, and down your spine, while the other two make their way toward your huge thighs, and plumpy perky ass, you let out a small whine once you feel sukuna grip your ass hard.

"shhh my little human, let your master keep you warm" he coo at you his other two arms still gently petting you, you intentionally move your ass toward his ragging cocks, and sukuna growls gently take your ear between his teeth, biting and sucking on it.

you didn't know why but you felt wet, and tingly down there, so bothered like you wanted some relief, so you start rubbing your thighs together for some fraction-

"feeling needy my little pet? is your sweet little cunt feeling empty?" he whispers darkly in your ear, you suddenly feel one of the warm things that was twitching on your thighs, brush against your tingly wet cunt- you whimper it felt so good that out of relfex you started rubbing on it, liking the feeling of how it was throbbing on your cunt.

sukuna let out a groan as his other cock start rubbing on your ass, while the other was being dry humped by your wet pussy, he can smell your strong arousal and it was driving him crazy- he was drunk on it as his hands trail up your kimono and find your drenched panties.

"i- i need to pee master" you embarrassingly mutter out, not being able to continue the feeling, not wanting to pee on the king of curses.

sukuna chuckles at how innocent you were, of curse at such lowly village they didn't teach woman about sex, they only teached the most important part about it, but they didn't tell you about orgasms, or about how good it felt.

he harshly rips your kimono open and throw it somewhere, leaving you only with your panties on, he stares at your nipples hungrily wanting to feel the hard bud against his tongue so he does, he takes one fat nipples into his mouth while his other hand knead at your other nipple.

you still and moan out, eyes rolling at the new sensation, thighs shaking, arching your chest against his face.

sukuna moans as he feels your wet juice drip down to his clothed cock. "aha you dirty little human, did you cum just from getting your nipples sucked? did you cum on your masters cock?".

you were to out of it, to even make out what he said, but sukuna didn't care as he tug his two throbbing, leaking cock out, stroaking them both together, groaning and growling at the sight of you so fucked out.

"Will you let me give the curses a queen, then?" Slowly, maddeningly slowly, he began to prod that cockhead into your folds.

an animalistic growl left the king of curses clearly getting off at the idea, he can spill his seeds in you, from the idea of having you as his, his queen. "sit on your throne, my queen."

and with that, sukuna forcefully impaled you on both his cocks so hard that you blacked out.

you startled awake, feeling intense pain and pleasure, feeling so stuffed that you can't breath- then you snap out whimpering and whinning, as you look around eyes half opened you can see, sukunas face- but he looked more animalistic then he did before, growling and groaning as he lean in to suck on your bouncing boobs. wet clapping noises filled the cabin, as sukuna tug you up and down his cock, filling you with not one cock- but both of them at the same time.

he can't help but roll his eyes from pleasure, as he takes a glance at your stretched out cunt, so red, so puffy, so tight, gripping so hard into his cocks as he plug them in.

"look at you! look at you taking my cock- no both of them, my beautiful fuck toy, created for the purpose of pleasing me!”"he growls out, the only sounds were his groans that were drowned by the sound of his cock being clenched tightly around your cunt, by your juice spilling out and coating his cocks, while his balls smacked on your asshole. 

“my queen's job is to obey me and to give me heirs… so when your king says cum for him, my queen had better cream all over my fucking cock, do you understand me?”

you screamed in this snow storm, knowing no one will be able to rescue you from the beasts cocks of his, that are tearing through you, ripping you apart as they rip an Orgasm out of you, making you squirt all over him, coating his kimono with your sweet honey.

"cum again hard now", came the low growl of a whisper.

you didn't know what came over you, you wanted to be submissive to him, you wanted to please him, you gave Sukuna exactly what he wanted. you squirted all over his cock again, it made a loud embarrassingly wet noise, the power of your orgasm was made more intense by the fact that the king of curses didn't slow down his inhumane thrusts into your very abused cunt… if anything, he began yanking into you harder, faster. 

there was an insane glint in his eyes, and with every thrust he made sukuna’s growls and grunts began to turn into laughter. 

cruel laughter, pure evil, like he was given the thing he wanted the most in this world.

then he filled you, his cum filling you so deep that you black out again, this time you didn't wake up in the cabin but in a bed whom belongs to the one and only- the king of curses.

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ end ₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ

[recycledraccoon]

Minor thoughts on Oisin and how he seems primed to fuck over Adaine specifically. The flustered ping-pong balls that were a plan all along. The quoting her own words on the previous Elven Oracle back at her in regards to the storm.

I mean...imagine you're a skinny little dragonborn wizard, in a class with a cute elven girl. You don't talk to her, but one of your adventuring party members is pissing thinking that party is getting preferential treatment, so you KNOW about her. You watch from the corner of your eye or from a spot on the back of the class whenever she's actually there. Partway through the year she goes to jail, and when she comes back she and her adventuring party save the world from a dragon. (A dragon of whom your Grandmother had been fond. ((Also, coincidentally, the Vice Principal.))) One of them created a god.

(Your entire party is being groomed into rage by two of your teachers.)

You're in her class again. She is the Elven Oracle, already an accomplished adventurer. She and her friends are popular. She's very pretty. She does not know your name. She does not know who you are, just a skinny dragonborn a few seats back.

You go on your Sophomores Year Spring Break Adventure and don't bother to think about her party at all.

(You and your party are going to kill a god. Your teacher is going to ascend to godhood in their place and you and your party will have Made That Happen. You are angry and determined with each final blow you deal.)

You return from Spring Break angry and with a sore chest.

You find out the elven girl's party has resurrected a dead god and the live streamed the entire fight. They must think they're so much better than you and your party. You'll show them.

(Your friend refuses to change her faith. She cancels the paperwork. The rest of you kill her, confident she will make the right choice and join you again as a proper Champion for your new god. You help kill her. She does not get back up. You hide the body and none of you can say anything. You're so so angry.)

The world descended into darkness and you can do nothing. The sun finally breaks across the sky again right before Junior year. You and your party have made plans and are on the cusp of greatness. You've gained muscles to spare and ink on your scales in carefully selected runes, no longer just a skinny little dragonborn.

(You have a new cleric. He's not your friend. He's a haystack hick from that cult-church from Freshman year, and he's here because the god you're going to kill needs a Champion and he fits the bill, nothing more.)

The first day of school the plan starts to be put in motion. Immediately that party of kids is interfering, in your way. It rackles. You push on anyway, seething inside even as you act the part of being reasonable.

You go to a party at the houses of one of her friends. You've been practicing making spell runes on the inside of ping-pong balls. You're ready.

The pretty Elven girl in your class finally looks at you. She approaches you, gives you a drink, and chills it in your hand. She has to ask your name. You have shared certain wizarding classes with her since Freshman year, tho she was barely there. You have to tell her that.

You chat. She clearly gets flustered, calls you great, and flees back into the house. Your friend teases you for others to overhear. It's a convenient excuse to use your geometry and apply physics to miss every single shot and lay your trap. The drink isn't so perfectly chilled in your hand anymore.

(You talk to her. Play nice. She isn't smooth, but she smiled at you and maybe a part of you is vindictive in seeing her flustered. It's a shame she turned down the diamonds, as dragon madness would have been so poetic. You steal her summons to steal something from the house. She didn't know your name. Didn't remember you. You feel justified. Your anger burns cold like frostbite, like static in the air. You purposely don't wonder if that first miss was intentional or genuine.)

You see each other in class sometimes.

You plot and kill monsters the woods. You will win the battle. You will win the war.

Your parties have a standoff in the cafeteria. You play your part to diffuse the situation, your teacher has been harping on your friends to stop antagonizing the other party. You feel her mind touch yours gentle probing of intentions, her friends all around her as you lock eyes.

(The devil's honey your group gets from that bee girl all goes to your teacher. He is preparing himself to ascend to godhood, and he needs it for his prayers.)

She is searching for your intentions and feelings. You tell her only 'Sorry'. She believes you. You are not entirely sure why. She and her party will hopefully die during their Last Stand exam, and have no way to revive themselves in time, be trapped there until after elections.

Maybe she just wasn't perceptive enough to see the deception.

(You hate her and all her friends. You have had no devil's honey. She believes you. Briefly, you wonder if it was a lie at all.)

They catch you. They know. Your team goes to ground and waits out the remaining days 'til elections and the culmination of everything you've been working for.

It rains at the party, and you have no more masks. You are angry. She must never have been that good of an Oracle at all, and you take joy in mocking her with her own words from long ago.

She's nothing more than an elven girl in your class who was full of herself to remember your name.

(There is nothing left now to stop you from being as openly angry as you like.)

[narxcisse]

Can you please do an express their love with the legendaries? Sea fairy, Fire Spirit, etc etc? :3

— How they express their love.

– With: Sea Fairy, Moonlight, Fire Spirit, Wind Archer, Frost Queen, Stormbringer and Black Pearl.

– CW: implicit(? past SeaMoon mentioned.

— A/N: Remember, requests are open! You can read my pinned post for more information. (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ

— English isn't my native language.

— Sea Fairy

She shows her love through quiet, constant presence—always there beside you when you need her, even if you never ask.

She often gazes at you with that same longing she once reserved only for the moon, eyes full of soft sorrow and hope.

Her voice is rarely raised, but when she speaks to you, there’s a softness even the tides don’t hear.

When she holds your hand, it feels like waves brushing the shore: patient, cool, and always returning.

“I have known eternity in solitude… but your presence feels like something I was always meant to find.”

— Moonlight

She often pulls you into dreams with her, where you drift among stars and forgotten spells in peaceful quiet.

Her love appears in gentle touches—brushing a lock of hair behind your ear, resting her head on your shoulder, watching you as you sleep.

She still dreams often, but now she looks forward to waking up—because you’re there.

Sometimes she reaches out in her sleep, fingers brushing yours, murmuring your name like a lullaby.

“I see you, even in dreams. Especially in dreams.”

