#// and the light sparkles wherever he moves or hits

[kaybug88]

ʚ♡ɞ・"WHAT'S UP DANGER?" 0.2・ʚ♡ɞ

One Week Later...

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"(Y/N) (L/N)! Turn that music down, please!" Your mother calls from downstairs. You know you're blaring music louder than you typically do, but to be fair, you still haven't received your letter and it's eating at very soul to an absurd level. You begrudgingly turn it down to an acceptable level as your mom yells a quick thanks. You're beyond  stressed. Sure, you absolutely kicked ass  in the exam, and you know  you'll get in, but what if it just... isn't enough? You shake away the negative thoughts while letting out a heavy sigh.

You're not even doing anything besides laying in bed while scrolling on social media. Letting out an annoyed groan and tossing your phone somewhere on the bed as your hands run through your hair, you glance to your window and see Gumi, a stray cat that lives near you pawing at the window from a small ledge you keep for the little guy. "Gumi, it's been a minute, bud." You mumble to yourself while getting out of your bed and stepping over to the window, a soft smile gracing your lips as he mews at you to pet him. You comply and begin to pet his black fur. He's really the cutest cat you think you've ever seen, and can't count the amount of times you've asked your mom to just adopt him already. Nor can you count the amount if times he's comforted you in your short time back in Japan.

Your smile grows as he lets out low purrs of happiness, his big yellow eyes closing while he meows at you again. "Does that feel nice? Hmm?"You ask the little black cat in a bit of a higher pitch voice as if that'll make him understand you. You chuckle to yourself while you turn your gaze to the moon. It's peeking out from behind a cloud almost as if it's shy, the moon's light makes the clouds seem translucent and the stars sparkling above the neighborhood only adds to the atmosphere.

"(Y/N)! (Y/N) (L/N)! Come downstairs, something came for you in the mail!" You hear your mom yell from downstairs. Now it could  be your acceptance letter into UA, or it might be something from your friends back in the US, who you still haven't heard from besides the occasional Instagram reel and text. "Sya, Gumi. I'll see you later, yeah?"  You tell the little black cat, pressing a soft kiss to his head before he bounds off to wherever he came from. Sighing, you close your window, walk to your door, and out into the hallway to see your eager mom basically jumping with joy.

"What?" You ask with a raised brow before you notice the UA symbol on the red stamp. "Okay, this definitely isn't from a friend."  You think to yourself before carefully taking it from your mom's hands. You feel your breath catch in your throat, because there's always the slight chance you don't pass, but you scored at least 50 points from absolutely wrecking those bots.

"Well, open it! I want to see if my baby got in!" Your mom squeals with excitement as you walk towards the living room. You roll your eyes with a smile at her excitement. "Oh forget the 'if', I absolutely got in. No doubt about it."  You correct cockily while she sighs from behind you. Upon sitting on the soft black couch, you tear open the white paper, and tip it upside down with a little disk falling from it. "What the fuck?" You mumble to yourself as you move the disk in front of you. "Language, young lady!" Your mom says with a small smack to your arm, her green eyes narrowing, and you roll your eyes in response. Now, the last thing you expect is to see the  All Might appear in a hologram from the small disk.

"Hello, I am here in the form of a projector! The truth is, I didn't just come to the city to fight crime, no! You're looking at the newest UA faculty member!" He booms, and by the time he's finished, music begins to play. "Isn't he, i don't know, a little old to be a pro hero and  a teacher?" You ask mostly to yourself, but your mom hears you, and hits your arm once more. "What?! He's like- 50!" You say, rubbing the spot where she hit you. "Be respectful! He's going to be your teacher!" She hisses before the hologram begins speaking once more.

"You successfully passed the written test with flying colors, and I'm also happy to inform you that you demolished the practical exam! However, not only did you do amazing in the combat portion, there were points for saving people! (Y/N) (L/N) You were given 57 combat points and 18 rescue points! You've passed the combat exam, welcome, (L/N), you're now part of the Hero Academia!" All Might goes on to say, leaving your mom in tears of joy, hugging your side and pressing kisses to your cheek. In all reality, you had no idea there would be rescue points, putting you in 2nd place- just below Katsuki Bakugo. "Holy Shit... Katsuki's going to UA? Pfft, of course he is, especially with a quirk like his."  You think to yourself all while your mom is congratulating you while hugging your side.

"Oh, my baby! You scored 2nd place! I'm so, so proud of you!" Your mom exclaims through tears, hell, even you're a little surprised that you got 2nd place. You lightly scoff, before putting the disk back into the envelope and taking it up to your room once you pried your mom off you.

ʚ♡ɞ Next morning...

"Are you sure you've got everything you need?" Your mom asks for the tenth time within like five minutes. "Yes, Ma, I'm all set, I promise. It's not like I'm traveling to another country all by myself, I'm going to a high-school with teachers and other students." You explain with a sigh while throwing your backpack on. You reach down to readjust your skirt and turn to see your mom holding back tears and covering her little sniffles. Her black hair in a messy bun rather than her usual braid.

"Ma..." You say with a small frown and turning around to make sure she's actually okay, despite her saying she is. "I'm just so, so proud of you, I can't put it into words. Be safe out there, alright? And if training to be a hero becomes too much, I wouldn't be angry at all." She asks says fanning her eyes with a sad laugh. "Yeah, Ma, I'll be safe, I promise. I love you." You say before reaching down to give her one last hug, you feel a small lump in your throat begin to form, and the last thing you want is to show up to the first day of school with makeup running down your face. You shake away her last comment as a last attempt to get you to stay home, and glance at your phone to check the time.

"Alright, I really have to go, I don't want to be late." You explain while pulling away from the hug while you get a knowing look from your mom. "We both know that you're just going to swing your way there." She chuckles, you shrug your shoulders with a smile on your lips before turning outside the door and into the sun shining down onto the sidewalk.

ʚ♡ɞ

"I'm going to be late if I don't hurry my ass up." You groan to yourself as you jog through the empty hallways of UA. "1-A, 1-A, c'mon, where are ya'?" You internally ask yourself until you finally find the class. "Why the hell are the doors so big?" You mumble to yourself, before you reach and open the grand door but before you do, you see a head of messy green hair come towards you, and you immediately recognize him as Izuku Midoriya, well, if your memory serves you right. It would be super awkward to be like 'Hey! Your name is Izuku Midoriya right? I went to the same day care as you before I moved away! My name is (Y/N) (L/N)! Been a while, hasn't it?'

"Hey... I think I recognize you from somewhere. Izuku Midoriya, right?"You ask as he gets closer. His face turns beet red and his hands wave in front of his face. "Yeah, name's Izuku Midoriya. It's nice to meet you, well, we probably already know each other since you know my name, even though I don't know your, or should I say remember your name. If we went to the same daycare, I'm surprised you remember me to be-" He goes on to say, his words spewing out faster than you can comprehend before realizing he's rambling and stops.

"Sorry, I tend to ramble a lot. Yeah, my name is Izuku Midoriya, do I know you?" He asks with a chuckle with his face coming down from the bright red it once was. You chuckle yourself, now here it comes. "Uhm, yeah, this is gonna sound super awkward, but uhm, we went to the same daycare together, my name is (Y/N) (L/N), I honestly doubt you remember me." You chuckle while talking pretty fast. "Uhm, we also used to live near each other, friends with a blonde boy with an explosion quirk." You add after clearing your throat.

"(Y/N) (L/N)? (Y/N) (L/N)... (Y/N)...Oh! You have a spider quirk, right? I think I do remember you! You moved to the US, right?" He asks as you begin to pull open the door for him. "Yeah! I do, I'm surprised you remember." You say with a laugh as you let him go inside first, and you're greeted with... "Just my fucking luck." You groan annoyedly when you see recognizable spikey blonde hair and crimson red eyes. "Take your feet off of that desk now!" A navy haired boy with glasses commands while waving his arms in a chopping motion. "Hah?" Bakugo asks with a smirk. He really wasn't the only one who had gotten a glow up, Izuku was still scrawny, just like we were when you were kids, but he had gotten cuter, though, you'd never admit it out loud. "It's the first day, and you're already disrespecting this academy by scuffing school property, you creeten!" The guy with glasses goes on to say making the same hand motions. Ah, you remember him now, he had been in the same arena in the entrance exams as you.

Izuku stands there with wide eyes while you stand to the side of him with the most annoyed look you've probably ever made before."You're kidding me, right? Your old school put a stick up your ass, or were you born with it?" Bakugo sarcastically asks rather loudly, he's always been a tad bit loud, hasn't he? "Let's start over. I'm Tenya Iida from the Soumei Academy." "Okay, so that's Iida." You think to yourself, but your thoughts get interrupted by Katsuki's loud arguing. "Soumei, huh? So you must think you're better than me, I'm going to have fun tearing you a new one!"

