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ladylooch · 10 months

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Could you write a blurb where Em & T have not been having sex for a few weeks because of several incidents? Maybe Lee gets sick, then T has a long roadie with the team and when they finally have an opportunity together, they are so lacking in each other!

Smidge of 18+ content below!

As I’m walking up the stairs, little baby giggles flow down from the bathroom in the middle of the hall. A yawn stretches my mouth apart as I peek my head in at my boys. Lio is in the bath, splashing at clouds of bubbles with his floating turtle.

“Bleee!” He squeals to his dad, showing him the turtle.

“Turtle.” Timo says to him. Lio moves his mouth, trying to repeat the word, eyebrows low in concentration. Timo works the washcloth over Lio’s neck and shoulders. “Tuuuuurtle.” He extends the word, seeing if Lio can repeat it.

“Oooo!” Lio responds.

“Not even close.” Timo shrugs with a laugh. He takes a handful of water, gently running it along Lio’s body to wash the suds off. I yawn again, catching Timo’s attention. “You done working?” He asks looking back as Lio sways in the tub. He is very tired and having a hard time sitting up.

“For the night.” I confirm. I bite my lip as Timo nods back to me.

Things feel weird between us. Nothing has happened. It’s life and sickness that seems to be getting in the way. We’re just off. Not us. And I hate the distance I can feel between us when he’s right here with me. I’m used to missing him when he is across the country, but not like this.

“Do you need help?” I ask, picking at my thumb nail.

“No, I can do bedtime tonight.” He responds. “I’ll bring him to you for kisses soon.” He doesn’t look at me again. Instead, he blows his lips into a motor at Lio who has traded the turtle for an airplane.

“Okay.” I whisper, pushing off from the door to walk to our bedroom.

While Timo finishes with Lio’s bath, I get myself ready for bed. I wash my face, put on my night creams, and change into comfortable pajamas. Before I came upstairs, I contemplated a sexy night gown for him to find me in. But with his disinterest, it now seems like too much effort.

I’m sitting in bed, rubbing lavender lotion into my arms when Timo comes in with Lio. Our son’s forehead is pressed against his throat. He’s wearing dark blue footie pajamas with dinosaur’s tonight. His brown hair is slicked back, curly Cs sticking to his neck. I smile, opening my arms for him. Timo flies him into my arms, sitting next to me on the bed.

“I love you.” I tell Lio, kissing both of his cheeks then his forehead and finishing with his nose and lips. He is so tired. His blue eyes close, long, dark lashes, fluttering against his cheek bones. “Goodnight, sweet boy.” I say with a final forehead kiss.

“Bubba…” Timo murmurs as he takes Lio back. “Do you know you have the world’s most beautiful mama?” I blush hard, rolling my eyes to play off his compliment. “Can I have a kiss too, mama?”

“You think you’re as cute as Lee?”

“Yeah.” He leans forward. I reach for his cheek, pulling his face to mine. Our lips press together in a light smooch. “I’ll be right back.” He eventually mumbles against my mouth.

Timo returns shortly, walking into our room while munching on a sandwich.

“So, uh, what’s up with the pajamas?” He motions and takes another bite. I look up from my phone at him. “It’s been like 3 weeks since you’ve touched me.” He elaborates. “Why don’t you like me anymore?” I scoff then laugh.

“You haven’t touched me either.” I defend.

“You were sick.” He shrugs. “Then Lio was sick. Then I was sick. Then I went out of town.” He takes another bite then continues. “I tried to start something in the kitchen yesterday and you were not feeling it.” He isn’t wrong. I was touched out from Lio.

“Fair…. Well, you can touch me tonight.”

“Where?” He asks, licking across his teeth as he finishes his sandwich. Our gazes hold as he awaits my answer.

“Every where.”

“Chicken.” He calls as he pads over to the bed. He puts his large palms on the comforter. “Say it.” He challenges me. I look away giggling then pounce at him. He laughs, curling me into his chest to make out with me. Our hands are everywhere. Lips moving away from each other to explore other areas of our upper bodies. Our fingers work our clothes off. Timo bites at my neck teasingly as I put my hands around his thick shaft. His pleasureful groan is instant.

He won’t be lasting long.

Then his fingers slide against my clit and I know, neither will I.

#TM: Loving & Leaving #Timo Meier Blurb #hockey writing #my writing #nhl fan fiction #new jersey devils

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foximator-blog · 5 months

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do you find it odd that zap and thumpback are the only water skylanders who actually swim

slam bam and chill surf on ice

gill grunt flies over it with his jetpack

and wham shell just propels himself with the mace

Actually before you get the Jetpack upgrade, Gill Grunt also swims. It's weird but it makes sense.

Slam bam is usually scared of water and Chill is wearing heavy armor so it makes Sense they'd form Ice to float on.

And most crabs usually walk along the bottom of bodies of water, and the animation is silly for Wham-shell.

Personally if crossing bodies of water was still a thing in future games, these are my head canons for how the other water skylanders would traverse, without including OCs.

Swimmers: Punk shock, Wash buckler (anyone using his legs besides him has a bubble form over the top half to protect them), Echo, Snapshot, Lob-star, Gulper, Dive-Clops, Kingpen, Water Imaginators (with different swimming animations based on Battle class)

Ice: Freeze blade (but instead he's just freezing the water as he skates over it), Chill Bill

Other: Riptide (Summons a big fish to ride on), Flip wreck (has his weird flight ability with his shield), Slobber trap (makes a slobber bubble to float in), Brawl n Chain (summons swim floaties to help him float about), Threat pack (already flying), Cross Crow (Summons crows to carry him), Tide pool (Summons her mini whale to ride on), Grave Clobber (Just floats like a corpse).

Honorable mention to Nightfall, Splat, and Big Bubble Popfizz, who aren't water types but still use sea vehicles. Splat creates a bridge of oil paint beneath her (oil floats on water after all), Popfizz creates a bubble, and Nightfall just swims, cause she's a badass who dives deep down to fight sea monsters.

#skylanders #skylanders discussion #anon ask

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twistedisciple · 11 months

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— twenty five. a birthday memory

Memories | not accepting

𝟸 The day hadn’t been anything remarkable. Overcast, but dry, neither hot nor cold. Stagnant, if anything, and the scratching of little coarse fibers against yet-unscarred-skin had made the hessian smock he’d been made to wear more memorable than the looks the adults had exchanged as coin passed hands. There had been no build-up, no preparation, not even a sob choked to death in the middle of the dying marketplace as bony fingers clasped his wrist and led him away. He’d pulled back, wanting to go home and home was the other way, but the hand cinched like a lariat around a calf. He might have cried then, because he was hungry, because his filthy, shoeless feet ached and he didn’t want to walk anymore, maybe even because no one else was, but the monk had had a familiar way of quieting him, and a new warm spot on his cheek had kept him silent for the rest of the way.

By midday, he had been loaded onto a wagon like a drop in a sea of hungry, shoeless children. The flies buzzed where the wind wouldn’t sing and smothered the little whimpers and their humanity. By sunset, they filed through the doors of a modest monastery in a line made straight, not by discipline, but by unease, and taken one-by-one to a room with a grate in the floor, buckets doused over their heads until the water ran clear. Then they were clothed in fresh linens, given shoes and belts and blankets and a hot bowl of broth, and once warmed and fed, led into the shadows of a hall lined with flickering torches.

“The old will be washed away,” spoke the monk from the dais at the center, and one-by-one, escorted each child up the steps to the stone bowl on its pedestal. Their pasts, short and insignificant, dribbled down their hands and hardly splattered against the shallow pool.

“So that our lord may grace you with a new calling, a new life. He knows your suffering. Soon you will come to know his."

Returned to his place in the ring, Griss stared at the blood bubbling from the life line across his palm, fascinated by the little bead that trembled and grew at the very edge of his hand. Ignoring the one that had rolled down his chin.

“From this moment on, you will be servants of Lord Sombron.”

Only in recollection did he ever think about what he had meant to the people he’d call parents, and what transient thing they had bought to replace him. A shank of meat, if they’d found a generous butcher. Maybe a sack of flour. Little else. Eventually, that part of the memory stopped being important. So did their faces. But the absence of something still had a way of hurting.

#headcanons #drabbles #// actual birthday? sike! figurative birthday #// roughly age 4 or 5 #// I do think that as far as griss is concerned this is the moment when he was really born tbh #// minor hc is that griss is the name he took after his oblation

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rebeccccccaaa · 3 years

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ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ _____________________

ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ’s!ʙᴇsᴛ!ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ!ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs ᴀᴜ

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You and Buck have always been close growing up but you two soon learn that the line that separates friendly and flirting is a lot thinner than you think.

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: fluff, slight angst bc u got a shit bf, big bro vibes from bucky, smut duh [18+ minors dni (slight praise but also slight degradation, marking, belly bulge, squirting, fem!rec oral, unprotected sex, plz be safe irl, slight choking, pet names: darling&princess, i think that’s it lmk plz)]

ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hey assholes i'm back for the time being lol. I have a few ideas and fics I'm currently writing right now so do not fret.

______________________________________

You knew this was a horrible idea.

It’s Saturday night and you and your boyfriend were back in another night club after being kicked out from one just hours before. Daniel had gotten too drunk, as he always does, causing you to kindly ask the bartender to cut him off. Daniel didn’t take that too lightly resulting in a gnarly swing at the poor guy just doing his job.

Security threw you out and Daniel called an Uber to go where you thought was going to be your apartment but twenty minutes later you pulled up to another club practically on the other side of town. You yelled at Daniel but he pushed aside stumbling inside for yet even more drinks and mistakes waiting for him inside.

You sat at the bar simply drinking some water and snacking on some peanuts keeping your eye on your garbage boyfriend. You're constantly checking the time on your phone, annoyed with every passing minute. It was 2 am and you just wanted to go home and sleep. You were even debating texting your brother Steve hoping you could just crash at his place not too far from where you were but it would be incredibly irresponsible to just leave Daniel in the state he’s in.

So you waited and waited and waited. Your eyelids felt heavy and your energy was just completely drained. You were basically a zombie. It wasn’t until a guy approached your half asleep body that you felt a sense of alert. Daniel was shit-faced so you were practically defenseless.

“Hey,” the guy shouted over the music.

“Sorry, I’m not interested. My boyfriend’s-” you quickly said, only to be cut off.

“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hit on you. I’ve got a boyfriend of my own,” he chuckled, making you breathe out in relief.

“Sorry,” you cringed at yourself.

“It’s alright; but uh, I hate to be the one to tell you this. You might want to check with your boyfriend,” he said sympathetically.

You pushed your way through the crowd scanning every face in search of Daniel. What did he do? Is he hurt? Did he get in trouble again? Is he getting arrested? Where is he-

“Daniel?” you said eyes tearing up a bit.

His arms were wrapped around another girl’s waist as he kissed her the way he kissed you. She practically moaned as their tongues slobbered disgustingly with each other. Their hips grinding against each other proactively as if you weren’t even there. Sadness turned to anger, and anger turned to rage, gripping Daniel’s short hairs and pulling his head away from whoever this girl was.

“What the fuck?” the girl complained, her eyes completely bloodshot.

“Did he tell you that he was here with his girlfriend tonight?” you're sad with gritted teeth. Daniel stumbled around still unable to register what the hell was happening.

“Oh my god, you forreal?” she said.

“Who fucking cares? She’s a prude anyway. I got more action with you than I did her in the past, what, six months?” Daniel slurred.

“You know what, you’re a fucking prick, dude. She deserves so much better than you; I bet your dick is small anyway,” the girl said.

“Fuck you too bitch,” Daniel spit.

“I can’t believe you,” you said.

“Oh, whoop-dee-doo, big fucking surprise. Babe, you’re a prude. Can’t you see it? I don’t know why I’m wasting my time with you anymore,” he practically puked out the words without any second thought.

“Fine, then I hope you enjoy the rest of your night, you fucking asshole,” you stormed away holding in the tears; he wasn’t worth it.

Almost three am and you just dumped your cheating lowlife boyfriend on the other side of town. Steve wasn’t answering his phone and you even wanna be near the club anymore. Walking speedily staring at your screen desperate to call an Uber home, you bumped harshly into a hard chest falling to the ground on your bum.

“Fucking hell, I’m so sorry, darling,” the man said helping you up by your elbows.

“It’s ok. I wasn’t looking- Bucky?”

“Oh, hey kid. What are you doing? It’s like three in the morning and you don’t live anywhere near here,” Bucky said, crossing his arms.

“Daniel got himself kicked from the one by our apartment and Ubered here instead.”

“So where’s Daniel?” Bucky scowled; he’s always hated that guy, so did Steve.

“Probably fucking some other chick in the bathroom,” your voice cracked.

“What?”

“It’s nothing; I just want to go home,” you cried.

“Hey, it’s ok; it’s ok. Do you wanna crash at me and Steve’s? He’s gone for the weekend with Peggy; you can stay in his room at least for the night,” Bucky offered; so that’s why Steve’s not answering his phone.

“I don’t wanna intrude on your night. I can just call an Uber, it’s fine.”

“No, it’s not. Steve’ll kill me if he found out I left his baby sis alone in the streets of New York at three in the morning. It’s not a problem, we were just bar hopping and I stopped drinking ages ago.”

“Are you sure, Buck?”

“Of course,” he smiled warmly at you.

“Hey, Nat!”

“What’s up?” a beautiful redhead approached you both.

“Gonna head home ; don’t do anything stupid,” he chuckled.

“You too,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “Catch you Monday?”

“You’re stupid. I’ll see ya,” Bucky laughed before grabbing your hand and headed towards his apartment.

“Thanks again, Buck. For letting me stay here tonight,” you said once you entered his apartment.

It had been a while since you hung out at your brother’s apartment but nothing’s changed. Typical men and their inability to change even a throw pillow. You set your small bag on the couch before Bucky led you to Steve’s room. There were pictures of you and him posing at Steve’s graduation; and later your own. Pictures of Steve and Bucky at a theme park, during a bar-be-que for Steve’s birthday. So many memories that Steve held onto in his room.

“Time really flies doesn’t it?” Bucky said, slightly startling you.

“Sorry,” he chuckled.

“No, you’re fine. But you’re right. Feels all these pictures were taken yesterday,” you reminisced.

“I got you some clothes if you need to change; I’ll give you privacy,” Bucky said, slipping from the room briskly.