— Fire Spirit

He shows his love loudly—boasting about how lucky you are to be with someone as amazing as him... while clinging to you like wildfire.

Playfully teases you until you laugh, then gives you a wink like he’s just conquered the world.

He gets weirdly possessive whenever another Cookie flirts with you—but he’d rather explode than admit it bothers him.

When you’re upset, he’ll burn down the problem... or at least threaten to. He's not great with feelings, but he'll try, for you.

“You’re the only one I’ll turn the heat down for... don’t tell anyone.”

— Wind Archer

He watches you quietly from the treetops and always lands softly at your side when you’re alone.

He rarely says the words, but his actions are constant: shielding you from harm, gifting you wildflowers, bringing you spring air on hard days.

His voice, usually so formal, softens when he speaks to you.

Offers his loyalty silently—sits beside you in stillness, just to exist together.

“You are the only place the wind longs to return to.”

— Frost Queen

She may seem cold, but she always notices when you’re cold too—and she’s silently placing her cloak around your shoulders.

When she trusts you, she lets her icy guard down—revealing small smiles, shared silences, and soft words.

Her touch is rare but meaningful: a hand to your cheek, a brief embrace, the warmth shocking in contrast to her chill.

She protects you not with warmth, but with presence—she will never let anything take you from her cycle.

“In this endless frost, your warmth is what I never knew I needed.”

— Stormbringer

She teases you constantly—calling you her “little cloud,” even when she's secretly smitten.

She summons lightning to impress you... and maybe flex a little. Okay, a lot.

Tries (and fails) to be subtle about watching over you, usually hidden among the clouds.

She acts like cuddling is beneath her... but falls asleep on you mid-storm, snoring like distant thunder.

“You’ve grounded me, storm and all.”

— Black Pearl

Her love is dangerous and deep—she pulls you into the sea when no one else is looking, where you can be alone together.

She warns you not to trust her... but she’s always there to protect you, her trident poised against anything that dares approach.

She shares ancient sea secrets with you—things she’s never said to anyone else.

She’s sharp to everyone else, but when you touch her face, she leans into it like it’s the only warmth left.

“I’ve lost everything once. I will not lose you. I cannot.”

[27spoons]

You Are a Memory. | Natalie Scatorccio

pairing: natalie scatorccio/gn!reader

summary: Natalie says goodbye to an old friend. (mid-late s2)

wc: 2350

warnings: mentions and depictions of suicide, cannibalism as a metaphor for love, y/n usage, natalie scatorccio cannot catch a break

a/n: i wont lie to yall and say this is an easy read. i was writing smut then started listening to the linked song, and, well.... here we are. here we are.

"Nat, you don't have to do this," Van says, breaking the quiet. "Maybe…" They glance around the room before gesturing to Travis, “Trav can take them down to the plane, keep them there 'til spring. You don’t have to be the one to do this—"

"I'm fine on my own." Nat snaps—too quickly. She regrets the bite the second it leaves her mouth. "I did it with Jackie, I'll do it with y/n." They wouldn't have wanted anyone else to do this, anyway, she leaves unsaid, tightening the seatbelt around her waist as she prepares to face the howling wind outside.

Unlike when she was carrying Jackie's bones to the plane, Nat doesn't stop to look back this time. God forbid she let the entire cabin see the way tears had started to spring to her eyes.

The wind batters against her exposed skin as the door to the cabin opens, but it does little to deter her as she steps out into the air, kicking the door shut behind her.

Your bones are already packed—neat, contained. A far cry from Jackie’s, scattered and scorched, cradled in a sheet like the aftermath of a storm. No, she takes you with far more care. She’d watched as Shauna carved your body open, face stone-still. She hadn’t looked away—not once. 

Because in the end, wasn’t it her fault?

I was calling For the last time

"Have you seen y/n?" Nat asks, voice casual, maybe too casual, as she kicks snow from her boots. Another empty-handed hunt. "Found a piece of scrap wood. Figured they’d want it—been carving a lot, lately." She glances at the fireplace, the mantle lined with various woodland creatures and other shapes. 

Mari makes a face and shakes her head, stirring the pot of… belt soup. Yum. "Nah, not since we crashed last night, I think." She pauses, considering. "Wait. Actually—yeah. I don’t think I’ve seen them since we fell asleep." She glances up at Nat, "Aren't you two like… besties? Shouldn't you know where they are?"

That makes Nat's jaw tense. Last night? 

So the last time anyone saw you—was before they all fell asleep?

"Lot?" Nat whips her head around, looking for the former center back. "You seen them? You're always awake before anyone else?" She tries to steady her voice, but it’s already starting to shake—just like her hands.

Lottie considers Nat's question for a moment before shaking her head. "Not that I can remember."

Nat makes a slight sound and immediately throws on her boots again, preparing to go back out into the snow. "I gotta… this isn't like them. They wouldn't just vanish like this without a trace. It isn't like them."

"Wait, you're going back out?" Travis glances up from where he had sat near the fire, "Nat, we just spent hours out there. Maybe they're just taking a walk, or something." He dismisses her like she dismissed his concerns about Javi, but Nat doesn't hear any of it.

"If I'm not back by sunset, come looking for me." It's all the response she gives before she's out the door for the second time that day, trying not to give in to the panic that threatens to overwhelm her.

The walk to the plane feels longer than usual, her steps burdened by the heavy weight she carries—metaphorical and physical. The wind shrieks through the trees, dragging icy fingers across her cheeks, and she doesn't bother to wipe the tears that freeze as soon as they fall.

It feels wrong to bring you here. You don't belong here.

Sure, she did it with Jackie. But that had been about closure. Ritual. This? This is different.

This is a goodbye she hasn't earned, a goodbye she doubts that she'll ever earn.

The crunch of snow under her boots becomes almost unbearable. Rhythmic. Final. She wonders if you would've said something poetic about it—some half-assed line you'd mutter just to make her roll her eyes and secretly smile.

She tightens her grip on the bundle in her arms.

No, not a bundle. Not firewood. Not a pack of furs, or a dead buck.

You.

She hates how light you are now, all the weight of the meat and flesh that you had once worn cut from the bone, resting inside the stomachs of anemic and tachycardic teenagers who didn't value your sacrifice nearly as much as they should have.

The hull of the plane creaks as Nat steps into it, kicking her snow-covered boots on the floor as she walks towards the seat you had sat in when the plane went down, placing your bones carefully onto the cushions. A deep sigh leaves her as she kneels, her hands reverently splaying over the bag that carries you. "Fuck. I should’ve found you sooner." Her voice cracks, "I should've—you wouldn't have… if I'd just—" She presses a hand to her mouth as her eyes squeeze shut, "God, I'm so sorry."

We'd been here before  They found pictures in the snow

"Y/N!" Nat calls out, boots crunching through the snow that had settled over the past few days. "C'MON! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!" She tries to coat it in anger, but you’d know better. You’d hear the crack—the fear under it.

It's been over an hour since she left the cabin. 

An hour of calling your name. 

An hour of holding her breath like that could keep the worst from happening.

The sun is starting to set over the horizon, and she knows that she doesn't have much time left before it becomes too dark even to find her way back to the cabin, so she heads to the last place she thinks you would be. Maybe it's the first place she should have gone, but this has always been a spot you two visited together. Why would you go there alone?

So, she makes her way to this small alcove that the pair of you had found over the summer, before you were worried about starving, before you were concerned about freezing to death in a cabin surrounded by malnourished and fatigued teenagers.

When she approaches the clearing, she almost sighs in relief when she sees your form, lying supine on the ground and staring at the treeline. But you're still. Too still.

"Oh, Jesus-Fucking-Christ, dude. You scared the shit outta—"

The snow underneath your arms is stained a dark crimson colour, the exact colour that Nat had seen game bleed after she had successfully landed a fatal shot between their eyes. 

"No—" Her voice breaks, all semblance of sanity gone out the window. "No. No. No—" 

She drops to her knees adjacent to your lifeless form, hands on your shoulders as she shakes you vigorously. "No, you aren't fucking doing this to me! You know I can't fucking do this with—without—" The first sob falls from her lips when it finally sets in just how pale and waxen you are. 

Nothing else matters now. Her ears begin to ring, drowning out the already muted sounds of the forest, and she presses her forehead into your shoulder as the tears begin to streak down her cheeks. Her words collapse into broken sobs, muffled by your jacket as she clings to you like she could anchor you in place. Like if she just held on tight enough, you wouldn’t leave her again.

The silence in the plane feels just like the clearing.

Still. Too still.

Her hands, still red-raw from the cold, twitch as she brushes a bit of frost off the bag holding your bones. The skin is tight and shiny, fluid-filled sacs blooming at her knuckles—painful reminders of how long she's been in the cold, of what she'd do just to carry you back here herself.

"You looked so peaceful," she murmurs. "I fucking hated that." A scoff leaves her throat, watery and laced with pain. "You never looked like that when you were…" alive. 

Nat's jaw tenses as she looks down at the ripped-up carpet that lines the plane floor, blood-stained and perfectly resembling the emotional turmoil that bubbles beneath the surface. 

"Even when you were sleeping, you… your eyebrows were always pressed together, y'know? Like you couldn't get peace even when you slept." A beat, "I… God, y/n. I hope you've found some fucking peace."

She wants to hate you. She really does. She wants to lash out and tell your bones how selfish you were—but she can't. No matter how hard she tries, how hard she tries to push anger to the surface, you were never someone she could hate, not even when you stole her laces before Regionals last year and made her faceplant in front of the entire goddamn school.

No, you were always the best of them.

I could tell your eyes  Looked beneath the blue

It's well past nightfall when Travis and Gen find her.

Nat sits next to your body, face devoid of all and any emotion, fingers plagued blue and curled in on themselves with superficial frostbite. Her body's stopped shivering—given up on the core instinct to keep warm.

Her thousand-yard stare cuts through Travis as he kneels before her, his voice falling on deaf ears. 