Bakugo challenges while getting closer to Iida. Iida lets out a gasp and puts his right hand on his chest. "You would threaten me? Your own classmate? Are you sure you're in the right place?" Iida asks, which earns a small giggle from you. Iida turns to look at the two of you. You bite your lip in an attempt to stop more giggles, but are rather confused when Iida stops.

"It's him." Iida says, and in sync, everyone turns their heads to look at him. You just sit there nodding slightly as Deku stutters. "Uhm, hi!" Deku says with blush as you stand leaning on the door frame. Iida comes walking towards the pair of you with his hands swaying in a similar way to a robot. "My name is Tenya Iida from the Sou-" He tries before Izuku cuts him off, "Yeah, I know, I'm Izuku Midoriya, it's super nice to meet you." Izuku greets. You bite back a small scoff at the way Iida's arms just kinda- stop at his sides

"And you are?" Iida asks with a raised brow while turning to you, hands unmoving. "Yo, I'm (Y/N) (L/N), nice to meet you." You say with a nod and throw up a small wave to him. "Midoriya, you realized there was something more to the practical exam, didn't you? You must be really perceptive, and I completely misjudged you. I admit, as a student, you're far superior to me." Iida rants on, with you trying your hardest to deny his claim, and with just your luck, a short brown haired girl comes up behind you two.

"Hey! I recognize you two! It's hard to forget the messed up hair, and the way you shot those webs to help him from the fall! That punch was amazing, and the way you�� shot webs super quickly! You formed that landing pad so quickly, it was hard to see what you were even doing!" She cheers while making all kinds of arm gestures. "So far I've met a goody-goody-two shoes who has a stick up his ass, Izuku, have yet to formally introduce myself to Katsuki, and the girl with a floating quirk who throws up rainbows and sparkles. Awesome class I've got here."  You think to yourself with an internal groan as you stand waiting to get into the classroom.

Izuku keeps stuttering to the girl, and you can't help but notice the glare Katsuki is giving the green haired boy. Whatever was going through his head, it was clearly not good. You raise a brow at him, which he only glares in your guys' direction harder. Had he been looking at you too? You're about to say something to Izuku, but a voice from the ground nearly makes you jump. "If you're here to make friends, you can pack up your stuff now." A man in a... yellow sleeping bag informs as he worms his way into the room as you and the other people crowding around the door move out of the way.

"Welcome to UA's hero course." He says tiredly while pulling out an apple sauce pack like a little toddler. You're honestly a little confused while he speaks. "Hello, I'm Shouta Aizawa, your teacher." Now that's not what you're expecting, not in the least. Your teacher? Seriously, he looks homeless, there's no way he's a teacher, let alone a pro. "Right, let's get to it, put these on and head outside." Your new teacher instructs your class while holding up what you can only assume to be your exercise uniforms.

ʚ♡ɞ

While everyone around you is chit-chatting about this surprise quirk assessment, you're trying to think of what this could do to affect your class. "But orientation! We're going to miss it!" Ochako says from in front of you, clearly worried about how this class is going to be run. "If you really want to make the big leagues, you can't waste time on pointless ceremonies. Here at UA, we're not tethered to traditions. That means I get to run my class however I see fit." He explains, getting small whispers to break out from students around you.

"You've been taking standardized tests most of your lives, but you've never gotten to use your quirks in physical tests before. The country is still trying to pretend that we're all created equal by not letting those with the most power excel, it's not rational. One day, the ministry of education will learn." The black haired man says before turning to Bakugo. "Bakugo you managed to get the most points on the entrance exam, what was your farthest distance thrown with a softball when you were in junior high?" Your teacher asks. You turn your gaze to Bakugo who's scowl has softened into a look of slight confusion.

"67 meters, I think" Bakugo informs with his facial expression turning back into his somehow irritated laid back expression. "Right, try doing it with your quirk. Anything goes, just stay in the circle." Aizawa explains while Katsuki cockily walks up to the throwing circle. He's stretching out his arms with his eyes narrowed. "Go on, you're wasting our time." Aizawa rushes as Katsuki puts one foot forward. "Alright man, you asked for it." He says with a scoff before getting into a throwing position. He throws the ball with a massive explosion. "DIE!" He yells as the ball is thrown somewhere into the sky. "Die, seriously?" You ask nobody in particular, but get an answer anyway "Is he psychotic?" A raven haired boy with big elbows asks, making you chuckle.

Everyone is shocked with jaws dropped, including you. Your lips are slightly parted with eyes widened slightly.  "All of you need to know your maximum capabilities, it's the most rational way of figuring out your potential as a pro hero." Your teacher explains explains while showing the class Bakugo's score of 705.2 meters. "Woah, 705 meters, are you kidding me?" A boy with bright yellow hair and a black lightning bolt going through his hair says with wide eyes. A pink girl not too far away from you claps her hands with an excited look on her face. "I wanna go! It looks like fun!" Her eyes are black with yellow pupils, she's got little yellow horns that stick out of her head as well, in all, she looks really pretty. Your attention is turned to the black haired guy with huge elbows speaking next. "This is what I'm talking about! Using our quirks as much as we want!" He exclaims excitedly.

"So this looks fun, huh? You have three years here to become a hero, you think this is all going to be games and play time? Idiots. Today you'll compete in eight physical tests to gauge your potential, whoever comes in last has none and will be expelled immediately." Aizawa challenges, earning gasps of shock from your classmates. "This is a bit harsh." You mumble to yourself as Aizawa gives probably the creepiest smile you've ever seen to the class, his gaze landing on Midoriya, now that's... odd. Come to think of it, you remember him being deemed as quirkless at daycare, so how in the world does he have a quirk, and why the hell haven't you questioned it until now?

"Like I said, I get to decide how this class runs, understand? If that's a problem, you can head home right now." Aizawa goes to challenge again. "You can't send one of us home! We just got here! Even if it wasn't the first day, that isn't fair!" Uraraka speaks up, little fists curled into tight balls. "And you think natural disasters are, or power hungry villains, or catastrophic events that wipe out whole cities? No, the world is full of unfairness, it's a hero's job to try and combat that unfairness. If you want to be a pro, you're going to have to push yourself to the brink. For the next three years, UA will throw one terrible hardship after another at you, so go beyond, plus ultra style." Aizawa goes on to say after Uraraka challenged him.

"Okay, there's no way I'm going to get expelled, with a quirk like mine, I should be able to pass every single portion."  You think cockily to yourself while flexing and stretching your arms and wrists. "Show me it's no mistake that you're here. Now then, we're wasting time just by talking, let the games begin." Aizawa says, finishing his rant with another creepy smile. You bounce off one foot and onto the other to warm yourself up.

ʚ♡ɞ

First event, 50 meter dash. You let out a small sigh, as you turn to face the black haired boy with bulky elbows. You flash a smirk to him and he smiles back. "If I beat you, let me take you out." He says as the robot starts the countdown. You turn to face in front of you as you chuckle. "Alright, if you beat me, it's a date." You say with a smile. When the robot says to go, you sprint and immediately shoot strings of webs at the end of the finish line. You notice in your peripheral vision that he's shooting... tape? Tape from his elbows. You smirk as you land at the end of the line faster than he does and walks off past the white line with a cocky smirk. He passes the finish line just two seconds after you, wearing a small look of surprise. "Too bad, I was looking forward to that date." You say with a small frown before your lips turn into a smile. You walk away hearing the robotic voice announce your timing "3.12 seconds!" It's safe to say his whole life's goal is to land a date with you now.

ʚ♡ɞ

Second event, grip strength. You shake out your wrists before you take the grip strength device. Closing your eyes you let out a huff. "C'mon, it's just grip strength, can't be too hard, yeah?" You ask yourself in your head before gripping as hard as you can. You unclench your fist and lift to see the device, 78kg. "Not too bad." You huff with a small smirk before passing it onto the next person, you see a really short guy with.. Purple hair, if you can even call it hair, next to the black haired guy you beat at the 50 meter dash. You see them celebrating an insane looking guy at what he got. He's super tall, probably like 190 centimeters tall, roughly 6'02 maybe? "Yo, what did you get?" You ask while walking up to them. "He's like a muscle-y octopus! He got 540 kilograms!" The short boy exclaims, looking up to you, his eyes are wide and you notice a small droplet of saliva leaking from his mouth as he looks at you, but he's not looking at you. He's absolutely looking at your boobs. Lovely. "Add perverted grape gremlin to the list of people I've met."  You tell yourself in your head with a sigh.

ʚ♡ɞ

Third event, standing long jump, you do the same thing as you did for the 50 meter dash, simply using your webs to shoot across the full thing, which, believe it or not, was allowed. You cleared the sandbox with insane ease and walked away with a smirk. You notice Izuku is up next and turn around to see how he does. He lands inside the box and gets up with a small scowl. "Midoriya, you alright?" You ask after he's out of the box and dusting himself off. He's rambling to himself about an egg in a microwave... odd. "Midoriya?" You ask again, catching his attention. "Oh, hey (L/N)! What did you say?" He chuckles while scratching the back of his neck. You wave your hands slightly before speaking. "Oh, no worries! I was asking if you were alright, you seem... How do I word it... A bit frustrated?" You say with a small, concerned smile. "Yeah, I'm fine," He says shortly, he opens his mouth to keep speaking but shuts it before anything comes out.

