#and how he just keeps his head down and silently grinds every. single. game but someone else will always get the glory

[eyes-above--the-waves]

Mitch Marner remains the only person on this team.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

almost sweet music

words: 900

warnings: 18+ only, smut, thigh job, clit rubbing, brief tit play, childhood friends to lovers, kinda somnophilia?

your eyes are open, but they might as well be closed as you look at nothing but pure darkness. you shift ever so slightly, pressing further into rafes hold.

it's not the first time you've shared a bed. he's been your friend for years, and you used to have sleepovers every weekend before your bodies developed and it became awkward.

you would still occasionally fall asleep in rafes bed, usually when the movie he picked to watch was too boring, or when you were waiting around for him and ended up taking a nap enveloped in his scent.

tonight is different. even when you share a bed, rafe never cuddles so close to you like this. yeah, you'll wake up with your head on his chest or a leg slung over his, but rafe is pressed right against your back.

his chest is rising and falling in a steady rhythm, but you can't tell for certain if he's asleep or just relaxed having you against him.

you close your eyes, relaxing back into his hold. his soft breath fans over your shoulder, barely covered by your tank top strap.

you're about to fall asleep when you feel something poking you. your eyes open again, wider this time as rafes hip press forward.

his obvious erection grinds against your ass, slow movements fooling you into believing rafe must be asleep still, body acting on its own, much like yours does when you seek him out in your sleep.

rafe let's out a soft moan, then a mumble of your name, and now you're certain he must be awake since you've never heard him sleep talk before.

his hips begin to move faster, like he's testing out how far he can take it before you wake up. how much movement will it take for you to stir, testing how much he can get away with.

you stiffen for a brief moment before relaxing again. you squeeze your eyes shut as you try to keep your breathing regular. you don't want rafe to stop. 

to others, it's been a clear (and long) game you've been playing, both pining after each other while claiming to just be best friends. this is the first time rafe has shown any clear evidence to you of his sexual attraction. what you don't see is his longing looks whenever your back is turned, or the way he's quick to go after any guy who looks at you for a little too long.

you let out a silent curse in your head. of course he's only doing this because he thinks your asleep as he moves faster against you, barriers of fabric in the way but not stopping his light moans, almost sweet music against your ears.

you wonder how long he's been pushing up against you before it woke you up. you consider your options. sit here silently, let him cum in his pants, or take action, show you're awake, and change your life forever.

you're done with the game as you reach down, startling rafe as he lets out a curse, but you simply pull your shorts down along with your underwear, revealing your bare ass as you spread your thighs, pussy on show and already starting to get wet.

you wait for rafe to continue. when it's clear he won't, you reach behind your back to pull his cock out of his pajama pants.

rafe follows your motions, taking your lead and going as far as you will allow as you rub his cock through your folds before closing your thighs around him.

“keep going.” you say. 

the words is all the encouragement rafe needs as he begins to thrust, the slick between your thighs growing as he pushes against you.

a hand that was holding you close to him travels to your pussy, rubbing you with a single finger, the pad rough against your sensitive clit.

the sound of slapping skin is a telltale sign of what is happening in the dark, as rafes hips meet your ass with every thrust.

you long for him to press into your cunt, but you know you need to have an actual discussion about what this is before allowing him to fuck you properly. the thighs will have to do.

rafe rubs faster, with a clear purpose as his cock swells. you can tell he's not far off, and the pure excitement from finally being with rafe also has your high growing.

you press further into his chest as your thighs squeeze together as tight as you can force them, letting out a moan when rafe spills, cum spurting through the gap onto the bed sheet.

he leaves his cock to soften between your legs as his finger keeps working on you, free hand coming to grab your chest over your shirt, hand possessively gripping your tits until your back arches, a strangled moan leaving your lips as you cum.

rafes hands disappear from off of you. you turn to face him, but can't see his expression.

“im-im sorry.” his words are enough for you to pinpoint where his mouth is as you lean in, pressing your lips together in a heated kiss.

“we can talk about it in the morning.” you say, tucking yourself back into his side. “we will cuddle and sleep and be in a much clearer headspace.”

rafe hesitates for a second before pressing a kiss to the top of your head, a soft smile on his face as your breathing returns to normal, not allowing himself to fall asleep until he hears your gentle snores.

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[hoonslutt]

NSFW Link!!

Lee Heeseung:

Heeseung didn’t like to be disturbed or distracted when he is gaming, you knew that did you care? Not really, you didn’t care that when you were sitting in his lap face in his neck, and your heat grinding down on him slowly. You didn’t care that he told you many times to knock it off, you didn’t even care when he smacked your ass as a warning. But as soon as he paused the game and picked you up walking to the bed and throwing you down on it flipping you over on your stomach you cared a little, you were excited and nervous to say the least. ‘You want to act like a whore and not listen to me when I told you to stop’ taking (more like ripping) off your panties ‘Now your gonna get fucked like a whore and your gonna take everything I give you’ smacking your ass once again and grabbing his controller ‘Yes hee’

Park Jongseong:

You love your bf, you do! But you just wish that he would stop treating you like you are about to break, like some delicate flower just because he is a little bigger than most. Every time you guys have sex he liked keeping a slow pace, and there’s nothing wrong with it but it’s just kinda not doing it for you. So you have been trying to find a way to bring it up to him, well one day he comes home and you could tell he is a little irritated and your thinking okay maybe if he can get mad enough then he can show some toughness. ‘Jay?’ And now here you are finally getting what you wanted he is giving you the roughness you wanted and you are for sure you are losing your mind. ‘Is this what you wanted? Wanted to take it? Wanted to be choked? My little dirty slut’ his hand going around your neck and squeezing just the right amount he started to go a little faster and you eyes were rolling into the back of your head.

Jake Sim:

You are in total bliss right now, your bf jake hitting all the right places with just his fingers. You were so glad that you bet him that he couldn’t make you cum with just his fingers. ‘I so can make you cum, hell I’d even make you squirt baby.’ Looking at you straight in the eye while hitting his lip, rolling your eyes ‘Yeah right sim in your dreams’ his smirk slowly faded ‘Are you ready to be proven wrong babygirl?’ He got up taking your hand in his and made his way to the room. Now here you are trying to keep your moans down to not give Jake the satisfaction of being right, you were doing good that was until Jake curled his fingers upwards and hit a new spot, it also didn’t help that he was changing speeds like crazy. Your moans coming out like nothing now the bet long gone forgotten in your head.

Park Sunghoon:

You knew that sunghoon could be possessive over you and he would get a little crazy when you would hang out with heeseung or Jake. He knew that they were his friends and that they would never try anything on you knowing that your his. But there was something about the way Heeseung was hugging and touching you, to anyone else it was just a normal pat in the back but to sunghoon it was something else. So maybe he wasn’t thinking right when he pulled you by the arm out of the dorm, already making your way to your apartment all you could do was stay silent because you had no idea what was wrong with him. He wasted no time in getting you into your room by the way he practically threw you over his shoulder as soon as you got out of the car. Plopping you down on the soft sheets cupping your cheeks and sinisterly smirking at you ‘Did you like having Heeseungs attention? Did you forget who you belong to?’ Trying your best as you could not to whimper right there you shook your head no ‘Well maybe I need to remind you again? Yea?’

I just want to say thank you for 500 followers I am so happy that you guys love my work so much enough to follow me! literally love every single one you guys! You guys don’t know how lucky and grateful I am for everyone who followed me!😣😣

[bloodyserb]

Half of the escalators at the mall are shrieking and moaning like wounded animals, the other half are barricaded off and broken entirely.  The random distribution of escalators that have died versus those that are only wounded has turned the mall into a challenging maze, like something right out of a Resident Evil video game.  If this was Resident Evil, let’s say a PS2 era version, after I entered the mall and stood by the railing we would switch to a cut scene boom shot that would zoom out over the railing and reverse to show my position before tilting down to show the shoe store that I need to get to three floors down.  The shoe store is directly beneath me, and in pre apocalyptic times a direct route would only require stepping from one down escalator directly onto the next, but this is the now times. Civilization is crumbling all around us and nowhere is that fact written more largely than in the mall.

 My companion and I make our way to the opposite end of the floor we’re on to check out the escalator situation on that end.  Along the way we pass a different shoe store and she suggests that I go inside to take a look, but I know better.  I only have about enough gas in the tank for a single social interaction and I’m not about to give it up this early in the game.  As we approach I can see the sales guy start to stir, triggered by our motion.  I quickly doge to the side so I can see the shoes through the glass.  There’s nothing I want in there, and the glass proves to be an effective anti-sales barrier.

 Rounding the corner I can see that the down escalator is still turning on this side, I just need to make it past the food court to get there.  There are only two places still operating inside the food court, Umi Chicken and Thai Chicken.  I’m pretty sure there is no difference between the two, so I’m puzzled as to how this came to be, but here we are.  Umi chicken has posted a sample guy, Thai chicken can’t be bothered, and as we pass he lunges at us with a toothpick.  “Sample?” he says.   My companion and I simultaneously point to our mouths and silently speak the word “gum” like we’d rehearsed it.  The sample guy nods like he understands and returns to his position in the shadows.  He’s smiling politely as he does so, but there’s nothing behind those eyes.  He checked out this morning the moment he clocked in.

 We descend to the second floor, mechanical bits beneath us shuddering and grinding the whole way. The mall has recently changed hands and I’m starting to get the feeling that the new owners aren’t paying the maintenance bills.  This space is huge and you can feel the second law of thermodynamics pushing in from every corner.  If it can nip away at the tendons connecting the floors it won’t be long before the mall is brought down by the weight of its own bloated body and finds its throat in the drooling maw of entropy.

 Predictably, the down escalator from the second to the first floor isn’t working on this end, so we must reverse course and head all the way back to the opposite side.  My companion suggests that we try to find the elevator she thinks is hidden in the back of Macy’s.  If she’s right, and it’s working this could save us a lot of time, but if she’s wrong that could mean we’ll have to double back again, or worse yet, we could get stuck in the Macy’s elevator, possibly forever.  I decide to keep walking.  I can’t risk it when we’re already halfway there, and besides that my companion is really stoned and cannot possibly grasp the gravity of the situation we are in.

 The trip across the second floor is mostly uneventful.  We do spy another shoe store, but this time it is on the other side of the mall. The open space in the middle of the floor is filled by deflated Christmas ornaments that hang limply from the ceiling and shield us from view.  I can see that the shoes I am after aren’t in there either and the sales guy never even suspects that his inventory has been perused.

 One more dodgy escalator ride to go and we’re there.  This time it’s going smoothy until we’re about halfway down.  Our poor mechanical animal lets out a howl like it’s been caught in a leg trap.  The fingers of my left hand seize the railing hard, and my right hand reaches up to cover my ear.  Surely this can’t be it?  We were so close.  Were we supposed to take the elevator after all?  But it’s ok.  The howling subsides and we’re delivered gently to the first floor.  As I step off, I’m passed by a tightly bound nuclear family on their way up.  They’re looking around excitedly and speaking to each other in what sounds like a Scandinavian language.  These cheerful looking people can’t have come here to shop.  Each one of the brightly colored down jackets they’re wearing probably cost more than my mortgage payment.  It makes more sense that they’re disaster tourists, come here to explore the wreckage of the 20th century.

 The first-floor shoe store is probably the last business here with any life left in it.  It’s so clean, well lit and well stocked, that it feels like I’ve briefly stepped back in time.  I try to relax and browse casually like we used to do when we were young, and the mall was new.  It takes some effort at first, but it helps that some of the new old stock shoes are so incredibly dated.  I hold one pair in my hand that make me wish I could still go across the hall and buy the matching 8-Ball jacket to go with them.

 After four blissful aisles of strolling, I see them, the shoes I have been looking for, the ones from my dream.  Impossible to miss with their bright colors, they might as well be glowing and hovering like a save spot crystal.  There are three pairs of them on the shelf and my size is printed right on the box in the middle of the stack.  The moment I pick it up I feel that the weight of the box is off, a quick check shows that the weight of all the boxes is.  This is a one shoe in the box kind of store, a reminder of our current reality that snaps me back to the present day like an overstretched rubber band. The final challenge is here, but that’s ok because as you may recall I have been hoarding my ability to socially interact like a health pack before the final boss. My companion goes off on a side quest to find the NPC who knows where the other shoe is and returns with both the necessary human and the shoe only moments later.  Once the fit is confirmed, and the shoes photographed for Instagram, I make my way to the front where I expend the very last of my energy making idle chit chat while the payment goes through.

 The return to the car in the parking lot is smooth and unremarkable, because of course everything works fine in the other direction.  No game designer is going to waste a bunch of time writing stuff to take place after the final battle.

 Tl;dr:  I got new sneaks yesterday.

[thesolferino]

Touchdown

⤷ dream x f!reader.

⤷ genre: smut, minors please keep scrolling!

⤷ word count: 3.2k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon

— summary: clay loses a football game, and while he’s already mad, you decide to rile him up even more.

“God fucking damnit.”

Clay muttered, pulling his helmet off and slamming it against one of the benches as he said the last word, making you almost jump as you quietly trailed along behind him, feet following in his footsteps. He ran a sweaty hand through his hair, wiping beads of sweat off the sides of his face as he moved towards his locker, carelessly hanging the helmet in its place as he huffed a frustrated sigh.

The locker room was empty, no traces of anyone’s belongings left, as Clay took his sweet time yelling and arguing with the coach after he instructed the rest of the team to change and get out of his sight; everyone had left before he even reached the lockers. The game hadn’t ended well for his team - the game tied, and he was feeling confident, patting their center, Nick, on the back in encouragement, shooting a pearly smile to those who cheered them on and filled the bleachers. They played overtime, and a coin was tossed, during which his team ultimately lost. Looking back on it in the pessimistic state that he was in now, throwing the towel he used to wipe his face at the wall, that should’ve been the first sign it wouldn’t end well. 

The other team scored one final touchdown in the last three minutes of the game, the crowd’s cheers and protests mixing as the opposing team’s points shot up by six, leaving them victorious by one single point and Clay upset, pent up rage and bitterness stuck inside his body with nowhere to go now that the game was over and balls couldn’t be thrown. He stayed arguing with the coach for longer than he should have, even though he simply refused to budge. You’d managed to come down from the bleachers just in time to see him hold back a curse and speedwalk towards the lockers, following close behind, not even daring to call out his name.

“Damnit!” he shouted again, sitting down on the bench, running both of his hands through his hair fervently, huffing out large exhales every time they moved back and forth. The rest of his gear was still on despite coming here specifically to change - his jersey was still draped over his large shoulder pads and chest, one glove on and the other chucked at the wall as well as the towel, shorts and knee pads in place, too. You carefully reached out to place a warm hand on his shoulder, at least giving him some type of assurance, hoping it would calm the fire that burnt in him, mighty and frantic, at least a little. 

It seems to do nothing, though, and the fire in him just keeps growing taller and stronger, flames licking farther up his throat, seconds away from escaping, burning him to ashes.

They do exactly that - they engulf his entire body, and for the split second that his gaze catches yours, you can see his eyes glint with flames, before he stands up so quickly it makes you dizzy, and presses his lips to yours hungrily. His fire engulfed you, spreading through you like an infectious disease, warmness swarming you from head to toe as he pulled you closer to him by the waist, leaving fiery fingerprints everywhere his hands touched you like hot coal.

He grunted into your kiss as he walked forward, backing you into the wall. The kiss was so unruly, so much more dizzying than any of the delicate ones you’d share in your bedroom - it was forceful, daring, scratchy, and when both of his rough arms wrapped themselves around your waist and he murmured: “Jump.” into your mouth, you knew you weren’t leaving that room without bruises. 

Despite being aware of that, though, you couldn’t help but test his dominance, at least a little bit. Being bratty was second nature; after all, you were the air to his fire. When you blew strong enough, you could calm it down, but when you blew however you pleased, you’d ignite it more intensely than any gasoline ever could. And you couldn’t take the fire out this time, so you might as well fuel it to the best of your abilities. 

“I don’t want to. And take off the uniform, you’re not gonna fuck me with those shoulder pads on.” 

He pulled away, staying close enough to your face so you could feel every riled exhale, enough so you could see his jaw clench and green eyes boring into yours so madly that you almost cowered under his gaze - however, you persisted. There was really no reason to answer like that, and both of you knew it, but you wanted to toy with him, have him earn your submission, no matter if he’s pissed out of his mind or not. In hindsight, that may have not been a good idea, and you realised that the longer he said nothing and stared at you in pure anger, but there’s no going back now, is there?

“I’ll fuck you however I want.” Clay muttered through gritted teeth. “And you’ll like it no matter what.”

With that, his arms were back around your hips, lifting you off the ground as if you weighed nothing, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist when he pushed you to lean against the wall. His lips were glued back onto yours in no time, your hand automatically darting to bury itself in his hair and pull, his fingers on your hips so tight they’d surely leave red marks. His lips left yours and you almost whined but held back when they moved to your neck, barely wasting any time before biting down on it, earning a gasp from you that you foolishly hoped he didn’t hear despite knowing there’s no way he missed it. He sucked on it, hard, to the point that you knew there’s no way it could be any shade other than dark, dark purple in a couple days’ time. 

He set you down briefly, and you did your best to try and hide how impatient and upset you were getting, but he grabbed the hem of his jersey and pulled it up, tossing it to the side before getting rid of the shoulder pads as well, your eyes swerving over his sweaty, naked chest as he silently raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to do the same. You did nothing except lift your gaze back to Clay’s and stare at him with no emotion whatsoever.

“Take it off.” He commanded, gaze switching between your chest and eyes, waiting for you impatiently. You exhaled through your nose, just short of a chuckle.

“Do it yourself.” You shot back, seeing him cock his head to the side in an attempt to compose himself and flush down the anger, despite knowing it won’t work. 

“You’re so fucking annoying.” He scowled, hands immediately grabbing at your shirt and pulling it off, fingers quick on your back, fiddling with the clasp of your bra. 

“And yet you still wanna fuck me like a dog in heat.” You retorted when the clasp loosened and he pulled the fabric down your arms, pressing another hungry kiss to your lips while he rolled one of your nipples through his fingers.

“You think you’ll still be talking to me like this when you’re begging me to cum and I say no?” Clay whispers in your ear right before his mouth moves down to circle his tongue around your other nipple, and neither of you fail to notice the goosebumps that cover your whole body. You don’t even get to manage a word out, syllables falling back into your throat when you swallow upon feeling his hands sneak themselves under your skirt, gripping your thighs. 