All she can see is you. 

All she can hear is you. 

All she can feel is you.

The world feels as though it's been submerged in water as she's helped to her feet and back to the cabin. 

It isn't until Gen mentions something about coming back to retrieve your body in the daylight that Nat flinches.

"No—" Nat immediately rasps out, her senses returning to her as she struggles out of Travis's grasp. "N-no. We won't… we aren't gonna… not like we did Jackie. We won't. I won't let us. I won't. I won't. I won't. I w—" She chokes on her own words, falling back down to her knees adjacent your corpse. "I'm so sorry. I'm so fucking sorry—"

Travis says something. A reassurance. An empty string of syllables that don’t matter. 

She doesn't hear it. His words bleed into a static sound that floods her senses and threatens to consume her whole, almost like the darkness that had consumed you.

The walk back to the cabin is a blur. Someone boils snow for a bath. Nat doesn't speak. Doesn't look up. She lets them peel off her coat, strip her down, and lower her in like a doll.

The water stings. She doesn't flinch.

She doesn't even feel it.

Her knees ache against the floor, but she doesn't budge from her position.

The plane is cold. Not wilderness cold—ghost cold. The kind of chill that sinks deeper than skin and doesn't go away, no matter how many layers you wear or how many nights pass.

Nat stares at the bag holding your bones—at you. Her fingers twitch again. She wants to open it. Wants to unzip it, lay you out, see you—but she's afraid of what won't be there. The parts of you that were taken, that they took, that she took.

Her throat tightens. She exhales sharply through her nose.

"'member what you said that one night?" she murmurs. "The night the plane crashed? That if you died out here, you wanted to go out with a bang?"

A weak laugh huffs out of her. Her hand moves slowly, trembling against her will, as it comes to rest over the bag.

"Well. I'm sorry it wasn't as exciting as you had hoped." A pause. "Y'did get eaten though, which you'd argue is pretty cool, but…" The laugh she attempts doesn't make it past an attempt—the sound coming out far more broken and frail than intended. "It wasn't supposed to end like this. Not you."

I woke underneath the trees For the first time

"Here," Shauna says quietly, holding out a pale heart with areas of purplish mottling to Nat, "you should be the one to do it."Nat's lip trembles as she delicately takes the heart—your heart—from Shauna's hand, cradling it like it might still beat. It's still cold from being in the elements for so long, a sharp contrast to the heat radiating from the fireplace. 

She debates speaking for a long moment, but decides that words wouldn't mean much right now, not in front of a crowd of people you had grown a strong distaste for in the previous months. 

Before she can talk herself out of it, she takes a bite out of your right ventricle, the taste of congealed blood and half-frozen viscera coats her tongue, metallic and wrong. 

She nearly gags. 

So, she swallows hard. Forces it down. As quickly as it entered her mouth, it leaves, sliding past the lump in her throat like it might claw its way back up.

Nat stares at the half-eaten heart in her hands, slick and heavy with blood that no longer belongs to anyone.

She can't do it.

Not all of it.

With a sudden, shaky breath, she stands and crosses to the fire.

"You don't deserve this," she mutters—not to you, but to them.

And before anyone can stop her, she tosses the heart into the flames.

It hisses as it hits the heat, blood bubbling on contact. The smell is awful, but Nat doesn't flinch. She watches it burn until it's blackened and cracked, until nothing that once loved or was loved remains.

Only then does she turn her back to the fire and let the rest of them have their feast.

"I'm sorry, y/n," are the last words she speaks to you as she takes off the necklace that dangles around her neck—a rifle bullet on a long silver chain—and places it into the bag where your bones rest, and will remain until the ground thaws.

Nat doesn't look back as she leaves the plane, but she never forgets how your inanimate body looked when she found you there—your once bright eyes dimmed and devoid of life, your once beautiful laugh snuffed beneath the oppressive weight of the winter snow.

No, Natalie never forgets you, just like she never forgives herself.

a/n: we take a break from our regularly scheduled angsty-smut for just angst. anyways, back to you, angsty-smut! (translation: 'light up floor' next)

[sturnioz]

fratboy!chris still doesn't fuck with the relationship labels — but that doesn't stop him from showing everyone that shy!reader is his.

it's supposed to be another fun frat party — overflowing with music, alcohol, drugs, and money. chris should be having the time of his fucking life, but without you tucked into his side as you usually are, he's not having fun at all.

he's restless; his leg bounces continually, and his jaw clenches as he grinds his teeth together, watching you across the room, engrossed in conversation with one of his frat brothers.

it was an unusual sight — seeing shy, little you animatedly chatting with someone other than him. but since you discovered that this particular frat boy shared the same interests as you, it was clear that you found a new friend... and chris hated that.

his irritation bubbles beneath the surface, prodding his tongue against his cheek, a humourless laugh escaping him as he shakes his head in disbelief each time he catches a glimpse of your excitement; the way your eyes light up as you gush about something you're interested in, and how his frat brother nods along with a grin.

"what's up with you?" nate asks, clamping his hand on chris' shoulder from behind, voice laced with curiosity. chris shrugs him off, irritation flashing deeper across his face and nate scoffs, glancing over at matt who has been lounging beside him this entire time. "what the fuck has gotten into him?"

matt takes a slow hit from his joint and lazily nods his head over in your direction. nate follows his gaze, a low sound of understanding rumbling from his chest.

"as much as i would love f'you both to rock someone's shit tonight, that kid is harmless — literally. don't think he even knows what a fuckin' pussy looks like—"

chris isn't listening, not when there's a loud ringing in his ears, drowning out nate's voice as he watches his frat brother lay a hand on your arm, gently guiding you from a group of rowdy drunk people who stumble by. it was a simple and kind gesture, but the sight of another guy touching you twists something deep inside him, chris see's red.

chris pushes himself up from the couch, his heart thumping rapidly in his chest, nostrils flaring as he beelines straight for you, shoving through the crowds of sweaty bodies, ignoring the ones that try and get his attention. he's behind you in seconds, looming like a shadow, breathing down your neck as he fixes his glare on his frat brother, who raises an eyebrow at chris' sudden appearance.

"oh, hey—"

"leave."

the guy gapes, startled by the raw intensity of chris' voice. "wait, wha—"

"did i fuckin' stutter or somethin'? do you... do you wan' me to say it louder f'you?" chris asks as he leans in closer, his chest pushed against your shoulder, eyes narrow into a dangerous glare. "fuckin'. leave. now... or d'you wan' me to make you?"

the challenge hung in the air, thick with tension, and chris' jaw remains set tight; muscles coiled like a spring. he doesn't even flinch when you spin around to face him, your own eyes wide at the sudden possibility of a fight happening.

panic surges through you as you shake your head quickly, curling your fists around the front of his shirt, desperation lacing your voice as you plead his name.

but he pays no mind — his focussed lock on his frat brother, who mutters an apology before hastily retreating elsewhere, the fear evident in his expression. chris watches him leave, the intensity in his gaze unwavering.

when his eyes finally flit to you, his tongue prods at his cheek, eyebrows furrowing in frustration. you can see the storm brewing within him and your heart races, clinging to him with wide and frantic eyes, searching for reassurance.

"chris..." you breathe out his name, your voice trembling with concern. "you.. why would you—"

but before you can finish, he steps closer, his hand gripping the back of your neck, pulling you forward with a force that takes your breath away. his lips crash against yours, hard and demanding, and you gasp against his mouth, arms frozen at your sides, eyes wide in surprise.

it probably wasn't the most please sight from a outsiders perspective — him fierce and harsh, you bewildered and unmoving. but this was the second time he's kissed you during your complicated relationship... if you could even call it that.

the feeling of his tongue sliding into your mouth is what finally brings you back to reality. you instinctively go to reciprocate the kiss, your heart warming at the thought of having his lips on yours for longer than just a few fleeting seconds. but, of course, your hopes are shattered when he pulls away from you, leaving you breathless.

his hand, which had rested on the back of your neck, now slides around to grip your jaw, holding you in place as he stares at you.

"don't look too pleased, kid," chris murmurs, a smirk playing on his lips as he pats your cheek. "jus' lettin' everyone know who you belong to, yeah?"

© STURNIOZ

[womanofwords]

Darling Demon (Part 4)

Yandere!batfam x betrothed!neglected!male!reader x yandere!demon!spouse

Alfred served you toast while the rest of your family ran around like headless chickens. Bruce was making lots of calls, Dick was fretting about you being raped by a demon, and Damian was avoiding you. Jason was lugging heavy-duty tools over to you.

"OK, slugger, those restraints must be heavy," Jason said. "Luckily for you, I have what you need."

"Can't you just let me have it? I'll ask Azrir to make them removable later," you said.

"You shouldn't trust that demon. He's openly made plans to assault you." Jason didn't look at you as he talked, searching for the perfect tool to cut off the metal around your wrists.

"Azrir said he was waiting for my agreement. He or she was going to wait until I became ready."

"Shut up, you idiot!" Jason was about to shake you, but remembered how Azrir treated Damian and decided against it. "Azrir cannot marry you! Now let me take these off!"

Jason took the biggest bolt-cutter in the bag and tried to hook it under your bracelet. Far too big. He tested out different metal cutters until he got to one that could go under the bracelet while still being big enough to do damage. He kept his hand steady, clamped down on your new bracelets . . . and the metal cutter broke.

"Oh." The metal cutter came away from the bracelet, its teeth snapped clean off. "So I can keep it?"

"Until we find a different method to remove them," Jason sulked, storming off. You continued to eat your toast.

"Master Y/N, allow me to extend my condolences about your situation," Alfred said. "Rest assured your father is doing everything in his power to ensure that you are not harmed."

You snorted with disbelief. "What's he going to do? Bribe Azrir to marry another human?"

"He has contact with a Mr John Constantine, who can potentially get your 'marriage' annulled. You do not need to worry about . . . consummating anything."