You sat on the bed frustrated with everything. Your body was so drained from being up so early in the night, to the fight with Daniel. The past couple months with him were so awful. He was just so mean to you all the time and you didn’t know what you did wrong. Where did it go wrong? When did things shift?

"Is everything ok, darling?" Bucky asked quietly, knocking on the door when you hadn't come out after a while.

"What did I do wrong? I thought he loved me," you choked out.

Bucky sighed as he walked over to the bed sitting beside you before engulfing you in a warm hug. You cried into his shoulder and Bucky couldn't help the anger that bubbled inside him for your excuse of a boyfriend Daniel. He never got along with the guy and now he finally has a reason to knock his teeth in.

"You didn't do anything, I know it. That prick wouldn't know love if it hit him in the face. It's his loss. You deserve so much better than that asshole. Look at me, you're so beautiful and funny and fucking adorable; any guy who can't see how perfect you are, is a dense piece of shit."

"James," you whispered.

His words made your heart skip and your stomach flutter. But Bucky’s always had that effect on you. Even growing up. You weren’t going to sit there and pretend that hearing his words hadn't had a deeper effect than they would’ve coming from Daniel. Sometimes you wondered what being with Bucky would be like. You’re not the first to admit how handsome Bucky was and growing up you did have quite the crush on your brother’s best friend.

You don't know what it was, whether it was the alcohol still swimming through your veins, or just feeling so vulnerable being in Bucky's arms but you wanted him badly. You needed him, needed to feel something again. And you knew he could give it to you. You pressed your lips to his and in an instant his hands dropped to your hips pulling you impossibly close against his body. Your hands went to the back of his head as you kissed him messily. Your noses bumped and teeth clashed but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had.

“Fuck, your brother’s gonna kill me,” Bucky mumbled, almost to himself, as he slowly laid you down on your back.

Bucky’s hands trailed up your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh every now and then as he continued kissing you passionately. Your own hands couldn’t help but tug at his shirt desperately. When he did so, your breath was completely taken away. It had been years since you’d seen Bucky without a shirt.

Not only had he been quite skinny just like your brother back then, but not long after leaving for college with Steve he was in a bike accident that left him with ghastly scars and burns along his left arm and shoulder. Since then, it’s fair to say Bucky never really ever took his shirt off. It had taken years just for him to remove the glove he’d always wear to cover the scars on his hand.

“You’ve gotten so strong, James,” you grinned, reaching out to brush the flexed muscles running down his front.

He simply stared at you with an anticipating and anxious expression on his face, waiting for you to state the obvious. When you didn’t, when you pulled his head down to kiss him once again, he almost cried. Bucky hadn’t been with a woman in so long, afraid of this very moment. He knew at that moment, there was no one quite like you.

Bucky fell in love.

“Let me take care of you, darling. You’ve been so good to me,” Bucky whispered huskily in your ear as he trailed his hand under your own shirt brushing his fingertips along the underside of your breast.

His lips pressed softly against your hot skin along your neck before standing up between your legs at the end of the bed. He pulled your shirt off then played cheekily with the straps of your bra that you still had on. You smiled back at him with the same playful stare, reaching behind you to unclasp the material.

You could see the way Bucky’s eyes darken and his pupils widened as he stared in awe at your naked chest. Your skin bursted into chills under his hungry gaze even though you felt like you were burning up. Bucky leaned forward kissing down the valley of your breasts, nipping once in a while playfully before laying you back down. He shimmied you out of your bottoms easily, kneeling on the ground leaving you completely bare before him.

“You are absolutely stunning, princess,” Bucky whispered, running his hands up your thighs slowly.

“Bucky, please. I need you,” you whimpered.

“Don’t worry, darling. I promise I’m gonna take good care of you,” he smirked devilishly.

He pushed your knees open, eyeing the arousal that glistened between your thighs. He brought his fingers up to you slowly rubbing your slick around before finally pushing a thick and long finger past your folds. Your body shuddered solely at the foreign but pleasurable feeling, already moaning softly.

Bucky’s cock strained through pants upon hearing your beautiful moans; they were like music to his ears. He couldn’t help the way his hips would buck into the mattress in a desperate attempt to relieve some pain from his erection. Soon after he pulled his fingers from you slowly only to thrust them further in you, curling his fingers just right.

He brought his mouth down to you, wrapping his lips around your clit sucking harshly. You gasped and your back arched, overwhelmed with pleasure Bucky was giving you with just his mouth and fingers. All the times that you’d given yourself to your ex, he had never made you feel this good before, feel this full; let alone with his fingers. Bucky was taking his time with you solely for your own pleasure and it made your heart swoon.

Your legs trapped Bucky’s head between your thighs, squeezing as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. Your hands went to his hair pulling on his dark locks causing Bucky to moan deeply against you. You were so close to a release; your legs shaking violently and your stomach tightening.

“Come on, princess. Want you to come all over my face. Can you do that for me, darling?”

“Fuck!”

“Be a good girl and make a mess,” Bucky teased.

His fingers moved faster as he swirled his tongue around and over your clit just as quickly. You were becoming overwhelmed and that coil bursted in the pit of your stomach. You pushed Bucky’s face from you, shrieking with pure pleasure; Bucky’s kept the rapid pace with fingers as you fell over the edge.

“Fucking hell, that was so hot, princess,” Bucky said standing up; his fingers, arm, his chest was covered in your arousal.

“Did I do that?” your voice trembled.

“Because of me,” Bucky winked playfully.

“I didn’t know I could do that,” you let your head fall back on the bed as you briefly caught your breath.

Bucky grabbed his shirt that he discarded not long ago and quickly wiped his chest and arm before discarding his pants and boxers. He nearly moaned at the feeling when he finally freed his dick from the restraining garments. His hand instantly wrapped around the base before pumping himself a few times.

You brought yourself onto your elbows momentarily ogling at the sight of Bucky completely bare before you. Your mouth practically watered at the sight. Bucky crawled over you kissing you deeply and messily; but perfectly. He pulled away and you both had goofy smiles on your faces before bursting into a fit of giggles, Bucky’s head burying into the crook of your neck.

“You’re so goddamn adorable, princess,” Bucky’s voice was muffled.

“Bucky,” you whined.

You couldn’t resist squirming underneath the burly man. Although, you’ve just had what was probably the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you wanted more. You needed more; you needed Bucky.

“I got you, darling. I got you.”

Bucky wanted to tease you more, make you beg, but he was just as desperate to feel you as you were. He propped himself up on his elbows kissing you one last time before reaching between your bodies and lining his dick with your entrance. Both you and Bucky moaned simultaneously as he stretched you out; curses spilling from his lips as incoherent moans fell from yours.

“So fucking tight, princess. Squeezing my cock just right, aren’t ya?” he whispered.

“Fuck, I feel so full,” you whimpered.

Bucky began to slowly move his hips in and out of you deliciously. He quickly picked up the pace, jetting his hips rapidly making your moans louder. Bucky sat up on his knees and gripped your waist surely to leave bruises in your wake. This new angle surprised you and you couldn’t help the squeals and moans that left your mouth. You chanted Bucky's name like a prayer; as if it was the only word you knew.

Bucky watched you carefully, your face contorting with pure euphoric pleasure. He couldn’t help notice the small bump in your lower belly and without a second thought, he grabbed your hands pressing them firmly over your tummy.

“You feel how deep I am, darling? Fucking poking through,” Bucky grunted.

“Shit! Oh, it feels so good,” you moaned.

“That’s right, no one’s ever gonna fuck you this good again. This pussy’s mine now,” Bucky growled.

He took one of his hands and wrapped it around your throat squeezing the sides gently but firm at the same time. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned even louder, confident that the neighbors were sure to complain in the morning. Feeling Bucky’s hand around your neck was so exhilarating; you and Daniel had never ever experimented with anything beyond a pair of handcuffs, and that particular night went horribly.

You like being choked by Bucky.

“Fucking slut; you like this, don’t ya?” he came down to whisper huskily against your lips.

“Mh-hm,” you moaned with a devilish grin, your bottom lip resting between your teeth before your eyes rolled back again.

“Such a fucking beauty you are.”

Bucky hips snapped in and out and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he needed to release.

“God, I’m close, princess,” he growled.

His hand moved to rest on the back of your neck to pull you up so you straddled his thighs and your chest was flushed against his. Your sensitive and hardened nipples brushed against his slightly sweaty skin causing you to shudder in pleasure. Bucky’s lips attached themselves to your skin along your collar bones sucking harshly leaving purple marks all along.

Your legs shook once again as they did before and soon enough with an arched back and shout of Bucky’s name you came all over his cock. Overwhelmed with your sex, Bucky bit harshly on your shoulder in a poor attempt to muffled the loud groans and moans he elicited. Feeling your velvety walls squeeze tightly around him pushed him over the edge, coating your walls with hot ribbons on cum.

He fell forward almost crushing you but you were too tired to complain. Bucky continued to pepper soft kisses all over your skin whispering how good you were to him, how beautiful you looked. Just absolutely showering with compliments. You felt him slowly getting off you, probably afraid he was crushing you, but you didn’t want him to leave just yet.

“Don’t,” you whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around his body.

“I don’t want to crush you, darling.”

“You’re not.”

Bucky chuckled before settling completely above you, careful not to make you uncomfortable. Hardly any time went by when he felt the even and soft puffs of air hitting his skin, sure that you had fallen asleep. He picked himself up and with major guilt for his best friend, picked you up from the bed and walked you to his own room.

After he was sure you stayed sound asleep, Bucky grabbed a clean pair of boxers and hurried himself to Steve’s room again. He collected all the discarded clothes and the dirty sheets and tossed them in the washing machine to clean right away.

He hadn’t meant to fuck his best friend’s little sister, let alone in his own room, on his own bed, but it all happened so fast.

He went back to his room letting the clothes do it’s thing, and quickly grabbed his phone. He messaged Steve, telling him that when he got back for his weekend with Peggy, he really needed to talk to him.

Tonight made Bucky realize how much he loved you. Growing up, you two had always been close. But he doesn’t know when he stopped being friendly and instead began flirting. Bucky wanted to be with you; he knew it now more than ever.

Bucky watched your gorgeous sleeping form on his bed. He smiled to himself before opening the window; the sun already rising and those beautiful golden rays seeped through the glass window, making you look angelic. He crawled into bed cuddling flushed against your naked body. He chuckled softly when you realized he’d returned, wiggling even further into his arms.

“I love you, Bucky,” you mumbled.

“I love you, too, darling.”

And he really, and truly did love you. As did you love him.

=======================

ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)

@mathletemadison

@buckybarnes101-blog

@l-sofiamia-l

@pluto-grrl-blog

@partr1dge

@stefans-wife

@cordeliaswhore

@fleurlovesbucky

@povsmarvel0720

@missroro

Bucky Barnes Taglist:

@stolenxkissess

@bucknastayyy38

#marvel smut #bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #james buchanan barnes smut #marvel fics #bucky x y/n

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trans-gerry-keay · 3 years

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Here it is: the TMA tribute I have been working on for ages, finally rendered in color.

[ID: a full color marker illustration of the 14 (+ the Extinction) and John and Martin from TMA. The page is split into fifteen even pizza slices, each with a different entity theme. On top, glued to the page, is a pen drawing of John and Martin on light grey paper.

John leads as they walk to the right, facing away from the viewer and holding up a hand, two floating eyes helping guide his way. A large backpack mirrors the one Martin is wearing, and John holds back a hand which Martin is holding. Martin faces the viewer as he walks forward, smiling slightly. From behind him, tendrils of fog encroach and curl around his foot.

On the pizza slices, starting from one o'clock and going clockwise:

The Vast shows an open sky with distant clouds, a rope ladder swinging across the expanse as a single occupant climbs upward. Below, clouds form into the heads of a massive crowd dissapearring into the distance, each head without a face. Underneath their chins, deep blue water stretches out.

The Lonely shows a ship in greyscale with the silhouette of Peter Lukas standing at the prow. Swirling fog fills the background, and in the distance a person's silhouette stands in a wide, empty street, where vacant buildings bend toward them, fog curling around their ankles.

The Web shows several objects suspended in tangled spiderwebs in front of the silhouette of Hilltop Road. In the web is the engraved web lighter, which is open but not lit, a cassette tape, and a bottle of wine. In the lower right, a large spider perches, its limbs testing the strings of the web.

The Corruption has a background reminiscent of worm tunnels, with shifting sickly yellows, greens, and browns. On the left, a woman in dark grey robes and a surgical mask shows green mold on her skin. A few flies rest on her face, and she stares at the viewer nervously. On her right, a green molding globe is stood upon by a large housefly, and a cheery green and yellow maypole stands. Further right, massive worms, about an inch long and with one silvery side, are obscured by Jane, who is wearing a large coat and facing away from the viewer, her skin full of holes.

The Dark is shown in mostly negative space. On the top, a lightbulb dangles next to a gaping mouth full of teeth and floating pair of eyes. Below, a darkened neighborhood of small houses is shown, in the darkness behind a large wolf and long, twisting tentacles hide. The front of the piece shows Manuela's anti-sun, producing a halo of darkness around itself.

The Hunt has a background of deep green pine trees, and shows a grey wolf with a dead rabbit clutched in its jaws, blood covering its teeth and staining that rabbit's fur. In front of it, there are two drawings of Daisy's wolf form. The first is a closeup on her face, where she tilts her head up, looking at the viewer and saying "RUN." The other is a full body of her hulking form, which is skinny and twisted, tufts of fur coming out of her torn shirt.

The Flesh has a pink and red background reminiscent of intestines. At the top, John's removed rib is haloed. Twisting bodies with extra joints, distorted skin, qnd incorrect proportions are piled below, and at the front, Jared smirks at the viewer, wearing a hoodie with a jarge letter "J", which shifts with strange growths that are barely hidden beneath it.

The Stranger had a red background filled with music notes. At the top, a mannequin has a face awkwardly pinned to it's own, the holes for the eye sockets showing the blank plastic below. A carosel is partially covered by Not!Sasha, who looks at the viewer, leaning in. In front of her, Breekon and Hope look at the viewer, wearing their work uniforms. At the very bottom, the apple from anatomy class grins, next to Nikola Orsinov, who is a mannequin with only a large toothy smile and painted on blush. She is wearing a red and yellow clown outfit with a large white neck ruffle.