ʚ♡ɞ

All the other events go great, and you're in no doubt this one will go any other way; the ball throw. You've been saving Adrenaline Rush up until now, knowing that it could make you pass out, you thought it would be smart to save it for the end, plus, you get to show off your sick ability to everyone.

Uraraka gets infinity, which everyone is surprised about, Izuku looks in all honesty terrified, which you frown at. To the side, you hear Iida talking. "If Midoriya doesn't shape up soon, he's the one going home." He says to no one in particular, but the hothead next to him just has to reply. "Huh? Of course he is! He's a quirkless loser." He snaps at Iida, pointing at the scared boy in the throwing circle.

"Would you knock it off, dude? You're being an asshole." You tell Katsuki, walking up to him and Iida with a glare, you're sick of him being an absolute prick, and it's time someone tells him to knock it off. "Hah? What did you just call me? I'll blast you all the way to Hell and back, bug!" He yells at you with Iida desperately trying to calm the two of you down, Uraraka is off to the side next to Iida trying her hardest as well. "You won't do a thing, boom boom boy, and spiders are arachnids, dumbass. If you were smart enough, you'd know that." You hiss to him, getting closer to him. He's fuming now, his hands are fizzing and sparking with explosions. "What'd you say to me?" He barks, his hands shoving you. "You heard me, boom boom boy." You snarl with a harsh glare before walking a few paces away and turning your attention back to Izuku, who's gotten into a throwing position. "This isn't over, I'll squash you like the useless bug you are!" He snaps at you. You ignore his childish attempts to make you upset and keep your eyes on Midoriya.

He goes to throw it, and he gets... 46 meters. You sit there with a confused look on your face before Aizawa speaks up. "I erased your quirk. The judges for this exam were not rational enough. Someone like you should never be allowed to enroll at this school." He informs with his scarf flying around him and eyes a bright red, his black hair is floating a bit above him while Izuku's eyes widen. "Wait, you did what to my-? Ah! Those goggles, I know you! You can look at someone and cancel out their powers, The Erasure Hero, Eraserhead!" Deku rambles a bit with sparkles of excitement in his eyes. Just like you, your classmates are a bit confused, you think you've heard of this Eraserhead guy before, but there's no way this homeless looking guy is a pro hero.

"You're not ready, you don't have control over your power. Were you planning to break your bones again and count on someone else to save your useless body?" Aizawa challenges with a harsh tone. "No! That's not what I was trying to do!" Izuku is quick to fire back, but before he can keep talking, Aizawa's scarf wraps around the boy and pulls him close. "No matter what your intentions are, you would be nothing more than a liability in battle. You have the same reckless passion as another overzealous hero I know, one who saved 1,000 people by himself and became a legend, but even with that drive, you're worthless if you can only throw a single punch before breaking down. Sorry, Midoriya, with your power, there's no way you can become a hero." Aizawa goes to say with the harshest wording you could probably imagine.

You turn your gaze from Aizawa to Deku, expecting tears to be lining his green eyes, but instead, he's glaring at the teacher in front of him. The scarf unravels and his hair falls back into place while you and your classmates sit in silence, watching the interaction unfold. "I've returned your impractical quirk. Take your final throw, hurry and get it over with." Aizawa instructs while walking towards the rest of the class, stopping off to the side. You hear classmates mumbling about what your teacher told Izuku, but brush it off since you're next. You let out a small breath and begin to stretch your arms.

You close your eyes and activate your sweet, oh so deliciously sweet Adrenaline Rush. You shake with delight as adrenaline rushes through your body at an incredible speed. Your eyes roll back slightly as your tongue runs over each canine. You haven't thought about it much this entire time, but you've had just a small feeling of adrenaline in your veins throughout the whole exam. You know you're not getting dead last, there's no way since you've done somewhere between good and great on every event that has led up to now, but the slight chance of getting expelled just puts a good rush into your body that's hard to ignore now. When you're focused on the scene in front of you, now letting the Adrenaline Rush settle into your body with that intoxicating tingle sensation, you see Izuku throw the ball, his finger turning a harsh red-purple color as the ball flies into the air. Everyone is surprised to see him throw an extraordinary 705.3 meters, just 0.1 more than Bakugo.

You can't tell what Deku says, but he looks at Aizawa with a pained expression with a smile with his fist clenched. Aizawa slowly claps as Deku walks towards the rest of the class who're congratulating him on his intense throw. "(L/N), come on up." Aizawa instructs, which you immediately comply with and walk up to the circle. You let out a shuddering breath as you feel a particularly strong surge of adrenaline as you prepare to throw the ball. You send a few strands of webs around the ball that're stronger than your usual, ensuring they won't rip or tear while you throw it.

"Fuck it..." You say to yourself as you shoot a few webs out to the point where the ball is hanging from a strand of web that's wrapped around your curled fist. You bite your lip until metallic tasting blood slips onto your tongue. You whirl the ball in a circular motion until it's so fast it's hard to contain, so with one last deep breath you throw it with a yell, detaching the webbing from your hand so the ball can fly. You let out a chuckle at the slight burn your hand feels from the intense friction on your hand as the ball flies through the air. You turn to look at Aizawa who's nodding with approval before he announces your distance. "692.85 meters. Not bad, (L/N). Next!" He announces with a small nod at you as you walk away from the rest of the group.

-

Chapter .03 teaser quote: "Young (L/N)! Because you're our extra person, you'll be put with... How about team D!"

Chapter .03 will be posted on February 15, 2025

[nyt1ba]

Endless Adam edits  //  24.

Elder Naytiba.

[moonchild701]

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Merry Christmas

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Summary: It's Christmas day, and you exchange gifts with your boyfriend

Pairing: Dabi/Fem Reader

Content Warning: Suggestive but nothing explicit, Fluff, Possessive Dabi, he's slightly unhinged but it's okay, You match each other's freak, SFW

Word Count: 1.1k

Disclaimer: Character belongs to Kohei Horikoshi

A/N: This is the 12th & last part of 12 fics for a 12 Days of Christmas event. Enjoy and Happy Holidays! Merry Christmas ❤

Prompt: Opening presents

My Masterlist

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On Christmas morning, under fluffy blankets, cuddled up with Touya, his arms wrapped around you, the distinct festive, joyful feeling in the air, you wake up warm.

His snowy white hair shimmers in the morning light filtering through the curtains, his staples glittering.

You wake him with kisses peppered wherever you can reach, and he returns the favour doubled.

Most of the day is spent just enjoying each other's company. After a late breakfast, more of a brunch really, you mostly cuddle on the couch, watching Christmas movies, with hot chocolate and cookies in hand.

As the sun sets, you cook and eat dinner together. You both dress up for the occasion, him in black slacks and a white button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, you in a little red sweater dress. In your little bubble of joy, it's just the two of you and nothing else matters.

After dinner, it's finally time to exchange gifts, and you struggle to hide your excitement.

The gifts, small as they are, sit under the Christmas tree which twinkles in a variety of colours. The fireplace in the corner crackles, casting playful shadows and warmth around the room, and the entire place smells like cinnamon and pine.

It’s cozy and warm, mirroring the way he makes you feel almost perfectly.

"You first, baby. Merry Christmas." Touya smiles, holding out a small box to you. It's about the size of your palm and the wrapping paper is a shining sliver, wrinkled and slightly messily wrapped, but you can tell that he tried his best, and something within you goes warm and gooey.

You take the gift gently, carefully peeling the wrapping paper off. The meticulous process is probably driving the man crazy, but the paper is so pretty, and you can tell he worked hard to wrap it as best he could.

When you finally open the box itself, you can't help the small gasp of awe that escapes you.

A gorgeous necklace with a thin silver chain and pendant. The charm is a silver, hollow heart, with a small flame made of blue fire opal, an exact match to his own flames, hanging from the middle, and you love the way it sparkles under the warm glow of the fireplace.

It's very clearly a representation of himself, and something about that makes you giddy. Like a claim, like he's always with you, like he's showing that he himself is a permanent fixture within you, within your heart and life, and it's so perfect, you can't help the tears that trickle down your cheek.

"It's beautiful. Put it on me?" Your voice trembles with emotion, and Dabi feels his heart stutter when pretty, teary eyes look at him with such awe.

He takes a breath to try to steady his heart, swallowing around a lump in his throat as he nods, gesturing for you to turn around.

His fingertips are warm where they brush your skin, moving whatever stray hairs that are in the way, the metal cool against you where it rests. "I can't do it legally, so I need to show you how much I love you and what you mean to me any other way I can." He murmurs, voice low and warm. Goosebumps appear where his breath hits and where he touches as he clasps it around your neck, and you melt into his touch when you feel mismatched lips press to the nape of your neck.