"Alfred, would Azrir really be so bad?" you asked. "At least he noticed me. Even with the blatant talk of consummating the marriage, I still felt more important than I had ever felt in my life." Already, you were developing a crush. "They even defended me. Nobody ever does that."

Alfred looked at you with concern. "Your family can defend you."

"I know they can. I also know that they won't."

"Your siblings are worried about you. They aren't going to let that demon take you away."

"They've been wanting me gone for ages. Why does this upset them? Damian should be partying. He can be the only biological son with me gone."

"GONE?!" Dick rushed in, terror personified. "YOU ARE NOT GOING ANYWHERE! NOT HELL, NOT ANYWHERE WITH THAT DEMON RAPIST, NOT EVEN OUT OF THIS HOUSE! YOU ARE STAYING WHERE WE CAN SEE YOU!"

You stared at him with blank, confused eyes. "Um . . . what?"

"We need to put some new things into your room." He led you away from Alfred to show you a box full of crosses. "Nothing too serious, just some crosses and holy water. You'll be rid of him soon enough, little wing."

You continued to look at your eldest brother with dead eyes. "Dick, do you know where my room is?" you asked.

"Um . . ." Dick chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. "No. But I can figure it out."

"Of course you don't," you groaned.

_*_*_*_*_*

"Why is everyone so religious all of a sudden?" you asked. "I'm not even Christian. Why are there rosary beads in my room?"

Dick ruffled your hair. "Just trying to protect you, little wing."

You've never protected me once, you thought, but you kept that little idea to yourself.

Your room was filled with enough religious paraphernalia to make most religious cults think you were overdoing it. Dick relaxed into your bed to admire his handiwork, only to sit up with shock. "Why is something sticking me?" he asked.

"Oh, that's just one of the springs. My mattress hasn't been replaced since I got here," you said.

"Oh, I see," Dick said. "I'll tell Bruce for you. This can't be comfortable."

"It isn't, but that's never been anybody's problem but mine."

Dick's stomach churned with guilt. His butt ached with pinpricks of pain from your mattress. You lived like this right under their noses? Azrir could probably track you down from your deplorable living conditions alone. "Little bird, you'll be safer rooming with me. It won't be comfortable in this room while we're refurbishing," Dick said.

"Is this my birthday present or something?" you asked.

"Um . . . partly," Dick said. "Just . . . stay with me. You can take your blanket with you."

You were taken to Dick's room and led towards his bed. "Do I have to be here? You usually prefer to be alone."

"No, that's Jason. Why would you think that about me?"

"You just never seem like you want to talk to me."

"Oh. Right. Well, I suppose this is as good a time as ever to bond." Dick's arms dragged you into his bed. "No demons in here, little one. Just your family."

"Same difference," you muttered.

Taglist: @tinybrie, @bunniotomia, @c4xcocoa, @darkmoka.

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[puckingeccedentesiast]

Sunsets & Daisies

Luke Hughes x Reader Word Count: 2.3k Description: Luke Hughes and his fiancée always have an annual spring photo shoot, this year for their fourth anniversary Luke gets some welcome news.

Every year, when September hits Luke and Y/N venture to some decadently and much fought over location for their annual photo shoot. What once started with the two cramming into a Photo Booth, drunk on Luke’s birthday became somewhat of their tradition.

This year Y/N had practically begged Luke to relinquish all control he had and give it to her, given as of recently a huge surprise - a future altering surprise, was now at play. It had been almost nine months since Luke proposed and with the wedding two days away the couple thought this would be the perfect time to have the shoot before the season starts.

The location was about a forty-five out of Michigan, and was scheduled for the late afternoon in an attempt to achieve some sunset lit pictures. Luke’s sling added to the difficulty of getting ready, being sure not to accidentally aggravate his shoulder while also trying to get the polo shirt on was a massive task.

"You're too tall Lukey, can you bend down a sec?" you murmured, making sure to gently thread the bunched fabric over his injured shoulder first. The swollen, bruised skin making you grimace as Luke hissed through his teeth when you rotated his arm to allow the other one to slip through. "Sorry bub."

"It's alright." Luke whispered, "You're doing your best and their isn't much else we can do for the pain."

"You can have another does of pain killers when we get there, I'll put them in my purse for you to take before we get there.” The girl spoke as she put said medicine in her purse, among other essentials as well as today’s surprise. While she was allowed the liberty of preparing the surprise with the photographer by graciously offering to organise this year's photo shoot, claiming that Luke already does to much. However if Luke told you the story, it would have been told so dramatically the person listening would have assumed you held him at gunpoint. Which was completely untrue. You had used a hot spatula.

"Sounds, good." Luke spoke, grabbing a cap, using it to brush his hair back so it sat perfectly. You could see the one handed struggle he was having as you watched his scrunched up face in the mirror.

With a heavy sigh you crossed your arms, staring at him in the mirror, "Luke, if you think for a second you are wearing that cap during the shoot you have a lot more concerning things to worry about rather then your shoulder."

“I wouldn’t dare, it’s just till we get there so my hair doesn’t get super frizzy.” Luke stated, giving a pointed look as he turned back around and started to walk over to where you sat at the vanity, brushing the last bits of makeup across your face with the brush before turning the light switch and watching the bulbs dim till the room was bathed in darkness.

Exiting down the hallway and plucking the seperate car, house and gate keys off of their designated wall hooks in the entry way, playing them into your purse knowing because of Luke’s arm, even though he would insist on driving you will have to. Walking into the kitchen, hand brushing past the marble countertop, fingers drifting over the bunch of bananas sitting on the stone as you contemplated what you wanted to eat as well as a snack to take.

Luke trotted down the stairs quickly, heavy footsteps sounding out, softened by carpet but still loud enough to contemplate whether or not an elephant was storming throughout your house. “Should I wear my white sneakers? Or my blue ones?”

“I’d wear the blue.. well they are navy actually. There might be red dirt there and it will be easier to get it out of the blue rather than the white.” you said with an analytical tone, thinking best about the circumstances. “Besides, they will work well with your shirt.”

You heard Luke shuffle off down the hallway to the mud room, where you had all the shoes stowed away in little cubby cubes under the coat rack.

“Can you grab my black ankle boots please?” you requested as you opened the fridge, still in search for snacks you knew you were going to want inevitably. It was remarkable how dense men were sometimes, Luke, who knows you inside and out hasn’t even put a thought as to why you may be eating more or why you wanted one food constantly. Almost like you were craving, something.

“The ones with the little chain?” Luke called back out, you could hear him pulling the weaved baskets in and out.

“No! The ones with the little ribbing down the side of the legs?” You spoke, albeit louder so it carried down the hall into the room Luke was in.

“So the ones with the chain!” Luke’s tone matched yours, his with filtered confusion. He was holding said boots, they were black with a tan, woody coloured block on the heel of them, although it added little height and across the ribbed stitching on the side of the boots was a dainty little gold chain.

From where you were standing, brow creased as you looked into the fridge, eyes darting from the bread to make some toast, to the eggs which you could quickly scramble and maybe put on the toast. Then your eyes locked with the packet of dark chocolate covered almonds. Now they would be good.

“Y/N!” Luke cried, still looking at the boots as he waited for an answer. Looking at the wall with a expression of concern and disbelief.

“They aren’t the same boot Luke! They are different bo-“ Y/N cut herself off as Luke wandered into the kitchen, boots in hand. “Oh. But they are two different boots! I swear they are!”

Slamming the fridge door shut, discarding the loaf of raisin toast and butter container and jar of strawberry jam on to bench, crouching and letting the items fall from your arms onto the bench with a clink from the glass jar. You rounded the counter, using your hand to prevent you from bumping your hip bone on the stone.

Luke watched as you damn near jogged, more of a hop, skip and jump down the hall towards the mud room. It was cute, watching your light anger in being wrong show through your actions. Listening to the manic shuffling of the woven crates as you pulled them out of each of their cubby shelves only to see they weren’t the pair of shoes you thought existed, but clearly didn’t. When you came stomping back down the hall with a heavy pout and furrowed brow, giving the boots which matched the description you gave with disdain.

“You were right.” Your tone was short and sad.

“Yeah.. is that upsetting you?” Luke asked, eyebrows scrunching together.

“It is. It shouldn’t but it is.” You spoke in an incredulous tone. Moving back over to the bench, fingers toying with the plastic covering the bread loaf. You felt as if you wanted to yell, cry and scream all at the same time. Darn mood swings.

Luke just laughed, a rich hearty sound that made your knees wobble as you screwed open the jam jar, placing the raisin toast into the toaster, waiting and ruffling through different packets of chips in the snack drawer picking out two and throwing them in Luke’s direction.

“What flavours do you want?” You asked, still swatting your way through the chip drawer.

“I’m not going to be hungry. I ate before remember?” Luke looked up from his phone.

“Okay the-“ you cut yourself off as the toaster popped up, bringing the raisin toast with it. You grabbed the toast out, flinging it onto the bench after realising it was too hot to just hold onto.

Smearing the butter and jam onto the slices of toast, shoving one into your mouth holding it in your teeth as you turned and placed the bread and condiments back into the fridge. After taking a solid, hearty bite of the toast you placed it back onto the bench, not minding the crumbs that dropped off it. You grabbed the boots from where they sat next to the kitchen island counter and slipped your feet into them, the black tights you were wearing to battle the brisk september air aiding in your pursuit.

"Are you ready to go?" Luke looked up as you asked him this, stretching his none injured arm out, then slotting his phone into his back pocket.

"Whenever you are!" He replied enthusiastically, standing up and holding his hand out for you. He watched as you grabbed your purse, still holding your piece of toast trying not to let the jam dribble down your hand. Luke held the front door open as you stepped out and followed the path to where the car was parked in the driveway. You pressed down on the key fob to unlock the door so you could slide into the driver seat while Luke situated himself in the passenger seat, awkwardly reach across his body to pull the seat belt over and click it into place.