“With how she’s talking, I’m sure my little brat isn’t wet right now. Right?” you feel your heart speed up when his hand moves a little further to the right and runs his fingers over your damp panties, brushing over your opening, fingers barely ghosting your clit. His pointer finger catches onto the fabric and pushes the underwear aside, leaving space for his middle finger to feel the juices that pour out of you, his touch feeling incredibly cold against your heat, feeling the tips of his fingers coat themselves in you before pulling away. His eyes meet yours paired with a smug smirk that you’ll never get to erase out of your memory.

“Oops.” he grins. “Seems like I was wrong.”

And then, when you least expect it, his fingers shove themselves in you, eliciting a muffled whimper, legs stumbling backwards to lean on the wall again when they start pumping in and out, lewd noises deafening you as you feel drops of wetness slipping down your thighs. He still persistently works his fingers inside your underwear, thumb sneaking inside too to rub at your clit, and that’s when he pushes a moan out of you, a sign of defeat - music to his ears. You can’t help it, can’t help any of it when it feels so good, when every time his wet finger brushes against your clit it sends a jolt through your whole body, your own hands twitching at the movement. 

Your whole body sets aflame, head blazing, sweat escaping through strands of your hair the longer he keeps going, fingers stuffed in you, thrusting in and out like it’s his last, pushing you towards your orgasm more and more. Sure enough, your stomach starts twisting and your abdomen coils, something inside you pushing you off the walls as you arch more and more and grind into his unrelenting fingers. 

“Cl-Clay… fuck, I’m-!” just as the words pass your lips, his fingers pull out, and the pleasure is entirely gone, ripped away from your hands as you stare up at him, feeling betrayed. Your hands instinctively move to your heat, as if of their own free will, but he grabs at your wrist before they make it to their destination.

“Don’t you dare. You come when I say so. I think I’ve made that very fucking clear, haven’t I?” Both of you know he’s stripped you of your brattiness when you say nothing, just swallow to mend your dry throat and quietly nod - you hate it, he loves it.

Clay pulls his shorts and underwear down his legs, and that’s when you realise you’re finally getting what you’ve been waiting for, so you hook your fingers around the waistband and pull your panties down, stepping out of them when you notice his cock, finally free and painfully throbbing as he strokes himself a few times. His eyes catch sight of the way you practically drool watching him, and he does nothing but scoff before your eyes meet.

“Get on the bench. All fours.” He commands and you comply, climbing onto one of them, arms and legs trembling where you place them.

“Watch your balance. I won’t be slow.” Clay says, guiding his cock into you, slowly pushing the tip inside as you hold your breath, waiting for him to just get on with it, already plenty stretched from the way his fingers fucked you open just seconds before.

“Won’t you now?” You murmur in irritation, words escaping you before you can even rationalise the fact that they won’t do you any good right now. “If you can’t play good, at least try to fuck me good.” 

He stopped in his tracks and you froze, only realising that you may have crossed the line after the words were already long out of your mouth, and you opened it to apologise, but didn’t even get to inhale properly when he suddenly buried himself in you to the hilt, almost tearing you apart when his hips collide with yours and you let out a pained yelp, his cock stretching you out ten times more than his fingers had.

You felt his whole hand wrap itself around your throat before he pulled you up by it, pressing his lips close to your ear so you could hear every last breath of his.

“You know I play as good as I fuck - and best believe, I’ll fuck that brat out of you.” Clay growled into your ear before pushing you back down, not even giving you time to grip the bench before pulling out and thrusting back in with a low groan, setting a fast pace from the start.

You bit down on your lip with more and more force with every thrust - he filled you to the hilt every time, and you were sure you were drawing blood by now, a slight metallic taste coating your tongue from how hard you were holding back your moans. You were absolutely not gonna let him fuck the brat out of you.

He kept pumping into you wildly, pace brutal and unforgiving, and it took everything in you to be as quiet as possible, but then you felt a cold finger carefully rub at your sensitive clit, and you couldn’t hold it back anymore, a loud moan getting pushed out of your throat.

“Fuck! Clay…” you whimpered, trying to stabilise yourself on your shaky arms but barely succeeding because the more he pumped inside of you, the more it felt like he was forcing every thought in your brain out, replacing it with only him and his name. The hand gripping your hips left them, grabbing your hair into a makeshift ponytail and pulling it whenever he thrusted back in, making you hiss out in a sick mix of pleasure and pain.

“F-Fuck, I…” your throat ran dry from how fast and ragged your breathing stayed - it felt like he was going faster and faster every second.

“This good enough for you, princess?” he exaggerated, mocking you, a little out of breath himself as he pushed farther and farther, thumb never leaving your clit. You swallowed, not able to give him a proper response besides dumbed down words and broken syllables. He angled himself a little different with the next thrust, which made him dive into a spot he hadn’t touched before, making you see stars as you let out a huge gasp, grabbing at his arm that pulled on your hair in a blind attempt to ground yourself.

“R-Right there… fuck, please don’t-don’t stop!” you cried out, a new wave of heat flooding your entire body as he kept hitting the same spot over and over again, making you blind, white imprinted behind your eyelids. Your brain, along with any rational thoughts turned off completely, leaving you with nothing but moans and gasps of his name and how scarily good his cock felt in you.

You felt your climax creeping up on you, slowly but surely, the heat from every part of your body accumulating in the pit of your stomach, feeling the knot ready to come undone any second now. You clenched around him painfully, unable to help the spasms, seconds away from orgasm to the point you could practically taste it. It seemed like Clay could taste it, too, because he slowed down, thrusting into you lazily, like he hadn’t fucked your brains out a moment ago.

“Say sorry.” he said, voice as stable and confident as ever, unwavering compared to your shaky, barely still there one. 

“Wh-what?” It took the words a second to make their way from your ears to your brain, hazy mind clouded with nothing but him, unable to process what he’s even saying when he’s buried so deep in you.

“I said, say sorry.” he bumped into your sweet spot once again, leaving you mewling and your eyes closing on their own.

“I’m sorry. So sorry.” you stuttered, trying to piece your thoughts together while you could.

“Sorry for what?” he asked. “Sorry for the things you said, or sorry because you know I won’t let you come?” 

“I’m-I’m sorry for what I said, I didn’t-… I promise I didn’t mean it… Please, let me come, baby…” you whimpered out, grabbing at his arm again, trying to gain the little bit of sympathy you hoped he still had left.

“You’ll have to beg a little harder for me to even think about it, princess.” he chuckled, like the whole thing was damn hilarious, working his fingers on your clit again as your breathing stammered and you fought your best to get some words out.

“God, baby, please, you-you know I didn’t mean it… I’m sorry, so sorry…” you breathed out with another tired gulp. “You-...I-... please, baby, you can’t do this, I’m sorry, okay?”

“I can do whatever I fucking want to and I have some reason for it. What’s stopping me from using you like my own little fuckdoll right now and leaving you here with nothing except my own cum dripping out of you? What’s stopping me?” Clay snapped, pulling you by the hair again. You gulped again, feeling actually nervous this time.

“I… Please, baby, I won’t do it again, I’m sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t mean any of the stuff I said, please, can you just-” 

He interrupted you mid sentence with such a rough thrust that you let out an embarrassingly loud moan, his fingers back on your clit, feeling like you’re getting lifted up to the skies themselves once again. He managed to find the same angle, hitting the spot that made you feel hell and heaven all at once, pleasure prickling at every part of your body as you loudly moaned, putting no effort into concealing it or keeping silent anymore.

You felt the knot in your stomach once again, quicker than ever, slowly unraveling itself and your cries turned into ramblings, begging him to let you come.

“Pl-please, can I please… Fuck! Please, can I- I’m so close, shit, baby, can I please-” you stuttered, tears starting to pool in the corners of your eyes as you could almost touch your climax.

“Fuck, baby. Come for me.” 

As soon as the words escaped his lips, you felt the knot finally untie itself and you let out a guttural moan, not caring who would hear or not - the pleasure was sickeningly sweet, almost making you ill, knocking you to your elbows as you couldn’t see, hear, feel nothing except the wave of pleasure washing over you repeatedly, beads of sweat running down your body.

The clenching of your heat against him while you climaxed drove Clay to the brink of insanity, coming himself before he could even realise it, filling you up to the brim with a few final thrusts. He stayed inside you for a few seconds while you were catching your breath, watching you uncontrollably spasm around him as you came down from the high, clenching around him every so often, all your senses overstimulated.

When your breathing evened out, he finally pulled out, grabbing the box of tissues from his locker as he slowly started to clean you up, wiping over your sensitive parts, holding you up lightly by the stomach so you wouldn’t fall whenever he touched one of the tender parts. You huffed out a large exhale.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Clay. Remind me to never provoke you after a game again, what the fuck.” you said, voice still shaky, and you heard him cackle behind you.

“I’ll probably be mad for the rest of the day anyways, but whatever.”

“You played good, by the way. Really good. I just wanted to piss you off.” You admitted, watching him stand up and look at you with a knowing smile, before pressing a light peck against your lips. 

“Yeah, I figured.”

[marsbutterfly]

Manjiro sano and "is this all for me?" aslo can this be be black haired mikey please? Idk of I'm doing this right😭

Oh Dear Mikey

Warnings: Oral sex (M! Receiving), cum shots, fem!reader, protected sex, vaginal sex.

Mars' Valentine's Day Event

“So this is it?” Mikey asks, throwing his body against the maroon colored couch that resides against the wall. You nod, handing him a glass of whiskey with a single ice cube, just like he likes it.

“This is it.” You reply, sitting beside him. His arm reaches towards the back of the couch and across your shoulders, his right leg crossed above his left one. “I told you it wouldn’t be too bad.”

“Your family didn’t look too pleased to meet me.” He says, taking a deep breath before sipping on the beverage in his hand.

“That’s just how they are.” You shrug your shoulders at him, watching as he shakes his head in the hopes of getting his bangs out of the way. He is still getting used to the new haircut but the color of his hair reminds you of the dark night the two of you meet.

He catches you staring at him, a smile stamped on your face as you memorize every detail of his face. He tilts his chin up, a silent way of inviting you to join him on the couch and you accept his invite.

Mikey extends his free hand to you, pulling you to sit on his lap. Your ass falls on his thigh easily and you grind against the area to torment him a little. Your left facing the same direction as his while you have your back to him.

“You look beautiful tonight.” He says, biting your ear lobe and a chill travels down your spine. His breath is warm and it smells like the alcoholic drink he’s having. It’s a smell you’ve grown quite used to and it brings you a certain sensation of comfort.

His lips travel from your ears towards your neck, his tongue going through the nape of your neck in circles, leaving behind a wet spot. His hand goes from its designated place on your waist towards in between your legs.

“Spread them for me.” He asks and you oblige. Though always embarrassing, you loved to hear as Mikey would order you around before and during sex. You place one leg on the armrest of the couch and the other on the cushions.

Mikey has barely said anything and you are already wet for him. Your head falls back against his shoulder and he lets out a low moan that goes straight to his cock.

He tugs the fabric of your underwear gently, silently urging you to remove it but you decide to keep it on, not fully knowing if you are doing so to tease yourself or Mikey, maybe a combination of both.

The wetness that pools in your panties is enough to make the blood rush through Mikey’s cock. The drink still sturdy in his right hand, he brings his left towards your throat, grip tightening around it while he feels as your pulse begins to rise.

“Put on a show for me.” He demands, placing his hand on your ass before gently pushing you off of his thigh. You fall to your knees, hands quickly coming together to unbuckle his belt and pull his pants down below his ankles alongside his underwear.

His cock springs out and you can’t help but stare at the pink tip. You grab it by the shaft, placing it beside your face before using it to smack against your cheek. Mikey lets out a low laugh in response to your actions.

“Not like that.” He whispers, his hand going through your face, “Put it in your mouth, pretty girl.”

A burning sensation takes over your face, mostly because you were trying to make him smile but the roughness in his voice is nearly enough to drive you mad.

His entire length enters your mouth down to your throat but you don’t gag. After months of practice, you’ve gotten quite good at hiding any sounds you could possibly make. Especially since your entire family is in the other room, playing board games while you and Mikey are hidden in the office.

Saliva drips down the sides of your mouth, with one hand you hold his knees, making sure you won’t fall and with the other you jerk him off at every second he isn’t entirely in between your lips.

When his fist slams the cushioned surface, you can tell he is getting close so you quicken your pace, bobbing your head up and down while his grip on your hair tightens. A few tears stream down your face in response to his light thrusts in your mouth.

He curses quietly, blocking any sounds he could possibly make with a large sip out of his whiskey. When the alcohol passes his throat, he hisses and the remaining of the ice clinks against the glass.

His eyes are closed, focusing on the warm sensation your mouth is providing him.

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds for you to feel his hot cum sliding down your throat. You swallow every little drop and when he looks down, you open your mouth to show him there is absolutely nothing left.

Finally, you remove your underwear and reveal your completely naked body to Mikey, who looks at you with a fire in his eyes. He notices the pool of your fluids that lays on the floor and can't help but smile at himself.

“Is this all for me?” He asks and you nod, looking away in embarrassment. “Maybe I can take care of that.”

“Where would you like me?” You ask and he stands up, pointing towards the couch with his head and you quickly obey, lying down on your stomach against the soft surface. In the meantime, you can hear the condom package being ripped and the slippery contents gliding down Mikey’s cock.

You can feel as his curious hands wander around your body before resting on your ass. They spread you open like a book as he, without the use of his hands, guides himself towards your entrance. He struggles for a few seconds but refuses to ask for her or ask you to place your legs on a different position. You feel the cold sensation of the condom, something you are all too familiar with.

“Yes, Mikey, like that.” You say and he smirks, slamming his hips against yours. His actions result in you nearly screaming into the cushion and a very concerned member of your family asks if you are alright.

The tip of his cock breaches your entrance and he pulls it out before bringing the tip back in; it deliciously stretches you and you can barely respond.

“Yeah, I’m - oh Mikey - I’m good. I feel - Aaah - tripped.” You attempt to say in the best manner you can, desperately pretending that Mikey’s entire length isn’t entering you right this second.

“Good girl, now squeeze down on my cock.” He requests and you comply. “Oooh like that, stay like that.”

It was now harder for him to move inside of you but the payoff was immense. He immediately picks up pace, the force of his hips slapping against yours is enough to bruise. You moan in a failed attempt to remain quiet, worried that someone might walk in. His balls came crashing against your ass, and your hand went to your untouched clit. You begin to rub the area in time with his thrusts and it feels divine.

“Oh Mikey, You're going to make me come.” You say.

“Already?” He teases in response. “Ah fuck, me too.”

It takes him less than a few seconds to come once again, even more coming out than before. In that moment, there is nothing he wished more than to be able to come inside of you but at the same time he would not like his seed to fall on the couch.

You follow him closely behind - the feeling of the warm cum inside the condom is enough to milk you into an orgasm of your own. You bury your face into the couch, letting out one final, loud scream, his name falling from your lips.

He pulls out from inside of you slowly, teasing you in the process.

“I’m addicted to your pussy.” He says and you smile.

“I love you too, Mikey.” You add, planting a gentle kiss on his forearm before feeling as his body collapses on top of you.

"You enjoyed it though, right?" He puts his arm around your waist and you lean into his touch. You nod, too tired to speak and fall asleep against his body, right there in the office.

[goatchulu]

jealous! lucifer x gender neutral! reader

Genre: fluff, ig? slight smut in the end.

Fandom: obey me!

Prompt: you find yourself in a fake relationship, and now you're introducing your "boyfriend" to the demom brothers. they don't take it so well, especially lucifer.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, mentions of harassment and stalking, they make out in the end, reader's gender is unmentioned for your imagination (and inclusion).

lucifer takes another swig of his whisky, a slight burning sensation lingering on his throat. no matter the amount of alcohol he consumed that night, he couldn't escape the bitter feeling that was left inside his chest.

the two of you have been hitting it off pretty well for the past few weeks, if he could say so himself. the harmless complimenting and the subtle glancing had turned into ardent flirting and shows of affection overtime. you two were finally going somewhere with your mutual pinning, or so he thought.

lucifer didn't think his small (not so small) crush on you would lead anywhere, really. nor did he think you would reciprocate his infatuation. but with all the friendly interactions you had of late, anyone would assume you two were together in a romantic light.

now look, lucifer prides himself as a person. he was assertive, efficient, productive, level-headed and the voice of reason when stress is most prominent. but as a lover? lucifer wasn't so sure. he assumed you'd like someone more jolly and eccentric like mammon or someone more confident and charismatic like asmodeus. he didn't expect for you to even spare him a second glance when it came to the dating game. lucifer was a busy man after all, and he wasn't the most expressive when it came to emotions; not very ideal for a lover.

but what lucifer also did not expect was for you to bring home a common demon boy and introduce him as your significant other.

let's just say that all the built up tension and courting were all ruined by a single dinner party.

you had gathered all the demon brothers earlier that morning, claiming you had an important announcement to make. you went as far as inviting diavolo and his loyal butler, barbatos, to spend the evening over for dinner. they thanked you for the invitation, but they unfortunately, could not attend because of their hectic schedules.

lucifer, on the other hand, was more than happy to accept your invitation (though he was quick to cover up the smile he held when you came up to him). seeing as he already lives under the same roof as you, anways. his happiness would soon be diminished and grinded into dirty, pathetic, dust, though.

lucifer's eyes narrow as mammon's loud laughter bounces off the walls of the dining room. lucienne, your "boyfriend", had managed to crack the demon up with one of his silly stories about a strange elderly wizard that sold expensive medication made out of fairy wings that turned out to just be bedazzled dragon fly wings. he worked wonders with the avatar of greed, considering the fact that just a moment ago, mammon was cursing in jealousy and resentment as you sat with your newly introduced boyfriend.

luficer would've told mammon to shut up, but he feared saying something far more vulgar out of anger. the previous tension was already eased into a more domesticated athmosphere (credits to lucienne's charm and humor), lucifer didn't want to ruin dinner for his brothers, and especially not for you.

i mean, lucifer felt betrayed, he felt used and-- and played. how could you lead him on like this? but deep inside, he knew there was something else. he felt disappointed, he felt defeated, he felt crushed, he wished he'd done something sooner before this lucienne stole you away from him.

but anyways, back to the dinner party.

"you seem unusually quiet, lucy." asmo teases from across lucifer's seat. the phrase seems to capture everyone's attention, all eyes now on the grimacing and glaring lucifer.

"asmo's right, you haven't uttered a word since lucienne arrived, lucifer. is something wrong?" you chime in, causing lucifer to perk up. the thought of you worrying about his state sent sparks into his heart, but they were quick to disappear when lucienne asks him the same question.

"i'm fine." he replies to your concern, unable to hide the venom that strung on to his words. this only causes asmodeus to snicker, and leviathan to sink deeper into his seat. everyone else watches in concern as lucifer downs another glass of demom whiskey. you're about to ask him again, unsure about his reply, but he stops you before you could even form a word.