The Spiral has a background of bright swirling colors. At the top, a smiling stick figure holds a steaming mug of coffee, a sign next to them reading "CAN'T SLEEP?". a vase, covered with patterns, is gripped on the edge by a greying hand. In the foreground, Michael Distortion waves, opening a large yellow door, within which another bright colorful pattern is swirling. The corridor continues behind, striped in various colors.

The Buried shows a silhouette of a person drowning, bubbles escaping their mouth. Behind them, rocks are scattered, obscured by a coffin wrapped in chains with a tag that reads "DO NOT OPEN". in the distance, tunnels in the ground weave.

The Extinction shows an expanding mushroom cloud blowing out the windows of crumpled buildings, a pile of indistinguishable debris and a rotting couch outlined in front a back sky that features a shattered moon.

The Slaughter has a dark brown background which has a floating tune of music overlayed. The Toy Soldier holds a gun to the left, grinning as it faces right, where the Piper stands. The Piper has three heads, connected at the neck. The one on the left blows into the bagpipes, blood running from beneath its green helmet. The center head faces the viewer, letting out a gutteral scream and staring. Hands, clasped in prayer, hover beneath the center head. The head on the right keeps its mouth closed, but blood and dirt leak from it and drip down its chin, a final hand brought to its brow in a salute.

The End pictures a stature of a weeping angel, obscured partially by a large skull. A book behind them reads "HIS CONSIOUSNESS FADED IN AND OUT LIKE THE TIDE. HE TRIED TO RESIST...". In the top of the slice, grey tendrils curl around a heart imbedded in a ribcage. The heart, which is red, is the only color in the slice.

The Desolation has a stripe of fire flicking across it. Beneath the stripe is a grey and smoky sky behind burned and blackened tree husks. Above the flames, a hand holds a cigarette casually, which smokes. Two candles burn, partially covered by a house whose windows belch flame.

The Eye shows a grinning silhouette with an illuminated eye. Three security cameras look in different directions, overlayed on top of a manilla folder that reads "CASE #I-SEE-YOU. STATEMENT OF..." A large tape recorder waits on the right, and a camera on the left. Words next to the human silhouette read "OUR EYES ARE NEVER CLOSED. WE ARE JUDGING YOU. WE SEE YOU, WATCH YOU..." At the top center, a staring green eye looks down at where John and Martin walk in the center.

/END ID]

#tma #the magnus archives #tma s5 #what do i even tag.#tma s5 spoilers #johnmartin #jonmartin #bell scribbles #live from subject

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tripleaxeldiaz · 3 years

Note

elmosolyodni for the wordstuck prompts 💕

elmosolyodni: to slowly break out into a genuine smile when being overcome with emotions, like love or utter happiness.

read on ao3

As much as he wanted it to be, as much as he wanted it for himself, Eddie’s never been great at romance.

His proposal to Shannon was more like a suggestion, a stuttering statement that tumbled out of him when she showed him the positive test six months after their first date. And he didn’t give it much thought again — didn’t have time to think about it — until a couple months into his tour, when his team was swapping stories about wives and husbands over dinner and someone asked, “So Diaz, how’d you pop the question?”

The fact that he didn’t have a story to tell stung more than he thought it would.

He tried to make it up to her — bought her flowers when he was home, took her out for their anniversary every year, but between parenthood and redeployment and the growing chasm between them when he came back the second time, any notion of romance felt harder and harder to hold onto. And when she left, amid the panic and shame and anger, there was also a sadness, a resignation that the romance he’d quietly craved just wasn’t meant for him. He had bills to pay, a kid to take care of, a life to rebuild. Sweeping gestures from him or for him no longer seemed important.

That all changed when he met Buck, as most things in his life did.

Even before they started dating, Eddie wanted to do things for Buck. He wanted to buy him the shirt in the window display that reminded him of his eyes, wanted to make sure that they always had his weird Icelandic yogurt in the fridge for when he stayed over, wanted to wrap him up when he got that broken look on his face and remind him that he is loved by everyone and especially by Eddie. It was a physical need, one he felt in his gut every time, but he’d shut that part of himself off so firmly that all he could do was hope it didn’t linger too long. Buck needed a friend, and he’d be damned if he did anything stupid enough to ruin what they already had, what they’d already built.

It took a bullet ripping through his abdomen to make him realize what a terrible idea that had been.

But a year later wounds are healed, PT is long done, and he wakes up next to Buck every morning feeling happier than he has in almost a decade. He gets to buy the shirt for him, stock up on yogurt, and press himself into Buck’s space until his eyes get their spark back. He can fantasize about the house they’ll buy or the dogs they’ll adopt once Chris moves out.

He can see a titanium ring in the display case of the jewelry store at the mall and perfectly imagine what it would look like on Buck’s finger.

And he can make it all the way to his truck after buying it before the panic starts to set it.

He doesn’t register driving to Maddie and Chim’s until he’s frantically knocking on the door, hoping he heard Buck right and that Maddie’s off today taking care of a sick Jee-yun. The door flies open, and he sees Maddie’s face go from pissed to surprised to confused as she zeros in on the velvet box held limply in his hand.

“Uh, Eddie, that’s really sweet, but there are a lot of reasons why this would never work.”

His laugh is borderline hysterical as he gently pushes into the apartment. “It’s for Buck, but I— we haven’t really— I don’t even know if—” He doesn’t realize he’s pacing until Maddie takes his elbow and steers him to the couch, hands him a glass of water, and pushes him to sit.

“Breathe. Drink,” she says, and he does as his mind keeps spinning. She sets the empty glass on the coffee table and sits in the armchair across from him. “Okay. You want to propose. That’s a good thing, right?”

“Of course.” It’s the best thing, at the very top of a list of things he thought were untoppable.

“Have you guys talked about getting married?”

It wasn’t so much a conversation as a shift in language — one day the phrase “if we get married” changed to “when we get married” and neither of them thought twice about it because it felt so right.

“Sort of,” he settles on.

“And you’re sure he’d say yes?”

“Yes.” There’s few things in life he’s ever been so sure of, no matter what his earlier panic was making him think.

“So what’s the problem?”

He slumps back on the couch, hands running through his hair. “I don’t know how to do it.”

Maddie squints at him. “Eddie, it’s a pretty hard thing to mess up. And you’ve already been married, so don’t you have some practice?”

“That was different,” he says. “Shannon was already pregnant, it was more like a to-do list item than anything else. I didn’t even get her a ring until a couple months later.”

“Well you’re already a step ahead there, so that’s good.”

He sighs, pulling the ring box out of his pocket again and opening it. The thin line of silver running through the black glints in the sunlight, and he can still picture Buck wearing it so clearly, he’s just not sure how it gets there. All he knows is this aching need he can feel in his chest to make sure that however he does it, it’s enough — more than enough — that Buck knows exactly how deep his love runs, exactly how desperately Eddie needs him in his life and by his side.

Maddie moves to sit next to him and takes the box, and Eddie falls back into the cushions again. “I just want it to be perfect for him,” he says quietly. “Romantic. All the stuff people dream about when they think about getting engaged. But I have no idea how to do that.”

Maddie studies the ring for a minute before shutting the box, pressing it into his hand until he looks her in the eye. Her gaze is steady, piercing, and very (scarily) reminiscent of her brother’s. “You are asking him to marry you. It’s already perfect.” The reassurance helps, and it’s easy to smile back at her when she squeezes his hand.

“But,” she says, reaching for a pen and notebook on the coffee table, “a little romance never killed anyone, so let’s make some lists and figure out what you do and don’t want to do.”

Lists sound good. Eddie can work with lists.