Mirroring Luke, albeit with more ease you strapped yourself in before pulling backwards out of the driveway, checking both ways for traffic. Heading to the stop sign at the end of the street, pulling away from the suburban area and driving away from the city after taking an entry onto the highway to go south. Luke had taken care of the music, connecting his phone to the car via aux cord and playing the majority of his songs, with your input for a song here and there.

"Play that Garth Brooks one.. the country one Jack really likes." you spoke, voice raised slightly to project over the song that was currently playing.

"Why would I play that?" Luke questioned back, his face skeptical.

"Because Callin' Baton Rouge is a fantastic song. Now play it." you responded, looking in the rearview mirror, checking the lanes next to you before merge into the exit turning lane, heading down a rural street where the sides of the road was lined with fences holding cattle in and big tall trees acting as a windbreak.

Even though he had absolutely no idea where the final destination was Luke was staring to catch on that it might have something to do with a field, something very nature-y. He was right, or by the fact that you pulled up next to a white toyota camry near the entrance gate to a field which was bordered with a small forest. Following you and getting out of the car, he watched as you ambled over, shook the young woman's hand.

"Luke, this is Kelly. She will be doing our photos this year." Y/N introduced the photographer, it was obvious that she wasn't a random due to the high quality canon camera she was cradling in one arm.

"Pleasure to meet you." Luke exchanged pleasantries with the woman before the little group of three set off into the field, heading towards the treeline. There was a dirt track that Luke could hear led down toward a creek, he could see why you had told him not to wear his good white shoes, there was a certain chance his shoes would be getting a little dirty.

With all credit to you, he had to admit that the spot was absolutely stunning and he couldn't imagine a more perfect place for the photos. Particularly when the dense foliage thins out and he can see the beautiful architecture of some kind of ruined building. Nature had taken over, vines crawling all up the elegant arches which were bathed in late afternoon sun.

"This is beautiful darlin'" Luke murmured in your ear as he looked up from where he was perched on a rock, this was just one of the many positions and places Kelly had you too stand, sit, hug, kiss, smile or laugh for the photos. He already seemed elated at the fact the photoshoot was happening, he hadn't even gotten the news that was turning your stomach inside out with nerves. Or was it something else?

"Okay, Luke, can you turn and face the creek? I need Y/N behind you, and then you are going to turn around." Kelly asked, setting up for the final shot of the big moment. She winked at you as you pulled the little reel of photos out of your purse. Taking a deep calming breath as you stood behind him, holding the photos that represented your future with Luke, you hands were shaking but you stood. "Okay Luke. Turn around for me."

As Luke did you met his briefly before they locked onto the ultrasound photos you held for him to see. His beaming smile dropped into a gape as he looked at the photos dumbfounded, but it quickly returned as he opened and closed his mouth, trying to find the words he so desperately wanted to say. Instead he scooped you into his arms, spinning you around as the camera clicked. Capturing this moment forever, allowing you to reflect on it and show it to family and friends.

"Your- Your seriously." Luke stammered, placing you down, cradling the side of your head as well as the side of your stomach.

"Yeah.. I am." you smiled back, matching his grin with one just as bright.

He pulled away turning away and pumping the air before shouting into the forest clearing. "I'm going to be a dad!"

Yes you are Luke Hughes, a damn great one.

[jaderabbitt]

thinking about bucky finding nearly all shapes, sizes, and color of women attractive-- but specifically having a thing for curvy women / curvy!reader (as I mentioned in A New Kind of Love)

holy fuck I got carried away LMFAO OOPS, explicit content under the cut!! mdni!!

he was an avid bachelor in the 40s, and some things never change. he may not be as good as he once was when it comes to flirtations, but he's still got charm and he knows it. what has changed is the women who walk down the streets of new york city.

women wearing trousers was not unheard of, but was unusual. now, women wear clothes that are skin tight and accentuate all the right places.

bucky considers himself a respectful man, but even he is not above temptations.

his eyes would be trained on your figure as you walked around the apartment in your sleep shorts and a fitted tank top. you weren't intentionally trying to tease him--in fact, this was simply the most comfortable thing you had to wear around the house on a hot spring day. new york weather is temperamental; one day it's 80 degrees fahrenheit and sunny, and the next it's high 50s with rain for 5 days in a row.

humidity is also rampant, given the city is essentially interconnected islands. the climate is humid subtropical, meaning there's spring tropical storms as well.

put all that together and you get humid, hot days where a thin sheen of sweat coats your skin near permanently. you're sweating in places you didn't even think you could sweat in before. your thighs are chafing from the moisture combined with friction, the undersides of your breasts cling to cotton as you forego a bra. your ass is damn near eating your shorts with how they ride up, but you could never be bothered to find ones that fit loosely.

bucky, however, is too damn caught in how you must've been carved in venus' image. your skin glistens as if it were tempting him to have a taste, your clothes cling to your curves so beautifully that he might as well already have you nude beneath him. he's already painfully hard at the thought of fucking his cock in between your closed thighs, abusing your body's natural lubricants. his hands would grip the fat of your waist, clinging on to your softness like a lifeline.

he'd absolutely eat your pussy like a man starved, reveling in the salty addition of the sweat mixed with your slick that had been gathering from the minute you saw his dark, lazy gaze roving over your shape. his hands would knead the plush fat of your stomach as he dips his tongue inside of you. he gets so worked up over how sexy he finds your full figure that he'd have to grind against the sheets to relieve some of the pressure.

bucky still worries about losing control over his strength during sex, but the natural padding of your body eases a lot of that concern. he allows himself to get lost in the act--he knows that you can take him. one hand is calloused and hot against the expanse of your belly, the other cold and hardened, gripping the sheets tight enough to rip apart seams by your head. his hips piston into yours as he sheathes his length into your wet, aching heat. he adores the whines and gasps he forces out of you--he knows that he's the only one who ever has, and ever will, fill your cunt so completely that you can feel him all the way to your cervix. most men simply don't have the equipment to do so with your body, and he loves that thought.

when he knows he's getting closer to the edge, he'll wrap his arms around the curve of your back, slotting them between the pillowy rolls of skin and lift. it comes at no strain to him; his only goal is to press the soft curves of your figure as close to the hard, muscled planes of his own as he can. the change in angle has him hitting right into that special spot that makes you keen and arch into him even further. he'll press his temple into the space between your neck and shoulder and become very vocal all of a sudden, grunting and groaning by your ear. but, it isn't because of the effort it's taking him to hold you up, oh no--it's because he's trying not to blow his load before he's made you come one last time.

"Need you to come, baby-" he'd hiss, "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

he genuinely might tear up because he's unintentionally edging himself while trying to make sure he gives you the pleasure you earned by doing absolutely nothing but being so goddamn pretty.

he'd thank you for letting him worship you as he cleans up his spend from your thick thighs with a warm rag. you're just a bit confused because all you did today was clean up around the apartment in the loungewear you've probably worn for three nights straight and he's acting like you gifted him the sun and stars.

[mariistic]

WARM ENOUGH (IN YOUR EMBRACE)

mari ibarra × fem!reader

synopsis: in the dead of winter, two girls find fleeting warmth in each other’s arms. With the cold closing in and time running out, what they share might not be enough to survive—but it’s enough to remember.

warnings: fluff, calm before the storm lol aka before she dies, she isn't dead guys I was kidding, I'm still in denial, tapped into my emotions a little too much

The snow creaks like bones beneath your back, and your whole body aches from the cold—but Mari is pressed against you, her face buried in the hollow between your neck and shoulder, and that’s the only thing keeping you here. Keeping you sane.

Your shelter isn’t a cabin anymore. It’s a half-collapsed tarp pulled over branches, dug into the snow like a shallow grave. It smells like wet wool, rotting meat, and burnt wood from the fire you keep failing to start right. You lost feeling in your toes days ago.

Mari trembles against you constantly. She’s been doing that more and more—shaking like a leaf even when the wind’s not howling. Her fingers are raw. Her lips have split down the middle.

But she’s still Mari.

Sharp-tongued, stubborn Mari. The girl who called everyone a freak the first week out here, who used to braid her hair even after the crash, who kissed you once behind a tree and said, “Don’t fall in love with me. I’ll die before we get out of here.”

She’s always had a little dramatic flair. You never thought she’d be right.

Now she shifts closer to you in the dark, pressing her forehead against your temple, her breath fogging in the cold air.

“You’re warm,” she mumbles, like it’s a prayer or an accusation.

You hum softly. “You always say that.”

“I mean it. You’re like… heat. Even now. Even here.”

You don’t speak right away. You just press your hand to the small of her back, trying to share whatever warmth your body still has left.

“I think about spring sometimes,” you whisper. “Just stupid things. Like wet grass. Sunlight on my legs. Your hair, y'know, not frozen.”

Mari lets out a breathy laugh. “I think about socks. Clean socks for once. And orange juice. The kind with pulp.”

“You hate pulp.”

“I hate pulp,” she agrees. “But I’d drink it now.”

She goes quiet again. Her voice is smaller when she speaks next.

“Do you think anyone’s looking for us anymore?”

You hesitate. Then lie. “Yes.”

Mari doesn’t buy it, but she nods anyway. She turns her face toward yours. Her nose is pink from cold, her eyes shiny and tired.

“You’re the only reason I’m still here,” she says.

The words are so soft they might’ve been stolen by the wind, but you catch them. You hold them close, like fire.

You touch her cheek with your half-numb fingers. “Then don’t go. Not yet.”

Mari leans forward and kisses you. Not desperate. Not rushed. Just real. Cold lips, warm heart. Like she’s trying to freeze time right here in this half-dug shelter before the snow swallows everything.

When she pulls away, her voice is steady. “Promise me something?”

You nod.

“When I’m gone…” Her eyes don’t flinch. “Remember this part. Not the other shit. Not what we did. Just this. You and me.”

You close your eyes, feel the weight of her breath.

“I will.”

And even if you never see spring again, this moment—this one—will stay with you like heat.