"i said i'm fine."

the air is tense, until eventually, mammon gasps out of nowhere. "don't tell me! lucifer is jealous!!~" he repeats in a sing song manner, only irking lucifer even further. no one else speaks up, the whole situation akward enough.

after a while, though, lucienne speaks up. he gestures at mammon, especially. hoping to stop the demon from escalating the situation. "hey mammon, wanna hear about that one time i accidentally professed my love for my eight grade math teacher?" mammon only settles back into his seat, ready for another laughing fit. the avatar of pride snaps at this, slamming his fists down the table before abruptly excusing himself with a "i have something to do."

he spares you one last glance. his heart aching with guilt from the way you had lowered your head in shame. lucifer didn't want to make you feel like he owned you, or that you weren't allowed to be with someone else... he just, he has enough reason to justify his anger right now and he really wants to dwell in it. he turns his head away from you, biting his lip to contain the guilt and pain that was threatening to seep out. he doesn't turn to look back as he walks away from the dining room in long and rushed strides.

lucifer walks down the dark hallways of lamentation, familiar with every nook and cranny the mansion had. he sighs in relief as his palm reaches out for a familiar door. it creaks as lucifer walks into his room, sounding just as glum as lucifer is.

he heads straight to his paperwork, silently hoping that they would provide him some sort of comfort. he tries to focus on anything but the thought of you or your unavailability, his mind barely processing any of the words that were printed out in front of him. he groans, his hands pulling on his jet black hair in frustration.

i mean, he should've expected this. lucienne was everything lucifer thought you would love. funny outgoing, caring, expressive, charismatic, a smooth talker and he looked at you with utmost respect and admiration. i mean, who in their right mind would choose old-schooled lucifer over the flawless lucienne?

you deserve lucienne and although lucifer thinks that no one in the three realms could ever deserve to call you theirs, he still thinks that lucienne is more deserving of you than lucifer could ever be. what were you doing to the poor demon? he was never one to admit defeat like this, and he especially wasn't the type of person that'd lower themself like this.

his rollercoaster of thoughts are interrupted by a gentle knock on the door. his ears already familiar with this particular knocking pattern. he can't help but straighten himself up, suddenly aware of the way his hair is all sprawled out. he slicks it down with saliva, muttering a small "enter" soon after he finshes checking on his appearance.

his mood lightens just a little bit at the sight of your face. as much as lucifer wants to hate you right now, he couldn't possibly feel that way towards you. never, not in a quadrillion light years.

you sit down in front of him, a genuine look of concern on your face. this makes lucifer visibly frown, catching you a bit off guard. "i wanted to talk to you about something, lucifer." his eyes grow curious and a bit hopeful, wishing it were about something that would distract him from the current situation or give him even the tiniest bit of closure.

"it's about lucienne." and once again, you manage to crush all his hope with only a few words. lucifer swears that if he hears that name one more time, he would personally shove your lovely boyfriend down the deepest depths of the underworld.

you watch his brows furrow and his fist tighten on his quill. lucifer looks far from happy to hear you talk about your significant other right now. "look, i know you'd rather not hear about lucienne again, but it's really really important and i want you to just hear me out. just this once, please?"

lucifer couldn't stand the pleading look you were giving him. your puppy eyes were a weapon that you used on him often, and they always managed to work. a tired sigh leaves his lips, if it meant getting it over with then he'd listen. "fine," he snaps, not before rubbing at his temple in obvious distress. he's said fine, but his body language told you otherwise.

"someone's kind of harassing lucienne at the moment. stalking him, giving him unwanted gifts and constantly professing their love for him when he's told them multiple times that it made him uncomfortable. they're an admirer of some sorts. i'm posing as lucienne's lover in hopes that they'd back off for a while, but i wanted to see if you and diavolo could do some actual help. it's worrisome, really. and it's been stressing lucienne out for the past couple of weeks. pretending to be his significant other is the most i can do for him, i hope you understand."

lucifer only freezes in shock, guilt washing over him all so suddenly. you call out for him, effectively snapping him out of his short daze. of course you'd offer to help lucienne out, you've always been a kind person. in lucifer's eyes, atleast. he coughs into his hand, avoiding eye contact with you as he degrades himself for his previous selfishness.

"of course, i'll do my best to make sure this harasser is punished. the school and i will ensure that lucienne won't be seeing this stalker anytime soon. just keep supporting him like this, i suppose. tell him he can sleep here for the night. thank you for informing me about this." you smile at lucifer's response, relief overwhelming your senses. if this meant that lucienne was finally going to be safe and unbothered, you were overjoyed.

you jump at lucifer, thanking him, all the while, squeezing the life out of him. his heart races impossibly fast at the gesture, and you can't help but smirk at the red that tainted his cheeks. "just so you know, i still like you. and only you, lucy."

his breath comes to a halt. he was no longer able to contain the butterflies that crowded his stomach; shock and well, pure bliss apparent on his face. "does this mean i can kiss you?"

"do anything as you please."

lucifer lunges at you. capturing your lips into a hungry and impatient kiss. his hands roam all over your torso, looking for anything he could hold onto. he settles for your waist and you drape your hands over his shoulders. heaven knows how long he's been waiting for this moment.

he manages to stumble through his room, leading you two to his bed. you part as he pushes you down to sit at the end of his king sized bed. he grins at the sight of you, disheveled and thirsty for more. the avatar of pride couldn't help but be excited for the faces you'll make in the unholy endeavors he's planning for you. he'll devour you, tear apart every innocent limb you have in your body. his imagination runs wild as he thinks of the many ways he'd mark you as his, exhibit you to the world and spread you wide open for his contenders to see. for them to know just how pathetic and needy lucifer could make you in an instant.

he bends down to kiss you again, pushing against your tounge with his own. he squeezes your thighs, digging his nails deep into the skin under the cloth still covering you. groans and grunts leave your lips as he countinues to caress your plush thighs.

as you two part, panting, a newfound possessiveness overtakes lucifer's eyes.

"you're mine."

[martuzzio]

The idea of Ren joining the Amputees-Only club sounds so bittersweet... cuz before he knew they were having fun, but also knew that they were allowed to have a bond like that. He never expected to join them.

I can honestly imagine in his first few meetings there's a few times where Ren just cries, poor guy...

Rendog's first Amputee's Only Club Meeting (written under the cut because this one is longer than normal)

Despite what the universe seems to think, Doc is a pretty easygoing guy. Yes, he does look scary as hell and yes, he was a mob boss at one point, but that doesn’t mean he’s a violent person. Well, he’s violent when he needs to be, but that doesn’t mean he enjoys it. In reality, his favorite moments are all from quiet parts of his normal, boring, daily life as a hermit.

In these everyday moments, Doc likes to process things. He likes to sit in the greenhouse and watch the bio bees work alongside the robot bees. He likes to brush his fingers on the plants and let his half-robotic brain process the data into something that resembles touch. He likes to listen to Grian and Etho chat as they work.

He observes small moments like these because that’s all he really does. He takes in data and processes it. He uses the processed information to judge his surroundings and react accordingly. Sometimes this means that he uses his data to laugh at his friends who make dumb jokes. But sometimes he uses the data to run, hide, or fight back. When all you do is process data to keep yourself alive, it becomes very hard to ignore incoming information.

This is how Doc eventually locates Ren. He wasn’t planning on finding where his longtime friend wheeled off to, much less go searching for him, but Doc unfortunately decided to take a more leisurely route to the bridge and his camera eye caught the slight movement anyway. Doc has to give it to him; the man knows how to hide. The werewolf is in a lesser-used community room, curled into a dusty couch that’s been shoved into the corner. The chrome wheels of his temporary mobility aid reflect off of the window overlooking deep space. Ren has his left leg drawn up to this chest. His stump of a right leg rests on the couch cushion, shunned. Ren’s obviously hid because he doesn’t want to be found, but unluckily for him, Doc was specifically altered to notice things.

Ren’s flinch when Doc claps his hand on his shoulder is almost unnoticeable. Ren looks like he’s either been crying or had a bad allergic reaction to the dust. Doc assumes the former.

“Cub was working on your new parts earlier today. They look pretty sick,” he ventures.

Ren looks like he has the entire universe on his shoulders. “That’s wonderful,” he mumbles. He opens his mouth as if to say more, but instead sighs and slides his eyes shut.

Doc plops down on the couch and slings his arm over the back of the rest. The action makes Ren recoil again, this time more visibly, and Doc pointedly ignores it. Instead, he says, “As much as I want you to come see what Cub is making, you will go to him when you feel like it. There is nothing you need to do right now besides heal.”

Ren barks out a wet laugh. “Bro, I appreciate you so much, but how can stumps heal?”

Doc’s cybernetic hand twitches in sympathy. “You know what I mean, man, and we both know it.” Doc replies. He looks down at the sliver of space between his leg and Ren’s and chews his words. Ren shifts his gaze to Doc’s arm, then to gaze directly at the creeper’s face.

Doc feels uncomfortable in a way he’s never felt before. All of the other amputee hermits were already amputees when they joined the crew. They had time to heal, be angry, and let go in their own ways. He did, too. But now, with Ren sitting next to him, suffering through the same kind of anguish Doc felt when he first woke up from being operated on, Doc suddenly doesn’t know how to act. How do you comfort someone who literally lost a third of their body? As much as Doc knows what that feels like and as much as he wants to help his friend, he might not be able to. He might not ever be able to.

It’s the single most heartbreaking thing that Doc’s realized in a long, long time.

This revelation causes the duo to sit in silence for a long while. Then, Doc gets an idea. His eye shifts to look at his friend. Ren narrows his eyes tiredly but waits anyway.

“The Amputees-Only Club meeting is in a few minutes.” Doc murmurs. Ren is silent, but he plows on. “I think you should come,” he pleads. “I think everyone would be very happy to see you.”

Ren’s throat clicks as he swallows. “I’m sure they would.”

“I would be very happy to see you.”

Ren’s eyelids squeeze together. “I know you would.”

“Then let’s go,” Doc insists as he pushes himself to his feet. He turns around and smiles as much as he can at his friend, still curled up on the couch. Ren gazes exhaustedly back. “I think it would be a good idea.” He wishes his smile weren’t so frightening.

Ren moves to rub his eyes with his hands but remembers he’s missing one of his arms a little too late. The resulting crumpled expression immediately burns into Doc’s deep storage memory. “I don’t know, Doc.” The werewolf manages after a long moment. “I appreciate you trying to help, but…”

Doc understands. Of course he does. When he first joined the hermits, the idea of a weekly club meeting exclusively for amputees sounded farfetched at best and belittling at worst. Hell, he didn’t even think there were enough amputees on the team to warrant a club. Imagine his surprise when three other people showed up to his first session, all excited he was there to hang out with them.

With this in mind, all he can do is repeat, “I think it would be a good idea.”

Ren stares up at him, and in that moment, he looks as old as Xisuma. But then he gently closes his eyes, inhales slowly and shallowly, and motions for Doc to drag his mobility aid closer. Doc complies immediately.

The journey to the meeting room, like every other journey on the Hermit Craft, is long. It’s made even longer because of Ren’s inexperience with his aid, but Doc doesn’t dare to offer his help. They eventually end up in front of the elevator that Doc remotely called beforehand with his brain chip. When the doors open, Doc lets Ren wheel in first.

Ren is silent in the elevator. Doc tries to catch his expression, but his friend’s unruly hair blocks his vision. “We’re playing cards tonight.” He mentions.

“That’s what you do at every Amputee-Only Club meeting.”

Doc shifts his eye back to the elevator door. “…Correct.”

Ren doesn’t reply.

When the duo finally reaches the Club meeting room, Doc pauses outside for a moment instead of directing his brain to open the door like normal. He glances down at Ren again and murmurs, “if you don’t want to go back, or to your room or something, that’s—”

“It’s fine,” Ren interrupts. He sounds defeated. “We walked all the way here, so we may as well go.”

Doc activates the door without another thought.

The door slides open and reveals the club room. It’s small, smaller than the average community space on the Hermit Craft, but it feels warm. The soft yellow color painted on the walls matches pleasantly with the yellow of the couch cushions. Joe definitely was the one to orchestrate that. There’s a small kitchenette in the corner that’s set up to have nice views of outer space. Various game tables fill the rest of the room, a few surrounded by five chairs. Doc wonders if Ren will notice the new chair addition. Maybe he already had.

The most interesting part of the space, though, is the people within it. TFC is bundled up on the couch, snoring pleasantly and covered in at least ten blankets. His usual plate of cookies is already half eaten. Iskall is standing at the kitchen counter, fiddling with a teacup filled with a mysterious bright pink liquid. His outfit has a few suspicious-looking singe marks at the hem. Finally, Scar is sat at the poker table in the middle of the room, crossed legs resting on an adjacent chair. He’s sorting through a pile of yellow and orange chips. To Doc’s continued wonder, the stack of bright blue cards resting near Scar’s elbow have miraculously not been knocked onto the floor yet.

When the doors open, Scar and Iskall look over. Ren immediately shifts at Doc’s elbow. Doc waits a moment to let Ren speak if he wants to, but when his shorter friend remains silent, he clears his throat in a grinding noise and announces, unnecessarily, “We’re here.”

Scar is so excited that his eyes have turned into little slivers of green. “Ren, I’m so happy you decided to tag along!” He kicks one of the chairs out from the table and clonks his foot on it for emphasis. The blue cards wobble on the edge of the table but still refuse to fall. “Sit down! Iskall can get you something to drink. Have you ever played poker?” He leans forward with the question. “It’s difficult, but I think it’s fun!”

“Uh, I haven’t.” Ren replies awkwardly, still at the door alongside Doc. “I’ve never even heard of it before.”

“Yeah, I would be surprised if you knew about it. It’s one of those old-timey games from TFC’s era.” Iskall says from across the room. He is now by the couch and is gently patting TFC’s fluffy hair to wake him. “Don’t worry that you don’t know. We’ll teach you.”

Ren tries and fails to make a pointed noise of interest, but he still seems intrigued. Doc feels the knot in his chest loosen a little. He rolls his shoulders to relieve some tension and moves to sit down. By the time he turns his head to look back, Ren is already wheeling forward to join him but looks lost as to where he should sit.

“Howdy, Ren. Sit next to me so I can teach you, but I’ll only teach if you’re willing to listen.” TFC, now awake, grumbles good-naturedly as he heaves himself off the couch. With his large frame still wrapped in a dozen blankets, he looks like a huge bear compared to Iskall. Which is impressive, Doc thinks, since Iskall is nowhere near frail. TFC’s metal prosthetic clonks on the floor as he walks over to the poker table. As he sits down across from Scar, he says, “There’s no point in just sitting there and gawking at us. Grab a seat.” He uses his leg to nudge the chair to his left.

Ren blinks and maneuvers his aid to let him sit down next to the astronaut. TFC procures a blanket from his pile and offers one to him. Ren, after slowly settling in his chair, accepts the pink fuzzy blanket. Doc accepts a purple one.

TFC lances over to Ren as he saves the blue cards from the edge of the table. “Poker’s good fun. You’ll get it in no time.” He snorts and flicks his gaze to Scar, who is busy stacking the chips into a pyramid. “This one always makes sure we have a great, long game.”

Scar looks up and winces minutely in a false apology. “Sorry about that.”

TFC chuckles. “Boy, I’ve never had better games than when I play with you.”

Scar’s grin almost sparkles. TFC and Doc grin back and Iskall hides his laugh in his shoulder.

“Anyway, ready for your first game with us amputees?” TFC brings the conversation back to Ren, who suddenly looks a lot more uncomfortable.

“I,” he begins, his eyes flicking to TFC, then Doc, before looking down. “I, well, uh…”

The table is silent. Iskall is staring at the table with his hands in his lap. TFC sighs and begins shuffling the cards. Doc, as much as he wants to clear the air somehow, can’t seem to find a way to do so. Scar just looks sad. He looks right at Ren, almost through him.

Ren stares back, eyes wide.

“You don’t want to be here.” Scar says quietly, finally. It’s not a question. Ren’s choked response makes the ex-convex smile slightly. “You can say so, Ren. You’re not going to hurt our feelings. None of us want to be here. But, as much as we may want to, we can’t change what happened to us.” He falls silent again as he looks at a particularly twisted scar on the back of his left hand. He rubs at it harshly with the pad of his thumb before Iskall stops him. “This might be selfish,” Scar continues, softly, “but I’m happy that I at least don’t have to sit in here alone.”

For a long moment, the table is silent. Then, with a rush of noise, Ren makes a sound like he’s dying. In a certain way, Doc thinks, he is.

“I don’t want to be here,” Ren confesses as his open mouth contorts and tears roll down his face. “I don’t want to be here.”

All Doc can do is wrap his arms around everyone else, encasing Ren and his other amputee friends in his embrace, and wish he could do more.

[savorysatori]

DEJA VU. / SATORI TENDŌ! — dé·jà vu.

Deja Vu. /ˌdāZHä ˈvo͞o / a feeling of having already experienced the present situation.

synopsis. — you were both broken up. done with each other for the rest of your life, but, that one phone call always awoke something in you. bringing you back to where you used to be.

// warnings. smoking, car sex, tiny bit of angst. fem!reader, ex-lovers. possessiveness, toxic!tendō, face-sitting, daddy kink. + overstimulation, manipulation, non-con at first.

leader’s notes. my second attempt at writing angst and I hope I don’t butcher it, anyways, writing this hurt bad <33 but it’s also so hot because of toxic tendō. hehe! 💗

“You always babble on about us .. saying we can’t be together, and yet, you always pick up on my calls. You’re useless without me, dove.”

4:55 AM. — It was a soft breeze tonight, the birds were silent and the sun was slowly rising to uplift the night sky. It was a quiet night. Nothing to disturb your neighbors of their slumber, deep sleep with dreams of all kinds of things swishing between them and others. 

But, you, oh you. You were up, wide awake, awaiting that same message you get from him every single day. It had become a schedule to stay up this late, hoping the three bubbles would pop up beside his name. You yearned to see him again. And it was awful. An awful, awful thing. You fell deeper into his hole of games and tricks he played on you, unable to climb out from it. Fell deep into the love he provided you. But he couldn't love you back. That was the worst part of it, and the reason you could never tell anybody. You wanted to leave, and you did. You were the one who chose to break up, yet the one who kept going back and forth. This was the cycle of a pathetic relationship, and you knew it. You felt your cell phone vibrate in your hand. You felt a mixture of dread and excitement. Dread, because you knew who was texting.

“Come outside. I’m here.”