“Rule number one,” she says, already scribbling, “no sporting events. Nothing kills the mood faster than seeing your face on a Jumbotron…”

~~~~~~~~~~

In the end, none of the lists really matter.

Because two weeks later, they’re sitting on the back patio after dinner, night air cool and lit up around them by the lights Chris insisted on hanging for his last backyard sleepover. Buck’s going on about a patient who tried to insist he could do CPR on himself, and Eddie’s hypnotized by his enthusiasm, the expressiveness of his hands and the joyful blush on his cheeks. He says something that makes both of them laugh, bubbling through the quiet of the neighborhood, and Eddie knows, immediately and with every part of him.

He has to ask Buck now. It’s not the candlelit dinner and walk on the beach he’d decided on with Maddie, nor is it even close to as big and bold as anything else they’d come up with. But none of that matters now because his skin is buzzing and his heart is pounding and he doesn’t want the ring burning in his pocket a minute longer — he wants to swear himself to Buck right here, in this moment that is extraordinarily ordinary and perfectly them. This is a story he wants to tell people over and over, to their family and friends and anyone else who will listen.

The universe must still be trying to make up for the hell it put him through last year, because the playlist coming through their portable speaker changes to something softer, romantic, and Eddie takes his chance before he talks himself out of it.

“Dance with me,” he says, standing and offering his hand to Buck.

“I’m sorry, are my stories boring?” Buck laughs as he takes his hand, folding into Eddie’s space like he’s always meant to be there, arms wrapping around his waist and pulling him close.

“Never,” Eddie says, and he pauses, because the one thing he and Maddie didn’t talk about was what he actually wanted to say to Buck when he asked. And now that he’s here with very little preparation, the huge, all-encompassing feelings he has for Buck refuse to be wrangled into a few measly sentences. None of the words he can think of feel big enough to capture how deeply his love runs, and he can feel his skin start buzzing for a much more unpleasant reason.

Hands squeeze his waist, zoning him back in and focusing him on Buck, on the crease between his eyebrows and the worry around his mouth. “Everything okay?” he asks, because he always knows when Eddie gets lost in himself, sometimes even before Eddie figures it out.

Buck knows him better than he knows himself. He doesn’t need big, poetic monologues for Buck to understand what’s going on inside his head.

The buzzing changes again, fueling his determination as he slips his hand into his pocket. “I love you. So much it’s almost scary. But I’m more scared of spending the rest of my life without you,” he holds the ring up between them, “so will you marry me?”

Buck freezes, stopping them both from swaying with the music. Eddie watches his eyes flit between the ring and Eddie and back again, holding his breath as he waits for an answer. Finally, Buck’s eyes lock on Eddie and stay there, a soft smile growing and growing until it’s so incandescently bright that Eddie’s afraid he might have to look away or risk losing his vision.

And then, just as quickly, Buck drops his hands from Eddie’s waist and runs back into the house.

Eddie honestly isn’t sure what to make of this, the only thought running through his head being what the fuck just happened here. But then Buck’s running back outside, still smiling and not-so-secretly holding something behind his back, and now it’s Eddie’s turn to glow.

“You’re joking,” he says quietly, cheeks already hurting from a smile that feels permanent and eyes feeling a little wet.

Buck shakes his head, his eyes shining too as he holds up the velvet box. “Bought it like a month ago when Chris and I went to buy him a new backpack, I had to bribe him with a new video game to keep him quiet. I haven’t even gotten a chance to tell Maddie yet.”

Eddie wouldn’t be surprised if the sheer amount of joy coursing through his veins was making him float a couple inches off the ground. “Is that a yes then?” he asks.

Buck’s laugh is loud and sharp, and Eddie can’t think of a more perfect sound. He takes the ring out and tosses the box aside, holding it up next to the one in Eddie’s hand. “Only if you’ll marry me too.”

It’s a flurry, then, of rings on fingers and breathless kisses and whispers of I love you, I love you so much. The whirlwind settles and they start swaying to the music again, holding each other even closer, and Eddie revels in the new weight on his hand that ties them together. He feels light and loved, completely enveloped in this romance that he’s finally able to give fully and receive just as well.

Buck takes his hand and places a kiss just below his ring, and Eddie knows this is just the beginning. They have a lifetime of love and happiness ahead of them, and Eddie finally feels like he deserves it.

#buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #buddie fic #911 fic #9-1-1 #can i offer you all some proposal fluff in these trying times???#alicia i'm sorry this took forever!!!#ficcery

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jungshookz · 3 years

Text

teeny tidbits: namjoon and y/n can’t get enough of each other & it shows

➳ pairing; kim namjoon x y/n

➳ genre; lveb!universe!!! smaybe/smalmost/smerhaps smut?? slightly suggestive is what i’m trying to say idk!! namjoon and y/n are obsessed with each other and yoongi likes making a big deal about it because both their faces get really red and it’s funny to him

➳ wordcount; 1.7k

➳ gif sourced from here but please note that it still remains property of its original maker!

»»————-　♥　————-««

“hello, hellooo!” yoongi kicks the door shut behind him as he steps into your apartment, tossing his set of keys up into the air before catching it and shoving it into his hoodie pocket, “let’s rock n’ roll, y/n! i’m ready to raid the supermarket!” he claps his hands as he enters the living room, turning to stare down the empty hallway before pausing

wow

the most exciting part of his week is when you guys go grocery shopping together?

there’s really no way to make that sound even remotely cool

“…anyone home?” yoongi’s brows furrow in concern when he’s acknowledged by nothing but the sound of silence, “y/n?”

you’re usually sitting on the couch buzzing and ready to go when he gets here so it’s a little concerning that you weren’t the first thing he saw when he got here

he turns back to look at the shoe rack, everything suddenly clicking into place when he sees that there’s a pair of larger, definitely-not-y/n-sized sneakers sitting neatly on the top shelf

ahhhhh

okay

now he understands what’s going on

no wonder you barely responded to any of his texts yesterday

you were too busy getting busy with-

“yoongi! good morning!”

“morni-” yoongi turns his head back towards the hallway quickly, his brows practically stretching up to his hairline at the sight of namjoon’s current state

first of all, the man is wearing nothing but a blanket around his waist and it’s pretty clear to see that he’s not wearing any briefs underneath

second of all, his cheeks are flushed, his hair is ruffled, and his skin is glowing

and yoongi isn’t a self-proclaimed genius but he knows that two plus two makes four

“wow, wow, wow! good morning indeed-” yoongi whistles, immediately looking upwards as to avoid accidentally making eye contact with namjoon’s… fifth lim- “i’m hoping that’s a cactus under your blanket and that you’re not just ecstatic to see me-”

“oh-!” namjoon gasps lightly, quickly pulling the blanket up a little higher before turning his hips in the other direction, “i, um, i didn’t know you were coming over today!“ he chuckles awkwardly, his grip tightening on the sheets, “i just came out for some water so i wasn’t expecting to see you- uh, did you have plans with y/n today?”

“yeah, it’s sunday, so… grocery shopping and stuff.” yoongi looks back down before holding his hand up to shield namjoon’s lower half from his poor, innocent eyes, “you’re welcome to come with us, but i’m definitely going to need you to at least put some underwear on-”

“today’s sunday?” namjoon breathes out, pausing for a second before blinking quickly and shaking his head, “jeez, i thought it was saturday! time flies, huh?”

“it sure does…” the corner of yoongi’s mouth twitches in a smirk before he pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, “…especially when you’re spending most of it railing y/n into oblivion-”

“yoongi-”

“speaking of y/n!” yoongi claps his hands and rubs them together, “is she ready to go?” he hums, leaning over slightly so he can peer into the hallway over namjoon’s shoulder

“she’s, um, she’s actually still in bed but but i’ll go and tell her now that you’re waiting for her-” namjoon smiles sheepishly before pointing towards the kitchen, “do you want coffee or anything? i can make a latte for you! i’ve been practicing a lot with my frother- y/n really likes my milk foam-”

“oh, i bet she does-” yoongi snorts, leaning against the back of the couch before crossing his arms, “maybe next time, my man. you just go and get y/n for m- holy shit!” his eyes widen as soon as namjoon spins around to head back down the hallway, namjoon immediately turning back to glance at yoongi over his shoulder in concern

“what??”

“your back!” yoongi gawks, getting up from the couch to go over and force namjoon to turn back around so he can get a better look, “jesus, it looks like you got into a fight with like, ten cats!” he exclaims, his eyes glued on the fading red claw marks that start at namjoon’s shoulders and end at his lower back

he brushes his fingers over the (obviously fresh) half-crescent nail marks embedded on the tops of namjoon’s shoulders before wincing to himself, “maybe i should’ve gotten y/n a nail clipper for christmas-”

“o-oh-!” namjoon whips back around so that his back is facing the hallway before he reaches up to rub the back of his neck, offering yoongi a nervous smile, “i, uh, it’s- i’m totally fine, don’t even worry about it-”

“joonie, i-” yoongi perks up when he hears your voice only for you to pop out from behind namjoon a second later, “yoongi! ...you’re here?” you ask, ducking behind namjoon slightly and peeking at him over his shoulder

“it’s sunday, moron.”

“...?”

“oh, dear god-” yoongi gasps suddenly, eyes widening as he brings a hand up to cover his mouth, “namjoon fucked you dumb, didn’t he? i bet that banging your head against the headboard multiple times made you lose a bunch of brain cells. now i'm going to have to be the smart one out of the two of us??”

you roll your eyes immediately at yoongi’s sarcastic remark, though his comment about namjoon makes your cheeks warm slightly

last week you slept over at his apartment so this week it was your turn to be a good host

and naturally…

let’s just say that you showed him how good of a host you were on the kitchen counter,,.., in bed,,.. on the couch,.,. in the hallway,.., in bed again.,.,

“anyway- how long do you need to get ready? twenty minutes?” yoongi pulls his phone out of his back pocket to check the time, “i wanna get my hands on a fresh, warm loaf of sourdough so we have to leave soon otherwise they’re all going to be gone and we’ll have to wait, like, five hours for the bakery to restock.”

“right! yes! sourdough!” you clear your throat, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear as you sort through your thoughts

you didn’t know today was sunday so you weren’t ready to go grocery shopping at aLL

“okay! coffee first, then i’ll change, then we go-” you nod, nudging namjoon aside so you can brush past him

“yeah, i think i’m gonna pop in the shower-” namjoon clears his throat, pulling the blanket up again before gesturing back towards the hallway, “i’m happy to stay here if you guys wanna go off and do your yoongi-y/n-only activities-”

“woah, woah-”

you don’t get the chance to walk past yoongi before he’s reaching over and pinching the back of your shirt to keep you from going anywhere

you let out a little yelp when he tugs you back abruptly before twirling you around so that you’re facing namjoon

“kim namjoon, you naughty, naughty man! what did you do to y/n??”

“wha- what?” namjoon blinks owlishly, yoongi tsking shamefully before wagging a finger at him

“look!” yoongi gasps, hooking his finger into the collar of the shirt you’re wearing before yanking it down so he can expose more of your skin, “what, were you trying to suck the blood out of her??”

heat immediately rushes up namjoon’s neck and up to his ears when he realizes that yoongi’s referring to the multiple blotches of purple and red staining your skin

maybe he got a little carried away last night

but there were no complaints on your end so namjoon was more than happy to mark you up!

“he-” your face flushes and you slap yoongi’s hand away before pulling your shirt up to hide them, “they’re just hickies, yoongi-”

“first of all, only horny teenagers give each other hickies- second of all, hickies are supposed to be sexy little secrets-” yoongi hums, seemingly uncaring of the way that you wince as soon as he jabs his pointer finger directly into one of them (ow!!), “and these practically scream I’M GETTING LAID and every single single person that we pass by is going to glare at you-”

“why don’t you go and make us some coffee while i go and get changed?” you turn to give yoongi a warning look before pointing to the kitchen door, “go!”

“i’m just looking out for the two of you!” yoongi raises his hands in defense, letting out a laugh as when you start kicking at him gently all while slowly nudging him towards the direction of the kitchen, “is it so bad of me to want to protect you from mr. mosquito over ther- ow, okay, okay-!”

you close the kitchen door shut with a breath, rolling your eyes at the sound of yoongi still babbling away to himself (“i’m realizing now that a vampire would’ve been a sexier example but mr. mosquito was the first thing that came to my head-”)

you turn your head slowly with your hand still on the doorknob, you and namjoon exchanging glances before bursting into giggles

“sorry... you know how he gets.” you mutter sheepishly, making sure the door is closed properly before making your way back over to namjoon

“it’s all good!” he flicks his wrist at you before reaching up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly, “sorry about the, uh, the hickies.”

“it’s okay... i like ‘em, so...” you confess quietly, your stomach fluttering at the memory of namjoon’s soft lips pressing against your skin, “sorry about the scratches.”

“no, i like them too... they remind me that i’m probably doing a good job-” namjoon grins as he slips his free arm around your waist before pulling you towards him, another soft giggle bubbling from your lips when he swoops down to give you a kiss, “guess i’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone… i’ll miss you.”

“i’ll only be gone for a couple of hours…” you tease, reaching up to pinch his cheeks together so that his lips turn squidgy, “needy.”

“for god’s sake, i’m taking her grocery shopping, i’m not sending her off to space!” the kitchen door suddenly swings open as yoongi busts through, clapping his hands loudly to break the two of you up before he flicks his wrists to get you to move, “c’mon, let’s get a move on- i want my sourdough!”

✨why don’t you explore the rest of the library while you’re here?

💫or perhaps you want something shorter to read?

🌟or something even shorter?

435 notes · View notes

hwangsies · 4 years

Text

[7:59 pm]

jeno lee x reader (smut)

warnings: swearing, mentions of a fight, shower sex, fingering, hair pulling & a little restraining, a little degrading & praise ofc to balance it out lol, they are in very much love ew

1.6 k words,

enjoy <3

You sit on the couch, scrolling through social media as the door to your apartment opens.

Looking over, you see a sweaty jeno step into the room. He just finished dance practice and is wearing black sweats and a grey shirt which perfectly fits his toned body.

Your face brightens when you see him, smiling as you walk over to greet him.

“hi baby” he says while slipping out of his shoes.

“hi handsome, you’re late” you joke and kiss him once he’s done, your smile fades when you see his facial expression.

Mad isn’t the right word, he looks more sad and kind of angry at the same time, so you know something is bothering him.

“you look beautiful” he says, smiling softly. Your hair is curled and your makeup is done, you were waiting for him to get home because tonight was date night.

“you look sad, what’s wrong?” you run your hand down from the back of his neck to his chest.

“nothing baby, let me just shower real quick and then we can go, yea?” he pecks your cheek and disappears into the bathroom, without letting you answer him.

You stand around for a minute or two, thinking what could have happened in the few hours you weren’t together; and how you could approach it since jeno has a habit of not communicating his feelings properly (of course he does, he’s a taurus).

However you do feel sorry for him and don’t want him having to sit through an entire dinner while his head is somewhere else.

You slowly open the bathroom door, the big glass in front of your shower is fogged up and you can only make out his silhouette. His hands running through his hair as you start to strip from your nice clothes.

When a soft sigh halls through the room, you know he’s crying, whether it be out of sadness or frustration.

He doesn’t hear you coming into the floor integrated shower and flinches as you rest your head on his broad back and connect your hands around his stomach in the front.

“what are you doing” he asks softly as he turns around, looking at you with his big brown eyes.

And your hunch is right, he had been crying, the white of his eyes being slightly boodhsot as he sniffles.