[wrongbodies]

Fanfic: Heart Stopped Pt. 1

The corridor of Truham Grammar School for Boys was bustling with activity as was normal for any morning of the week. Charlie wove his way through the crowds of boys joking, shoving, gabbing, and generally milling about. He was not one to cut a path through the throngs of his peers, instead he tried to pass in a manner that took up the least space, the least presence.

He lowered his eyes when he passed by one of the darkest presences in school, Ben Hope. His former fake boyfriend was glaring, and he could feel that gaze like lasers boring into his side. Whatever, he thought. I'm going to see Nick soon. That's all that matters.

The thought of Nick, and his thick, welcoming arms was enough to power him through that troublesome moment. And sure enough - passing into the classroom that they first got sat together in - there was Nick. Always early to the class, and always beaming right at Charlie when he walked in. It was like the sun. You know it's always there, and when you see it, you feel it's warmth. It's just... there for you, and you are in it's light.

"Hi." Nick says, smiling at Charlie, a shine in his eyes.

"Hi." Charlie said. They both chuckled, and Nick leaned in and placed a soft peck on Charlie's cheek. Charlie blushed. Even though they had been out for a while now, it still felt so special to get a kiss at school. And, of course, NOT in the sports equipment shed or an abandoned classroom.

Charlie Spring

"Lunch later?" Nick asked, lowering his voice to a whisper. The teacher was starting roll call.

"Yes." Charlie said. Low, too, but more because he still struggled with his eating issues. Nick put his large hand on Charlie's forearm and squeezed. The touch definitely quelled some of Charlie's anxiety.

Nick Nelson

Later, at lunch Charlie and Nick sat alone in the arts room. Mr. Ajaye had left them alone to go eat with Mr. Farouk somewhere else. The two were eating and laughing, enjoying each others company in a moment of privacy not often found during the school day.

Their peace was ruined by the sound of stomping feet. They both jumped a bit, since the arts room was never intruded upon - even by Tao!

They spun around to find none other than Harry, Charlie's main bully for the past year. He was red-faced and puffing.

"You stupid, little nerd." He seethed.

"Harry, can you just fuck off?!" Nick barked, standing up.

"Oh, give it a toss, Nick. I know you been snogging this little queer." He sneered. "But he got me suspended, him and his annoying friend, Bao or whatever."

Charlie was flushed red, his mouth instantly dry. He was staring down at the floor.

"Harry, I'm telling you: Fuck. Off." Nick commanded.

"Fine, but this isn't over. I will get you back for this." Harry threatened.

He left, storming away and swearing. Nick approached Charlie, and gently lifted his face with a finger under his chin. He brushed Charlie's cheek with his thumb.

"Are you ok?" He asked softly.

"I am. I think I was more surprised than anything." Charlie lied. He felt hollowed out. Nick was helping fill that void, though. He was his rock, in times like this.

"He won't mess with you if he knows what is good for him." Nick said, ominously.

Charlie sincerely hoped Harry knew what was good for him. He didn't want to end up in a fight like how Tao did.

The rest of the school day passed without incident. Charlie even started to relax. Unfortunately, walking out of the front gate he was stopped by Harry and his gang of popular kids.

Harry Greene

"Oi! Gay boy!" Harry called out. Charlie pointed his gaze down and tried to pass quickly. A firm hand on his shoulder stopped him, and pulled him around. He stood inches away from Harry. He could smell his breath, that was how close he was.

"What do you want, Harry?" Charlie asked, quivering.

"I want to get even. You got me suspended, and my folks were all over my case the whole time." Harry spat. He raised a fist.

"Harry! No!" A voice yelled distantly. Charlie saw over Harry's shoulder Nick, emerging from the school, sprinting. He wasn't fast enough though. Charlie saw in a blur the pinkish-white blur of Harry's fist hurtling towards his face.

The fist never connected. Charlie felt everything slip away, like the world fell away. And then suddenly it was back, like reality just slammed back into place all around him. He was instantly disoriented though. Somehow the world had reversed, or like he had been turned 180 degrees.

He felt his jacket grabbed from behind, and his body was spun about. "I should punch your face in for that, Harry!"

Charlie blinked in confusion. What? He couldn't see Harry at all, and he was wondering why Nick yelled that into his face.

"What are you talking about, Nick?" Charlie asked. "I don't know where Harry is."

"Very funny, you ass." Nick huffed. He then shoved Charlie to the side, where he stumbled a bit, but recovered. When he turned to face Nick, he was shocked at what he saw. Nick was helping someone up... someone who looked an awful lot like Charlie did.

What the hell?

Charlie then realized something. His body felt... different. There was no hunger. He didn't feel some of his usual compulsions, the obsessions. He looked down, and flexed his fingers and hands. These nails didn't look like his, the skin was a different hue as well.

He felt a phone in his pocket, and his face unlocked it, despite it being a completely different phone from his. Flicking it to the camera, he turned the camera and pointed it to his face.

Harry Greene stared incredulously back at him. Fuck.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuuuuuuck.

TBC

Note: I added pictures to this one, breaking my rule because these characters have an established appearance in the show, and I felt these images were fitting since they aren't original characters of mine.

[exorcqism]

﹆₊注意‧₊˚ PAY ATTENTION TO ME, KAMO CHOSO

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ﹆₊ 概要 ‧₊˚ your boyfriend has been on the game for the whole day. why not distract him a little? wc, 1.23K. dark mode recommended.

␥ note. this idea had me giggling and kickin my feet. i’m back from my “break”. and did yall see the eclipse monday? it was mad pretty. also with gamer!choso, he strikes me as a destiny 2/valorant/overwatch player. hope ya enjoy the storyyyy. reblog to support meeee

␥ tags. gamer!choso, reader is getting bored watching choso play, smut, riding him while he plays his game, female anatomy, etc. lmk if i missed anything

␥ misc. masterlist AO3

perched on the edge of the bed, you watched as your boyfriend choso raged and fumed at his teammates, their second loss in a single hour driving him to madness. his body was taut and rigid, every muscle coiled with tension as his nimble fingers flew across the keyboard, navigating the character with precision.

you sat there, wishing those hands were on you, exploring every inch of your body instead of his loadout before starting another round. the room was filled with the sound of clicking keys and expletives as if a storm was brewing within the small space.

your gaze remained fixated on the back of choso's head, tracing every strand of his obsidian hair that flowed from his low ponytail and clung to the pale skin of his neck.

the rest of his hair framed his face in a silken curtain, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline and cheekbones. you couldn't help but study every minute detail, from the way strands danced in the breeze to the slight sheen of sweat glistening on his skin.

the deafening roar of weapons firing and the frustrated mutterings of choso echoed through the air, seeming to last for an eternity before the match finally came to an end.

with a jubilant shout, choso leapt up from his seat, celebrating his team's victory with wild enthusiasm. your nostrils flared in annoyance and your shoulders slumped in disappointment, but then a spark of determination ignited in your mind as an idea popped into your head.

as you rose from the bed, the springs beneath it groaned in protest. choso was engrossed in his favorite game, his fingers moving deftly over the keyboard as he swiftly maneuvered the controls. you straddled him, feeling the creak of his chair as you settled onto his lap.

choso's smile widened as he glanced up at you, then quickly leaned in to kiss your head before returning his attention to the screen. A warm flush spread across your cheeks and your lips couldn't help but curve into a delighted grin.

"choso," you prodded playfully. "you've been playing valorant since we woke up…are you sure there isn't something else you’d rather do, something more fun?" the room was filled with the glow of the computer screen, but all you wanted was some time with your boyfriend and doing something more fun than sitting inside playing video games all day.

choso let out a heavy sigh, his brow furrowing as he spoke. "i know," he said, his deep voice carrying a hint of frustration. "but listen, baby, just a couple more games and i'll get off. we can do whatever you want, okay?"

his proposal sounded intriguing, but your impatience was growing with each passing second. without much thought, you agreed to choso's request and soon found yourself removing your shorts. he didn't even notice, too focused on claiming another victory in his game.

you took a moment to study the man before you. his grey joggers were neatly tied in a knot at his waist, emphasizing the noticeable bulge beneath the cloth. your gaze traveled up to meet his intense violet eyes, which sparkled with determination as he focused on the screen in front of him. it was the same look he gave you when he pounded into you after a stressful day, leaving you breathless and wanting more.

with furtive glances around the room, you leaned forward and gently tugged at the strings of his pants, slowly pulling down both his joggers and boxers. despite your efforts to be discreet, you couldn't help but marvel at the thought of being caught. choso seemed completely oblivious, not even paying you any mind.

once his pants were low enough for you to access, you carefully adjusted yourself onto his lap and positioned yourself above his erect shaft. as you made yourself comfortable, you couldn't help but smirk at how unaware he was. how could he not notice someone pulling his pants off or feel your drenched core pressing against him?

your slick coated his length as you dragged it teasingly against him, reveling in the knowledge that anyone would have noticed such blatant actions. but choso remained blissfully unaware, lost in his own thoughts as you took control of the situation.

choso was completely lost in his video game, the bright graphics and music consuming his senses. he barely noticed when you wrapped your arms around his body, pressing yourself closer and grinding against him, small whimpers escaping your lips. it wasn't until he felt your movements become more urgent that he snapped back to reality.

he let out a low groan as he tried to focus on both the game and the pleasure you were giving him. but it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to do so. "fuck, couldn't you wait?" he strained, feeling his breath getting heavier as he rolled his hips back against yours. his vision started to blur as the sensations overtook him.

choso bit down on his lower lip, trying to hold onto his control as you moaned in his ear. "you were taking too long," you finally replied, panting slightly. the chair beneath you both creaked under your weight as your hips continued to grind against each other, the room filled with the sounds of the game and your shared desire.

as the game drew to a close, choso struggled to concentrate on finishing as your urgent movements pressed against him. the rhythm of your body, shifting from slow to fast, kept him on edge. your moans and cries drowned out the sounds of the game, overwhelming his senses.

tears glistened in your eyes, reflecting the intensity of your desire. choso's heart raced as he tried to keep up with your escalating passion. each touch and kiss was like a fire burning through his veins, igniting a deep desire within him. as the intensity grew, he found himself lost in the moment, completely consumed by you.

as the intensity grew, your mouth began to salivate, and drool escaped from your parted lips. the sensation of choso's body against yours was overwhelming, and you could feel him nearing his climax. your moans echoed in the room, mingling with his. your nails dug deeper into his back, leaving marks symbolizing this passionate moment.

just as choso reached his peak, so did you. warm liquid spurted from his tip and onto his chair and thigh, evidence of the pleasure he had experienced with you. during the aftermath, your fluids mingled with his, coating his now softened shaft. you put your head down on his shoulder, your breath hitting his skin as you tried to catch your breath.

you were about to move yourself off of choso but you felt his arm squeeze tightly around your waist. he kissed your neck and moved up to your ear. "you made me lose my game," he whispered, eyeing his computer screen that showed a death screen.

a mischievous smirk played at the corners of your lips as you looked at him, "well, i can't say i feel bad or whatever," you teased. "i think a little distraction was exactly what you needed." the air between the two of you crackled with energy as you waited for his response, ready to pounce with more playful banter. choso rolled his eyes.