The message showed up. From there, you knew it was him. His words were short. Uneventful, but short. You opened your front door, walking out to the middle of the meadow behind your house, to feel the crisp air on your famished skin. The moon was high in the sky, and its light illuminated your surroundings. There was nobody else around, giving you a sense of isolation from any other living being. Tendō leaned against his sleek car, exactly where your visions had led you to expect him to be. His legs were crossed and his shoulders slumped as if he was trying to disappear into the dark color of the car. You couldn't make out much else about him, as he was keeping himself cloaked in shadow.

"Tendō," you uttered, walking up to him.

He slowly lifted his head, peeking out from the cloak of car. His eyes were lifeless. Empty. There was no emotion in those deep vermillions. They were cold. Hard. Like the metal of the car they were resting on.

"So, you did come,” he said, his voice monotone and emotionless, his mouth however was pulled up into a small smirk. He pushed himself up from the car, standing at its height. He brushed some dirt off his slacks, and pulled the car door open, climbing inside. You followed his example, climbing into the passenger seat.

Tendō’s car was spotless. Not a speck of dirt was anywhere to be found on the car's interior. The seats were equally as clean, with not a single stain or tear in sight. It was obvious that he took great care in keeping his car in pristine condition. It made all the memories flood back easily into your brain, having you remember exactly everything that happened in here. As you sat in it, the engine still idling, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, pulling one out and putting it in his mouth. He lit it with his flickery lighter, taking a deep breath in and releasing it through his nose.

“I thought you quit,” you repeated the same words from before, hoping he took them in. He didn't answer. Instead, he focused on the cigarette in his mouth as he drew it out. Pushed a button to raise the window, allowing the smoke to escape into the frigid night air.

‘Why wasn’t he answering you?’

The clock in your head ticked and tocked. Back and forth with you getting irritated with by the lack of response you are getting.

He slowly exhaled, the smoke leaving his lips in a thin stream.

"Quit your bickering, would ya’? "

The two of you sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity. Smoke filled the car's interior, clouds swirling around each other as they rose into the air. The smell of tobacco vanished when he crushed the cig in his palm, flicking the now burnt remains out the window. Once the window rolled up, you could see the uneasiness settle into your stomach.

“Ten- we gotta.. end this, tonight. Last time.”

You were sure about it. Hundred percent, sure. Even if the need of your body wasn’t. You could feel it. His words were vague, non-committal at best, but his eyes, that's what he was getting at. His dead eyes told you all you need to know. Tendō grabbed your hand, and before you could even think about it, your hand went near your mouth, coercing you onto his lap with a brutal grip.

His other arm wrapped around your waist, holding you in place. Your legs moved to straddle him, your knees on either side of his thighs. His hand left your mouth, finding its way onto your throat. You gulped in a breath, instantly feeling the pain of his fingers trapping your flesh. His face, so close to yours.

“You always babble on about us .. saying we can’t be together, and yet, you always pick up on my calls. You’re useless without me, dove.”

And he was right, so right. All of it. All of his games, tactics, his plans. You left him, yet you kept coming back. Why?

His eyes burned with a bright red, like two hot cinders. Tempting you to utter a word from your quivering lips, daring you to make a peep. And just like that, his found yours, smothering your lips. Soft at first, but soon they were hungry. They were everywhere, and you welcomed each one. Tongue pushed into your mouth; you tasted the blood from your bitten lip. The smoky flavor of his mouth was gone, replaced by the metal-like bitterness of his cold breath. You were weak. Powerless against him.

Your knees bent, your legs becoming wobbly, and you gave in. What else could you do? You couldn’t resist to his whims. His cold fingers rested against your burning cheek, his other hand grabbed at the side of your face, fingers digging into your jaw.

"You're mine." He breathed, his lips barely moving.

Dazed and confused, you didn't utter a single sound. His hand ran down your cheek, and he gave a light squeeze, holding you in place for his next move. His cold lips pressed against your cheek, moving slowly to your ear. "Say it."

"I'm yours!” The words escaped your lips, as if someone had pressed them in. They felt unnatural, wrong. It was like you was forcing yourself to say them. He let out a low chuckle, his hot breath causing you to shiver, no, to tremble. "Good girl."

The hand that was on your face moved down, and he grabbed at the front of your shirt. The feeling of his hand against your skin sent chills down your spine. You could feel him smile against your skin, his lips splayed on your chest. It all came too fast. One moment he was whispering dreadful words, the next he had the leather seat laid back, the remaining clothes thrown away with your legs fastened around each side of his head, cunt mere inches away from his hungry mouth. He had your wrists pushed against your head, and the leather seat belt were tied to your arms, leaving you unable to move them. Tied down, forced to watch, no matter how hard you tried to look away... he filled your glistening pussy with his cold tongue.

It was brutal. it was exquisite.

Moans came out of your lips with every thrust, and you couldn't help but push against his mouth. You wanted more. So much more. You could feel the warmth of his mouth, hear the slurping and slopping sounds as his tongue moved in and out, spreading the lips of your pussy to suckle. The harder you went, the wetter he made you, flicking at your clit. His stubble raked against your inner thighs as his mouth moved up to your aching sex. You rocked into his face, faster with a swirl from your hips. You could almost feel the heat of his breath against your clit as you loosed a torrent of dirty words, his name passed your lips in a long tone.

“Daddy! hah, ye- yes! ‘s good,”

He didn't need telling twice. Grabbing your hips, he steadied your gyrating body as he buried his head in your depths. He pushed your legs up, spreading you wide open. His tongue swept in and out, faster and faster. You could feel the air swirling around your clit as his nose pushed against your folds, sucking your sore bud into his mouth and biting down. You came hard, shuddering as your muscles tightened and unknotted themselves, unable to do anything else as wave after wave hit you.

Tendō’s tongue slid up from your sensitive bud, slipping back into his mouth with the filth of your juices splayed on it. He did exactly what he always did, make you dazed over him. Crawling back to him and his dick with need.

“Look at you. A fucking whore, whinin’ and squealing, you can’t go a fucking day without me — can you?” he urged you on with his harsh words, bringing you back from the aftershock.

You were addicted to him.

“No. I — I can’t, I love you too much,” a sniffle came from you, eyes settling to close. “But, please .. fuck me, daddy.”

A pleased look spread onto his face. He won. “You’re finally learning, dove. Now you know you can’t live without me, I’m too fuckin’ good.” you were swished from on top of his face, your legs being forced up, your knees drawn back as his fingers dug into your thighs. Gently, he guided his dick to you. His hands wrapped around your legs as he slowly started to push into you, rocking his hips as he found your warm, wet hole.

“Daddy! — ah, fuuck.” you hissed as he entered you, wincing as he twisted his hips, grinding the last inches of his cock into you. Cool air brushed against your raw neck and the inside of your thighs as his warm body pushed against you. With every thrust, his dick ground against your clit, sending jolts of delight through your body. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as your fingers bit into his flesh. You didn't want it to end. This pure, unadulterated pleasure. He leaned forward, supporting his weight on his forearms as he panted.

You were tight. So fuckin’ tight, Tendō could barely move.

He thrust into you, hard. His pelvis slapped your ass as you took him in. You moaned into his mouth as his dick rubbed that sweet spot inside you, your body felt as if it was in a craze of desire. He steadied his breathing as he started to thrust harder, keeping an intent of driving you cock drunk. Tendō wrapped his hand around your throat, as his other hand raised your legs and wrapped them around his waist. His lips were messily pressed against your cheek as he kissed you with deep, raw animalistic lust. You bit your tongue to prevent yourself from making any noise, but your body betrayed you as a moan still slipped past your lips.

“I know you missed this from the way you look, I know you miss me. Let me hear you mutter it, baby.” he panted as your bodies' rhythm began to sync up.

Your nostrils were filled with his scent, your eyes were covered by your hair, but you could still see as he fucked you with kind-buttons, and the pain grew. “I’ve missed it!” And you did as you were told, jumping onto his cock and draining it dry with your whines. “I’ve missed you, s’so much, lo- love you too.”

“Knew it. I fucking knew it already, your mine.”

He was unrelenting as his cock mushed against your womb, his forehead pressed against yours. His fingers dug into your sweat-soaked back as he huffed, his breath coming out in heavy pants. You could feel the liquid filling your insides as his warm cum plugged you. His body kept on thrusting as he emptied himself into you. Your vision grew dark as the world turned all of its colors. You felt light-headed, but you didn't want it to end. You couldn’t have it end.

Tendō’s eyes ranked of desire and crave, he had you where he always wanted. Plugged you to be his, lure you back in with his lustful advances, have you stay up till the crack of dawn — waiting for that phone call from him. Make you whine just for the simplest touch from him. He drove you mad. That devilish grin on his face as he had you pinned down, that was all it took for you to fall into temptation's arms again. You were the king and he was the pawn, catching you in checkmate.

“You also still .. love me, right?”

A deep, guttural laugh escaped from him. One that would make someone wince, embarrassed of the question they asked. You wished you could take it back, wish you could go back in time and not say a peep. Wish you could disappear from reality. Just this once.

“Yes. Of course I do, my little devil. But that’s in another lifetime, one where I’m your actual boyfriend.”

You’ve felt this moment before. Tasted those same words leaving your lips, savored them to the hilt. This exact feeling felt familiar like you’ve experienced it before. You were trapped in a haze of deja vu, going around in circles and repeating the same actions from before. Just like now, what you asked him. You asked him before.

“Checkmate.”

[just-a-quirkless-loser]

What Did I Do To Deserve You?

ITS WHAT!?!

Alpha Dabi x F! Omega Reader

Words: 2.5K

Summary: Dabi finds out it’s your birthday

Soundtrack: ‘Safety Net’ by Ariana Grande ft. Ty Dolla $ign

Cuddling with your alpha, Dabi, is always the best. His smokey scent always engulfs your entire being as his strong arms keep you grounded against his chest. He always looks at you like you’re the best thing on this planet. Although, his snuggles are the least of your concern right now. 

Right now, you’re trying to figure out how you’ll survive another minute of the cuddling position he has chosen for this moment. He’s sitting on the couch with you straddling his hips, your body arched into him as he keeps on hand settled on your ass. The other hand is fumbling with a Wii controller, clumsily playing bowling. It’s actually kinda cute how much your alpha loves to play video games (you hypothesis it may be because of how he was treated as a child but, Dabi barely talks about his childhood nowadays). 

The problem, however, is that your alpha has decided to make you suffer. His hardness grinds into your core every time you try to move. You swear up and down in your mind that he does this on purpose to torture you for going to work every day. It’s pure agony laying there, feeling yourself get wetter and wetter after each second. 

Dabi, on the other hand, is having the time of his life. He enjoys the way your core radiates warmth on his dick. Plus, you’ve been at work so much lately that he’s barely had you to himself for longer than an hour before you retire to your shared bedroom and pass out from exhaustion. Your asshole boss has been keeping you in the office longer since you have a big project coming up. 

The alpha within him hates being separated from his omega but, he understands that you need your own independence. Thus, having this Thursday morning with you all to himself has made him incredibly happy. He thinks for a moment that maybe you might be sick (you only ever call out of work if you physically can’t make it) but you show no signs of illness. Then, his mind rejoices at the idea that you’ve finally agreed to quit your stupid job and allow him to provide for you; you quickly shot down this motion and told him you simply wanted to relax for once. He pouts. 

“I’m not giving up hope,” you giggle and kiss his cheek. Kissing him on the lips would be a dangerous game right now. 

“I’m sure you won’t, alpha,” Dabi’s nose flares. Glancing down at you, he runs his tongue along his teeth. Goodness, how have you survived this long in his lap? 

Your starting match with your mate is cut short by your phone ringing. You flick his nose on your way up and yelp as he swats your ass in retaliation. You look back to glare at him but he’s innocently looking at the t.v., looking up at you with puppy-dog eyes. Sometimes you truly cannot believe this same man works for the League. 

“Hello, Momma,” you sigh a bit as you answer the phone. You didn’t expect her to call you. 

“Y/N!!! Happy Birthday, my beautiful girl. How are you enjoying it?” you can hear Dabi pause his game. You silently curse your mother for finally deciding to be attentive to you.

“It’s going good, momma. I took off of work for the day,” by now, Dabi is silently staring at you. His tall figure looms over you as he mouths ‘birthday’ to you. You nod your head, wondering for a moment how the fuck his hearing is so good. 

“You deserve it. It’s such a beautiful thing to turn 17,” you sigh once again. You suppose you were asking too much for your mother to remember your age in addition to remembering the day she pushed you out of her vagina. 

“Momma, I’m turning 20,” you try not to let her ruin your mood. You try to be thankful that she’s at least making an effort. On the other hand, Dabi looks at the phone in disgust. You’ve never really told Dabi about your childhood but, he had picked up over time that you were in the same boat as himself.

“Oh dear, I’m sorry. Time is flying by so fast,” you just shake your head.

“Yeah, it really is. I have to go, ma. I’m getting ready to go do some shopping. I deserve it.”

“Yes, yes you do. I love you, Y/N,” you can tell she feels bad.

“As I do you, momma,” you end the call. You know it must hurt her when you don’t tell her you love her back but, you’ve never been able to tell her that. You care for her but, it’s so hard forgiving her. 

“IT’S WHAT!?!?!” ahhh, yes, you now have to deal with Dabi. It’s actually kinda funny how your birthday has just now dawned on his mind. However, you don’t dare laugh because you already know he feels bad enough for not knowing in the first place. “Omega, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well, I don’t normally celebrate it. My boss normally gives me the day off no matter how much I protest. I just wanted to spend the day with you,” you relish in the warmth of his palm as he starts to stroke your cheek. You stare into his deep, cerulean eyes, feeling yourself get lost. “Don’t feel bad, alpha. It’s not that important.”

“IT IS IMPORTANT,” he snaps a bit, nuzzling your head. “It’s the day you were born to be mine. I don’t know what I’d be without you.”

“You’d be the same, just a bit more aggressive,” you giggle. You have no doubt in your mind that your alpha would be single without you. It takes a special kind of person to deal with your Dabi. 

“That’s beside the point. Why didn’t you celebrate your birthday?” your eyes narrow as he speaks in the past tense.

“I DON’T celebrate it because I never got into it. I never really told you this ‘cause uh,” you rub the back of your neck in embarrassment. You know that you owe it to him to at least give him a good explanation. “Growing up, my parents were on really hard drugs. I mostly tried to avoid being in the house after things got bad so I was out working most of the time, trying to survive. I never really noticed my birthday since, you know, I was too preoccupied with taking care of myself. Then, the years started going by too fast till I just gave up trying to celebrate.”

“Y/N, Omega, look at me when I say this,” he cups your face in his hands, his nose rubbing against your, both of your eyes staring at each other. “Never feel ashamed of your past. Never feel ashamed to tell me things about yourself. I will never judge you. I love you so much, baby. Never forget that.”

“Yes, alpha,” and the matter was forgotten in your eyes. For the rest of the day, Dabi treated you like a queen (although, if you’re being honest, it didn’t really feel any different from how he normally treats you. If anything, he didn’t even let you walk). That night, he cooked you dinner and played with your hair the way you liked as he lulled you to sleep.

Once he was sure you were asleep, Dabi crept out of the bed. He watched you for a moment as you whined, hand-stretched out searching for your alpha. Your hand soon found his scented pillow and you decided it would be your ‘faux’ Dabi. It was adorable. Dabi made sure to snap a few pictures before sneaking out to the living room to make his call. 

“Dabi, this better be fucking good. It’s booty-call hours and I know you’re not calling me for that….unlesssss?”

“Giran shut the fuck up and listen. I want to use some of my money to take Y/N on a small trip for her birthday. Not too extravagant. She hates shit like that,” Dabi was already regretting calling the man. 

“When’s her birthday?” Dabi could hear Giran shuffling around with a piece of paper. He could imagine he was probably writing down information. 

“It was today. She just t-”

“What the fuck, Dabi?!?! How could you forget her FUCKING BIRTHDAY?! SHE’S THE BEST FUCKING THING YOUR SORRY ASS IS GONN-” Dabi had to cool the rage of his inner alpha.

“She just fucking told me, you old, senile bastard. She wasn’t even going to tell me. I found out because her good-for-nothing mother called,” Dabi was pinching the bridge of his nose. He was still pissed you hadn’t shared something so important with him. He was even more pissed at himself for not realizing sooner. 

“Oh...my bad. How soon do you want the plans to be made?”

“As soon as possible. I don’t care how much money it costs to get reservations and shit. I just want to treat her the way she deserves. Also, tell Shigaraki that I’ll be out of commission for the days you book. I mean it. None of you better fucking call me,” his voice dropped an octave. “This is my omega’s time. I’ll let you sorry fucks die if you’re stupid enough to get into trouble while I’m gone.”

“Geez, I get it. I’ll tell the others. If it’s for Y/N, we’ll lay low for a few days,” you had managed to weasel your way into the hearts of the group. Every time one of them had come to your home pleading, you took care of them. Hell, even Shigaraki tolerated you. 

“Thank you,” Dabi meant it. “I’ll let you get back to your sleep.”

Then, he was back in the bed with you. You knew nothing of what had happened and he couldn’t wait to see the look on your face when he told you of the plans he (well, technically Giran) made. 

                                                          ***

“Hell no,” why did you have to be such a difficult omega? “I have a job, Dabi.”

“Baby, it’s only a few days. I know you have more than enough vacation days saved up. Just let your daddy take care of you,” you blushed hard. You had been getting ready for work when Dabi told you he had planned something for your birthday.

“Dabi, I can’t just not show up to work. Plus, I have work to do for this project,” you went to step around your alpha when he grabbed your wrist and pulled you into his chest.

“No, you don’t. I already asked your boss and he said you can come. It’s only for a few days babe. I promise you’ll love it,” he was giving you his pout. You turned your head to the side knowing that you would cave in to his demands the longer he looked at his face. You must resist temptation. You must...you must...you...have never seen Dabi look at you the way he is now. He seems so excited for whatever he has planned. You can’t bring yourself to deny his excitement. 

“Fine. What do I need to pack?” Dabi rejoiced in your defeat, smiling down at you. 

“I’ve already packed for you,” your alpha pulls a suitcase from underneath the bed. Ahhh, so that’s where some of your clothes had gone. “I’ve already got the car outside all gassed up, Giran said he’ll drop by to make sure the house is taken care of, and I’ve got your favorite snacks waiting to be eaten by you.”

This man truly loves you with all his being. You spend the next hours napping in the car per Dabi’s request. Even though you’d never admit it, it feels so good to have a break from working in your work cubicle. Maybe, you’ll decide to take a few more days off more often. After you wake up for your cat-nap, you eat your snacks like a good girl, giggling at any of the stupid roadtrip games Dabi comes up with. 

Every time you ask about your destination, Dabi just shoots you a conspiratorial grin and tells you to “enjoy the ride like a good girl.” You squint your eyes at him the first few times as you think about reaching over to grab his dick. You decide against it, your self-preservation telling you that idea may not be the best course of action. 