You turn back around to face him, and your breath hitches a bit at the raw love and adoration held within his azure gaze, so soft on you, with a hint of something darker, something possessive at the sight of it around your throat.

You shiver at the slightly crazed look in his eyes, loving the way he shows his love, borderline obsession with you, even in these small ways. "I love it, thank you Touya." You say, voice all soft and sappy as you touch it gently, like it's something so very precious, because it is.

"You're welcome baby, Merry Christmas." He smiles so sweetly, you have to lean over to press a kiss to those lips.

"Okay your turn!" You clap excitedly, leaning over to get your gift to him.

You hand it to him, practically vibrating in your seat as you watch him open it.

Touya unwraps his own gift quickly, to the point you're worried he might give himself a papercut on the dark blue paper, to reveal a ring box.

"You're not proposing, are ya Doll?" He says playfully, smirking at you, and you grin.

"Something like that."

His expression changes, from playful to confused shock as his eyes dart to the box before back at you. You can't help but giggle at his reaction, knowing it's not negative, it's just that it legally can't happen and you both know it. "Just open it, Tou."

He rolls his eyes fondly, easing it open, and his expression crumples into something sappy and adoring as he looks at the ring within. It's black with a thin sliver band carved around it.

"It's tungsten, so it can withstand your hottest temperatures, and I know you always wanted rings but you don't wear them because they'll melt, so I got you this and—" your nervous rambling is cut off when he cups your cheek, pulling you into a kiss.

"I love it, Dolly. Thank you. Just know

that you're stuck with me, yeah?" He murmurs against your lips. You smile into the kiss and whisper softly, "I love you."

You feel him grin as he whispers back, just as soft, "I love you too", before deepening the kiss, licking his way into your mouth.

You kiss like you're sealing a promise, like it's final; like it's until death do you part.

It's loving and possessive, complete adoration and obsession, and you can never get enough of it, of each other.

When you pull away, you're both panting softly, lips swollen and pupils dilated.

"I think I have another present to open up, hm?" His eyes are hot on you as heated fingers trail up your thigh.

A coy smile plays on your lips as you stand and start walking backwards toward the bedroom, teasingly pulling the collar of your dress to the side to show off the white strap of your lacy lingerie beneath. "Come get it then."

His eyes darken as he playfully chases you to the room, shrieks of your laughter echoing through the apartment.

That Christmas night, you both thoroughly enjoy your presents, wrapped up in each other's arms, with the silver and blue of your necklace bunched together at the base of your throat, and the silver and black of his ring on his finger, glinting in the bright moonlight.

⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑⭑

[hardwriterdeluxe]

Santa’s Toy Factory

It was a snowy Christmas Eve, and the downtown streets were alive with glittering lights and bustling holiday shoppers. Among them was Jake, a slim, lithe guy whose delicate features and playful confidence turned heads wherever he went. Jake had always been the quintessential twink—lean, energetic, and effortlessly charming. Tonight, he was making his way home from the gym, his cropped hoodie and short shorts showing off his toned frame, when he noticed something unusual.

Nestled between two old storefronts was a pop-up shop he swore hadn’t been there the day before. A festive sign above the door read: “Santa’s Toy Factory” in bold, glittering letters. The windows were frosted, but colorful lights danced within, and faint, cheerful jingles played in the background. Jake smirked, feeling an odd mix of curiosity and amusement.

“Probably some cheesy holiday gimmick,” he muttered, but something about it drew him in.

Pushing the door open, Jake was greeted by a wave of warm air scented with peppermint and cinnamon. Inside, the shop was like a Christmas wonderland: shelves lined with toys, sparkling garlands, and mannequins dressed as elves. But the place was empty, eerily so.

“Hello?” Jake called out, his high, melodic voice echoing. No response. Just as he turned to leave, a door at the back of the shop creaked open, revealing a glowing, candy-cane-striped hallway.

“Alright, let’s see what’s back there,” Jake said to himself, his gym bag slung over one shoulder. He stepped into the hallway, the sound of his sneakers muffled by the plush red carpet. At the end of the corridor was a large room filled with conveyor belts and machinery that looked straight out of a whimsical factory. Brightly wrapped presents moved along the belts, disappearing into chutes.

“Guess Santa’s hiring elves on a budget this year,” Jake joked, chuckling. But before he could explore further, the door slammed shut behind him.

“What the—” He turned, but the door had vanished, replaced by a solid wall. Panic flared briefly before a mechanical arm shot out from the ceiling, grabbing his wrist.

“Hey! Let go!” Jake yelped, struggling against the surprisingly strong grip. More arms emerged, securing his limbs and lifting him onto one of the conveyor belts. His gym bag fell to the floor as he was pinned flat on his back.

“This isn’t funny! Let me go!” he shouted, but the factory ignored his protests. The conveyor belt began to move, carrying him toward a series of machines. His hoodie and shorts were quickly shredded away by precision lasers, leaving him in nothing but his bright pink briefs. Then, even those disintegrated into a puff of smoke, leaving him completely naked.

Jake thrashed, his lithe, toned body glistening under the bright lights. “What the hell is this?” he whimpered. But before he could struggle further, a spray of warm, glossy red latex paint hit his chest.

The paint was oddly soothing as it spread across his skin, coating him from neck to toe in a gleaming, skintight Santa outfit. The latex hugged his slight frame perfectly, but as the conveyor carried him forward, his body began to change. His narrow hips flared slightly, his thighs filling out to become shapely and firm. His abs, while lean, gained subtle definition, and his arms softened slightly but retained their delicate tone. His chest developed a slight curve, accentuating his trim, hourglass silhouette.

Jake groaned as his reflection warped in the chrome machinery. His face tingled as his sharp jawline softened ever so slightly, giving him a youthful yet striking allure. His cheeks flushed, and a dusting of pink settled on them permanently, making his skin appear smooth and flawless. His lips became fuller, plump, and inviting, while his bright blue eyes sparkled with mischievous energy.

As he moved further down the conveyor, more changes occurred. Black latex fingerless gloves slid onto his hands, and a matching harness with silver accents materialized across his chest, tightening snugly. Gleaming white fluff trimmed the edges of his outfit—from the low neckline of his red latex top to the short, flared Santa skirt that barely covered his rounded, pert backside. Knee-high black latex boots appeared on his feet, the chunky heels clicking on the conveyor as he shifted.

Jake gasped as a black choker appeared around his neck, adorned with a small silver bell that jingled softly. A Santa hat, tipped jauntily, rested atop his now snowy-white hair, styled in soft waves. The transformation wasn’t just physical, though; Jake’s mind filled with a bubbly confidence and a mischievous, flirtatious charm.

“Ho, ho, ho…” Jake purred, his voice high and sultry. His hands ran over his latex-clad body, the material squeaking slightly. “Santa’s never looked this good.”

The conveyor belt stopped, and the mechanical arms released him. Jake hopped down, the heels of his boots clicking on the polished floor. A door opened, revealing a room filled with twinkling lights and an inviting lounge area. A group of men, their eyes wide and cheeks flushed, stood waiting. They were dressed as elves, their outfits tight and barely covering their toned bodies. Jake grinned wickedly as he sashayed toward them, his hips swaying.

“Alright, boys,” he said, his voice a teasing sing-song. “Who’s ready to sit on Santa’s lap?”

The pop-up shop, as it turned out, wasn’t a toy store at all. It was Santa’s secret way of giving back to the queer community, transforming deserving souls into their most authentic, confident selves. And Jake? He was no longer the playful twink who had wandered in off the street. He was now Santa’s mischievous latex darling, ready to spread a very special kind of Christmas magic.

[raisingmybanner]

accretion [ə-ˈkrē-shən] noun: An accidental deposit of “foreign” material that was not part of the painting process, f. ex. dried liquid residue, flyspecks, etc. (from Stella Art Conservation, LLC) Riza Hawkeye has worked as Security Director for private art authenticator Roy Mustang for eight years with little trouble. However, recently Mustang has taken on riskier and higher-stakes jobs, putting himself and his team in danger of exposure and harm. The objective of a new undercover job – authenticating an elusive ink drawing while undercover on a three-week island retreat – hits too close to home for Riza. Secrets carefully kept threaten to be brought to light, exacerbated by the closeness required while posing as a young engaged couple. Hold on, they have to pose as an… engaged couple? For three weeks?!

I know, promo week for @royaibigbang 2024 is almost over and here I am with an actual promo post. Surprise! This story has been trying to escape my brain for years now, and I'm so grateful to the big bang for being the motivation I needed to get it into shape. I cannot WAIT to share it all with you on October 3 (SO SOON AHHHH).