“whatever. next time i’m locking you out,” choso grumbled, finally letting you get up.

⠀© vmpiires | like, reblog & follow.

[boltwrites]

logan absolutely acting like a starved man eating your pussy PLEASE i’m taking whining groaning BEGGING for you jesus christ

A/N: hello yes. also love that out of the 6 requests i received, 2 of them are about logan giving oral. we have Expectations for this man.

anyway, i'm kind of out of practice when it comes to smut, apologies lmao

By clicking read more you verify that you are at least 18 years old

"Come on-"

You stumbled back, shins colliding with the foot of the bed as you fell flat on your ass, scrabbling against the sheets to prop yourself up on your elbows. You didn't want to miss a damn second of this. It was your fault, anyway - why Logan was acting like this, why he looked like a man starved - you'd been teasing him all night. Not even subtly, like you enjoyed at times. No, this had been filthy. Scandalized. It had left him open mouthed, practically panting. Sending you hungry, sinful looks from across the room. Shifting his weight from one hip to the other as he tried to look casual adjusting his jeans. And you just kept pushing.

Well, he'd pushed back. Pushed you right through the door of your room, until your ankles smashed into the box spring and your ass hit the bed.

You couldn't help but stare at the man. His pupils were blown wide with lust, chest heaving and hair rumbled at the front, little beads of sweat gathering at his brow. If you didn't know him better, you could have mistaken it for anger, for rage -

But you knew better. You knew that look for what it really was - pure, feral lust.

He stalked forward, with all the danger and power of a predator. The door slammed behind him - when had he grabbed it? - and he didn't even bother to lock it. Trivial things like that - he didn't have time for them. Not when his gaze was locked on you.

You pressed against the rumbled bedcovers with the flat of your palms. Even if logically you knew he just wanted to fuck you, you still responded instinctually to that primal urge inside you to put distance between yourself and danger. Your heels dug into the edge of the bed, to try and crawl further back - but Logan cocked his head to the side, eyebrow raised and gaze narrowing.

"Now... where do you think you're going?"

This was about the time of the night when all your bravado flew straight out the window. All the tools you'd used so far tonight - a tactical flutter of your lashes, the drag of your instep across the seam of his jeans under the table, a filthy, depraved scene whispered against the shell of his ear - they all shattered in an instant when he finally, finally got a chance to act on those fantasies. Because you knew it would be better.

You stilled - you likely looked every bit the deer in headlights as he closed the gap between you with two measured strides, calloused hands wrapped around your calves and tugging.

You gasped, ass dragging along the bed until you were flush with the edge, Logan looming over you like an oncoming storm.

His eyes locked with yours, fingers squeezing tighter as his jaw clenched, flexing the muscles there as his gaze flit from your lashes to your lips, then, to the anxious, excited bob of your throat.

"All night whispering filthy shit in my ear and now you're speechless. That's how it goes, isn't it?" he smirked, then. A devilish, wry thing that stirred something low in your stomach.

"I-" you started, and he shook his head, nudging your knees apart with his own.

"Oh no, you don't need to start now," he chuckled, low and conspiratorial. "You just need to do what I tell you to. Take your pants off."

Oh god. You shivered - you recognized that tone, the glint in his eye. You'd pushed him just far enough for this - for a side of him you only glimpsed on the rarest of occasions.

Usually, when you teased him, he'd rip his shirt off and toss you onto the bed, tug your hair and handle you with that sweet, rough touch. You craved from from him, when he'd been gone for too long or you'd been too caught up in your own work to care for either of your needs.

Rarely, you'd push some invisible button and he'd channel that energy into torturing you with the concept of pleasure - nudging you to the precipice of release and pulling you back over and over and over until there were tears running down your cheeks and it was all you could do to cry his name, beg for that release.

But this - this was more. You'd pressed further, led Logan through the thralls of insatiable carnal desire and set him down just beyond that. Here, the heat of his own desire had been dulled as you teased and taunted and smirked, denying him the attention he needed over and over until the craving for his own release had been pruned, supplanted with the bone-deep hunger for your pleasure, to leave you ruined, so drunk on his touch that you'd wonder why you would have ever chosen social norms over his fingers, his tongue, his cock.

Obviously, you played this game because you were a gambler. Rolling the dice hoping you'd come across the very same looking in his eye you were staring at in this exact moment.

Jackpot.

You nodded - hands shaking with anticipation as you unlatched the button of your jeans, unfurled the zipper after. You sat eye level with his belt buckle, the denim below it straining with how hard he was for you. Maybe if you just reached out and -

"Off," he hissed. He was in control here. You'd had that chance earlier tonight, and you'd squandered it on dirty talk with no destination, no point or purpose.

You obeyed his request instead - slid your hands under your clothes, wiggling your way out of everything that covered you -

And Logan fell to his knees - no grace, no poise as he gathered the fabric that had pooled around your ankles and threw it to the far side of the room, eyes dark and determined.

Oh, was he -

He clawed at your thighs, your ass - dragged you to the edge of the bed before he splayed his hands flat against your thighs, strong fingers spreading open your legs as his focus narrowed down to the slick mess you'd become.

Oh, fuck.

He breathed, ragged - shoulders shaking as took a last, gasping breath before he dove into you.

You cried out - how could you not, as his nails dug against the flesh of your ass, damn near lifting your hips off the bed. You fell back, spine arching as his sideburns scraped the sensitive skin on the inside of your thighs, at the junction of your legs and core. But that was nothing compared to his tongue - the tongue he use to carve his way inside you, lapping at you like you were all that could sustain him. It massaged you from the inside out, laving along your walls like some insane perversion of a kiss.

You keened into his touch - tried to use what little leverage you had to roll your hips against his lips - only to be stopped by his fierce hold on your ass, your thighs. It was all you could do to dig your nails into the sheets, your other hand threading through his hair and scraping along his scalp, tangling in those tresses and tugging, as if you could bury him inside you like this.

And he did his damndest. He was ravenous - you couldn't tell through your own cries of pleasure, but you could have sworn you heard him growl. He kissed and suckled against you, pressing himself ever closer -

And you keened as his nose grazed against your clit, thighs shaking with need as his eyes - that had previous been closed in reverent, absolute focus - snapped open to find your own as he leaned against that hand in his hair, and ground his nose to your throbbing clit.

You damn near screamed, bucking against his lips, his vice-like grip on your hips, his damn nose - as he all but nuzzled you to completion, drinking in your release like a fine wine even as you twitched and gasped for air in his hold.

But he wasn't anywhere near done. The noise he made as he dragged his tongue out of your folds was absolutely obscene, and you damn near sobbed at how, even though you'd just come, you still ached for him.

And he knew it. He hummed - low, pleased, as he removed a hand from your shaking thigh to trail through the wet mess he'd left, teasing them just at the edge of your entrance so you could feel every ridge of his callouses. The texture of those fingers had a soft, desperate noise leaving your lips as he finally dipped them into you - so slow that you could sob from it.

And you did sob - more like you screamed when hot breath washed over your clit, followed by the flat drag of a tongue.

"Fuck! Logan-!" You cried, thighs clenching around his jaw, heels digging into his back. You didn't know if you wanted to pull him closer or kick him square in that adamantine skull. You squeezed around his fingers, tight and needy, but that attention on your oversensitive clit sent sparks of pleasure-pain up your spine, your core flexing as you tried to take it.

But that was the thing - he knew you could take it. Knew that with his fingers inside you, with his lips wrapped around your clit, that soon that little flicker of pain would fade to crashing, blinding pleasure. He knew you loved it when he ate you out like this - lapped against your clit, sucked it until you were spiraling over again. That the first round was just a test to see how easily he could get you off. He had you now. And he wasn't letting you go.

He hummed against you, tongue narrowing to a point as he curled it around your clit, peppering you with sloppy kisses as he worked you through the sparking fire of too much, too soon. His fingers helped to calm the sting - he massaged against your walls, rocking in and out until he found that spot inside you with a slightly altered resistance, and then he set to work.

His free hand vacated your hip. Instead, he splayed it low across your stomach as he curled those fingers inside you. You cried his name - needy and desperate as he somehow managed to make two fingers feel like so much more.

All that, even while those circles he was drawing with his tongue tightened, adjusting to the way your hand pressed over his on your stomach, how the fingers curled in his hair loosened just slightly, drifted lover to scratch along the scruff of his jaw as you relaxed under him, until the little jitters of that muscle in your thigh were few and far between.

Then he wrapped his lips around you and sucked.