The day is slowly turning into evening but you don’t mind. The day has been immaculate at your alpha’s side. 

Eventually, Dabi tells you to close your eyes. You do so with no argument, ready to see what your surprise is (at this point, you’ve learned there is no point in trying to protest). You hear the car stop and Dabi helps you out, his hands covering your eyes as he walks you somewhere. From what you can feel, you’re somewhere with gravel. That revelation does nothing to tell you where you are. 

“How much further?” you whine. You’ve been walking for a few minutes now, every so often you stumble over a pebble, making Dabi laugh.

“How do you manage to trip and I’m literally guiding you?” you huff.

“Answer my question fool,” you yelp as Dabi gives you a quick swat to the butt. You rub the sting away and give him an imaginary glare. 

Instead of answering, he uncovers your eyes to the most beautiful thing you've seen in your life (aside from Dabi ofcourse). A log cabin stands in front of you, large windows spanning from the ground to the ceilings. It looks like it may be made of pine wood. Everything looks so polished and poised. But, that’s not even the best part. 

From where you stand, you can smell water. Walking a few steps ahead of Dabi, you can see a beautiful lake behind the cabin, the water glistening as it reflects the setting sun. Hues of magenta, tangerine, and candy apple sprays across the sky. Light is giving way to night before your very eyes and you feel yourself beginning to tear up. The sandy beach feels heavenly on your toes, the air feels calm and fresh, the lake still sparkling. 

You can still hear Dabi behind you as you wrap your arms around yourself. You try to cry silently but, you just end up full-on sobbing. No one has ever done something so thoughtful for you; no one has cared enough about you to do anything like this.

Your alpha doesn’t ask you what’s wrong. He just keeps you against his chest as he lets you deal with your emotions. By the look on your face, he can tell he’s done a good job by consulting with Giran. 

“Thank you.”

“Anything for my omega,” you grin. You’ll have to start letting him care for you more often if this is what he comes up with.

You both walk along the beach, laughing at each other when either of you trip on the mounds of sand. It’s another moment of calm that is reserved for only the two of you. 

“So, you do like the beach?” Dabi looks nervous as he holds you.

“I love it.”

“Good. It’s our beach now,” and, although it sounds innocent enough, you look at him with squared eyes.

“What do you mean by that?”

“I bought the beach,” give it some time to set in. Okay, maybe a few more moments of digestion.

“YOU DID WHAT?!?!”

—————————————————————————-

TagList💕

@sinclairsamess @sakurashortstack

[chemicalpink]

Tied Desires ♡ Kim Taehyung x Reader

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x female reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: smut (at this point, do i ever write something else?) 

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: rope bunny, soft bdsm dynamic, brat reader, a bit of findom in there, soft dom tae

A/N: this was- a wild ride. A humongous thanks to @erotikkook for coming up with the name and the banner (support Cay’s work or else) AND to the amazing people that beta this @taegularities and @sugasbabiie​ you guys are amazing, I’m sorry you had to see first hand that I write my stuff without punctuation, my mother has always held that against me. Side note, I’m behind in like 20+ assignments from law school and I decided to prioritise this fic. Don’t do that kids.

Summary: Perhaps teasing Taehyung back could get you in deep trouble. It’s not like it wasn’t exactly what you were wishing for tho.

There had always been something so cathartic and almost therapeutic about the arrangement you had with Taehyung; while most of your relationship consisted of sweet glances, funny selcas on social media and the occasional brunch date being photographed to the public eye, the dynamic was turned upside down behind closed doors, lights barely on, the warmth that was brought upon your bodies as you feverishly made out as soon as the entrance door was closed. It was, of course, such a weird occurrence as Taehyung’s job kept piling up. However, lately, his usual playful teasing had turned into full bedroom eyes whenever there was a camera directed at him, the same bedroom eyes and attitude that had been reserved only for you to see for so long; of course something was bound to go down with it.

“Would you like us to get those inside your car?” the lady at the register said as you made sure to place the credit card back into your purse that Taehyung had given you once as an extension to his..

You smiled and nodded at her, stealing a quick glance at the dozen boxes that were scattered around the lobby of the store, most of them being really unnecessary things. But they would serve a common purpose: riling Taehyung up.

Once the boxes were secured in the back of the van, and you had asked Taehyung’s driver to head home for the day. as if on clockwork, your phone dinged a notification of an incoming text, Taehyung’s. Attached to it, and very prominently so, was a recent screenshot of a notification from his bank, asking him to verify his most recent purchase: ₩ 7,000,000 in a single exhibition from Gucci, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, anticipating his next message.

From: Taehyung [14:23] did you just buy 7 million won worth of gucci???  From: Taehyung [14:30] wait up To: Taehyung [14:32] only if you ask nicely 🤪 From: Taehyung [14:32] Y/N….

After making sure to look as close to Tae’s wettest dream as possible, white lingerie on, main bedroom lit only thanks to the subtly warm light coming out of the bathroom, you fixed yourself onto the bed, scrolling through whatever social media, waiting for Taehyung to come home. And he did. Earlier than any other time in the past month, silently making his way to the bedroom.

A dominant aura surrounded him, the exact same one you were hoping to bring out. He licked his lips over and over a few times as he seemed to contemplate you laying there on his bed ready for him, to which you could only stare back at him as he loosened the first few buttons from his shirt, deciding to turn his eyes to the floor where the dozen boxes laid untouched.

You sat up on the bed, hands on your lap, a teasing smile shooting towards your boyfriend as he pulled at some of the ribbons that decorated the black and white containers. Taehyung exhaled loudly, not exasperated, but definitely preparing himself for a punishment you were so loudly asking for. He raised an eyebrow at you as he asked, “You did this to catch my attention, then?”

“Why?” you said, smiling teasingly at him, unable to help it. “Did it work?”

Something feral crossed Taehyung’s eyes before he had one hand wrapped around the back of your neck, hovering over you as his loose hair strands covered his sight almost entirely, adding to his dominating low tone as his grip tightened almost painfully tugging at the roots of your hair. “Oh, so now you think you get to tease me, Y/N?”

He released you from his grip, a smile creeping up to his face as he heard you whimper at the loss of proximity.

“You don’t get to unnecessarily spend my money without having to face consequences, Y/N”, Taehyung said as he went back to the boxes, carefully picking out all of the cloth around each of them until there was a dozen of them on his hand. Your heart thumped violently against your chest in excitement and anticipation when he ordered, “Lay back down Y/N, legs up and open. I wanna hear you beg for me.”

Taehyung resorted to leaning against the vanity that faced the bed directly, the light from the bathroom beside it dimly illuminating the dark composure he adopted as he caressed the bunch of black material he had in his hands. You had always been a big fan of the way he seemed to never lose control once he was in the zone, how he was so seemingly unaffected at having you on full display. Completely at his mercy. 

“What are you waiting for? Panties aside, touch yourself, I wanna hear you scream.” 

Your hand was quick to pull the already sticky lacey cloth aside, biting your lips as the sensation had you already clenching around nothing, just from having Taehyung’s stare burning through you. You wetted your fingers as you caressed your folds, one elbow propping you up enough to have a somewhat clear view of your boyfriend staring back at you.

You rubbed your clit a few times, a moan escaping your lips as you threw your head back in pleasure. Grinding your hips into your hand, you rubbed yourself with the flats of four of your fingers, in an effort to increase the much needed friction as you felt yourself get wetter.

“Were you really that desperate for me, baby?” Tae’s tone was borderline mocking as he smirked to himself, barely sparing a glance at you whining on the bed; out of the corner of your eye you could see him tying up the black ribbons to one another. Feeling something stirring on your lower belly, you pinched your clit in an effort to ride out your orgasm, which was quickly cut off when Tae’s hand pushed yours out of the way as you felt your eyes prickling with tears at the sudden loss of pleasure. “Naughty girls don’t get to come so fast, Y/N.”

Taehyung’s fingers lightly caressed your folds, coating them with your wetness before he slipped them into his mouth teasingly, tasting you on his tongue for a brief second before he had you sitting on your feet, hands in your lap again as he took the homemade rope he had knotted while you’d touched yourself.

“Tonight’s safeword is gucci.” He glanced for the uptenth time at the unopened packages. “Bet you won’t forget that one.”

He moved to sit right in front of you, shirt sleeves around the mid of his arms as he took both of your wrists in his hand and started wrapping the silky material around them, binding them together.

“Put your hands behind your head, baby,” Taehyung said, continuing to wrap the rope expertly around your body, restricting most movements without hurting you too much. “Bend over a bit.” His fingers caressed your perked nipples almost unintentionally as he brought the tied ribbons to the front, face perfectly calm and concentrated as he made sure to frame your breasts with the material before bringing it down your waist and back once again. “Perfect. How do you feel?”

“Good.” You would’ve been lying if you’d said that you weren’t at least a little bit excited and nervous after going so long without one of your sessions with Tae, but at the end of the day, you knew there was no one else in the world you could leave your body at their entire mercy other than him. The rope was wrapped around your hips in no time, thighs stuck together as he manhandled you onto your knees. You were unable to hold yourself up, face against the mattress, ass up and completely exposed to him as he finished his work and stood back to appreciate it.

“The teasing game is one you can’t win against me, Y/N,” he said as his hands continued the work you had begun a few minutes prior to being completely tied up, lewd noises echoing against the walls as he wasted no time in inserting a couple of fingers into your cunt, a loud moan slipping past your lips. “You’re free to try, but you’ll end up like this every single time.”

He continued to work your orgasm up until he could feel you clenching down on his fingers, thighs trembling in anticipation before a low laugh bubbled up from his throat as he removed his hands from you. He left you whimpering against his sheets every time like a vicious cycle, tears running down your cheeks as you couldn’t even slightly move to relieve the pain that having him denying you orgasms for four times gave you.

“Aww look at you, so prettily ruined for me, Y/N.” His fingers had started to build up a turmoil in your lower abdomen once again as he methodically caressed your folds before thrusting two fingers into you lazily in favour of holding a conversation. “I guess I could let you cum this one time. Seven million won is really nothing, I keep that money as spare change.”

“Y-yes please, Tae.” Your pleasure built up faster than before as Taehyung leaned down to mouth at your folds, warm tongue working circles around your bud and fingers working you through the greatest orgasm you could ever ask for. The slurping noises took over the sound of your rigged breath and heavy whimpers as you came on his tongue, him moaning against you as your thighs spasmed violently. You could feel your eyes closing against your will, body and mind overcome with tiredness, yet somehow hazy and feeling like floating from being deprived of such activities for so long.

In the background you could hear Taehyung fiddling with the drawer of his bedside table before he cut the most restrictive parts of the rope around your wrists and thighs. “Did I hurt you?” His soft persona was back as he peppered your face with kisses, fingers wiping your tears away before he cut the rest of the silky ribbon, hands immediately massaging your tender skin.

“Not really, I missed that actually. I missed you.”

His face softened as he took your face between his hands, pouring all of his love in a kiss, an apology and a love letter at the same time as his mouth moved in sync with your own. “I’ll run you a bath and then we can order takeout. You’ll have to share your newly renovated and exclusively Gucci wardrobe though.” 

You nodded slightly at him while already having your head resting on the pillow, sleep taking over you as you faintly heard your boyfriend running the water to fill up the bathtub for you. 

[fishstyx]

russian roulette.

featuring. nagito komaeda x fem!reader

wc. 2.0k

genre. smut, dark/taboo

tw. 18+ nsfw, noncon, penetration, gunplay, degradation/humiliation

synopsis. nagito follows you into the final dead room and shows you the proper way to play russian roulette. drv2 spoilers/context (chapter 4) ahead.

“And just what do you think you’re doing here?” Nagito says from behind you, his sudden utterance booming off the solid concrete surroundings. An uncharacteristic disgust drips from his every word, drawn out so painfully slowly that you’re convinced he thinks you a mere toddler.

“Playing the Life-Threatening Game,” you reply as nonchalantly as possible, but he’s caught you unawares. You startle even as you speak, the shudder of your body undoubtedly making its way into your voice. You’re sure that the door had locked behind you, so just how did he manage to slip in while the game was still in progress? Not to mention that the person in front of you doesn’t truly seem like Nagito Komaeda. Sure, he’s always had his quirks, but right now it feels like you’re talking to… somebody else.

“With only one bullet?” is Nagito’s only response as he creeps toward you, frown deepening when you back away, gun clutched to your chest. 

“And what about it?” You do your best to plaster on a brave face, but your arm hits the wall behind you and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of how small, how suffocating the Final Dead Room is with another person in it. He lets out a heavy sigh as he corners you, box of bullets in hand. The clatter of metal rings in your ears when he presses you into the blood-stained walls, leaning into your ear to whisper:

“That’s not nearly enough.” He fishes the revolver from your shaky hand with ease, the clinking of extra bullets following soon after. “Even someone like you understands, don’t you?” He loads round after round into the gun, pressing bullets into each chamber until they’re flush against the cylinder surface, and it’s all you can do just to watch. “That the payout of this game rests upon the difficulty you set it to.” 

On top of you still, he picks the sixth bullet up and waves it in your face, almost mockingly. “It’s safe to assume that the killer, a coward among cowards, played it safe and loaded a single bullet same as you did. And as for me—well, I’ve already cleared the highest level.” Sliding the final bullet in with a click, he pushes the cylinder back into the gun frame with marked familiarity. “At least, I thought it was the highest level.” 

“H...huh? Highest level?” you wonder as loud as you dare, earning a scoff from Nagito. 

“And here I was thinking you could follow along with a simple explanation. How short-sighted of me. Well, you can save your questions for later.” Smirking at the sight of your mouth agape, he spins the cylinder before you can interrupt again. “As I was saying, I only thought I was playing at the highest level. But thinking back on it now...” His face draws close to yours, hot breath tickling your skin as he rests the muzzle flat against your quivering lips. “Wouldn’t it be something if you survived this?”

Holy shit.

You struggle under Nagito’s weight, legs going weak under the looming threat of death. How did you let this happen? One wrong move and you’d be nothing but an addition to the bloodstains behind you. “T-This isn’t funny, Nagito.” Your lips tremble around the revolver, heavy and icy to the touch, when it doesn’t budge an inch. 

“What I’m trying to say,” he continues, unfazed, “is that your efforts will be pointless if you don’t go all out here. We’ll learn nothing new if I let you play the way you want to.” You hear the words, and yet you can’t make sense of them. Not when the classmate before you holds your very life in his hand.

“Nagito, please—” you say more forcefully, heart pounding all the while.

“Please what?”

“P-Please put the gun down.” But one look at his face and you know he’s not having it.

“Oh, so you’re not going to pull the trigger? Even if I do it with you?” Sheer disappointment crosses Nagito’s features as he deliberates, armed hand never so much as faltering. He studies your face in silence, the break from his ranting more eerie than comforting. The temperature of the room drops several degrees when he finally speaks again. 

“Oh, I know.” He lowers the gun only to drag it down your neck and along your chest, drawing wide circles around your buds. “Hopeless halfwits like you need a little incentive, don’t you think?”

“That’s not what I—” 

You’re cut off by your own sharp inhale as the gun presses into your abdomen, tracing the outline of your thighs and traveling even lower still. It runs up and down that sensitive spot between your legs, poking and prodding near your deepest nooks and crannies, testing for a reaction. And he eventually gets one, a soft groan tumbling past your lips when he grinds the muzzle against your clit—and although clothed, it sends waves of electricity straight to your core. 

“You were saying?” Nagito laughs when you fail to respond, mortified by your own body’s betrayal. It’s as if you’re frozen in time. Your heart practically leaps out your chest and your eyes, wide as saucers, flicker from the gun to Nagito, Nagito to the gun, and back again. It feels like an entire lifetime passes you by when he continues to brush against the sensitive nub, chasing after another reaction, but you’re paralyzed now. You watch in slow motion as he grows impatient, fingers dipping below your waistband, pulling your panties down just far enough for the tip of the barrel to kiss your bare cunt. 

Move. Move. Move, you tell yourself. Your head throbs and your fingers twitch. He can’t kill you, not in the middle of an investigation. Not when another student was just murdered. Not unless... 

You search Nagito’s cat-like eyes for some glimmer of humanity, a silent plea, a probe into the void itself—one that leaves you with more questions than answers.

Not unless he’s the killer himself.

With the wicked smile he’s sporting, much too twisted and much too wide, you don’t doubt it for a second. But he gives you no time for critical thought, instead plunging the gun deep inside your pulsating pussy, not a moment spared to prep you.

Your back arches instinctively; you weren’t ready for this, not in a million years would you ever be ready for a pistol to slide inside you, such a cold and stiff thing spreading your walls without so much as a warning. It’s so far up that the trigger guard presses into your clit, bundle of nerves puffy and swollen from all the stimulation. A searing sensation emanates from between your thighs and you can’t help but let out a little yelp.

“N-Nagito! Wait...” you try again, a pathetic mewl more than anything else, but it doesn’t seem to register. His expression is unreadable as he inches the gun out little by little, sliding your pants down to get a better view. And then he pauses when the muzzle surfaces from your entrance.

That’s when you see it. The gun’s barrel, glistening with arousal, glistering in liquid coating, and he just holds it there as if to say, would you look at that—you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?

“You know, it’s hard to understand you when you mumble.” You choke up when he suddenly jams the gun back in, stroking—no, pounding your gummy insides with fevered delight, your slimy slick squelching below you, pit of your stomach unraveling as the metal warms itself up with the heat of your core. 

A shameless whimper escapes you when he keeps up the pace, dynamic movement burying the pain in pleasure, your mind swirling with delirity. This shouldn’t feel good. And when you stop to think about it, it really doesn’t. Your walls are raw, sensitive, and throbbing, but some primal part of you is overflowing with desire, getting off on the thrill. 

Because every time the rigid ridges of the barrel burrow into you, the knot in your stomach tightens, threatening to cut loose. The gun bottoms out inside you over and over again, relentless in its constant push and pull. It forces your body into submission, coaxing it into something limp, ragdoll, and unrecognizable because the stimulation is just that overwhelming. Your knees begin to give out; it’s too much, the way your tight heat flutters around the pistol, his pistol, juices soaking your clothes and dripping out onto the floor. 

“Nng-Nagito, please stop, I-I can’t—” You struggle to find the right words, stuttering incomprehensibly.

“Hmm, can’t go on? Would you rather be doing... something else?” He cocks the hammer to remind you of your place and you shake your head vigorously, trying desperately not to think about the possibility of death, as well as the ache that grows ever stronger in your core.

“How utterly disgusting. So you admit you actually want this,” he practically spits, your pathetic pussy pulsing in response. 

That’s not true. 

“With a body like this, are you sure your talent isn’t the Ultimate Slut?” 