Prepare yourselves for a romcom of royai proportions, featuring a modern-day AU, fake dating, forced proximity, slow burn, art nerdery, cameos from all your favorite (and perhaps least favorite) characters, idiots to lovers, heist vibes, and more feelings than you might initially expect.

I had the immense privilege of working with a team for this event, something that I've never done before. @aldrendaux was my wonderful beta, cheering me on and tidying up my mistakes every step of the way. (We've got Aldren to thank for the summary, too!) The story will also be featuring art by @areyousanta, @chewytran, @rizaposting, and @justanotherinterneruser. Sneak peeks of the art can be seen in Aldren's promo post here! Go scream at how gorgeous the pieces are!! (or maybe that will just be me, again, for the 400th time)

This fic was sooo much fun to write, and I hope you all enjoy reading it as well! Click through for a sneak peek of royai at a dancing class on their couple's retreat below the cut.

EDIT: Accretion is now live on AO3!

If her heart rate accelerated, it was just the surprise. It wasn’t the fact that her fingers slid through the hair on the nape of his neck for a moment before she quickly moved them down to his collar. It wasn’t the fact that the press of his body against hers felt too intimate, and too familiar. 

She was grateful for the fact that there was no time to linger on the sensations. Soon, Mustang was taking his first step, and Riza had to grip tighter to his hand and shoulder as she moved with him. She felt off-balance, pressed against him. Instead of supporting most of her own weight, she was now dependent on Mustang’s steps to be firm and guide her body along with his; it was a strange sensation for her. It was like clinging to the edge of a cliff face, trusting it not to drop her flat on her back.

Mustang, to his credit, stepped confidently, without wobbling. The added weight to his balance didn’t seem to throw him off at all, and she soon relaxed slightly against him and focused on keeping up with the music. If she concentrated hard enough, she could almost forget who the cliff face she was clinging to for dear life was.

“I told you I would keep your feet,” he said, quietly. 

The words made her look up at him automatically and — 

His face was far too close. Too close and too soft, with that small smile and that sparkle in his eye, with the hair starting to fall across his forehead. 

This look and the feel of him, strong against her wherever they touched, was continuing to make everything hopelessly confusing. She had clearly misinterpreted his actions the other night, but she still couldn’t seem to shake her own reactions to him, which was just embarrassing. She was thirty years old, not a hormone-ridden teenager, for Father’s sake.

She realized suddenly that she was just staring into Mustang’s eyes without speaking and felt her cheeks heat with mortification.

“Yes, well, the night is young,” she said, trying to sound normal and unsure whether or not she achieved it.

“I’ll convince you to trust me yet,” Mustang said, holding her gaze.

[harperwritesstuff]

Rarepair warning!!

Owen Harper x Norton Folgate (don't ask how we got there)

Owen had never been much of a dancer. In fact, the idea of dancing had always seemed more like a cruel social experiment than a fun activity. But there he was, with the radio softly playing in the background and Norton Folgate - Norton bloody Folgate - Holding his hand and swaying as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

The song on the radio was decidedly modern - well, modern by Norton’s standards. Nelly Furtado “Maneater” was pulsing through the tiny speaker, a sharp contrast to the elegant, mid-century vibe that Norton carried with him wherever he went. Still, it was infectious, and Norton didn’t seem to mind. In fact, his lips curled into a devilish grin as he set one foot forward and pulled Owen closer.

“Come on, Owen. Loosen up a bit!” Norton teased, his voice dripping with a playful confidence. “You’re far too stiff.”

“That’s because I don’t dance, Norton.” Owen replied, his tone exasperated but not entirely unkind. He was acutely aware of how out of his depth he was, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

Norton tilted his head, his dark eyes sparkling mischievously. “Oh, come now, Owen. You might even enjoy yourself!!”

Owen rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are.” Norton quipped, stepping back slightly to take the lead. He spun Owen - Well, attempted to spin Owen, but Owen’s feet got tangled, and the whole movement ended in a clumsy stumble.

“Oh, For- Norton, I am going to break something!” Owen protested, though he didn’t pull away.

“Not if you let me do the hard work.” Norton said smoothly, steadying Owen with a firm hand on his waist. “Just follow my lead. Trust me, darling, I know what I’m doing.”

And he did. Norton moved with the kind of practiced grace that could only come from someone who had spent hours perfecting the art. His steps were precise but not rigid, fluid but not overly showy. It was obvious he was used to dancing to a different rhythm, something more suited to the swing and jazz of his time, but he adapted with surprising ease to the modern beat of the song.

Owen, meanwhile, was a mess. His movements were jerky, his timing off, and he kept glancing down at his feet as though they were foreign objects. But Norton didn’t seem to care. If anything, he looked utterly delighted by Owen’s ineptitude.

“You’re enjoying this far too much.” Owen muttered.

“Of course I am.” Norton replied, his grin widening. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered.”

“I’m not flustered.” Owen lied, his cheeks burning.

“Hm-hmm.” Norton hummed, pulling Owen closer until their bodies were nearly flush. He guided Owen’s hands to rest on his shoulders, his own settling on Owen’s hips. “Now, stop thinking so much. Just move with me.”

To Owen’s surprise, it sort of worked. He stopped over-analyzing each step, letting Norton’s movement dictate his own. It wasn;t exactly smooth, but it was an improvement. And for the first time, Owen started to understand why people might enjoy this whole dancing thing.

The song’s chorus hit again, and Norton gave Owen a dramatic dip, eliciting a startled laugh from the usually stoic doctor.

“You’re ridiculous.” Owen said, breathless but grinning.

“And you’re falling for it.” Norton shot back, his tone light but his gaze warm.

The song ended far too soon, leaving the apartment in a sudden heavy silence only broken by the sound of their breathing. Norton didn’t let go immediately, his hands lingering on Owen’s waist.

“See? That wasn’t so bad.” Norton said softly.

Owen shook his head, still smiling. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here you are.” Norton echoed with a smile.

Owen chuckled, leaning in to press a quick kiss to Norton’s lips before pulling away. “Yeah. Here I am.”

[0alanasworld0]

Birthday wishes (Hakim Ziyech x reader) *smut

Request: Baby please can you write something for ziyech’s birthday? Some fluff/smut? Thank youu 🫶🏼

warnings: smut

“Hakim” you whisper, slightly shaking his sleeping form to coax him awake. You find yourself to be successful as he groans and tries to hide under the covers but you only follow him, placing a hand on his cheek and the first thing he sees when he opens his eyes is your smiling face. A sight for sore eyes.

“Happy birthday, my love.” you murmur, enjoying the way he leans into your touch as you stroke his cheek. He hauls you back into bed with him, letting you fall on top of him and lay kisses wherever you could reach, sighing out at the feeling of your lips on him. You trail them back up from his neck to his ear and remind him that you’ve made breakfast. One fit for a king, no less because it's his special day and you were excited to be the one spoiling him for once.

“You really didn’t have to…” he trails off, feeling guilty that you had awoken early just to serve him. You scoff with a shake of your head as you insist.

“It's your birthday, love! Of course, I had to!” you reprimand. You narrow your eyes as you see the mischievous glint in his, wondering what he could possibly be planning now.

“I think I want something else first” he muttered with a smirk, rolling over so you were now on your back. You’re only in one of his shirts and your underwear so he has pretty easy access. His hands are immediately on your plush thighs, squeezing the soft flesh and eliciting a short gasp from you. Oh you were sensitive for him today.

He makes quick work of your underwear, pulling it off you with ease. You try to take off your shirt but he insists on keeping it for now, the sight of you wearing it almost like a dress is simply too good to lose. 

He hurries to take off his boxers before returning back to you, pressing kisses all over your face and neck before you pull him away. 

“Aren’t I supposed to be spoiling you?” you tease and he pouts slightly. You push him over so he’s on his back and he sits up so he’s against the headboard, waiting for your next move. He finds your movements to be far too slow for his liking as you take your time to straddle his lap. Having reached his limit, he grabs your waist and pulls you down onto his lap and you roll your eyes back at the feeling of his cock against your sensitive clit. 

“I thought you were gonna spoil me?” he remarks with narrowed eyes and you chuckle quietly.

“I was getting to that!” you attempt to defend yourself but he’s having none of it. You lean in for another kiss which he can’t help but moan into as you gently rock your hips. The feeling of your aching core dripping onto him is one that he would never get used to. The grip on your hips tightens as he slowly lifts you, not once breaking the kiss. You take it upon yourself to line him up with your hole and he releases another broken moan at the feeling of your hand wrapping around him. You refrain from teasing him this time around and take your time while sinking down onto him.