“im trying to comfort you” you mumble, looping your arms around his waist again “can you tell me what’s wrong now?” you ask softly, his big palms running down your back lovingly.

“I fought with haechannie, it was a stupid misunderstanding but I just wanted to get out of there quickly because of date night and I said stuff I just wish I hadn’t” he finally admits.

“im sorry about that baby” you pout, cupping his face in your hands “but he’ll forgive you if you apologize, you know that”

“yea i know” he sighs.

“how are you always right?” he cradles your face in his hands and wipes the smudged mascara under your eyes away with his thumbs.

You shrug playfully “it’s a gift” at which he huffs amusedly.

“Im sorry for this too” jeno whispers, moving his hands down to your waist.

“for what?” you ask confusedly.

“for making you ruin your pretty hair and makeup, and our special evening” he rests his forehead against yours, locking eyes.

“its okay, we can go to dinner some other day, I just want you to be happy when we go” you assure him.

At which he smiles warmly “so I can have all of your attention, of course” you add playfully, making him laugh.

He turns the both of you around, pressing you against the cold wall tiles, eliciting a small shriek from your lips.

Quickly, he uses that opportunity to press his lips to yours. Not long after his tongue prods at the seam of your lips.

As his tongue slides against your own, he grabs one of your thighs to hoist it up against his hipbone, holding you closer against him and moving the two of you out of the showers stream. One of your hands flies up to grab at his wet locks, tugging at it lightly, making him grunt into the kiss.

He moves his mouth to your neck, leaving a faint trail of love bites in his wake.

“jeno” you moan when he sucks at the soft skin just above your collarbone, his hands roughly trapping you in between his hot body and the cold tiles.

“baby” you feel your voice crack when the hand that isn’t holding up your thigh slips in between your legs.

His calloused fingers glide through your folds effortlessly due to how aroused you are.

One finger quickly turns into two as he pumps them into you at a quick but steady rhythm, his thumb rubbing at your clit.

“fuck-“ you cry out before he plants his mouth on yours again.

“you wanna cum now or on my cock?” jeno asks through gritted teeth, staring into your eyes as your hand curls around his flexing bicep, his fingers not slowing down.

“both” you whimper in a heartbeat.

He scoffs as a grin stretches over his face “greedy little slut” he whispers underneath your ear before sinking his teeth into the skin there.

“choose” he grunts, locking eyes with you again and stopping his fingers when he feels you furiously clenching down on them.

You whimper, a pout adorning your lips as you look up at him with those ‘dick sucking eyes’, which is how he likes to call them.

“on your cock” you whine when he tilts his head expectantly.

“that’s what I thought” he grins pulling out his fingers to deliver two gently smacks to your sensitive cunt.

He chuckles when you flinch and spins you around, you press you hands flat to the tiles as a wet smack lands on your right buttcheek.

After a few seconds of no skin contact you look behind you to see your boyfriend stroking himself as he looks you up and down.

“what are you doing” you whine, poking out your butt a little more, wiggling it for good measure.

“fuck” finally his hands are on you again, one of them holding your face so he can kiss your lips.

“I just love you” he confesses as he grinds his hard shaft against your butt “you’re so fucking perfect”

“I love you so much” you say back, at which another kiss is pressed to your swollen lips “please fuck me” you exhale, almost desperate.

“yes, fuck I will, love” he groans sucking at your earlobe as he runs the thick tip of his cock through your arousal.

“baby oh-“ your body surges forwards a little when jeno presses himself inside of you.

He shushes you gently, pressing kisses to your shoulder to distract you form the slightly stinging stretch you’re feeling.

“that’s it, love suck me in” he groans as he watches you take everything of him, sliding a hand up your back.

“good baby?” he checks, moving the hair from one side of your neck to press a kiss there.

“yes- move please” you moan when he complies to your wish.

You lean your head forward against the wall, scrunching your eyes together when your boyfriend hits your spot effortlessly.

His hand tangles in your hair before pulling your head back with it.

“ah” you reach back to scramble for something of him to grab onto when jeno grabs your hand with his free one to hold it against the small of your back.

“oh my- ‘m gonna cum” you cry out when he sucks a bruise onto your shoulder, his hips not missing a beat.

You can feel the warmth of your orgasm bubble up quickly, jenos thrusts starting to get sloppier as he is close too.

Him groaning your name and filthy things into your ear sends you over the edge, feeling your muscles tense up and release at the same time.

He lets go of your hand only for you to grab at the wall in front of you, your thighs quivering as you cum all over him.

“that’s it, love” he coaxes you through it, continuing to kiss your skin before you turn your head around to lock lips.

“cum in me” you whimper in overstimulation, surprised that you haven’t tipped over yet.

“fuck” he grunts, the grip on your hips not letting you fall as his thrust become shallow and he finds his high in you as well.

Your legs are shaky when he pulls out of you but he stabilizes you, pulling you I for a hug as he moves the both of you under the stream of the warm water again.

“we just wasted so much water” you mumble into his neck sleepily.

Jenos chest vibrates with laughter “is that what you were thinking about the entire time?” he asks rhetorically.

“of course” you grin as you lock eyes again.

He shakes his head playfully before turning off the water.

You shiver as you step out of the shower, he hands you a towel and wraps one around his waist before he leaves the room to get dressed.

A few minutes later, as you’re putting on moisturizer, jeno leans against the doorframe.

“what” you grin back at him through the mirror, he comes up behind you and lets his finger run over the purple marks he created on your neck.

“sorry about that” he smirks and kisses on of the spots.

“I’ll be fine” you joke and turn around to kiss him.

“hm- wanna order some food?” he hums before dropping another kiss to your lips.

You nod excitedly at which he smiles.

“I love you”

#it starts of a lil sad but it gets rly nasty ajshssk #oopsie i guess #or nah #nct #nct dream #nct dream smut #jeno smut #jeno lee #jeno #jeno lee smut #nct dream jeno #nct dream x reader #nct dream hard hours #nct dream soft hours #jeno fluff #boyfriend!jeno #did i mention the end is sappy again? no? oops #anyways ik no one asked for thi sand it kinda sucked but idk i watched a boom fancam of him after a while and man this dude is shexy

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dracoladon · 4 years

Note

Hello lovely! What about est relationship + borrowing clothes? Maybe Draco wearing Harry’s shirts or jumpers? Could be as fluffy or smutty (or both) as you want 💗 - sitp

thank u liv for this lovely prompt. fair warning: buckle your seatbelts for the not one but two sets of parentheses within another set of parentheses.

i was tragically torn between soft and smutty in this one. we’ve ended up with kind of both and kind of neither — enjoy 😔

explicit(ish), 1389 words

The first time, Draco takes Harry’s jumper. It’s his, his favourite, knitted by Molly and given to him when he was twenty years old. It’s blue, and has a whale on the front in a deep navy tincture (the noughties were when Molly entered her experimental phase — instead of letters, everyone's Christmas sweater bore some kind of (no offence, Molly, but utterly random) image. Ginny’s had a platypus on it, Percy’s had yew branches up the sleeves, and Ron’s, an impressively detailed Muggle toaster (??) across the chest.)

Whatever. Logic aside, Harry loves his jumper, and he loves his whale, who Ron dubbed Herbert towards the befuddled, tipsy end of the night. (“Herb for short,” he said, and then collapsed into his eggnog.) He loves that Molly chose it for him, the Warming charms entwined in the wool that feel like her fierce, protective magic against his skin, and the way it’s become loose and pliant with age.

Unfortunately for Harry (and Herb), Draco likes the jumper too. Likes it so much that he sees fit to employ every Slytherin-y wile in his arsenal to try and steal it.

“I don’t understand why you covet poor Herb, Draco,” Harry says, when he goes looking for the jumper and finds it missing from it’s drawer again. “I would have thought him nowhere near sophisticated enough for your tastes.”

Draco sniffs and rolls onto his stomach. “I’m sure I haven’t a clue what you’re on about,” he says, and manages to sound lofty even with his face half buried in a pillow.

* * *

The second time, Harry takes Draco’s tie. It’s a silvery grey one that’s the same colour as his eyes, a custom made gift from Pansy for his last birthday.

And Potter, the cheeky fuck, has stolen it. A looter, ruthlessly purloined it in an unscrupulous heist, that he’s probably been planning ever since they first started dating, or is it why he even pursued Draco in the first place(?!), just to whisk it away from everything it knows, and—

“That’s quite enough,” Harry says. “And I didn’t take your tie.”

Draco slams his hand down on the kitchen bench. “Lies! Fraudulence!—”

“—I took ransom. You’ll get your tie back when you return my son.”

Well. Well! Draco pretends to dust lint from his sleeve. He says, cooly, “Herbert prefers my company, anyway.”

“He does not.”

* * *

The third time, Draco takes Harry’s Muggle jeans.

And he’s a ferrety little ferret faced liar, because he’s complained about the jeans in question since the first time he saw them.

“How did you get the knees so dirty?” Draco said. He looked the picture of aristocratic disdain with his nose all crinkled up like that. “Have you been sucking cock al fresco?”

“We’re coming back to that,” Harry had said (and they did), and then shut Draco up with a nice, long snog when he started on the rips and the faded denim and the fit-so-tragically-loose-I-can’t-even-see-your-arse.

And now Draco is wearing them, slung low on his hips as he shrugs off his coat.

“You fuck,” Harry says, partially because those are his and Draco is an insufferable hypocrite, and partially (mostly) because the jeans are so big around Draco’s waist that Harry can see the cuspated jut of his hip bones and the little silver ring in his navel.

Draco looks down, all feigned innocence. He says, “Don’t you think they suit me?”

Harry mutters, “I’ll suit you in a bloody minute,” and pulls him by the wrist towards the men’s, where he sucks him off so hard and fast that Draco bites the crook of his elbow till it bleeds.

* * *

The fourth time, Harry takes Draco’s slippers. And Draco’s feet are cold.

“Those are mine. Mine,” Draco tells Herbert, looking down at his chest as he shuffles around his cold flat in the thickest socks he could find.

He knows he’s not exactly a sentient being, but Draco would like to think Herbert looks sympathetic all the same.

The rugs on his tiled floors are for purposes more aesthetic than comfort — it’s bloody cold in the mornings, and without Harry to tangle his legs around or order to the kitchen so he doesn’t have to brave it himself, he needs. His. Slippers.

The thing about it that’s most troubling, really, is that, was Draco less of an idiot (Pansy’s words) who had just chosen floorboards for his flat and not mosaic tile (because he lives in Britain and not fucking Madrid, so on,) he probably wouldn’t mind that Harry has pilfered from him yet again.

Harry’s stopped asking for his jumper back. Or rather, extorting Draco until it’s returned. And Draco’s content in leaving his tie wound around the wrought iron posts of Harry’s bed, and Harry thinks his jeans look better on Draco than they ever did on him.

It’s hideous, really, because Draco has never even liked sharing (Draco does not share, in fact), but somehow he’s ended up with a wardrobe that’s more Harry’s than it is his, and the black trousers that flatter his arse so brilliantly are gone, and so is the faded Quidditch jersey he only wears when he’s ill. And he doesn’t even mind, because he knows when he goes to Harry’s flat he’ll find it all stuffed into the antique dressing table drawers taken from Sirius’ room at Grimmauld Place, smelling like Harry and his warm, sapid laundry soap.

Draco says to Herbert, “This is your fault.”

* * *

This time, Draco takes Harry’s dressing gown. He’s wearing it when he emerges from the bathroom, water still sluicing off the delicate ridge of his nose, off his hair and down his back because he never dries himself properly. (I have sensitive skin. I’ll break out in hives. Harry knows it’s just an excuse to lounge naked on the couch while he “air dries”, but whatever.)

“You’re dripping all over the carpet,” Harry says, leaning on his palms against the door frame of his bedroom.

Draco says, looking around at him, “Ah. My sweet. I was just coming to fetch you.”

“Why?”

“I’ve drawn us a bath,” says Draco.

Harry had planned on making some tea and watching Come Dine With Me, perhaps Floo calling Ron and Hermione to see how the renovations on their flat are coming along. But Draco is all wet and warm and glossy, and smelling like the expensive bubbles he refuses to bathe without.

Harry lets Draco lead him to the bathroom, where the floor is wet with his footprints and the air is thick with perfume and soft, cradling breeze from the cracked open window.

“This is my dressing gown,” Harry says, stepping closer so he can slide it from Draco’s slight shoulders.

Draco reaches for Harry’s flies. “And these are my knickers, you troll,” he says, and hooks his thumbs into the waistband.

Once both disrobed (Harry’s shirt flung over the counter, the pilfered dressing gown puddled on the floor, both of them hard and flushing) they step into the bath. Draco likes the water scalding despite his dainty skin, but he must know Harry prefers not to be boiled alive because it’s just sultry, just warm.

Gold fretted shadows slide over Draco’s face as they settle, legs tangled at the knees, Harry tracing shapes around the delicate knob of Draco’s ankle.

Harry feels elastic in the water, melting with pale, gauzy limbs draped all over him.

“C’mere,” Draco says. “I want to wash your hair.”

When Harry hands him a bottle, he says, “Not with that utter swill. Mine.”

Draco means his shampoo, but Harry knows he means him a little bit, too.

A soft, pleasurable thrill runs through him. Harry loves the smell of Draco’s shampoo. He thinks it smells like wide open spaces, like walking over the crest of a hill. He also thinks it smells a bit like spices, like star anise and cinnamon, and lemon zest and sage. The scent on the bottle reads Cedar, which, okay. Fine.

Draco uncaps it, squeezes a pearlescent puddle into his palm. He sets himself on Harry’s lap, and takes his cock slowly, sweetly, chest to chest, with his fingers twisted in Harry’s hair.

Harry rocks him in the water, his head bowed into Draco’s collar bones as he laves and rinses, soft and soft and slow.

* * *

most important things in my life (in ascending order)

friends

family

harry being hot for Draco in low slung trousers

draco having a belly button ring that is exposed in said trousers

#my writing #answered #sitp #prompts #drarry

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legendaryoikawa · 4 years

Text

ares / suna rintarou / masterlist

pairing: suna x female reader

word count: 2k

synopsis: your stalker must’ve adore you so so much, he intends to kill for you.

quote: “If you're that obsessed with someone, why would you kill her? Humans are full of contradictions.” - Ai Yazawa

genre: stalker!au, caters mature themes such as manipulation, voyeurism, public masturbation, murder, violence coercion, borderline obsession.

note: i do not condone these behavior in real life. this is just a work of fiction.

minors dni

taglist: @boosyboo9206 @dokisaki (can’t tag) @godjo@flavostella02 @heykoutaro (can’t tag) @aleacarnin@licitix@katsukis-sad-angel@k-sakura @dokisuki (can’t tag) @black-water-78@throughtheinterstices @iloverarepares @newfriendjen @aizawaslovebot @ratatouille407 @midnightartist @ya-kkun @daicrie @mochipk @kanesshiiweeb @134340-cm @svgafresh @annexerca @neavil @paigypol (can’t tag) @aggressivelyshoutsokay thank you for the love and support!

BE PART OF MY TAGLIST HERE

Truly an ace of all fools.

Ares, the god of war. As Homer called him, murderous, bloodstained, the incarnate curse of mortals.

Name it, Suna knows every possible if not, unique ways to kill. He prefers the crowbar as it’s efficient and easy enough to send a person to their graves. For his very own pleasure. It fuels him especially when he sees those eyes that were once full of life drown down to darkness of death.

Suna is known as one of the notorious lads at school. He never fails to leave an astonished look to every person he has passed by at school. People are stunned whenever he walks down the hallway with his school shirt unbuttoned and crumpled. His overall appearance is unruly with the noticeable scars that lingered on his face like ches. His disheveled jet black hair. Eyes that bore nothing but darkness. Chains dangling from each of his ears. His aura that is explainable and unassailable that could even strike the thunderbolt of the great god Zeus.

Suna is handsome. He looks like bad news. Wild.

He wielded an enormous influence among girls. Some swoon at the mere sight of him; others even resorted to some chase yet ended up a crying mess. Boys even fall for his charms, but one sharp glance is enough to wave them off like flies.

However, you on the other hand are not fazed by him nor his silhouette. Which made him to be drained by a pure soul like you.