It really isn’t, you think. But something about his tone of voice makes you clench even tighter around the gun’s barrel, senses punctuated by his ceaseless pumping into that one spongy spot that has you curling your toes. Saltwater threatens to spill over your eyes when he points it out: “I can’t believe it, you’re basically sucking it in. Dirty fucking whore, making my job harder for me.” 

Your cheeks heat up in shame, thighs shifting wider when he nudges them apart, holding them right where he wants you. You squeak when he plunges the gun impossibly deeper, eyes rolling to the back of your head when you realize you’re about to come undone.

The world shudders when you cum on and over the pistol, the overflow drenching Nagito’s hand. A lewd moan like no other resonates throughout the room—and then you realize that it’s yours, that it’s you who’s moaning, you who’s seeing stars while creaming all over a loaded gun. The tears are painting your cheeks now, exquisite sting doing little to comfort you. His hand stills and you collapse to the floor, exhausted from reaching your high, gun still nestled deep inside you.

Sighing in defeat, Nagito crouches beside you, eyeing you like one would a wriggling maggot. You can’t even begin to imagine what you look like, arms and legs splayed out in haphazard angles, eyes glazed over, your mouth wide open as you pant like a bitch in heat. He taps the side of the gun with a sole fingernail.

“Go on, then. Take it out.”

It takes the last of your energy to swing your arm over, hand clenching the grip of the gun in slothful momentum. It’s hard to think straight. It’s hard to think about anything at all besides your sluggish relief. 

Finally. It’s finally over. The lingering effects of your orgasm die out as you’re left with nothing but the violating weapon stuck up your abused hole. It’s all you can do just to tug on it.

But as soon as you start to pull on it, Nagito grabs ahold, his grip much stronger than your own. Everything in its place, exactly how he wanted it. His smile is torturous, haunting.

“Got you.” He guides, or rather forces, your index finger to its rightful place on the trigger, and you do little to struggle.

“No, no more—” Your voice comes out a meek rasp, labored breath falling upon deaf ears.

“Bang,” he says unceremoniously, pressing your finger into the trigger.

“Say, Nagito, tell me something.” Monokuma turned his gaze from the pitiful sight of your passed out form, left to soak in your own juices on the cold hard ground. “You didn’t happen to rig the game, now, did you?”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Monokuma,” Nagito said as he snatched the prize from the duocolor teddy bear, a hefty file embossed in gold letters that read, clear as day: Makoto Naegi. A knowing smile crept to his lips as he pawed through its contents. 

“The gun jammed, fair and square.”

fishstyx © 2021 ✸ all content and their rights belong to me. do not repost, reproduce, or modify anywhere.

[xxreader-writerxx]

Study Buddy (Part 3)

3.4k Word Count

Fred Weasley x Fem Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Drinking, Dom/Sub relationship, humiliation kink, sir kink, degradation, bondage, sense deprivation, unprotected sex (there's fetus deletus in this world not ours so USE A CONDOM AND STAY SAFE YOU RABBITS unless like- there's a plan and stuff-) Blindfold, Gagging, use of a vibrator, choking, overstimulation,

Y/N= Your Name L/N= Your Last Name Y/H= Your House

I walk into the Gryffindor Common Room passing Fred and George and feel a light tap on my bum. I jump a little and Fred winks at me covertly. I walk over to the couches blushing. Me and Fred have been dating for about 5 months secretly. We have a bet going to see who finds out first, my friends or his. He strongly believes he will win but I’m firm in that George’s smart enough to solve the case. I sit next to Hermione drinking the butterbeer next to me and stop seeing her looking at me accusingly. “What?” I ask and she shrugs. “Just Fred slapping your ass...” She mutters and I cough surprised at her accusation. “W-what?!” I ask and she chuckles. “You two...” She mutters going back to her book.

George and Fred run back in grabbing me, Lee, Hermione, and a few others dragging us to their dorm. “Yes?” Hermione finally asks and they hold up firewhiskey chanting happily with the other boys. Me and Hermione just laugh shaking our heads. “What y/n? Scared?” Fred asks and I chuckle. “No. I just don’t think anyone in here can handle their alcohol.” I explain and they scoff.

***

A few hours and a few drinks later I am proven correct by a bunch of drunk teenagers presented in front of me, and myself only a little tipsy. Fred and George are giggling with Lee. Hermione and Harry are cuddling under a blanket. And I’m just watching this mess giggling. Fred moves over to me and I laugh as he lays his head on my thigh humming lightly. “Lets- play truth or- dare.” He says hiccupping through his sentence. “Yeah!” George slurs out and I laugh shaking my head.

A few rounds go by and Fred is still playing with my hands goofily. I keep pulling my hands from his chuckling and he finally whines putting his head in my stomach. “Why won’t you hold my hand….” He whines in my stomach and I look up to see the group isn’t paying attention. I pull him up and kiss his temple. “Darling they don’t know we’re dating...” I hum into his ear and he still whines reaching for my hand. I chuckle, finally giving in hiding our hands behind him. “Ok Fred.” George says, catching our attention. “You can either take a sip of the Veritaserum and confess your feelings about y/n… Or… Y/n has to sit on your lap for the rest of the game.” He tells him and my eyes widen. He gets up to grab the bottle but I swing my legs around him facing away from the group. “Well we know what y/n wanted...” George scoffs and I hold up a middle finger behind me making the group laugh. Fred smiles nuzzling his head against my neck as I do the same. “I love you...” He whispers in my ear and I perk up looking at him. He widens his eyes and starts stuttering. “I love you too...” I whisper in his ear and I can feel him smile against my neck.

An hour later everyone's asleep but me and Fred. He’s whispering cute things in my ear as I giggle lightly and he nips at my neck making more giggles spring from my mouth. “You’re so pretty… You should always have your hair like this.” He whispers quietly and I giggle playing with his shirt. “It is always like this.” I reply and he smiles goofily. “Even better.” He mumbles. “God you're hot… Are you single?” He says and I laugh shaking my head. “Freddie… I’m your girlfriend...” I tell him and he smiles silently celebrating. I kiss him to stop his excited noises from waking everyone up and he immediately melts into my kiss closing his eyes softly. I move to his neck as he lightly moans pressing his lips against my skin to muffle it. I nip the side of his ear as he lightly groans against my skin. “Darling can we please leave? I can’t handle this anymore… I need to touch you...” He whimpers into my ear and I chuckle. “Aw… But we can’t… They would notice...” I say. He’s usually very dominant but in his tipsy state he is acting as if he was always a submissive partner. I want to see how long this will last before he decides to take the dominant role back.

He groans in my ear as I kiss his neck. “T-they won’t notice I p-promise...” He whimpers into my ear and I nod pouting a little. “But you're all intoxicated… It would be taking advantage.” I tell him and his face is now red as he tries to keep his moans down. “I promise… Please let me touch you... and your drunk too!” He mumbles and I bite my lip. “One, I'm buzzed. Two, we need to get you to bed before you get all horny.” I whisper, taking his hand. I get up walking him out and he follows.

We get into my room and I help him inside the bathroom. “Strip.” I say and he scoffs. “You… don’t tell me what to do.” He retorts falling a bit. “But I do.” I say and he scoffs. I nod and walk over peeling his clothes as he whines. I kiss his cheek shoving him inside the shower once it warms up. When I try to walk out he whines louder. “What bubba?” I ask and he crosses his arms. “I want you..” He mumbles and I laugh. “Freddie… You’re drunk I’m not going to get naked with Drunk You.” I tell him and he pouts. “I won’t get handsy. I promise!” He tells me and I kiss his cheek softly. “I know… I just don’t trust myself.” I tell him with a wink. “No no no you can’t say that and leaveeeeee.” He whines and I laugh. He pulls me and I yelp. I get immediately drenched and start laughing at the feeling. “Fred!” I yell at him and he chuckles pulling me in for a kiss. “I shouldn’t be in here...” I say chuckling and he laughs. “The last time you said that you ended up giving in...” He hums with a giggle hiding behind his voice. I laugh nodding and he kisses me. The kisses are sloppy but still perfect as he tries his best to stand up. He keeps trying to get to my neck as I giggle trying my best not to give in but sadly my boyfriend is far too hot for that.

“Godric… I wish I could always hold you like this… No hiding… No stolen kisses… I don’t have to smack your arse with people assuming the truth… I just want us to be known ya know? No girls flirting with me… No boys always chasing you… Just us...” He mumbles into my neck and I pull away smiling at him. “You mean that?” I ask and he nods kissing me. “I love you y/n…” He tells me and I kiss him jumping up to wrap my legs around his hips

***

The next day I wake up beside Fred who looks a mess. “Fred...” I sing and he mumbles something digging his head into my chest which he was using as a pillow. “You need to wake uppp.” I whisper in his ear and he mumbles again. “Freddie… What will get you up?” I ask and he raises his head a little squinting at me. “A potion to make this hangover go away...” He tells me and I nod getting up. He quickly tries to get me back but I’m too quick and he groans. “What happened last night?” He asks after moments of silence. “Nothing much… You were dared to either confess how you truly felt about me or I had to sit on your lap...” I tell him as I gather herbs from my drawers. “Oh?” He asks sitting up. I nod and he watches as I make the potion. “Well… What did I do?” He asks and I laugh. I start to grind the herbs together as I pour in some oils. “You were going to confess that you loooved me but I sat on your lap.” I tell him and he chuckles shyly. “You were so handsy too. Couldn’t keep your hands off of me.” I tell him and he gets up worried. “I’m so sorry. Did I make you uncomfortable. Godric, I’m so sorry.” He tells me and I laugh shaking my head. “It was cute. And you would always stop- usually when I had enough.” I tell him and he nods. “I drank way too much- and I am good at handling my drinks.” He tells me and I laugh. I finish the potion and motion for him to sit against the headboard.

I start to rub the solution on his temple. It glows for a second and disappears. I kiss him and he smiles against my lips, sighing contently. I nod in agreement and he kisses me again. “So… Anything else?” He asks and I chuckle sitting on his lap. “Nothing really… You were adorable.” I tell him choosing not to involve the drunk ‘I love you’ and his upset rant about wanting us to be public.

***

I walk into the party and Fred immediately locks eyes with me. He walks over and eyes my short skirt that barely covers my bum. “Aren’t you supposed to be a cute follow the rules girl?” He asks and I laugh. “Why are you asking?” I ask him and he smirks. He moves me into a secluded area where you can only see inside at an angle lifting my chin. “Y/n… That skirt is extremely inappropriate. I don’t remember breaking any school rule… So why are you breaking mine?” He asks and I chuckle. I jump a little feeling him grip my thighs. “Darling. You need to listen to my rules.” He tells me as he massages my bum. “Well… I wanted to dress nice today.” I tell him and he picks me up wrapping my legs around him. I laugh looking around shocked at his boldness. “Godric I don’t care I need you...” He mumbles kissing me passionately. I kiss him back and feel his tongue slip past my lips. He takes his time exploring my mouth as I moan to every movement.

“Freddie...” I mumble and he looks at me through his long hair smiling. “Yes bunny?” He asks using the nickname he saves for special moments. “We are going to get caught.” I tell him laughing and he nods sadly. “One more kiss?” He asks pouting. I laugh nodding as he kisses me again. We take longer to separate and finally do, needing some form of oxygen. We laugh out of breath placing our foreheads together smiling goofily. “I love you Fred Weasley...” I mumble and he smiles. “I love you Y/n L/n” He replies and we hear George nearby. He drops me and I pull out my wand apparating across the room. I see George catch Fred and he walks out flattening his button down.

I watch as George introduces Fred to a girl I know from my house. She always talks about a new boy every week. Annoys the hell out of me. I walk over to grab a drink. When I turn around I catch eyes with a familiar ginger. He smiles winking at me and George taps my shoulder. “Y/n- Y/nnnn you’re staringggg.” He hums and I snap back. “Hm?” I ask and he scoffs. “You need to tell him how you feel.” He tells me and I laugh. “Please. He doesn’t like me like that.” I lie and he shakes his head. “If you continue ignoring your feelings for him he’ll get snatched up.” He tells me and I sigh. “That girl? Fiona? She asked me to introduce her to him. She fancies him.” He tells me and I nod sighing.

A few drinks and dances later I’m keeping my eyes on Fred as he talks with a few girls. A few guys have hit on me but I reject their advances. I see Fiona finally drag him to the dance floor and my blood boils seeing it. A few more minutes later a guy comes up to me smiling and Fred’s still dancing.

“Edward.” He tells me, holding out his hand. “That’s a lovely name, am I to assume it's yours?” I ask with a small laugh. “Sorry… That was a bit random huh?” He asks and I nod laughing lightly. “You are… Beautiful by the way.” He tells me and I smile warmly. “Thank you… If a boy this handsome thinks I’m pretty, wow.” I say and he smiles a bit wider. “So… Do you have a date hanging around?” He asks and I glance over at Fred and he’s staring directly at me cocking his head with his tongue in his cheek. “Actually… I don’t think so… There's this boy but he’s off dancing with a girl.” I tell him and he looks as if he witnessed a cosmic event. “Why?! If I had you I’d never even look at a girl.” He tells me and I laugh placing my hand on his knee. “You are too kind.” I reply and he smiles at me.

I talk with Edward for a while and I hear Fred getting everyone's attention. “For everyone's knowledge! Severus Snape has officially gotten what he deserved for those horrible grades.” He yells to the crowd and George stands up with him. “Thanks to yours truly.” He says with a bow. “What did you do?!” A girl in the crowd asks and he snaps at her. “Let’s just say, he’ll have the hiccups for a while.” Fred yells out and George nods laughing.

I look at Edward who is laughing his arse off. “Those two...” I say. I excuse myself and walk over. Fred looks at me challengingly. “Yes?” He asks me and I scoff. “Pranking a professor?!” I ask and he nods smiling. “Best prank yet.” He tells me and I scoff. “What the hell got into your mind to do that?!” I ask and he nods at Edward. “How was your boyfriend?” He questions and I scoff. “You hypocritical, jealous, bastard!” I tell him and he looks at me angrily. “Do I need to do graffiti? Do not try me. No cursing.” He tells me pointing at me and I scoff. “Fuck. Damn. Shit. Pussy. Cunt. Dick.” I tell him and he shakes his head. “Bedroom. Now. You better be stripped naked sitting like a princess when I get there.” He spits in my ear and I look at him angrily. “No.” I say stomping my foot. “You bratty little...” He mumbles and I stomp over to Edward. “Lets dance.” I tell him, grabbing his hand. “O-Ok!” He replies as I drag him to the dance floor.

He holds my hips against his as I dance and I see Fred eyeing me angrily as Fiona fawns over him. We dance for a while as Edward grinds against me and we just move in sync. I look over and he’s walking over done with my teasing. He grabs my arm dragging me to a table pulling me up. “What- What are you doing Fred?!” I ask and he looks at me. “Sir.” He corrects and I blush. He pulls me in and kisses me harshly in front of everyone. I pull away shocked and he smirks. I finally crash my lips into his as he holds my arse keeping me where I was. “I knew it!” I hear Hermione yell and we laugh continuing the kiss. “Sir… I need you...” I whisper in his ear and he smiles.

We get to his dorm deep into a kiss as he shrugs his button down off quickly, mumbling the spells to silence and lock the door. “Get undressed. Now.” He growls and I nod. He sits on his chair rubbing up and down his cock as he watches me get undressed. I sit down between my legs looking at him through my eyelashes innocently. “Go on… Lay down.” He tells me and I follow his orders.

He moves each hand to tie them to the corners of the bed. “What’s the safe word my dear?” He asks with a hint of concern. “Avocadoo. Which I highly request we change. Its idiotic.” I tell him and he chuckles. “You know the other idea...” He hums chuckling. “I will not ever say Mischief Managed during sex.” I tell him and he chuckles kissing me and slowly going down to my neck leaving small bruises all over my skin from his lips. I slowly turn my light demeanor to moans and begs as he massages my chest lightly kissing my shoulders. “You were a bad girl today weren’t you?” He asks and I nod biting my lip and he grabs my chin. “So you know you were being bad.” He says sternly and my eyes widen shaking my head. “And… I broke zero rules… I think my bad girl needs punishment.” He tells me and I gasp lightly as he places a blindfold on my eyes but I feel his warm lips kissing me to calm me a little. “Just a blindfold darling...” He tells me and I nod.

I hear a vibrator and start moving my legs trying to get free until a slap against my bum tells me no. “Good girl...” He mumbles watching me calm. “Now continue being a good girl while I fuck you senseless.” He tells me and I feel him place the vibrator on my clit and I try fighting his hold moaning loudly at the extremely high setting. “Now… You are going to get this until I feel you’ve learned your lesson. So my question is… What are you darling?” He asks and I don’t listen. “What. Are. You?” He demands and I ignore him again only to earn him to raise the vibrator to its highest setting.

“I’m a slut!” I moan loudly and he laughs. “What are you?” He asks again and I moan begging him. “A slut!” I moan again and he holds my throat. “Who’s slut? Edwards?” He asks and I shake my head. “I’m your slut!” I moan and he tightens his hold a little. “Say it again. 5 more times.” He tells me. Just as I begin moaning out the sentence again he shoves a gag in my mouth making me gasp. I try to say it through the gag and I almost finish when he plays loud music and I feel tears well up in my eyes. “Please sir!” I moan and he ignores me either not hearing or not caring.

A few minutes later I’ve came twice, he finally turns off the music. “Are you my slut?” He asks and I nod. “Can you try one more time, my perfect toy?” He asks and I nod tired. He pulls off the vibrator cleaning it with a spell and removes my blindfold kissing my small tears from my cheeks untying the ties on my legs. “Are you sure? You could cause an earthquake with those legs… And you're really shaky.” He says cheekily and I chuckle leaning my head back. “You have me in bed Weasley, I think you can stop flirting.” I tell him and he laughs kissing my neck as I moan still tired. “But I love flirting with you...” He mumbles and I feel his legs go on either side of my hips. “Ok. Last time: You are sure? Cause I can wank off on my own if you’re tired.” He asks and I laugh. “Freddie I’m ok.” I tell him and he nods, kissing me softly. I feel him place a pillow under my hips aligning himself with my entrance.

“Fuck...” He moans as he slides inside. He lets me adjust then slowly starts to go back and forth speeding up until he’s at a good speed. He kisses my breasts leaving bruises as he rams into me. He finishes quickly, probably from wanking off while I was under the vibrator. He collapses on my chest kissing me lightly. “I love you...” He mumbles repeating it after every kiss. He unties me carrying me to the bathroom. “Bubble bath?” He asks and I nod excitedly.