This time it's you who can’t hold off from moaning at the friction. No matter how often he had you, you would never get used to the delicious stretch, crying out at the feeling of him hitting all of your most sensitive spots. His sparkling brown eyes are completely blown with lust and desperation, savouring every part of you and trying to commit it all to memory. You were so addictive and divine to him that every moment spent was better than the next. More pleasurable. More exciting. More heart-warming. He just couldn’t get enough and you could really feel it today with the way he was grabbing at you. His hands tightly grip your ass, landing a light smack before setting the pace. He starts off slow, pulling you up and down his cock to get you used to him. He leaves kisses all over your neck, taking the liberty to lightly suck some marks onto the delicate flesh. He never dared to do anything of the sort usually but it was almost certainly a guilty pleasure of his to see you wearing the splotchy marks. That paired with the golden number 22 necklace he got you? He was a goner, for sure. 

He quickly grows frustrated at the one barrier left between you and him and he hurriedly pulls it off you. Once again, you looked unbelievably sexy wearing one of his jerseys but he just needed to see and feel all of you. The quick movement paired with the morning chill has your nipples hardened within seconds and he doesn’t hesitate to latch onto one while pinching and rolling the other in his hand. You place a hand on the back of his head to keep him there as you savoured the extra stimulation. 

Soon enough the pace of your hips speeds up, the need for friction only growing stronger and stronger with each movement. Your hand leaves the back of his head to wander over the rest of his body, mapping out the exquisite chiselled muscles and lines that adorned him. 

Once he was satisfied that you would move on your own, his other hand leaves your ass to your front, quickly finding your clit and rubbing tight circles onto the swollen bud. You immediately clench around him and he moans loudly at the feeling of your warmth constricting around him. He manages to pull himself away from you and bury his hand in your hair to try and force you to look at him. Once you finally comply and open your eyes, the almost feral look in his eyes is enough to send you spiralling into your orgasm. Your thighs tremble and you struggle to keep up with the pace so he helps you out, hands on your hips and pulling you up and down his cock, maintaining the movements as he rides out his own high shortly after. You both pant into each other's mouths, slowing down your movements to a pause.

“The pancakes are going to be cold now!” you whine with a pout and he laughs breathily. 

“I promise you that breakfast is the last thing on my mind, sweetheart.” he winks and you lightly slap his shoulder. He slowly pulls you off him and carries you to the shower where you can undoubtedly spoil him some more.

“How did you manage to get a table here?! I’ve been trying for ages and they’re always booked!” he exclaims, happily taking a seat in his favourite restaurant.

“I have my ways!” you remark with a shrug. He narrows his eyes and you relent.

“Fine! I said he could have a signed Chelsea shirt for his daughter.” you mumble, trying to discreetly gesture at the maitre d’i behind him. Not that it matters anyway as he couldn’t make it anymore obvious by turning around to look at him. The man indeed looks up, eyes lighting up instantly with a bright smile as he mouths a ‘thank you’ to Hakim, holding up the shirt from under the counter with a tight grip. Hakim smiles back and turns around to face you with a smirk.

He spends the rest of the dinner teasing you about the perks of fame and the struggles of being such a highly sought-after talent. You cope with the antics as its his birthday and it thankfully dies down as the food arrives. Hakim is instantly scarfing it down like his life depended on it as you smile. You really couldn’t have it any other way. You both stuff yourselves so full, courtesy of your bank account for once, and by the time dessert rolls around, you finally decide to give him the one gift you’ve been holding off.

“Oh sweetheart, you didn’t have to!” he reaches over the table to hug you, even before opening it.

Although he was itching to spoil you, he had to admit that he loved seeing the lengths you went to for him. The care with which you bought each gift, clearly having only picked out the best for him. You simply knew him too well and although you tried to spoil him on the regular, you had a blast spending the whole day just showering him with gifts. Nothing but the best for him of course.

Once he reseats himself, he carefully undoes the ribbon and removes the top cover. It reveals a  watch that he’s had his eye on since�� since he saw it while on a trip with… you? Had you remembered after all that time? Had you seriously been paying that close attention?

“I know it's a bit late but it finally came back in stock recently so I kinda just… went for it?” you scratch your head nervously at his silence. You can’t yet decipher the expression on his face as he stares at it in the box. 

“You are something else, you know?” he says. You sigh out in relief as you see a wide smile break onto his face. He takes care to put the box down before reaching over to wrap you in another hug, this time much tighter and he’s much more reluctant to let go. His eyes have that signature sparkle as he stares at you, the softness of his gaze causing a wave of warmth to come over your body. 

Much to your dismay, night was soon falling upon you and you both decided to bid his friends and family a good night as you made your way home. You were struggling to keep your eyes open in the passenger seat and as a result didn’t register the way he looked at you whenever the car stopped. There was a softness in his eyes that was well and truly reserved for you. You were his angel, his princess. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have you in his life: someone so kind, talented, smart and giving. He knew he had to have done something right in his life to have you here with him.

You haul him up the stairs of your home, to your bedroom and sit him down on the bed as you leave to give him his final gift of the night. You’re much more nervous about this one than the others. It certainly was very different to you in general but you figured that this would be the perfect way to end off the day. 

You readjust the straps of the sheer lace bralette and throw on the silk robe, checking over yourself one more time before leaving the bathroom and awaiting his reaction. 

To put it lightly, he’s stunned. He has to do a double take and he still hasn't quite processed the sight before him. The lace hugged your body in the most sinful way and the way the robe hung off your body made you look like a work of art. He’s paralysed in his seat so you make your own way over and take a seat on his lap and wrap your legs around his waist. 

“I’m all yours.” you whisper seductively and you shiver at the feeling of his fingertips gently brushing over the material and grazing your heated skin. He slowly tugs at the belt of the robe which falls to the floor, your robe slowly slips off his shoulders and his heart stops once again at the sight of the lace perfectly cupping your breasts.

He seems to be in no rush as he takes his time laying you down on your bed, laying a trail of kisses from your jawline to your chest. At least you think he wants to take his time until you hear a tearing sound pierce the silence. Your eyes burst open as you look down in complete shock, the lace torn off your body and in tatters now.

“All mine, right?” you nod your head vigorously, the wetness between your thighs feeling more and more apparent. To your luck, he reaches the panties next, giving them the same treatment as the bra. He pulls your thighs apart and smirks at the sight of your dripping core clenching around nothing. He rushes to take off his own clothes before coming back to you, cock completely hardened and he throws one of your legs over his shoulders while leaning over you. He dips his head down to kiss you again while he rubs the tip of his cock up and down your slit. The way it caught on your hole every once in a while made you keen in surprise and delight. Just as you’re about to whine about the teasing, he pushes in all the way without warning. Your tight centre struggles to accommodate the stretch and your eyes roll back in delight.

“Such a good girl for me, aren’t you? You’re so fucking pretty and perfect and it’s all for me? You really do spoil me, sweetheart. Every. Fucking. Day.” he accentuates the last three with particularly hard thrusts that almost send you flying up the bed if it weren’t for the iron grip on your hips. You groan loudly as his cock rubs against your most sensitive spots. He really knew you like the back of his hands, angling himself so he would press against those very spots.

His pace is bruising as the headboard loudly banged against the wall with every thrust. The room was filled with the sounds of your incoherent babbling and his sweet praises. You felt like you were on cloud 9 as you reached your high much more quickly than expected. Your moans grow louder and he takes this as an invitation to make your high as mind-numbingly pleasurable as he could. His thumb slips and his nail lightly grazes your sensitive bud. You’re sent into one of the most earth-shattering orgasms of your life and you can’t stop your thighs from shaking. You clench around him to the point where he struggles to leave, with the shallow thrusts only causing you to tighten further and he falls soon after. You feel his warm breath against your neck as he groans loudly, reaching his own high. He finally stills against you.

“Happy birthday to me!”

omg its been way too long! I know its a day late but the team is celebrating with him today so it's all good lol. got another Ziyech fic in the works coming out very soon alongside a Bounou one so stay tuned!!!

[morgueofstories]

This story was based on fanart by the wonderful BestoSunglass on Twitter. Please give them love and support as their fanart was what inspired me to write this.

***

Dream knew that when he decided to go after the group targeting Sapnap, he was as good as dead. 

He knew that ever since he joined the event, there would be a target on his back and people would want to kill him because of the possibility of him winning the event. Everyone wanted to make it, even if it meant staining their hands with the blood of strangers or their closest friends. 

Dream considered it a miracle that he made it this long. The last few games were nerve-racking, but luck was on his side as he made it through each round; the last round weighed heavily on Dream’s mind though, as he remembered Tina getting eliminated and killed right in front of him after losing her tail at the last second. 

No one was there when Karl was killed, and it affected everyone. Dream knew Sapnap took it the hardest and couldn’t forget the broken look on Sapnap’s face after Spreen yelled at him about how Karl died without his friends being there for him. 

They lost two friends on that day, and it seemed that Dream would be next. 

The area was too dark for Dream to see who he was about to attack, but it didn’t matter as he took the broken bottle in his hand and whack someone on the head with it. The sound of Sapnap running away shouting curses at someone made a small smile come to Dream’s face at the fact he managed to help his friend before he felt someone attack his shoulder. 