You screamed - actually, truly screamed his name. Your hips jolted, your nails dug into his skin as his tongue ravished you, cheeks hollowed as he worked you over like a practiced musician at his preferred instrument. His fingers curled - oh god, when had he added a third - and your back arched, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes as the pleasure overwhelmed you.

It wasn't frantic and ever present, like your first orgasm - that had been simple work after a night of teasing, of purposeful denial. That had been a foregone conclusion. But this - this was careful, calculated, expert - and the pleasure built like floodwater against a dam, as he worked you just so he knew when you did come, your vision would blur at the edges and you'd shake apart harder than anything else.

His fingers curled, his wrist snapped as he thrust them into you, as his palm flattened against your stomach, his tongue flicked over your clit, his lips so tight, so perfect -

You don't remember what you screamed. It might have been his name, it might have been a plea for mercy - or maybe it was just a scream.

No matter what it was, he worked you through it with his tongue, his fingers, his lips.

And when you blinked up at him, bleary, corner of your mouth wet with either spit or tears - you caught that look. That feral look.

He wasn't done with you. Not even close.

[evie-sturns]

"fuck off" - Matt Sturniolo

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summary: matts ice-hockey team has a rough loss, you try to comfort matt after the game but he snaps at you.

warnings: fighting, swearing, angst, SMUT.

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another goal to the other team. matt's team was getting destroyed by the opposition and he was not having it, "what the fuck are you on ref?" matt shouts at the referee as he skates away. BUZZ the buzzer signalling the end of the match echos throughout the arena and i instantly turn to nick, whos sitting next to me on the bleachers "hey nick im gonna go find matt alright?" i say to nick as i gather my things and speed-walk towards the changing rooms.

i wait outside the mens changing room for 10 minutes until the doors swing open, "matt.. hey, you alright?" i say looking at him but he just pushes past me and out of the facility, into the parking lot. i quickly chase after him as he storms towards the car "matt?" i call out as i catch up to him and he swing around to face me "just fuck off y/n, ive had a shit day and your annoying ass isn't helping." matt growls at me as he looks down at me. my eyes widen and my eyebrows furrow, the uncomfortable silence grows, i shake it off temporarily and grab his bicep "matt i know your angry, but please dont talk to me like that." i say gently trying to calm him down "ill talk to you how i want" he snaps back then pushes me off him, opens the door to the car and climbs in in a huff.

i look around to try see if nicks coming, but i assume he's getting a ride home with chris so i open the door to the passenger side and quickly climb in. matt starts to drive forward as soon i shut the door and the rest of the drive is silent apart from a few grunts from matt.

we pull into the driveway and matt instantly turns off the car, grabs his hockey back and gets out of the car, stomping up to the house and letting himself in, not even bothering to look back. why is he acting like this, its just one loss?

after a few minutes of attempting to calm my anger down and failing, i get out of the car and slam the car door shut behind me and running up to the house. matts locked himself in the bathroom so i run into our bedroom, and push the door shut behind me. i change out of my thermals into a matching brandy melville pyjama set and i crawl into bed.

after 45 minutes of scrolling on my phone i hear a soft few knocks on the door to the bedroom and i sigh quietly and ignore it. 3 more gentle knocks. i realise hes not planning on going away so i mumble "come in."

the door pushes open and matts face peeks in, he comes into the room in silence and lays down on the bed next to me, flat on his back. i roll over away from him to face the wall, and i can hear the soft clicking noise of matt biting his nails. i feel 1 warm hand on my shoulder which rolls me over onto my back. matt rolls onto his side to face me and he looks me in my eyes. "im so sorry y/n" he says calmly and quietly but i stay silent. "i didnt mean anything i said, and i was a total dick. i dont know if you knew but that game was the decider if i got a scholarship, and i totally fucked it up." he continues, "a-and i was so mad at myself, that i took it out on everyone, like in the locker room i was cussing everyone out, and im not proud of it, at all" matt says, "and now i dont know if im gonna get the scholarship and im so fucking stressed, but i am truly sorry on what i said." he groans. "close your eyes matt." i say softly and his eyebrows furrow out of confusion "huh?" he says, definitely not expecting that response. "trust me" i say again, with a smirk playing at my lips and he squeezes his eyes shut.

i shimmy my way down to the middle of the bed, right next to matts lap. i silently pull my tank top off and place it beside me as pull down matts sweatpants down slightly, almost letting his cock spring out and his breath instantly hitches "fuck. please.." he groans as he balls up his fisted and rubs both of his eyes. i see his bulge grow bigger. i plant gentle kisses on his clothed bulge as he whimpers desperately, "matt, i am about to suck your cock until you cum down my throat, and if you open your eyes, i will stop." i say softly, taking control of the situation and he nods "okay- fuck yeah okay" he says frantically nodding. i pull down his sweatpants all the way and his cock springs out onto his stomach, his tip is the exact shade of his lips and is leaking precum. I lick my lips and grab his shaft, only putting the tip in my mouth, he lets out a long groan and pushes his hair back with his tattooed arm. I suck his tip gently then take it out of my mouth, and he whines. "patience matthew" i giggle and then trail my tongue from his balls up the long vein going up his dick. "please.. let me fuck you oh my fuck-" he groans quietly and thats enough for me to take his whole length in my mouth, bobbing my head quickly up and down. i quickly take my mouth off him after a few minutes and his eyes stay shut. hes so stimulated that he doesnt even notice me crawling ontop of him and hovering above his tip. he lets out a soft moan and i sink down onto his length. "what the f-" he gasps quietly and his eyes spring open to look at me. his hands instantly grip my hips and push me down further onto him "good girl." he groans as he pulls me up and down on his cock "fuck- so tight" he growls out as he goes faster "close-" i warn and he guides me up and down faster.

i let out an almost pornographic scream as i orgasm all over his cock. "fuck-" he stammers as he cums inside of me. i collapse onto his chest with him still buried inside of me. he holds my ass gently as he catches his breath "you're so perfect you know?" he whispers into my ear and i groan into his ear. "you want me to.. you know pull out..?" he says embarrassed.

"not really honestly"

"oh.. do you forgive me?"

"after that orgasm, yeah."

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hoooottttt anyways leave requests, they can be anon!! theres a little button on my page.

hope yall liked this!!

[ivesambrose]

Heard the astro weather of March is supposed to be intense but I don't want to perpetuate that. I intend that you still make the best of it regardless of circumstances.

So I did something new for change 🤍

Have a good month ahead retrogrades or not xx

To book a personalized reading with me in regards to the coming months or any query you have in mind dm or email me at ivesambrose@gmail.com

Click here for services offered

Tips are appreciated 🧡

Picture 1

For you,

March whispers secrets to those who listen.

This month, you stand at the edge of knowing. You might find yourself looking through a hazy veil initially but it won't mean that you're being blinded. Will you trust what you feel before you see?

Your intuition will sharpen and dreams will whisper answers.

You will have no other choice but to nurture yourself from within. Be it eliminating certain foods or fluids or adding them. You will also be reminded that growth is quiet before it flourishes. Something within you (an idea, a love, a version of yourself) will begin to blossom into fullness.

You'll feel as though some event has cleansed your path, there will be a reckoning that brings clarity. What was once uncertain will its rightful balance. Whether you believe in karma or not it feels as though a karmic justice will play out for you.

You shall be offered emotional steadiness, either from someone or it will come within yourself. A sense of emotional maturity. You'll find yourself being less reactive or in simple terms 'less crash outs over circumstances'.

Where once there was confusion, there is now control. You hold your heart like an anchor soft yet unwavering.

Subconsciously, you're being asked to dance with change. March brings shifts, but they do not shake you. They will teach you rhythm instead. You will juggle choices, emotions, and revelations, but you will not longer feel lost.

What does March bring?

A deepening. An unfolding. A knowing. This is the month your soul speaks, and for once, you listen.

Picture 2

For you,

March arrives like a storm and a sunrise all at once.

Spring cradles you in abundance and here I want to remind you, where you focus dominantly, whatever it is, will see an increase. Remind yourself this each time you find yourself wavering to a thought that feels unfavorable.

You'll find your mind being sharp as well.

You'll also learn to establish firm boundaries. I feel as though some of you may have been feeling like their authority is being challenged or are being subtly bullied, I want to remind you that you will emerge victorious not those attempting to dim your glow. They feel threatened by that's their problem to solve, not yours.

There's softness and steel, both alive within you. And you see that clearly now, even if that clarity isn't necessarily comfortable.

You will be shown the knots of your own making, fears that have kept you still. But March is not a month for stagnation for you.

You will surge forward confidently. It is important to hold your ground if you believe in something even if it's just you. You might consider travelling or make plans for the same this may not be a short distance travel either.

This month, whatever falls was never your foundation. Let it crumble, and you will find yourself standing stronger. It's okay.

At the root of it all, I'm seeing you build a wealthy foundation for yourself. Instead of slaving away for money, learn to harness it for what it is that is, energy.

What does March bring?

A breaking. A building. A reclamation. This is the month you take your power back.

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For you,

March turns the wheel.

The tides shift

where you were once waiting, now momentum sweeps you forward. You'll find yourself being aligned with destined moments. A lot of quick confident decisions or communication will take place. I feel some of you might be musically inclined and this month will be significant when it comes to that. Since it's a general reading I can't be too specific but music plays a crucial role for you this month be it literally or symbolically.

Be mindful of what you tell yourself as well as the media you consume. You can feel a certain emotion but not make it a part of yourself.

Your once empty cup will overflow, offering love, renewal, or a heart cracked open in the best way.

Your desired business or career will begin to flourish as well. Expect wealth. A good amount of it. Beautify yourself and your surroundings please. Your environment plays a very important role in attracting what you seek and becoming who you desire to be.

I want to remind you that your patience has not been in vain. You are moving forward now, with no hesitation. You are ready.

At the core, this month reminds you that good things take root in time, it's already inevitable so why worry? What you have sown begins to bear fruit.

What does March bring?

A turning. A revelation. A harvest. This is the month your patience meets its reward.