Suna is so private and closed like an abandoned establishment and that could be the sole reason why people want to pry into his life. He had everyone controlled on the palm of his hand but he can’t seem to play with you like he initially plans to.

Suna has the patience of a boar. He shows signs of violence that it’s alarming. But people seem to be in love at his bad boy facade, no one dares to report him.

He is a living contradiction. Suna is a ride, a deadly one.

He comes to school with his boisterous friends that look exactly like how he presents himself. You can always hear their uproarious banters about their lives, endless wolf-whistling. They are the group of boys you wouldn’t want to mess with. Especially the mysterious Suna.

You made a promise to get the shit out of the tracks that had traces of the boisterous boy that is Suna.

Not just the boys that have brought out the never ending fiasco circulating around your highschool. There have been a high number of mysterious disappearances of students that you may have never heard of or slightly familiar to you that you cannot recall. Their skulls are cracked open with a brute force or a bullet to the head. Some are strangled, some are mutilated, and what makes it terrifying is that most of the victims are leading down to you.

You can still remember how Kang Hana spent her afternoon with you in the library for a philosophy project. You admit it yourself that Hana isn’t the preferable company. She’s too nosy, noisy and quite violent towards you as she keeps on hitting you on the arm whenever you spill something stupid. Nevertheless, you held no grudge towards the girl. And you were really stunned at the news of her sudden death.

Oh, you didn’t know someone was watching from the windows of the library outside. Irritability bubbles inside his body like a brook. He allows no one to go near you, let alone to hit you like a ragged doll. He always had a thing for you, he didn’t know when it started but by the way you looked at him like you are almost something to be disregarded. He is drawn to you like a moth to the flame.

It is always in Suna’s system. His mind is a bully, gushing him to do things that would make him thrilled, something that could awaken his fantasies.

He wants to kill. And he did.

He stood in all his glory, wearing his uninterested look while scrutinizing the other students walking along the hall. There at the lockers he spots Kang Hana awkwardly fumbling with the entangled bag straps.

His dark eyes bore into Hana’s figure. Eyeing her from head to toe. At this moment he is thinking of what he can possibly do with those limbs. Break it? Smash it? Mutilate it like how they do in the slaughterhouse? Suna approaches her figure, his switchblade ready in his windbreaker’s pockets.

He breaths, trying to muster his oh-so-charming smile. “Hey.”

Hana raises up her gaze and she is surprised that the notorious Suna is approaching her. Only if she knew his real intentions. “Oh my god. Hey.”

Suna is charming. Quite egocentric. It doesn’t take him long to persuade someone to sp with him or to go out on a date with him. If there is something you should be afraid about Suna, it is his ability to deceive people without them knowing his real motives. He has a calm demeanor but sometimes his arrogance fuels him to be so wild-driven.

He leads Hana to the abandoned establishment at the rundown part of the town. He made sure to give her a signal to meet him outside where no witnesses could see them. It’s always a step when considering crime, get rid of witnesses.

At this moment, Hana starts to get excited because she has foreseen what could happen. For her it’s sex. For him, it’s blood. Suna draws his switchblade near her carotid artery. She widens her eyes but laughter resonates in the eerie place.

She purrs. “I am a kinky person but I can try knife play.”

Suna doesn’t play. He draws the knife deeper to her neck until she realizes he is not joking at all. Kang Hana’s heart made a beeline for her throat and tried to make a f for her life but Suna had his strong hand gripping her hair.

She struggles but after every move she dares, the knife further penetrates her neck. Beads of sweat are dropping down to her cheeks. A hot sticky liquid from where the knife is trickling down her neck, dampening her collarbones down to her bra. She cries loud. “What do you want?!”

Suna smirks. He misses the familiar scent of blood flooding in his nostrils. “Your life.”

Her eyes widened in pure horror as the charming prince transformed quickly as a ruthless psychopath in just the blink of her eye. Hana tries to fight against his hold once again but Suna wants to finish off and not to take care of a wailing woman.

He repeatedly lash out the knife through her neck. The impact of his pounds set out her blood gushing out, splashing his pale cheeks. His right hand is dripping with her hot blood. Suna’s chest rose as his breathing became ragged but overall he felt so alive and content. He stares at Hana’s figure sprawled on the floor bathing with the pool of her own blood. Suna felt so driven with just crimson clouding his vision. He runs his tongue on the rows of his pearly teeth, a sinister smile tugging the corners of his lips. He did it for you.

The following days have been hell for you. No, you weren’t killed but you faced a frightening number of police interrogations for the victims were always drawing down to you. Like Hana, you were the last person she was with before her neck was slashed out like a cow in the slaughterhouse. The pulse of a blue and red strobe from the police mace being parked in the circular driveway. You stare at the officer's badge, his holstered Glock. The night air settles the eerie night, still, gauzy full of humidity.

The interview lasts about a good hour but you are deemed innocent as Hana’s whereabouts where the crime took place didn’t match your activity. Her clothes are missing on the spot but the investigators found it drenched in this liquid they believed was an oxygen producing detergent didn’t match. Since the laboratory personnel couldn’t get any fingerprints from her body, it has been declared useless for the crime.

It has been weeks since you find yourself able to breathe again but it didn’t last long when you were bombarded with unknown and creepy messages that you couldn’t withstand at all.

I know you. From everything you do, I know it all.

You belong to me, your full name.

I find it romantic to see how excited you look whenever I send these messages. Shall I start sending my pictures as well? Or the throne I made for you?

From morning you go to your mother’s flower shop to gather primrose to deliver to your grandfather that lives in the twenty second street downtown.

Your favorite thing to do is to draw, my sweet. I am right, am I? I’m always right.

I saw you talk to that small loser from class D. Now don’t ever talk to him again or you will see his head delivered right at your doorstep. I love you and I’m being the nice guy here.

Do you perhaps like the idea of your friend's limbs personally delivered to you? Your pick.

I am always watching you, your name.

Oh, you had a museum date with your friends? Don’t go, I am at your grandmother’s restaurant, she serves the ultimate broth soup. Too bad I can stop her from serving these delicacies.

I know deep down, you love me too. Don’t you ever try to date behind my back without telling me. I did kill for you.

Your parents aren’t home. Do you want me to visit?

So much love for you. Your long secret admirer :)

I love you. I will kill for you.

He isn’t joking. He knows everything about you. All the meticulous details no one knows but your family. Whenever you receive a message from him, your heart would pound against your rib cage. It terrifies you to the core that he exactly knows the precise details of your whereabouts.

You immediately reported this matter to the police, to your parents but it didn’t settle the problem. The number isn’t traceable. They keep on insisting that the number used is from an unregistered sim. You fear for your life, your personal space, everything.

You weren’t just experiencing the never ending terror of your stalker’s messages. But some of your things are now starting to disappear, from your bracelets, your baby pictures now, now, your white lacy underwear.

You are blissfully unaware of the pair of eyes that follows every movement as you exit the school grounds. He looks down on his hand, gripping his favorite underwear of you. He had a picture when you wore the garment, and it was his favorite among all.

He makes his way to his heavily tinted car, a smile never leaving Suna's face as he clutches the garment tightly on his hands. His soulless eyes stared back at him the moment he stared at the rear view mirror. And drives to the nearest convenience store.

He keeps on fantasizing about you. The way your name rolls out of his tongue while jerking out never fails to send himself to ecstasy. He can’t wait to meet you, but one thing he is sure of, he will be watching you tonight.

Suna is always a step ahead of his plans. He is meticulous and calculative. His plans never backfire for he knew what methods to use. For the days he has been killing he already knows how to get rid of evidence that could lead to him. The boy’s got a sharp tongue as well, a serpent’s, he uses lies to cover up the real Suna that hides behind the charming facade he puts front.

He wore black. Black that is a mystery. Eerie. He wears a black bucket hat that covers his beautiful features that compliments his youth. Despite the dusk ebbing its way, his moles are always as alive as the constellation. He secures his mask tighter on both ears, as appealing as it sounds, he cannot show his face to you, just not yet. He had a thing to do, he had something to accomplish.

“Just in time” he breathed into the shadows. His eyes follow your figure marching down the dim lit streets. A smirk paints his lips as you still try to swat everything and thinking to yourself everything is still normal. But no, not until he is dead. He could have easily needle out your background from Kita but you were his and it gives him satisfaction whenever he discovers something about you. Things that aren’t open for others but just for him.

He immediately hid behind a large tree, once you entered your home. He makes sure to secure a great and measurable distance from him to you, not so far yet so near. He clenches his fist, the idea of watching you undress from your windows sends him a big wave of pleasure.

He begins to scramble up trying to get a hold of the strongest branch his forearm could manage. Some twigs tried to interrupt him midway but nothing can stop a hungry predator from lurking on his prey. He finds the perfect spot just parallel to your window.

“Fuck” he hiss as he felt his phone vibrate from his pocket. “What it is now fucking Atsumu?”

“Lover boy, I forgot to place your camera in your bag, bye.”

The camera is not his top most concern. He has his phone that is full of you.

You were humming quietly. He follows your hands, removing your school blouse that left the boy’s mouth agape. His cock immediately hardens at the sight, and he cannot risk himself to jerk while on the tree. He scrambles immediately, carelessly fishing out for his phone to take a picture of you naked.

Suna is always not satisfied with the bare minimum. He records you, doing your private thing in your room. He is biting hard on his lips, his erection sticking out painfully against his pants. He has to endure much longer till you have finished your routine applying lotion to your shiny long legs. Those legs that he can’t wait to touch.

Suna left the place shortly. He’s astounded. You drive him wild and wild he is. You fuel the monster more.

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voltagesmutter · 4 years

Text

Dummy

Summer Of Smut Writing Challenge,

Prompt #10: 2 wet bodies and only 1 towel

Pairing: Victor x MC

Word Count: 3000+

@voltage-vixen

*References to Victors rooftop date and Doomsday date*

“Will you just turn around, please!” You pouted, clutching the towel around you tightly, waiting for your CEO to avert his gaze from you.

“I’m about to see you anyway, what is the difference?” He shot you that, ‘how dumb are you’ look, as he rested against the side of the hot-tub.

“But there will be water, so you won’t see me,” You protested, cheeks flushing red slightly. He shook his head and closed his eyes, ‘dummy’, falling from his lips as he did so. Dropping the towel and leaving it on the side along with your oversized tote bag, you let yourself emerge into the hot-springs below you. Letting out a soft sigh, leaning back as the water rose to glimmer just below your breasts covered by the slightly-more revealing than planned bikini.

“Okay, I’m good, thank you,” You sighed, rolling your head back slightly, missing the quick glaze from Victor’s eyes as he moved his eyes back to you.

Victor had whisked you away for a weekend to a spa-resort, claiming it was for your best health interests as you quote ‘Looked awful’. Nothing like a confidence boost from Mr.Li. Although you couldn’t deny, you were in need of a good break, taking on more contracts than ever before had you working late every night. It didn’t help either you currently had three men pursuing after you: Kiro always wanted to go explore new food festivals, Gavin wanted to take you out on missions and undercover stakeouts so he could keep an eye on you and Lucien took you out on spontaneous day trips for ‘research’. Whilst the company was beyond excellent, it was also tiring.

Days rolled into each other, you didn’t even know the last time you had a decent night's sleep, so when Victor’s comment about your tiredness came out in a 1-1 meeting you burst into tears. Never had you seen him look so flustered and uncomfortable as you sobbed across his desk, freeze on his face at the fact he had upset you.

“It’s fine, I’m fine,” You sobbed, taking a tissue from the box he held out to you.

“Look I-” He mumbled.

“I’m just tired, exhausted really,” You wiped the tears away, eyes stinging as your mascara mixed with your tears, blobs of black ran forming under your eyes.

“If your workload is too much I can-” He once again started but you quickly cut him off.

“No, no, it’s fine,” You shook your head and gave him a reassuring smile, reaching into your bag to pull out your compact mirror and wiping the mascara stained tears away. The dark bags became even visible, the tears had wiped away the thick concealer to try hide them but no use, “But thank you anyway,”. He watched you for a moment, he could see your skin looked more pale than usual, a slight breakout in your skin that you had tried to cover with makeup. You did in a sense ‘look awful’ but to Victor you looked just as beautiful as ever.

“Go home, rest and come back in two day’s, I’ll reschedule this meeting for then,” He raised his hand so you would miss the faintest smile on his lips as you simply nodded in response, too tired to get into a heated debate like normal.

By the time you got home, Victor had already booked a couple of nights at the spa for you both, a deeming reward for all your hard work. It made your heart soar knowing you would be spending more time alone with him, he always kept up his cold-attitude at work but the moments you spent alone, getting to see the other side of him were the moments you truly treasured. You spent the next day and half mainly asleep, the odd text here and there from the others, keeping yourself occupied with rest. A few messages from Victor here and there as well, checking you was actually resting and not off galavanting on adventures.

The following week Victor sent you a list of items needed for your visit, you had everything but swim-wear. Not having time to go shopping you had to buy online, only when the black bikini came the size was definitely not suitable for someone with breasts. It fitted well, a little too well, boosting your cleavage which you was already blessed with. But there was no time to return it and exchange for a bigger size, you would be leaving with Victor in two days time. The night before you left Victor insisted you stay over at his house, ‘Can’t be running late because someone woke up late’. You exchanged pleasantries over a bottle of wine in his cellar, something different about Victor's attitude made you feel more at ease, already feeling relaxed before you got to the spa. The road trip was long, mainly because Victor wouldn’t let you put on your own music, instead driving in mostly silence before you fell asleep against the window.

“Hey, we’re here, wake up,” A soft voice followed by a gentle nudge at your arm, Victor waking you up.

“Hmm? Oh sorry I must have fallen asleep,” You yawned, rubbing your eyes.

“It’s fine, I’ll get the bags just wake up okay,” You swear he smiled but it might have just been your eyes playing tricks. You watched as he exited the car, going into the boot, a sigh of ‘Was a suitcase really necessary,’ as he pulled out the bags. Following his lead into the tranquil serenity, calm and peace flooded your body as you walked to the front-desk, the strong scent of lavender flooding your nose.

“I’m sorry Mr.Li book it appears there's been a mix up, the confirmation is for only one room and we’re fully booked,” The receptionist bowed her head as she avoided eye-contact from the stern man beside you.

“Victor it’s fine,” You smiled, placing a hand on his bicep and cutting in before he could say anything, “Thank you”. He shakes his head mumbling as you take the key card, pulling him along with you to the elevator. Your jaw almost dropped as you entered the room, it was lavished with luxury from the most intricate of details, gold marbling running across the walls and floor. Glassed french doors led to a private balcony and decking, a hot-tub resting in the middle. You dropped your suitcase and ran like a squealing child to flop on the bed, not noticing Victor's smile at your childish actions, letting yourself float on what felt like a mattress of clouds.

“Are you always this excitable?” He scoffed, examining the room.