Cursing, Dream ran through the crowd before he got cornered, the group managed to land a few shallow hits at him as he ran off toward where he had hidden earlier with his friends. 

The sounds of footsteps behind him only made him try to run faster, but it seemed like one of his attackers managed to stab his thigh, sending waves of pain up his body with each step he took. 

The sound of something swinging through the air caused Dream to turn on his leg and narrowly dodge it; a curse escaped his lips when the pain in his thigh burned in retaliation for the sudden movement. His attacker recovered quickly and moved to stab his throat with the broken bottle.

Two things happened at once. Dream felt someone wrap an arm around his waist as his back pressed against someone's shoulder; and a hand reached out grabbing his attacker’s wrist, stopping the bottle from getting any closer to Dream’s face. 

The dim lighting of the nearby lights surrounding the platform allowed Dream to see his attacker’s shocked face, and it also allowed him to see the face of his savior as well.

“Farfadox?” 

***

The moment Farfadox meet Dream was the moment he fell head over heels in love with him. 

Farfadox tried to keep his growing crush a secret, he did not want to deal with teasing remarks from his friends or get the shovel talk from Dream’s friends who seemed intent on being the blonde’s bodyguards wherever he went. 

Everything about Dream just made Farfadox’s heart skip a beat; his smile, the way he laughed, how agile and light on his feet he was no matter the round, and his viridescent eyes which sparkled 24/7. He was perfect. 

He needed to stop fantasizing about the American or he may just die from a heart attack.

Even though he was crushing on Dream, that did not mean he wasn’t unaware of what other people thought of the American; and something possessive grew within Farfadox when he heard people talk about how they were going to target and kill the man he loved. 

He knew that this was a game of life and death they were all currently in, but he knew that Dream did not deserve to die so soon into the game. Dream deserved more, he deserved to win. 

Even if it meet Farfadox had to die for Dream to advance to the next round, he would do so in a heartbeat.

So when the lights turned off, Farfadox immediately started to search for the blonde to try and protect him.

It was hard to see in the dark, and Farfadox had a few close calls with some people who tried to kill him, but he took care of them either by killing or chasing them until he was certain they would not try and find him again. 

While using the bunk beds to try and see if he could see the blonde, Farfadox saw someone being chased by several men; and the moment he saw the crown on their head he immediately knew it was his beloved.

His beloved, who was in danger and about to die soon.

Wasting no time, Farfadox jumped off the bed, ignoring the pain in his ankles as he reached out to put a protective arm around Dream, pulling him back from the swinging arm. He quickly grabbed the hand with a tight grip to prevent the bottle from reaching and harming Dream any further.

Close enough, Farfadox could see that the assailant who was trying to kill Dream was none other than ElRichMC, who looked confused at what Farfadox was doing. Behind ElRichMC were other people Farfadox knew, who looked just as surprised as ElRichMC but weren’t trying to advance due to the intimidating aura surrounding Farfadox at the moment.

He could hear Dream softly say his name, and a growl immediately left Farfadox’s throat as he felt blood seep into his jacket from an injury Dream had. The thought that Dream was going to be killed like an animal made the rage and possessiveness within him start to reach the surface. 

“Farfa,” ElRichMC said in shock, and Farfadox decided enough was enough; he needed to make an example to everyone to not harm what was his. 

“Este es mío.” Farfadox growled through bared teeth. 

Player #45 ElRichMC eliminated.

[aditublog]

Only one Pair of Gloves

The temperatures around them dropped even more as they kept walking and Dragonus pulled the coat tighter around his shoulders. Then he stuck his hands into the pockets, so his fingers wouldn’t freeze. He was somewhat surprised to find a glove in each pocket. He must’ve put them there the previous year and forgotten them. How convenient.

As he slipped them over his hands, he looked at Terrorblade by his side. The demon was only wearing a thin long-sleeve and loose pants, nothing more. He didn’t give the impression of being cold, so Dragonus ignored his state of dress.

Instead he looked at the landscape around them. It hadn’t snowed, yet everything was white, dusted by frost. The frozen grass crunched underneath their feet and when Dragonus brushed against a branch, ice fell down in a shower of white flakes.

It was quiet since most creatures were asleep in the middle of winter.

“Where are you taking me?” Earlier Terrorblade had told Dragonus to get his coat and warm boots and then he had dragged him outside. That had been hours ago and they had been walking since then.

Dragonus had never been here, he didn’t know what to expect. He liked it, though. The air was crisp, the sky blue, the sun bright and wherever the sunlight hit the frozen ground, everything sparkled. It was very pretty.

The demon by his side was a hard contrast to all that sparkly white. His dark skin held a tinge of purple during daylight, but the shirt and pants he had pulled on were as black as possible. They seemed to swallow the light that was reflected from the ground and the trees.

“You’ll see. It isn’t much further.”

They climbed a small hill, their steps heavy on the icy ground. Dragonus wondered if he should fly, it would be easier, but he actually liked the sound of his footsteps on the ice, kind of scrunchy, and when he looked back, he smiled about the set of foot prints they had left on the otherwise untouched ground.

Then they reached the top of the hill and the Skywrath Mage gasped. In front of them was a small river or a big creek, but it was frozen. Not completely, underneath the ice, water churned. It was evident here and there, where the sheet of ice wasn’t completely solid.

But the most amazing sight was the frozen waterfall. It was rather small, only a few meters high, but where it ran over a low cliff, icicles hung down, in all sizes. Behind the river, a forest stretched out, the trees white and sparkling.

The river sparkled as well, everything sparkled in the sunlight. It was an amazing sight and Dragonus stared in awe.

But though he was occupied with marvelling at their surroundings, Dragonus noticed, now that they were standing still, how Terrorblade rubbed his hands together. Maybe he was freezing after all. “Are you cold?”

Terrorblade dropped his hands to his sides. “It’s all right.”

“That doesn’t answer my question.” Not that Dragonus expected a straight answer. The demon wouldn’t admit to being cold, he’d probably see it as some form of weakness. Stupid. Not waiting for an answer, the Skywrath Mage pulled a glove from one of his hands and held it out for Terrorblade. “Take it.”

The demon looked at the glove, then at Dragonus. His perpetual frown deepened. “If I was cold, how is one glove supposed to warm both my hands?”

“Take it and I’ll show you.” The glove would be a tight fit, Terrorblade’s hands were larger than his, but it would be good enough. He waited while the demon wriggled one hand into the glove. It would still be warm inside.

Dragonus immediately felt the cold on his exposed skin, not uncomfortable this quickly, but his fingers would get cold without the glove.

Terrorblade looked at Dragonus with narrowed eyes. The mage smiled. Then he held his un-gloved hand out, palm facing upwards. “Take my hand.”

The demon blinked, then stared at Dragonus, not moving at all for several seconds, as if he had suddenly frozen into a statue in the cold. Dragonus waited. Then, tentatively, the demon reached out and wrapped his fingers around Dragonus’. They were cold and his skin was rough, but though it would help to keep their hands warm, that wasn’t the only reason why the mage had suggested this.

He liked the demon and he wanted to show him as much.

Dragonus was sure Terrorblade blushed, if that was possible for the demon, as he looked away from their entwined hands and towards the waterfall.

It was romantic, Dragonus thought. The waterfall, sparkling in the sun, everything peaceful and quiet around them, while they stood side by side, holding hands and taking the scenery in. The Skywrath Mage shifted on his feet until he was so close to Terrorblade that their shoulders almost touched. It was close enough that their wings brushed.

Slowly, the demon’s hand around his got warmer. He had been cold, stubborn demon that he was. And he would’ve suffered through it, just to show Dragonus this beautiful place.

“You are soft inside.”

Amused, Dragonus looked at Terrorblade, who’s gaze was locked onto the frozen waterfall while he was speaking to the mage.

“I mean, you are soft outside as well, but you know that I’m just a demon. I don’t die, it doesn’t matter if I’m cold.”

“It matters to me.” Demonic eyes focussed on Dragonus now, they were burning bright in the dark face. “You are more than just a demon.”

The smallest of smiles tugged at Terrorblade’s lips. “Pretty angel. You say the nicest things.”

“Don’t charm me with nice words. You have to value your well-being, I don’t like when you silently suffer for whatever reason. Demon or not, I like you, and I don’t want you to be hungry or cold or uncomfortable or anything.” And he especially hated it when it was in such a situation as now, where Terrorblade did something for him, showed him this wonderful place with the frozen waterfall, but then wasn’t comfortable during their time together because he was freezing.

The smile vanished from the demon’s face, his gaze intent as he stared at Dragonus. Then he nodded. “I’m not used to someone caring about me. But I’ll try.”

“That is good enough.” Dragonus didn’t want to change the demon, he liked him as he was, his independence, his resilience, he simply wished the demon would take a little bit more care of himself, or that he’d at least let Dragonus take care of him.