After the bath we walk out in new clothes to see George and Hermione smirking at us. “KNEW IT- THEY WERE!” Hermione says as he hands her a sack of money. “What the hell Fred?! Couldn’t you just be a pussy and not ask her out?!” He asks and we laugh. “Hey darling? Hermione found out.” He sings in my ear and I laugh walking over to my purse grabbing the money. I shove it into his chest and he smiles at me goofily. He pulls me in and I yelp as he kisses me. “I hate you both.”

[jadelynlace]

Ink Drinker / Modern Vikings AU [Ivar x F!Reader], Chapter 5

catch up here!

synopsis: Ivar was only meant to be a friend with benefits, but he caught feelings for his older brother’s best friend, and co-worker: you.

pairing: Ivar x F!Reader

***content warning [PLEASE READ]: this chapter is quite gruesome, please read at your own risk. yes this is based off of a trauma call I actually went to, and yes I am sparing some of the sicker details because it truly was one of the worst calls I had ever walked in on. and yes, it actually happened this way and yes, this helps me heal from it. ok, that is all.

author’s note: I’m so sorry.

✎

A sinful noise comes from Ivar’s mouth in the exact moment you entered in through the threshold. Truthfully, the sound sent a shiver down your spine, worrisome as the twenty four hour shift ended and Ivar had chosen to go to your flat last night, not his own. 

“Why are you in my house, Ivar?” You say to him, eyes scanning over his half naked body as it tangled throughout the sheets, biceps set to curling around the rather feminine color of your duvet.

“Good morning to you too,” Ivar says back with a yawn that croaks from his mouth as he pulls the covers back. “Come lay with me,” Your mind rolls ideas between your ears, behind your eyes as you calculate why Ivar willingly came to your empty place the night prior, when he knew you were working yourself to death on the back of a never ending ambulance.

“That didn’t answer my question, Ivar,” Your voices teases him as you walk about the small space, pulling pins from your collar. He goes silent after your statement, moving the blankets to cover his face out of a twinge of embarrassment, not sure how you would take to learning that he felt better here. Felt happier, even when you weren’t home it gave him that sense that he wasn’t alone. You peek your head back to make out the large mound under the duvet, Ivar rolling under it and flopping on to his stomach. Tossing the discarded blues into your hamper, the tags, keys, pins and your tactical belt are all put away neatly in their homes as you pull on a shirt that no longer has a real shape to it. Ivar’s eyes peel open when you creep the covers off of his face, the cold air rushing against his skin and you’re in his vision—not as blurry to his glasses-less eyes as you make way to snuggle into him.

“Don’t want to creep you out,” Ivar says to you lowly, voice hoarse like sandpaper, scratching in its new use and you only turn your head to give him a sideways look. “It makes me feel better to be here,” He finally admits, fingers busying themselves with the loose hem on your shirt as he still won’t look at you. “Makes me feel less alone even if you’re not here,” You want to sigh, you want to cup his cheeks and push them together like he’s a toddler who’s being too damn adorable for your undertaking, but you can’t. These are words that took him a while to finally speak, progress for what darkness seems to leech in his mind at all hours, and now only a sliver of light comes through because he’s telling you how he feels. The reasoning behind it all, the baring of his soul on the bedsheets and stark naked with his emotions.

“You can come here whenever you want Ivar, you know that.” You say back, eyes searching his and they close briefly, sighing in a moment of relief because you’re not throwing him out on to the street for his choice. “Anything that makes you feel better, you should do,” You tell him, a peck to the corner of his mouth as you settle against him. “As long as it’s legal,” You add quickly, picking your head up in haste to move your point across and Ivar only chuckles as you do.

“You know what makes me feel better?” Ivar whispers and he’s climbs over you, pressing a weight to rein over you and you giggle. Sluggish as he moves with his hair tickling your face and he’s finally made the leeway with his figure, bending his forearms to catch his weight.

“What makes you feel better?” You ask him, looking up at this man who is so hopelessly in love with you he doesn’t even care to hide it on his face.

“You make me feel better,” Ivar tells you and the words hardly escape before his lips are against yours. Languid and soft, relishing in how your nails scratch up his back, humming as they press along his skin like keys on a piano and he finally drops his weight. Laying over you as his lips find their place on your pulse point, grazing the skin like thousands of little needles and you let a breathless moan pass from your tongue. Ivar only hums in response as his mouth stays busy, splotching you and navigating the skin to make sure more of the dots will stay hidden when you put your blues back on. His forehead rests on the length of your collarbone, his hand moving around the mattress to find yours. “I’ve never been in love until I met you,” Ivar whispers against you skin, sinking the praise into your pores and it shatters your heart but repairs it just as quickly. Resting his cheek he finally looks up at you, dragging his fingertips down your nose and there’s a low light that’s dancing off of his features, paling his blue eyes as he gazes at you.

“I love you, too Ivar,” You say softly and you mean the sentence with every single fiber in your body. You’d say it until you were blue in the face if it helped to heal every demon in his mind. He smiles as you say it, like he still can’t believe his luck.

“Want you—but I know you’re tired,” He mumbles and his lips take back to the game against your skin and you know he doesn’t mean to try to turn you in his favor. But you tell him about the coffee you had—more than you should have had if you planned to sleep some of the day away and he’s moving back over you again. Worshipping you with each press of his lips, each roll of his hips as he grinds down against your spread legs. He’s not rushed with how he feels you, how he only kicks his pants off and pulls your bottoms off as you undress fully for him, his eyes just watching your skin as he kisses each knee cap and then he’s back over you. Mouth against yours as the tip of his cock brushes against your opening, how that small notion is already so heavenly and when he’s finally pushing into you, you’re holding back on to him. Letting him know you’re there as he moves slowly in the morning light. Heavy breathing and soft mews between the both of you while Ivar brings you to your peek with the rolls of his hips and his tongue on yours. And he falls with you, panting and coating your walls and humming in pure contentment because this is a sensation he never wants to forget, never lose, as long as he lives, sleeping the morning away tangled between you and the sheets.

*

It had rolled into another slow morning left with nothing other to do than mop the bay’s floors and terrorize Hvitserk with unruly sprays from the soap gun. Laughing as he flinched, all but made inhuman noises whenever your aim got closer to his pristine blues. You two had gone on coffee runs, stopping to grab lunch and snacking away with boots up on the benches as another unrealistic drama show flashes from the screen. It was a bright change for the days that you two had spent together, but the quietness was never welcomed completely without the slow thoughts of what was to come lingering behind it. A car into a semi-truck. Hvitserk tipped his head back and groaned so loudly he nearly fell backwards from his chair. At least you were just able to blaze through the streets of town with loud horns and bright sirens and command the authority to have everyone bow to your right of way. 

It was warm, growing increasingly so in the last few hours and the sun hung well above the road. Scattered with the remains of scrap metal, tangled mess of a car and the comically unbent eighteen wheeler. The fire engine met you on the scene, already blinking with two police cars and in your maneuvering to park the rig close, you caught more of the vehicle wreck. A tangled mess of a black mustang and you could feel the blood drain from your face as your heart stopped.

“Hvitserk,” You whine and that snaps his attention from the back the rig as he’s pulling gloves for both of you. “Oh my god Hvitserk it’s Ivar,” You all but yell and he bolts from the back of the double doors to round the ambulance. And then he sees it. And you see it. Your partner takes off, no protective gear as a shield and you grab him, locking an arm to pull him back as a look of panic crosses him like a field. “Focus,” You hiss at him. “Do your job and fucking focus—you’re the best medic on the god damn team and you need to prove that right now,” But you could say the speech until you’re blue in the face, gasping as the words fall with no meaning because Hvitserk is out of control for the first time ever on a call.

“He’s awake in there,” A voice calls from the other side of the car.

“Get the trauma bag.” You call to your partner and then you take off, steel toes rounding the car and there’s no door to open anymore. Just a blown out rear view window that’s already been cut by those jaws. You see Ivar blink and your mind shuts off completely. 

“Hey baby,” His voice rasps when he sees you in his sight, picking his head up while the crushed front end of the car covers his legs like a blanket. Your heart is stabbed with a knife and you can’t worry about that right now, you can’t worry about how you feel because your uniform is telling you that you’re the only hope for the man you so deeply love.

“Ivar keep your head down please, I need you to stay as still as possible.” You tell him and Hvitserk makes his way behind you. 

“We need the take this side off!” Hvitserk’s voice calls to the fire department. The noise of his voice floats behind you and he pulls another fire fighter to aid him in the collection of equipment he’s sending to you.

“What’s that?” Ivar asks you and you’re reaching behind you for the c-collar. 

“This keeps your neck straight, Ivar, it’s very important that you don’t move. How else are you feeling?”

“My legs feel funny,” Ivar mumbles to you as you lock the device around his neck. At his words you peek down for the first time and your stomach rolls. Churning like a great open sea as you see the mess that is before the two of you. There is no clear cut determining factor of where his legs start and the car ends. 

“Ivar can you feel my hand right here?” You ask him as you have it on his thigh.

“I like it when you touch me there baby,” Ivar slurs and it’s a twist of his words drooling from his mouth as he’s trying to stay awake. Even as his body shuts down. Even with the same bastard smirk. You back out slowly and Hvitserk replaces your spot as quickly as he’ll allow; tunneled vision as he asses Ivar’s closest vein and through a shake in his fingers, hooks him up to a line. “What are you doing brother?” He asks and his voice is smaller now, like a child and Hvitserk only sadly smiles.

“This is pain medicine Ivar, so we can get you out of the car. You’re going to get really tired and I don’t want you to fight it, alright? I’ll see you when you wake up.” Are the last words Ivar registers and his world becomes dark.

The hiss of the saw catches your attention as you watch the sparks sizzle on the heated asphalt. Linens down on the stretcher and reflective gear covering you but your body is so cold, chilled and down right hypothermic as the car groans lowly once it is peeled apart. Like bark from a tree as it curls into scrap metal and Hvitserk cranks two tourniquets on each of Ivar’s legs. 

“Helicopter?” You call to him and he shakes his head.

“It’ll be faster if you drive him down to the trauma center. They won’t fly—it’s too cloudy today,” He calls back and you can’t help but think of the ever going joke about how the pilots don’t fly, even with only one cloud in the whole sky. There’s yelling, screams, the buzz of machines and too much noise but Ivar is still asleep, and you find comfort in the fact that he’s not seeing what you are. Your reflective vest catches the sunlight and it bounces into your face, mixes with your tear filled eyes and you wipe them along your sleeve to smear mascara and sweat. As soon as the command comes from around you that it’s safe, the car is stable and you can reach your patient, you waste no time.

It takes you, Hvitserk and two of the largest firemen on the team to pull Ivar from the wreck. Hooking around his arms and you can still smell his cologne over the burnt rubber that takes up home in your nostrils. His legs are crushed, obliterated and shattered and you’re queasy for the first time ever on a call. They drag behind him like dead limbs as he’s sliding up the back board. Hvitserk tears what was left of his jeans in adrenaline as he tries to wrap what he can to stay sterile but the injuries are far too extreme for you two alone to treat. The mess of mangled flesh and your heart breaks even farther as you see the art work on his skin now a waste because you know how Ivar loves his tattoos. They’re smashed and bent and somehow still there and if it were any other call there would be pictures being taken and you would be exchanging glances with your partner. Treating the rest of what he can and Hvitserk pales, because you both know Ivar may never walk again. 

From above his belt, Ivar looks normal—he looks like the man you saw this morning—your Ivar. Obvious contusions from the seat belt and the airbag, torn shirt cut right up the middle as you attach the stickers to his chest. The Like Pak squeezes an already bulged bicep for his blood pressure and it’s dropping quickly. The non-rebreather mask’s reservoir fills with oxygen and you watch the plastic palpate, the fingers in his left hand twitch like they do when he’s asleep. It feels like a nightmare, loud noises and beating sun with clouds that pass and every time shade greats you, you find another injury on his body. The motions come so simply because your mind has gone, sucked out the window and on a vacation because you need to focus on what you’re doing, now more than ever.

Protruding tibia bones look back at you, knee caps that are now mere powder mock you. You see his bones, you see his muscles, you see every inner part of both of his legs stabbed with shrapnel and the glass, raw and cherry colored, and you think you’re going to pass out as you pull the gurney to the machine that grabs it, sucking into the back of the ambulance. Hvitserk jumps back there you slam the doors so quickly, trying to shut that world out to focus on this one. And then you pull the ambulance around and gun it, sandwiching the peddle between your blood covered boot and the ambulance’s floor. Even over the sirens, the blare of the horn you can hear your partner praying. Praying to a God he doesn’t believe in for his brother to live through this as the monitor sings a tune that Ivar is crashing.

“Come on brother—don’t do this to me,” He curses and pulls another vile, cranks the oxygen flow and sends more fluid into his body. “Don’t do this to me Ivar. Not today. Not today, Ivar,” And the tears finally start again in your eyes as you curse the vehicle for not going any faster. For its limit of one hundred and twenty miles per hour on the open lane of the freeway because cars have spread. They’ve parted as this creature screams for them to obey and you see the cop cars ahead of you, trying to pave the way and then the flight car. Your section chief right on your front bumper and you know he can tell its you driving the ambulance. You’re the fastest driver he’s ever employed and now is the time to remember that—and your job as you all carry Ivar’s body from this battle, into a much worse one.

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[andithiel]

I've been feeling a bit detatched from my writing lately, but I wanted to do something for Harry's birthday. So I managed to get out 2k of, I think maybe fluff? Many thanks to @booktopusmunro for the speedy beta and encouragement ❤️ Happy birthday Harry! Sidenote: Sega Mega Drive was called Sega Genesis in the US. This fic is loosely based on a scene from the Friends episode “The One Where Rachel Finds Out”.

Start Level

“Everybody! Hey, everybody, settle down! It’s time for Harry to open his presents!”

Ron’s sonoroused voice made Harry wince as he sat cross-legged in his favourite squishy armchair. A belly full of birthday cake and the comfort of  his friends surrounding him made Harry sleepy; but as he watched them all scramble to get seated as close to him as possible, a warmth rose in his chest. Ron had, of course, already sat down on the sofa closest to Harry before he made the announcement, but at Harry’s single raised eyebrow he shrugged with a crooked grin.

Harry snorted. He knew that with five older brothers, it was inevitable that Ron knew how to get to the front first. He looked around the room, trying not to tear up at the sight of all his friends gathered around, sitting on each other’s laps or perched on tables and armrests, all looking expectedly at him.

“Oh dear, what’s wrong with him?” Pansy stage-whispered to Hermione.

“Nothing,” said Harry, to let Hermione off the hook. “I’m just happy to get to spend my birthday with the people I love.”

Well, all except one, he thought. Draco hadn’t been able to get out of his work shift, and Harry refused to admit how disappointed he’d been when he’d found out about that, because it wasn’t reasonable for him to be. It wasn’t as if he expected Draco to be around all the time now just because they were sort of friends, or at least hung out in the same friend circles. But still, it wasn’t every day you turned 25 and wanted to celebrate with the people you cared most about.

Harry accepted the gift that Ron handed to him with a smile and a “Happy birthday, mate.” He tore the wrappings off to reveal a set of Wizards Chess. At Harry’s puzzled expression Ron explained. “Well, since you lost your old set I thought I’d give you a new one so we can play again!”

“Right,” Harry said with a tight smile, not mentioning that he knew damn well where his old set was (buried deep in a box in his attic because he was sick of losing to Ron all the time). “Thanks,” he managed to grind out, hoping it sounded sincere.

The rest under the cut or on ao3

“Maybe this one will be more useful,” said Blaise, as he handed Harry a thick, heavy parcel.

“Thanks Blaise!” Harry turned the package in his hands. “Hmmm, it feels like a book. Pretty sure it’s a book.” He unwrapped it. “And it’s a book! It’s— oh.”

“What, Harry?” Luna straightened up a bit to try and get a look.

“Um, nothing,” said Harry, trying to hide the Kama Sutra for Beginners behind his back. “Nothing, it’s, uh, I’ll have a closer look at this later.”

Blaise smirked and Harry whipped his head around to the stack of gifts next to him, wanting to occupy his mind with something other than the writhing bodies on the cover of the book currently taking up all the space in his head. “Who’s this from?” He picked up a big box wrapped in black paper with little golden snitches on it and a big golden bow on top.

“Oh that’s Draco’s,” said Pansy. “I promised I’d give it to you since he couldn’t make it today.”

“Right, right. Thanks Pansy,” Harry mumbled as he carefully peeled the tape from the paper, both so he wouldn’t tear it and so he could busy himself with the task instead of thinking about how Draco was holed up in St Mungo’s on Harry’s birthday.

He finally managed to get all the tape off and unwrapped the gift slowly. The sight of the box made him let out a gush of air, unable to believe that this was really real. Had Draco actually bought him—?

“What is it, Harry?” asked Hermione, trying to lean in closer to see what was in the box.

“I can’t—” Harry began, before swallowing and starting over. “I can’t believe he remembered.”

“What? What is it?” came a collective query from the group, everyone edging closer now.

Carefully, Harry opened the box to see if the content really matched the exterior, and when he’d made sure it really did, he had to pause again to blink repeatedly against the sting in his eyes. Then he picked up the black plastic box, twisting it in his hands. The room was silent, probably because few of them knew what this was.

“It’s a Muggle video game,” Harry tried to explain. “It’s… It must’ve been weeks ago, months maybe. We passed a Muggle second-hand store and I saw this and I… I made some throwaway comment about how Dudley used to have one of these but I was never allowed to play.” He stroked his thumb over the white letters forming the words “Mega Drive SEGA”, while memories of how he’d desperately wanted to play resurfaced in his mind. This console, like so many others before and after it, had not lasted long in the Dursley household. Before Harry had had any chance at trying it out, Dudley had stomped on it after the umpteenth attempt of getting past Dr. Eggman in the Oil Ocean Zone.

“Oh,” said Hermione softly in his ear, making him realise how close she was. “I remember these! Never had one myself but I sometimes played on my friend’s.”

Harry couldn’t stop staring. It wasn’t an extravagant gift, money-wise, but the thoughtfulness and the effort it must have taken Draco to find this for him was astounding. The game was almost mint condition. Draco must’ve gone back to the store to get a better look, and then found it in another store, because the one they’d seen had been old and battered. The gift made something stir in Harry, something he hadn’t allowed himself to think about before, and he wasn’t sure he was ready for even now.

“Oh, come on, remember when Draco went to Healer school and he fell in love with Keith Hendricks and bought him that ridiculously expensive non-spatter cauldron?” Ron chortled on Harry’s other side.

The room fell quiet and it took a few seconds for Ron’s words to process in Harry’s brain. He snapped his eyes up, looking sharply at Ron, whose ears had gone bright red.

“What did you just say?”