“Only when it’s something as good as this! I think it’s bigger than my apartment,” You sigh with content, gripping the sheets below and letting the satin slip through your fingers.

“I’m going to unpack, are you going to or are you just going to live out your suitcase for the next few days?” He asks, lifting his designer bag onto the sofa.

“I’ll do it later, I’m gonna take a nap, wake me when you're done,” You yawned, rolling over and letting the wave of slightly tiredness take over you. You heard Victor tutting at your actions but left you alone in peace.

You awoke from your slumber feeling fresh and revitalised, turning to check your phone to see it had only been half an hour, leaving plenty of time to enjoy the rest of the day. Glancing around you saw Victor was not in the room but the balcony door was open, pulling yourself up you went to investigate but stopped dead in tracks at the sound of Victor’s voice outside.

“How's everything going in France?”. Who was he talking to, he had to be on the phone due to the lack of response.

“I miss you…”. His words almost stop your heart, a twang of pain deep inside your chest as the softness of his voice. The three words traveling a distance halfway across the world to another, spoken from one lover to another. Victor was extremely personal, so it shouldn’t come as a shock he has a secret girlfriend, why would you, an employee, need to know that. But it still hurt, the tightness in your chest grew, you had hoped it would be you in Victor's heart not another, as he was held so closely in yours. You couldn’t stop your mind from wandering who was the recipient of his message, maybe it was Chik, after all he made most sense; the wealthy businessman and the beloved actress, they definitely in the eyes of the media, but you knew how much Victor despised the woman. Maybe it was front to protect their relationship? That he would put up an act in front of everyone to then let his guard down when they was alone, whispering sweet words of love to her, words you ached to hear from him. Would his cold-stern drop? Would give her that smile he did when he found something amusing, the smile he tried to hide from everyone but you often caught it? Would he hold her tight, like you imagine him doing to you, giving her sweet kisses before things quickly became heated? Letting her run her fingernails down his toned torso, unbuckling his belt, tracing his v-lines before meeting his…

“Why are you gawping, you’ll catch flies,” His voice pulled you out of your dirty thoughts, shaking his head as he watched your blushing face as he came in from outside.

“N-Nothing!” You flustered, wafting a hand as you moved across the room to where your suitcase stood. How would his girlfriend feel about sharing a room with you? Did she know you were here with him? Was that why he was on the phone to her? You had so many questions, but the hurt-wrenching pain in your stomach stopped you from prying. The weak smile you gave spoke a thousand words, pain clenched from replaying his words.

Oh Victor Li, what have you done to me…

You felt yourself being pulled back from your train of thoughts as the gentle waves crashed against your skin, Victor moving closer towards you as he scooted against the seat.

“Hello? Are you even listening?” His concerned voice, knocked you out of your slight moment.

“Hm? Oh yes sorry,” You responded with no idea what he was on about, ‘I miss you’ still looping in your mind. There was a slight silence, the heat intoxicating your body as your eyes trailed down to his chest, glistening abdomen lay beneath the bubbling water. Being here with him, in such close proximity, it felt almost... wrong. His girlfriend/lover waiting in France and yet here he was with you, taking you away and sharing a room with you, you felt sorry for who-ever had captured his heart, the worry and sadness becoming clear on your face.

“What's wrong?” He asked you, your eyes averting his gaze. It took a few seconds of silence for you to finally muster up your words.

“I heard you on the phone earlier…”.

“What did you hear?”.

“Just a few simple sentences. I won't blab to anyone…” You voice trails off, look up to see Victor moving closer until his knee is touching yours, the skin on skin contact makes your breath hitch a little. He continues in silence, watching his adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “Why don't you go visit her if you miss her so much? As long as the two of you are in love, nothing can get in the way of that,” Not even me… The words twist like a piercing dagger into your heart, the hurt you felt was almost mirrored identically on Victor's face, the hurt in his deep purple eyes. He brings a arm up and presses it above your shoulder, you leaning back as he brings his face close to yours, the lingering smell of pine wood and leather intoxicates you.

“You talk too much,”.

His eyes flickers across yours, down to your lips and back up to meet your gaze before pulling away and standing up. The sunlight glistening off his chest, water droplets running over each defined line before falling back into the water, your breath stuck in your throat.

“Where did I?” He muttered, looking around picking up your tote back and checking around. You stood up, reaching over and grabbing your towel, wrapping is around your waist as you stepped out, Victor still muttering. The realisation he left his towel inside the room, even though it was only the other side of your private decking, he would walk dripping water all into the room.

“Pft! Who’s the dummy now,” You can’t help but tease, your laughter breaking the silence as you watch his cheeks graze over with a slightly tint of red. But before he can you give a snappy comment back, you unwrap the towel and hold it out to him, “Here,”.

“Dry yourself first, I’ll borrow it after,” He signs, stepping out on to the decking beside you.

“But it will be all wet!” You protested, stepping forward and wrapping the towel around his shoulders.

“Here just....” He takes the towel and uses it to begin rubbing your arms, “Stand still stop squirming,”.

“You're tickling me!” You squealed as his hands moved to your waist, gently rubbing the towel around your midsection, heat rising in your cheeks from his touch.

“The phone call was to my mother,” His face focusing on yours as you looked up to meet his gaze, heart pounding slightly. You take the towel from his hands, bringing it up to brush against his chest, your hands guiding the fluffy material over him.

“You tried to encourage me when you thought I was courting another woman” The seriousness in his voice raising but spoken in a gentle tone, his face closing the distance between you.

“When will you finally get it?” Even though asked a question, it was a statement, a statement followed by his lips meeting yours, the softness of them brushing against you.

“I wouldn't go near another woman” The warmth of his large hand came to your hold waist, pulling you flushed against his chest, the towel you was holding dropping to the floor.

“All I want is you…” Lips meeting once more in a fierce passion, his tongue grazing your lower lip in a beg for entry you so eagerly granted, the flat on your palms pressing against his torso. Heat pulsing through you in waves as his tongue coaxed over yours, striking bold movements, pelvis grinding against you with a need. Your arms moved up to wrap around his neck, angling the kiss deep as you pulled him down closer to you, his hands trailing down your lower back, over your behind and rested on the back of your thighs before effortlessly picking you up. Legs instantly wrap around his waist as he carries you indoors, lips never breaking apart as your tongue wrestles against his dominant one. The flex of his muscles ripple against your hand as you trace your fingers down him, fingertips toying on the edge of his trunks, the arousal pooling between your legs at the clear desire waiting for you beneath the material.

A rain of kisses cascade down your neck, the flat of his tongue lapping at your racing pulse, the enticing moans falling from you. The sheer strength as he kept you tight in his arms, his knees almost buckling as you dipped a hand below, fingertips grazing over his hardened arousal. The iridescent change of his eyes as he tilted his head to bring his lips back to yours as you wrapped a hand around him, stroking the impeccable sized length with a steady movement. Fingers run up your exposed skin to make short haste of your bikini top, throwing it to the floor as he cups your breasts, applying the same pressure as your hand over his cock. Your free hand drops down from his neck to undo the tie of his trunks, letting them drop as you gaze down, eye-watering slightly as you witness the full length and thickness being stroked by your dainty hand.

Hands twisting in the sheets below you, back arching off the bed as the delicate whimpers all from your mouth, ‘Victor’ rolling off your tongue like it the only word you knew. His face buried between your trembling thighs, holding them apart in an effortless manner as the flat of his tongue ran against your slit. The mouth that spewed words of business, that closed million dollar investments now devoured you, ravishing you as if you were the last meal of earth. Each flicker of his tongue against your clit brought you closer to the experience of ecstasy, fingers thrusting in and out until you trembled beneath him, pure bliss on your face as your essence runs down his knuckles and wrist.

“Ngh!” The desirable moan floods his ears as he watches you lower yourself onto his length, the thickness stretching your walls in pleasurable sensation, each inch causing your muscles to squeeze tight over him until he’s fully hilted inside you. Gentle rocking of hips, hands caressing every inch of your body from your thighs, your behind, your waist and breasts, a slow burning of your ignited passion. Gradual intensity of the pace quickens, breathless moans as your rocking movements are met with rolling thrusts from below, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your muscles begin to spasm around him. The cry of his name is heavy from your lips, walls tightening as you reach your peak, brimming tears from your eyes begin to fall down your cheeks. Holding your trembling body Victor rolls you over so you lay beneath him, rolling his hips continuously as he helps you ride down the waves of intense pleasure, tender kisses pressed to your lips. Hands held under your thighs as he sat back on his heels, allowing for a deeper penetration as his thrusts pick up to a faster pace before he reaches his own release. Abs tightening as he throbbed, head slick with sweat thrown back as he pulled out, spilling against your thighs with your name hot on his lips.

Collapsing down to rest his forehead against yours, exhaustion getting the better half of both you as your heavy breaths mixed together, the thudding sound of separate heartbeats becoming one in rhythm.

---

“You wanted to see me Mr.Li?” You waltzed into his office, keeping the business facade until Goldman left the room, leaving you alone. He hums in response as you giddily run around his desk and sit in his lap, arms welcoming you to a tight embrace as he holds you close to him.

“It’s your analysis over the new project,” His voice stern but his actions reflect otherwise, his thumb stroking softly over yours.

“Is it bad?” You feel your heart racing as his breath is hot against your neck.

“No actually, it’s good, I just wanted to say good girl,” His words touched with a slight hint of laughter, “I guess all you needed was a relaxing trip for your work to become much more adequate”.

“You!” You laugh, turning to playfully push your palms against his chest, his hands coming up to wrap around your wrists as you share a loving gaze. The calculated coldness of his mauve eyes brushed over with a gauge of willingness, a vulnerableness that dove straight to his heart, only for you to witness.

“Dummy,” His voice so soft it could freeze time, pressing a eutrophic kiss to your lips, time slowing around you as he held you close.

Enjoy my work, visit my masterlist here.

#summer of smut #summer of smut writing challenge #mlqc #mlqc victor #mr love victor #mr love queens choice victor #victor smut #mlqc smut #mr love li zeyan #mlqc li zeyan #mr love queen's choice #mr love mobile

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bakuthedeku · 3 years

Text

Constant Competition

Words: 1,000

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

“The obstacle course today was fun, wasn’t it?”

“Was good. I’m better th‘n you, though,” Katsuki doesn’t bother lifting his head to speak clearly.

“Are not. I bet I did the course faster than you,” Deku says and shifts about, wrapping both arms more securely around Katsuki’s waist. Katsuki hums appreciatively.

“Nuh-uh. Sensei timed it.”

“But did you check the time?”

“...Doesn’t matter.”

In which Katsuki and Deku are competitive idiots in love.

Read on AO3 or see the fic below !

The sun burns Katsuki’s back as he sits on the grass, head pounding with the shouts and action around him. He pours the now lukewarm water from his bottle over his face and swallows down the dregs, parched beyond reason and overheated to the point he—literally—might combust.

In front of him, half of his class is taking their turn on the training course, burning their palms on scalding concrete obstacles and screaming at each other as they all vie for first place. Naturally, Katsuki had won the course in the first heat, and now takes his rest as the second half of his class race against one another.

Deku is part of the second group, running ahead of the pack. He flits through each obstacle with ease and agility, battling it out with Momo and Hanta for first.

“Come on, Deku, don’t let ‘em catch up!” Katsuki calls, half encouraging and half goading.

Deku doesn’t spare Katsuki a glance, but he does flip him off as he goes by. Katsuki laughs to himself; he loves when the little shit shows his backbone.

The cheers around them reach a crescendo when Deku reaches the final obstacle, gaining distance on Hanta and beginning the task before Momo. The rules for the last obstacle are different from the others on the course; it’s a rock-wall everyone must climb to reach the finish line, and there’s no quirk use allowed.

For Momo and Hanta, who dominated the course through their quirks, this climb will be a struggle.

But for Deku? The strong little shit-nerd Katsuki calls a boyfriend? His win is already secured.

Deku all but flies up the wall, thickly muscled arms flexing beautifully as he climbs. At the top, he crosses the finish line many long seconds before anyone else. He promptly keels over, sweaty and out of breath.

When Deku finally gets back up to his feet, he twists around until he spots Katsuki and grins, raising his arms in the air in victory. Katsuki rolls his eyes and waits for his favourite idiot to make his way down from the course.

“I wooon!” Deku calls, wiggling about in a stupidly cute little victory dance.

“I noticed, nerd,” Katsuki scoffs, but his gruff voice does nothing to hide the dopey smile that stretches his lips. He gives up the charade with a sigh. “Good job.”

“Thank you!” Deku runs to close the distance and throws his arms around Katsuki’s shoulders, hugging him tight.

Katsuki makes a disgusted noise and peels his sweaty boyfriend off him. “You aren’t touching me again until you’ve showered.”

“But cuddles,” Deku pouts, and Katsuki would pinch his round cheeks if they weren’t surrounded by classmates.

“Hygiene,” Katsuki says firmly.

Deku groans, but complies. They head to the showers, and Katsuki knows exactly where his boyfriend’s mind has gone. When he strips and makes his way to his ahower, he speaks before Deku can give him that look of his: “Sweaty showers aren’t sexy, nerd. Go get clean!”

“You’re no fun,” Deku says, unsurprised, and walks to his own, separate, shower.

“I’m not getting us expelled,” Katsuki calls across stalls.

Deku grumbles incoherently in response, but lets Katsuki shower in peace.

Afterwards, they wind up in Deku’s nerd-room, cuddling on his nerd-bed. Deku’s hair is dripping onto his pillow, and Katsuki is busy pretending he isn’t being watched by hundreds of unseeing All Might eyes or lying on All Might-themed bedsheets.

Instead of commenting once again on the weirdness of his boyfriend’s room decoration, Katsuki rests his tired body on top of Deku, relaxing in the quiet of the room. Moments like this are few and far between, nowadays.

So of course, Deku has to break the silence. “The obstacle course today was fun, wasn’t it?”

Katsuki grunts his agreement, smooshing his face into Deku’s chest. He’s wearing one of Katsuki’s t-shirts, an old one he stole months ago. It smells like he’s washed it recently, and Katsuki is pleasantly surprised to notice the pretty scent of Deku’s shampoo. He might compliment the nerd for practicing basic hygiene for once.

“Words, Kacchannn,” Deku teases.

Or not. “Was good. I’m better th‘n you, though,” Katsuki doesn’t bother lifting his head to speak clearly.

“Are not. I bet I did the course faster than you,” Deku says and shifts about, wrapping both arms more securely around Katsuki’s waist. Katsuki hums appreciatively.

“Nuh-uh. Sensei timed it.”

“But did you check the time?”

“...Doesn’t matter.”

Deku pauses, and Katsuki glances up to see him pouting. “We can certainly check later, right? It will prove I beat you.”

Katsuki pokes at his stupid, soft cheek. “It’ll prove I beat you.”

With a whine and a pathetic little wiggle, Deku shakes his head. “Will not.”

“Will too.”

“Will not.”

“Will too.” Katsuki squeezes Deku tight, smiling into his chest to hide it from his boyfriend.

Deku laughs, rocking Katsuki on his chest with it. The sweet sound seeps into Katsuki, building up bubbly and golden in him until he can’t stop himself from joining in.

“Such a sore loser, Kacchan,” Deku says when they calm down, pressing a quick kiss into Katsuki’s hair.

Katsuki tuts. “The only loser here is you, dumbass,” he jabs Deku in the side.

Pinch. Deku blinks innocently when Katsuki looks up to glare at him. “Bastard.”

A sweet, secretly cocky smile is the last straw for Katsuki, and then the pair are wrestling on the bed, rough in the way hero students are in spite of pulling their punches.

Deku manages to get on top and straddle Katsuki, but Katsuki bucks him off before the little bastard can get the pin. Grunts and giggles fill the air, Katsuki flips them back over and struggles to keep Deku’s legs pinned to the bed-

And suddenly they’re on the floor, wheezing breathless laughter and curled up together.

“I think that counts as a tie,” Deku pants, and gives him a brilliant, dopey grin.

“Tie it is,” Katsuki concedes.

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itisannak · 4 years

Text

Cold Tea (Calum Hood Smut)

Summary: (Y/N) is stressed about an assignment, so Calum brings her favorite beverage ( and snack 😉) (Smut / Fingering/ Mention of public sex/ Mention of unprotected sex) Inspired by @trulycevans story “Stressed” (loved the story, by the way. Go check it out, it is so fluffy) (Words: 1.9k)

The only sound echoing in the room has to be my fingers tapping on my laptop's keyboard and the clock ticking on the wall. It has been like that for the past 3 hours, since I came back from my little "break" to fill my coffee cup. My eyes are heavy from working in front of a screen for so many hours, so I blink rapidly, trying to give them a quick rest before continuing; god, I wish I knew how to touch-type, so I didn't have to look at the screen. "Everything going a-ok, bub?" Calum asks as he peaks through the door. I turn my head to look at him, my face grumpy and lips pouty while he is smiling softly at me. He walks in, clad in his comfy sweats and a black tank top, holding a cup with steaming liquid inside. "Did you bring me coffee?" I ask, perking up a little as I can practically feel the taste of fresh coffee in my mouth. "Something better. Herbal tea." He cheers in excitement, leaning down to leave a kiss in the curve between my neck and shoulder while he places the mug in front of me. "Herbal tea?" I ask repulsed. There is soft tapping on the floor, so I assume that Duke decided to follow his pop in the room. "You need to relax a bit. You are overly caffeinated so your brain is stuck. Herbal tea will make you feel more productive." He explains, resting his chin on my shoulder. "You are smart for a total hottie..." I mumble, rolling my eyes as I pick up the mug to take a sip, blowing on the surface of the tea before it touches my lips. "How is it going?" He asks me, planting a kiss on my jawline. "It is not going." I announce, sighing in despair. Calum moves my hair on one shoulder, bringing his arms to wrap around me. "Maybe it is time for a break. Stretch a bit, fix your posture, tie your hair up. Maybe cuddle Duke a bit, he is like a fluffy stress-ball." He suggests, using his soothing voice. "I am so tensed..." I groan, causing Calum to bring his hands on my shoulders, kneading on my skin as I relax back on my chair. He moves upwards, focusing now on my neck.

"You have a knot in there." He comments, pressing his thumbs on it. "I know. It has been killing me for hours now." I pout, moving my head from side to side. I feel chills rising on my skin as he brings his thumbs all the way up to the base of my head. A moan escapes my lips, which amuses Calum. "And to think I am not even touching you in that way..." He teases me, pressing a kiss on my forehead. "Hush, asshole. I am sore." I giggle, feeling ticklish as his hands travel low on my back. "Mmm, there..." I gasp as he finds the spot on the dip of my back. I arch my back and throw my head back; fuck, he has magical fingers, in every possible way. "Have I told you your tits look great?" He asks, making me bite my bottom lip. "You have... Stop starring at my tits, you creep." I huff. "Not my fault you have the prettiest tits I have seen..." He replies. "Get up and have a stretch. You'll feel a thousand times better." He pats my back, rolling my chair away from the desk to let me get up from it.

Calum leans against the desk as I bend to touch my toes, making my spine pop. I arch my back, trying to crack my back. Calum clears his throat, making me turn my head to him. "Everything alright?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow at him. "Why do you look so sexy, even when you are so tired?" He asks, grabbing me by my waist and pulling me close to his body. "Cal, I stink. My eyes are decorated with eye bags, and my face is dull, my hair is messy and I am wearing leggings. Where is the sexy in that?" I ask him, and he hums, throwing me a side smirk. "Well, everything on you." He lingers above my lips, making me squirm at the intensity of the moment. He has the ability to turn every moment intimate. "You make me so hard, princess. Just looking at you makes me feel funny inside... Fuck... How did I ever get so lucky?" He asks, groaning softly. "You must have done something very nice in your life to end up with me." I giggle, resting my palms on his chest. "I have a way to get your mind to relax..." He licks his lips, lowering his hand to my ass. "I am curious to find what that might be..." I giggle, just as he squeezes my ass in his hands.

He turns me around, pressing his chest on my back as he assaults my neck with his lips. He is an expert at finding my sweetspots, and once he locates the one below my ear he starts nibbling on it with his teeth. I moan and blink rapidly, sinking in the sensation. "Feels good, baby?" He asks, flicking his tongue over the teeth marks on my neck. "So good..." I utter, while his hands slip in the waistband of my leggings, resting on my hips. I feel his boner pressing on my ass, my eyes shutting involuntarily as my mind flies to the dirtiest of thoughts. "I am going to fuck that writing block out of that pretty head of yours." He rasps, forcing me to bend over the desk. I gasp, smiling as I feel him lower my leggings. He leaves my panties in place, pushing his fingers inside them with a chuckle. "You got wet from my massage, princess?" He muses, sounding a little proud of his achievement. "You got hard from massaging me... Don't be cocky." I sass, a millisecond before he pushes two fingers inside me.

I have to bite my bottom lip to avoid giving him the satisfaction of assuring him how much I love his fingers banging inside my tight little hole. "Fuck me... You are tight, baby. Why are you so tight? I have been fucking you every day for nearly 2 years and you are still so tight..." He rasps, wrapping his arm across my chest and pulling me up, with my back against his chest. His hand wraps around my neck, fingers pressing roughly on my skin. His fingerpads are brushing against my spot, while his lips are now pressed on my temple. "Once you are done with this stupid assignment, I will pick you up and drag you to the shower. And then I am going to press you against the glass and fuck your pretty little hole until the glass shutters and our skin is wrinkly from the water. Maybe I will even set up a camera in front of the cabin, so you can take a look at how hot your tits look pressed against the glass like that..." He whispers in my ear, causing chills to run up my spine. "Remember the time we were on vacation? On that island, I don't remember the name of, somewhere in Italy? Remember we were on that beach, alone, and we had this ice bucket for our drinks? Hm, princess? Do you remember?" He asks me, taking my earlobe between his teeth. I nod my head, my eyes fluttering open and close as he moves his long digits inside me. "Remember what I did to you that day on the beach?" He asks me. I whimper, making Calum chuckle. "It's ok, princess. I'll remind you... I put 2 ice cubes inside you and every time the melting water spilled out of your hole and drenched your bikini, reaching your clit, you whimpered and jerked up... Oh, those cute little whimpers drove me insane... I was so hard for you that day... We fucked behind those rocks, and you were a moaning mess, we almost got caught... But you said it was the best orgasm of your life... Oh, I missed that... I want to take you back to that island in Italy, give you an even better orgasm..." He rasps; his breath sounds as caught up in his throat as mine. "I want to go back to Italy too... Please, take me there." I beg; I am not sure if by there I mean the island or my orgasm. "Or that time backstage of that concert in New York... 5 minutes before the show and you were riding my face... I could taste you in my mouth while I sang... There are so many pictures of me licking my lips during the show... Fuck, if people knew..." He murmurs, tightening the grip around my neck. "You know what we haven't done in a while?" He asks, the smirk that makes his lips curl showing in his voice. "What?" I ask, pressing my thighs together as I feel the knot in my stomach tighten. "I haven't rawed you in the backseat of my car in so long... I believe the last time was during our last road trip. We had a stop because you wanted to take pictures and it started raining. You were wearing that white t-shirt that got drenched and I could see your bra right through it. My fucking God, you were so hot. You stripped out of that t-shirt and stayed in that pink bra of yours... I couldn't keep my hands to myself. I filed you up with so much cum that day... I can't wait until we can hop in the car again. Definitely this weekend, we can go to the vineyard by that lake you like." He whispers. I tremble, his fingers inside, and all those dirty memories playing in my head leave me helpless against the orgasm bubbling up inside me. "I am going to cum." My voice breaks at the end, signaling my high is closer than I anticipated. "Yeah, baby? I couldn't tell by your pulsing pussy and your wetness running down my hand..." He mocks me. He pumps his fingers faster, making me arch my back and rest my head against his shoulder as I ride my high. "There it is..." Calum praises as I stir my hips to get more of that sensation of pure euphoria. It takes me at least five minutes before I am ready to go back to functioning. Calum takes his fingers out of my panties and I try to fix my clothes, with my hands still shaking.

"Is your head a little clearer?" Calum asks, with a grin playing on his lips. "I don't know. You will actually have to leave the room for me to be able to focus on anything else but the boner in your sweats..." I reply, taking a seat back in front of the desk again. "Alright... I'll go fix us a light dinner. I will see you in an hour when you will close your laptop for the night and join me and baby grandpa over there on the couch. And I promise, tomorrow I will wake you up bright and early so you can finish this." He pecks on my temple, making me sigh in defeat. "Fine, Hood. Maybe you are right..." I roll my eyes, before reaching for my mug of tea. I take a sip, only to wince at the taste of the tea. "Fuck... Now my tea is cold..." I pout, making Calum laugh. "Well, you can't have it all, baby..." He points out as he walks out of the room, followed by Duke.

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years

Text

Ineffable Holiday 2020 - “A Bet’s a Bet” (Rated T)

Summary: Aziraphale and Crowley get caught up watching a man nearly break his neck trying to propose to the love of his life. Aziraphale thinks it's romantic. Crowley thinks it's rubbish.

But there could be a chance that Crowley is protesting a little too much. (1151 words)

Notes: Written for the Ineffable Holiday 2020 Day 1 Prompt 'Ice Skating'

Read on AO3.

“Lydia! Whoops! Sorry ma’am, I … Lydie! Whoa! Can I … can I talk to you a second? Oops! Oh no! Make way! Make way, mate! Sorry, but I can’t stop!”

From the center of the frozen pond, a bubbly brunette turns in shock to stare at the lanky man, careening wildly in half-circles, trying to get to her.

“Nigel?” She laughs nervously. “Wot in the living …?”

“Give me a mo here, will ya?” he pleads, attempting to skate straight but veering to the right. “I’ll be there in a jiff!”

Crowley cringes as he watches the stiff-legged man wrapped like a leftover in wool overcoat, wearing a crisp, blue button-down and jeans underneath, struggle to navigate the choppy sheet of ice in beat-up hockey skates held together by thick, gray tape. Knees wobbly and ankles bent at odd and painful angles, he carries a bouquet of flowers in one hand and a small black box in the other. Crowley puts eyes on it, knows what it is in an instant.

“Typical holiday grandstanding,” he huffs.

“And what’s wrong with that?” Aziraphale beams from the seat beside him on the frosted wood plank that’s usually one of their favorite park benches.

“Nothing. If you like that sort of thing. Tis the season, I suppose.”

“Grumble all you want, my dear. I find it romantic.”

“Right. ‘t’s going to be even more romantic when he lands on his face and busts his nose.”

Nigel does his best to skate-slash-walk, tripping three times in a row when a toddler, apparently poised to win future Olympic gold, crosses his path. Then again when another nimble figure skater twirls by.

Crowley tsks. “Hundred p says he flies backward, lands on his arse, and cracks his head wide open.”

“That’s awful!” Aziraphale scolds.

“Well? Is it a bet or not?”

“Why should I? I have no need for money.”

“How ‘bout dinner then?”

Aziraphale contemplates, bouncing his head back and forth, mildly guilt-ridden at the thought of wagering a meal against the chance that some poor schlub gets a concussion. But his rear is nearly frozen solid, and it is getting late. “Alright.”

“Fantastic!” Crowley crosses his arms and settles closer to his angel. “Wanna wager on whether or not she says yes, too?”

“Don’t push it.”

They watch as the man continues to inch his way across the ice almost entirely on his ankles now, the goofiest smile in the world plastered on his rapidly blushing face, risking life and limb to reach the wide-eyed object of his affections staring with mouth agape while her sister holds tight to her arm, giggling like crazy.

“Nige!”

Nigel hits a patch that’s more water than ice, and his left foot goes flying. He stumbles back, his arms windmilling wildly.

“Oh my God! Nige!” Lydia screams. “Stop! You’re going to kill yourself!”

“I need to talk to you!”

“Now!?”

“Yes! Right now!”

“Why?”

“Because (Whoa, shite!) when you figure out what it is you want for the rest of your life (Aaaah!), you want that life to start right away!”

“Awwww!” a gathering crowd of spectators sighs, but Crowley and Aziraphale both pull a similar face.

“Not very original, is it?” Crowley says.

“I’m afraid not. Quote from a movie, I think.”

“Yes. An American movie.”

“Tragic. But …” Aziraphale smiles “… it seems to be working nevertheless.”

And it is.

Nigel can’t skate to save his life, doesn’t look like he’s ever put on a pair. Lord knows where he got the ones he’s wearing. Out of the bin, Crowley thinks bitterly. On the other hand, Lydia and her sister had been skating expertly mere minutes before, obviously one of their passions - a passion Nigel doesn’t share. But Nigel perseveres.

He’s determined.

He takes a breather, debating getting on his hands and knees and crawling the rest of the way, his ankles throbbing. The small crowd of onlookers start cheering him on, yelling, “Go! Go! Go! Go!” as he repositions the flowers and the box and starts walking again.

“Lydia Montgomery!” he starts, out of breath and laughing at himself. At ninety percent of the way there, he decides to go for broke. “I love you! I love you more than I have ever loved anyone on this whole entire cesspool of a planet! I can’t … whoa! … I can’t imagine waking up another day without you by my side! Aaaah! My future looks bleak without you in it! I don’t want that! I don’t want bleak when I’ve had such a grande light in my life! Will you … will you marry me!?”

“Yes! Yes, I will!” Lydia breaks free from her sister and reaches Nigel seconds before his feet fly out from under him. It happens as if in slow motion - Nigel catching air and going horizontal before crashing to the ice on his tail bone. He manages to keep his head elevated and his offerings from being crushed beneath him, but the sound of his body impacting the ice is enough to make the audience exclaim, “Ooooo!” in unison.

But the pain (what there is of it) doesn’t seem to matter to Nigel as he embraces Lydia to an enthusiastic round of applause.

“So this is what we risked our lives saving Earth for?” Crowley grouses. “So these fools can risk their necks on stunts like this?”

“It’s called Free Will, my love,” Aziraphale says definitively.

"It's rubbish! Using a holiday as celebrated as Christmas to make this kind of show? Seems like cheating, if you ask me."

“She definitely won't forget it," Aziraphale says with a sigh. "You have to admit, it makes things more interesting. In the absence of more exciting things like knights and gladiators.”

“Hmm, the plague.”

“Besides, why should the stupidity of humans bother you? Doesn’t it make your job easier?”

“After you’ve stared down the literal Lord of Hell in defense of the planet, you start to wish they’d take more care.”

“True, true,” Aziraphale agrees with a nod. “Well, they’re off to live happily ever after. Now - didn’t you say something about dinner?”

“But he fell,” Crowley teases.

“Yes, but he didn’t crack his head open. That was the linchpin.”

“I can fix that,” Crowley mutters under his breath.

“By the way, did you do that? At the last minute? Just to win a wager?”

“Nah. Didn’t need to. Knew he was bound to fall. Besides …” Crowley turns to his angel and grins, sliding a hand over his own right trouser pocket - a pocket carrying a small velvet pouch. It's not a ring box, but he can't fit a box in the pockets of these pants. They'd better get a move on. Everyone they know will be waiting for them at The Ritz already. “When was the last time I tried to weasel out of a dinner date with you?”

#Ineffable Holiday 2020 #ineffable husbands #good omens #good omens fanfiction #crowley x aziraphale #aziraphale x crowley #aziraphale #Crowley

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