Ron’s eyes went wide and he gave Pansy, who was staring at him with a thunderous expression, a panicked look. “Uh…” said Ron, then cleared his throat several times while shrinking into the sofa. “Er… huh… ummm, non-spatter cauldron?”

“No. No, no,” said Harry, trying to wrap his head around Ron’s words. “The um, the ‘love’ part?”

Ron was now spluttering, frantically looking around the room for any sort of help from someone, and that was enough for the truth to register in Harry’s brain.

“Oh. My. God,” was all he managed to get out.

“Oh, noooo nononononono,” Ron chanted, rubbing his temples. “Noooo, I’m such a lousy friend!”

“I cannot believe this is the first time I hear about this!” Pansy snapped. “And to think that Draco confided in you, of all people!”

Ron straightened up and threw her a sharp look. “Hey! The ferret and I have a very trusting and mature friendship!”

“Yes, clearly he did the right thing trusting you with this information!” Pansy said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well it’s not like I’ve told anyone else! I’ve even kept it from my own wife!”

“Oh, bravo, Weasel, ten points to Gryffindor.” Pansy inclined her head in Ron’s direction and clapped her hands in mock applause. “And then you chose this moment to spill the beans, very clever. I’ll have you know that I’ve kept it a secret that he had a crush on Potter back at Hogw—” she said, but interrupted herself. “Er, nevermind.”

Harry felt like he was watching a ping pong match, his mind reeling at all this information. Draco’d had a crush on him at Hogwarts? And now he was in love with him?

“Aha!” Ron shouted triumphantly. “Who’s the bad friend now?”

“Can the two of you shut the fuck up?!” Harry said, surprised at his own words and the force behind them. “I need to think.”

“Yes! Yes, give the poor man some space to think!” Ron hastily said, his expression amix of relieved and frantic.

But before Harry had time to properly panic, the door opened.

“Well, I had to bribe Healer Merriweather by taking all her night shifts for a month, but at least I managed to get here,” said Draco as he stepped inside, impeccably dressed as ever. “Please tell me I haven’t missed the cake.” He paused in front of the doorway, looking around the room, all eyes turned on him. “What? What happened? Is there something on my shirt?” He started patting himself all over, looking for a non-existing stain.

Harry could only stare at him, at the way his hair fell into his eyes and how he had to constantly flick his head to keep it away. The flush on his cheeks from apparently having rushed from the hospital, just to be able to celebrate Harry’s birthday because he knew how important it was to him. Or maybe because he’d seen how disappointed Harry’d been when Draco’d told him he wouldn’t be able to make it and now he‘d wanted to make it up to him. The care with which he had selected a present for Harry just to make him happy. There was a swooping sensation in Harry’s stomach, and suddenly his mouth started speaking before he could stop himself.

“You’re in love with me?”

Draco froze, his eyes widening comically before flitting around the room to finally land on Ron, who seemed to try to make himself a permanent part of Harry’s sofa. After a split second, Draco leaned back into the hallway, not meeting Harry’s eyes once. “Wait, what’s that? Oh, no! I see Head Healer Patel’s patronus, oh this can’t be good, I really must be off.”

He turned around and bolted for the door, but with the reflexes of a seeker, Harry apparated into the hallway, right in front of the stairs.

“You’re in love with me,” he repeated, more like a statement now, or maybe a confirmation to himself.

Draco folded his arms across his chest, lifting his chin. “I have no idea what gave you that impression, Potter, but—”

“Ron told me. Or, well, to be fair he accidentally let it slip.”

“Weasel,” Draco hissed. “I should’ve known it was unwise to get drunk with him. That red-headed buffoon act is a great cover to trick people into trusting him with—”

He didn’t get any further, because right then, Harry decided that he needed to do what he did best: use his gut. And his gut told him that he was pants with words, especially compared to Draco. And he wanted to make Draco stop talking, so he did the first thing that came to mind. He stepped closer and pressed his lips to Draco’s. It was probably the most chaste kiss he’d ever experienced, and yet it gave his stomach that funny swooping feeling again. Draco made a funny sound, like a mix of a squeak and a sharp inhale, and Harry realised that maybe this wasn’t what Draco wanted and started to pull back. But then he was thoroughly proven wrong when Draco grabbed him by the collar and pushed him backwards until they hit the opposite wall. Harry gasped when his head thumped against it, and then again when Draco opened his mouth and really kissed him, hands still fisted in Harry’s shirt.

It was the kind of kiss that, had they not been in Harry’s hallway, it would’ve led to other things. Harry’s body responded immediately, and he desperately wanted more. But their frantic snogging came to an abrupt halt when they suddenly realised they weren’t alone anymore.

“Oh,” someone said softly, and Harry didn’t need to look to know it was Luna.

Then someone (who sounded a lot like Pansy) shouted “What?” and there was the unmistakable sound of all their friends rushing to get to Harry’s front door first, then someone else (definitely Ron) yelled, “I don't need to see that!”

Harry kept his gaze firmly on Draco, cheeks gone pink and lips wonderfully kiss-swollen.

“Let’s go to your place, yeah?”

Draco nodded, eyes bright, his bottom lip disappearing between his teeth. Harry couldn’t wait to suck it into his mouth again.

“Right, hang on for one second,” Harry said, fishing out his wand from his pocket. “Accio Draco’s present!” With a spark of satisfaction he heard Blaise mutter “Ow!” when the box undoubtedly smacked into his head as it zoomed towards Harry’s outstretched hand.

But just as he was about to catch it, Draco cast a Depulso, making the game fly towards Luna, who caught it with an expression of curiosity as she twisted it in her hands.

“I’m very happy that you like your present so much, but trust me, Harry,” Draco murmured into his ear, “there won’t be time for any video games when I get you alone.”

[missymurphy1985]

Chance Encounter (sequel to The Premiere)

What happens when y/n and Cillian bump into each other again off set? Will their little agreement still stand?

Warning : Smut

Taglist - @queenshelby @peakyscillian @margoo0 @being-worthy @noctvrnalmoth @janelongxox

Your hair was done, your makeup flawless (if you did say so yourself) and you were finally ready. Your former costar Natasha was getting married and she'd invited you to the reception. You'd booked your hotel room and silently prayed to the god of all that is holy that Cillian was invited too. You knew your agreement half a year ago was that if you "worked together" again, you'd hook up, but surely agreements could have the odd caveat here and there, right? You just hoped he was still single... There had been plenty of buzz about him and a girl from back home reconnecting a few months ago but you'd never plucked up the courage to ask him outright. Last thing you wanted was to look desperate but truth be told? You were. A little. Okay, a lot, but you hid it well - no one had any inkling anything had happened that night at the casino, and that's just how you liked it. The rumour mill had piped down, even after THAT interview. But deep down you wanted more of the man that had truly captivated you. It annoyed you that he wasn't on any social media - there was no way of keeping in touch other than via text/call but neither of you had made contact with the other after that night.

You smoothed down your dress and grabbed your handbag. One quick check on your hair, and you made your way to the lift. Pressing the 'down' button, you felt two strong hands suddenly clinch your waist, making you (and your heart) jump.

"Too easy, y/n..." You spun on your heels and came face to face with Cillian, praying your foundation covered your burning cheeks. Game face on, you slapped his arm playfully. The tickle and slap had been your 'thing' all the way through Peaky Blinders.

"Mr Murphy, how the devil are you?" He embraced you warmly, greeting you the same way on old friend would - had he moved on?

"I'm excited to be here with everyone again, can't wait to see Tash's dress!" You smiled breaking away from him, hoping he couldn't feel your heart practically exploding through your dress.

"She'll look beautiful I'm sure." You held eye contact for a little longer than you should have, before the lift door pinged. Inside were Finn and Joe Cole, obviously having caught the lift from a higher floor. It suddenly dawned on you that your room was on the same floor as Cillian's... Stop it y/n...

"Hey!!! Peaky Reunion in full swing now!" Your onscreen brother and cousin pulled you both in for hugs as Cillian pressed the button for the ground floor.

Entering the large foyer, the beauty of the hotel where the reception was being held was breathtaking. The wedding flowers, lilies and roses, lined the corridors, leading the way to the large reception hall at the bottom of the corridor. Entering the room, you found the other cast members on a table together in the corner, and saw 4 empty seats around the table. Approaching the table plan in the corner, you groaned inwardly to see Natasha had placed you and Cillian right next to each other.

"Should be a fun evening, y/n.. what you drinking?" Cillian nudged you with a wink. Why was he so damn hard to read??

"Gin and lemonade please," you smirked, and he made his way to the bar with Joe. Finn joined you at the table, smirking at you.

"That flame still burning there y/n?" He nudged you as you took your seats. Finn one side of you, Cillian the other.

Conversation flowed around the table easily, the group of you catching up on the last six months. Most of you having taken a break from any kind of work for a while out of choice.

"I hear your love life is improving there Cillian!" Joe laughed, playfully punching the top of Cillian's arm. He didn't respond, just smiled shyly and rolled his eyes. Your heart dropped, he HAD moved on then..

He caught your eye and went to speak to you, before the music kicked in and the DJ announced the arrival of Natasha and her husband into the room. You all stood, cheering and clapping as the beautiful bride and her dashing husband entered, grinning like Cheshire Cats. The conversation with Cillian would have to wait...

The end of the night drew close and you were stood at the bar with a tipsy Natasha talking about her father's embarrassing yet beautiful speech, when the music suddenly turned down a notch. You were so happy for her, she looked absolutely radiant.. but the feelings in your heart were almost painful. You'd avoided Cillian all night, much to his dismay. He'd tried talking to you but you were determined to keep your distance. He was clearly taken, and you wouldn't dream of getting in the way of that. You couldn't help but notice him watching you from a distance throughout the night though, and you regularly scanned the room to check he was still around somewhere. Occasionally your eyes met, and you looked away quickly every time.

Natasha's wedding song played again through the speakers for the second time, the DJ inviting all the couples in the room up to the dance floor. Natasha kissed you cheek and hugged you, before heading off to find her new husband.

You felt those familiar hands on your waist, but they didn't tickle like normal, they gently turned you round in a 180 degree turn.

"Stop avoiding me." Those blue eyes pierced into yours.

"Very sure of yourself there, aren't you?"

"Every time I've got within 2 feet of you, you've moved away. I've tried to talk to you and you suddenly need the toilet.. or a cigarette.. or just plain walked away. Forgive me for thinking you were keeping a deliberate distance from me y/n." He looked serious, a side you rarely saw in him. He almost looked hurt.

"Listen, Cill.. you're clearly with someone okay? And I'm.. I'm just.. it's okay.. It really is. I -" His lips suddenly fell onto yours, silencing you, taking you completely by surprise. Now that, you weren't prepared for. You suddenly no longer cared about anyone else in the room, you lost yourself in his embrace, your kiss quickly becoming heated as your tongues met.

"What are you doing..." You breathed, pulling away.

"I'm not seeing anyone y/n, I never was. That girl is my publicist - yes we dated but we were 16.. she's married now, to my best friend ironically.. I'm single."

"Well you've just kissed me in a room full of people.."

"I know.. and I'll deal with that later, but right now I really don't care. I've been wanting to do that ever since that night."

"Why didn't you call me?" His hands were caressing your arms lightly as he chuckled to himself.

"I chickened out." You stifled a laugh.

"Me too... I didn't want to be the first to text!"

"Thank god Tash got married eh? How long you reckon we'd have gone on without talking for?"

"Oh come on, did you think you two sitting together at the table was a coincidence?" Joe appeared suddenly behind you at the bar. You both turned to look at him. "You two have been like lovestruck teenagers since Peaky finished - frankly we were sick of hearing about it!" You were stunned.. nobody knew? Did they?

"We all bloody knew." Joe was a mind-reader now, apparently. Cillian's hand found yours, and led you to the dance floor. You followed, positively glowing now, as he pulled you close to him, gently swaying with you to the music.

"Which room are you staying in?" He whispered in your ear, a hand running up your spine.

"Yours..." Your hands ran up the length of his arms, over his shoulders. The navy blue suit bringing out the blue in his eyes perfectly as he pulled you close for another kiss.

"What do you say we head there now.." that voice would be the death of you, as it whispered in your ear again. You could feel his arousal through his trousers as you nodded, kissing him again. He took off his suit jacket and held it over his crotch as you both made your way quickly to the lift, luckily no one stopping you.

Your bodies met in the elevator again, your body being pushed against the wall as he lifted you up to wrap your legs round his waist. His core grinding into yours. Your fingers tugging his hair as he kissed a trail down your neck.

"Need to stop or I swear I'm gonna fuck you in this lift y/n.." you shuddered at the deepness of his voice, when the door to the elevator opened and he carried you to his hotel room. Opening the door, your legs still wrapped around him, he carried you to the large dresser by the window and sat you on it, hitching your dress up and over your waist, pulling your underwear down your long, slender legs.

"I never got to taste you last time..." You groaned from the pulsing feeling in your core as he parted your legs and kissed a trail up your thighs. Meeting your core, his tongue traced over your clit painfully slowly as your back arched.

"Oh god... Yes.." working a slow rhythm at first, he added more pressure as you started to rock against his mouth, needing more and needing it now. "Feels so good..."

"You taste perfect y/n..." His assault continued with fervour, he soon had your back arched as you came against his tongue. Coming down from your high he got back to his feet as you breathed heavily into another kiss, tasting yourself on his lips.

"I want you.. now Cillian..." The primal desire in his eyes was almost too much as you unbuckled his belt and trousers, letting them fall to the floor. Cupping his erection through his Calvin Kleins you felt him shudder slightly and gasp, standing you up to lift your dress over your head and unclasp your bra. His shirt was quickly removed as you pushed him backwards to fall onto the bed. Hooking your fingers in the waist band of his boxers shorts, you pulled them down allowing his hard cock to spring free. Giving it a gentle lick from the base to the tip, you sank your mouth down over it causing him to grip your hair and moan primally, never taking his eyes off you.

"Fuck.. your mouth feels good... Mm..." Your mouth was dancing over his shaft, a hand cupping his balls as you played with them.

Feeling his balls start to tighten, you lifted your mouth off him, bringing your body up the bed to meet his. His blue eyes were now almost black - you needed him inside you.. reading your mind he flipped you onto your front, opening your legs and lining himself up.

"Still on that coil thing?" He looked at you. You nodded, and he pushed into you slowly. You gasped at the invasion, he filled you up even better than he did before. Watching his eyes scrunch shut as he bottomed out, you smiled. He was perfect in every way, shape and form.. and after tonight's very public display, was he yours?

"I've wanted this for months... In fact I've wanted YOU for years..." You panted, lifting your hips to meet his gentle thrusts.

"You have me.. all of me.. you always have.." he thrusted between each sentence, sending shockwaves through you. He wasn't fucking you, he was making love to you.

He lifted you up, your legs wrapped round his waist as you moved together. Your lips met his as he ran his fingers smoothly down your spine, your arms wrapped over his shoulders as his thrusts met your hips perfectly. Your nails ran along his sculpted back, as he planted soft kisses over your collarbone. You had never felt anything like it - your bodies slotted together like jigsaw pieces, but you needed more. Turning your bodies, you pushed him onto his back and sank back onto his cock.

Rocking back and forth, building a steady rhythm you felt his hands roaming over your breasts causing you to ride a little harder.

"You're perfect, y/n, you know that? Absolutely perfect..." His eyes and hands were all over you. Pulling your waist up and down, he took over, lifting you slightly so he could thrust upwards, hitting that sweet spot inside easily. You brought a hand down to rub your clit as he began to pound harder into you from below, your orgasm drawing closer and closer.

"I'm gonna... Oh god Cillian I'm gonna cum..."

"Let me feel you... Let it happen baby I've got you..." You exploded over him, the most powerful orgasm you'd ever had. You felt your juices coat him, as your hand stopped rubbing his quickly took over, making you scream as he continued the pressure on your clit and your insides. You froze as you suddenly felt yourself lose complete control of your body, gushing over his chest as he made your pussy squirt hard over his chest and stomach.

He watched you, mesmerised as you cried his name, chest heaving from the force of your orgasm. Breathing heavily, trying to control himself and not end this too soon, he paused his thrusts as you came down from your high.

"Fuck... Jesus.. that's never happened before I'm sorry!" You gasped, coming back down to earth.

"Don't ever be sorry for that - I'm doing that to you every single time from now on.. fuck that felt incredible..." He growled and turned you over to lie on your back. He re-entered you, slipping in easily, and moved inside you again. You reached behind you to grab the bedframe.

"Give me everything... Everything you have..." He was like a wild animal, his hips pounding into you again. He was panting in your ear, sending you into heaven and back as you wrapped your legs round his waist, pulling him deep.

"Good girl... That's it... I'm gonna -" he lost the ability to speak as he came hard, deep inside you, his body collapsing on top of yours. You ran your nails over his shoulders, feeling his breathing calm.

You lay tangled together for a while, just enjoying the feel of each others skin, listening to each other breathe, placing soft, gentle kisses on each other. He pulled out slowly, and lay next to you.

The silence wasn't awkward, but you had to break it.. you had to know..

"Cill?"

"Hmm.." his eyes were closed, but he lifted an arm for you to move into. You didn't, you stayed where you were. He opened his eyes and looked at you. "What's wrong?"

"What is this? What are we doing? I mean, I'm not expecting anything.. I just.. listen.. don't be mad.. but I've thought about that night every single day and I don't think I can carry on doing this if you don't actually want me, okay?"

"I kissed you in a room FULL of people y/n, what does that tell you?"

"I don't -"

"I want you, okay? Not just as a fuck, but all of you. You and me - what do you say?" Your eyes gazed into his. Everything you'd ever wanted was waiting in them. You settled into his arms and allowed yourself to drift off in his arms. The safest, and most comfortable you'd ever felt.

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

More cameras flashing, more screams.. another premiere. This time for your latest movie - you'd been cast as the lead role in Danny Boyle's latest blockbuster and you were leading the rest of the cast on the red carpet. Your dress showing off your curves perfectly.

You stood in line with your castmates smiling, when a pair of ocean blue eyes caught your attention off to the left. You couldn't help but grin when he winked at you, you could feel how proud he was of you. You heard the event manager call for individual photos, and you stayed on the red carpet smiling for the cameras.

"Can we get one of you and Cillian, y/n?" One of the photographers asked, and the others all shouted in agreement. You shook your head, knowing how much he hated these events, and PDAs even more, but you were cut off by the man himself approaching you smiling.

"Why not, eh?" We wrapped his arms round your waist and stood happily having his photo taken. He was just too proud not to, he wanted the world to know.. taking your hand in his, he led it to your belly, suddenly the fans in the background went wild screaming, the photographers suddenly noticing the roundness of your stomach and catching onto the exclusive news.

You felt a warmth running through you - it truly didn't get better than this, as you gazed into your fiance's eyes and stole a kiss.