To be fair, he did let Dragonus take care of him, or he’d have never taken the glove or agreed to hold hands. “Do you know where it is even warmer?” Before Terrorblade could answer, the mage guided the demon’s hand to his back, underneath his coat and shirt, and put the still too cold hand of the demon right on his warm skin. He repressed a shudder but the cold was immediately forgotten when he saw the demon’s eyes widen.

“But now your hand will get cold. Put it underneath my shirt.”

Dragonus chuckled. Yeah, that was even better than holding hands.

Terrorblade’s skin was rough and a bit hard, but it was warm and the Skywrath Mage stepped closer. He had to tug his wing tight against his body and still it brushed fully against the demon’s own wing. But now they stood shoulder against shoulder, arm in arm, and when Dragonus looked up at Terrorblade, a rare smile was on the demon’s face.

They stood there, in the frozen grass, and gazed at the landscape in front of them. Ice, sparkling white, and the low churning of the water of the river.

When they walked back, they held hands again, because it was too damn annoying to walk arm in arm. Their wings always got in the way.

[condomconfetti]

@redactar

　　　　Sarsi hadn't been to many parties like this. Her brand of fun was usually found in loud clubs with strobe lights or hopping from one bar to the next, causing a scene wherever she went. This was much more subdued and, by her standards, boring. The soft murmur of idle chatter between political officials, lobbyists, and other one percenters echoed through the white room. The glittering chandeliers provided sufficient light to see.

　　　　Sarsi suppressed a yawn as she stood beside her date, arm wrapped around his elbow. Senator Richardson was on the younger side compared to most of his peers but still considerably older than her. That hadn't stopped her from accepting his invitation to join him at this party. She smiled politely as they went about the room, her silver dress sparkling as she walked, but Sarsi couldn't hide the boredom in her eyes as much as she tried.

　　　　Sarsi heard Richardson mention something about meeting up with the head of his security detail. Someone 'on loan' from the Secret Service, he had said, which perked up Sarsi's curiosity as they made their way around to the back of the room. The mechanic wasn't sure who she had been expecting, but the familiar form had her face visibly blanching when the realization hit her. It was rare for her to be so caught off guard, but her recovery was quick. She'd recognize those handsome features anywhere.

　　　　　"Hey, Leon," she said, offering her one of her sweeter smiles after Richardson had gone through with his introductions. She was genuinely happy to see him, if a little embarrassed to be caught with someone else. Not that it mattered too much since it wasn't like they had been official or anything. They hadn't spoken in a while, and while she knew he was busy, Sarsi was beginning to wonder if maybe he'd moved on. The older man was surprised by her forwardness, glancing between the two of them and asking if they knew one another.

[kunstundpolitik]

Placing pieces together...

Can there be good second parts?

After a breakup that didn't kill me but stop hurting because he came back... we are back at place one and the thing that goes through my mind is.. can second parts be good?

After something around a month without eating, he offered to feed me one day and we started seeing each other again. For me it was love and for him it was probably sex....

The days went by and every time he would start giving me more and more of his time, he wouldn't leave my house for over 3, 4 days and I was feeling in heaven and at the same time I was having my shit together and controlling my jelousy because of course no exclusivity deal was signed...

I started to fell for him again and then after a trip he made with his friends when he was back and the feelings that were bottling exploded after that we decided to give a new try to the relationship ...

I was again the "official woman" but so many girls on instagram were a constant fear to me that he wasn't 100% in like I was, I started to loose my sparkle little by little and accept the crumbs that he once again started to give.

Empathy made me hold long into a relationship where I was giving but not reciving... changes were made but trust was at some point lost...

Substance abuse is never to take light and I started to feel the effects of the substance abuse from my partner, disrespecting me everytime he was high, lack of energy when he was not and just taking more and more of me everytime. He broke my trust and I broke his... I played al the time by his rules, and little by little let go of friends that were there for me for a long time, specially male friends because that would make him feel insecure until one day it happened.... I oppened pandora's box... Discovered that me saying hi to my friends was nothing compared to what he was doing behind my back, and I changed I just wasn't the same...

I tried to hide it and to deal with it, I wasn't eating, I wasn't sleeping, I wasn't happy .. and I was willing to go through hell until my body said STOP! So my body rejected the man I've promised my everything, and that was the moment that he walked away....

At first I felt peace that I haven't felt in a while and while day passed by I would be on a rollercoaster of emotions crying at parties or clubs, at the park, wherever it would hit me and within 2 weeks a new girl came by... his dream come true... an asian woman with big tits and big ass everything I am never gonna be...

I feel betrayed and disrespected, I feel sometimes that I don't want to keep moving forward, but some other times I remember that I was the only guilty of allowing myself to be stepped over and over again.

I don't know where am I standing now, and I don't know where to go from here, but I know that at some point I will understand this lesson and move on with my life...

The man before him told me once that I deserve only the best and that I am a gorgeous woman and need to be treated like that... I feel so sorry that I forgot....

I hate to be always the one ending like this while people go and live their best life... but I'm happy for them...

I really will miss my ex, because I got to see some pureness in his heart that I don't think he is even able to..

The last two partners I had, even though one was sort of only a fantasy ... have made the biggest changes of personality I've had in my entire life... and I can't be anything but grateful for what we had...

Finishing a relationship always leaves you thinking... about former partners... and I wish I had the nerve to reach out to you, maybe someday I will... and if I do... I just hope you answer.

Anyway just ranting here for myself...

[jedipoodoo]

hi !! i would love to see a clone (any!! :) ) x fem reader with the line “i had to see you again.” in it for all your fluffy and angsty readers😌 thank you lovely !

Well, I hope my fluffy and angsty readers enjoy this one 😘😘😘😘 Thank you for the request!

Notes: No warnings, just pining. Written with a female reader in mind but there isn't much to indicate a certain gender.

Come Back...Be Here (Arc Trooper Echo x Reader)

"I miss you" was all his last message had said. No coordinates. No timeframe. No details of any kind that could possibly give away where he was or what he was doing. You knew he was off doing big important work and it was critical that nothing leak out to the Separatists. You would die before you let anything like that happen.

You spent weeks wondering if Echo were dead or alive, telling yourself that after returning from the grave he had to be immortal. You had waited one year for him, you could hang on for one more measly month.

You went about your day in a daze. Retail job. Cheap caff. Parking tickets. Check 79s just in case he forgot to comm. Come home to an empty apartment that felt too big and too small all at once without him. You were vaguely aware of what was happening, and yet it felt like watching someone else live their life.

It was a week before you heard anything else from him.

You trudged home from a day of work that was too long, feet sore in the shoes that were too tight, back to an apartment that was too cold.

No sooner had you thrown yourself on the bed spread-eagle, then your comm began to beep.

You groaned, long and loud, planning to ignore it as long as you could.

But the comm kept beeping.

You dragged yourself to the edge of the bed, trying to reach your bag without leaving the comfort of the mattress.

The comm kept beeping, and you were fully prepared to tell your pushy boss to kark off and stop contacting you outside your scheduled hours, but the name that popped up on the screen wasn't your boss.

You nearly fell off your bed in surprise and sat up, now hastily hitting "accept call". Echo's torso and head blinked into existence, the light dancing around your darkened apartment as he sighed in relief and smiled at you from millions of light years away.

"Echo! What are you-"

"I had to see you," He murmured between deep breaths. He sounded exhausted, but his dark eyes sparkled over the holo.

Your heart pounding as your hands cradled the holo of his head. You reached out a finger, trying to trace his cheek, only for the image to fizzle.

Echo chuckled, "What I wouldn't give to hold you in my arms right now..."

You snorted, "You'd never give up your brothers."

There was a loud clatter in the background of wherever Echo was, and he threw a glare over his shoulder, "I dunno, Tech can be a real pain in the shebs sometimes."

You laughed, leaning in closer to the Holo image so that your forehead was almost pressed against his.

"I miss you," You sighed, feeling embarrassed at how childish you sounded.

"I miss you too, cyar'ika," He crooned, trying to press a kiss to your forehead, "If all goes well on this mission, we'll get shore leave in two weeks."

You sat up, eying your bag in the corner of your room, "Where are you now?"

"Nonono, no," He chuckled, "I don't want you anywhere near the front lines. I'll be back soon enough."

"Promise?"

He nodded, "I promise."

"Good," You lay back on your pillows, still holding the holo in your hands. You had nothing new to say since you last talked with him, and Echo obviously couldn't share many details of what he was up to, but neither of you moved to end the call.

"Tired?" Echo propped his head on his hand.

"Very."

You both laughed softly. The traffic of Coruscant flew past your apartment window with not a care in the world, and Echo's brothers, crowded into their tiny ship, were yelling, shouting and wrestling. Echo flushed in embarrasment as Crosshair snapped an insult at Hunter, but you didn't mind.

"Can you stay on the call? Just until I fall asleep?" You asked.

Echo nodded, "I'm right here, cyar'ika."

You smiled and set the holo on the pillow next to yours, turning on your side to face him. Echo had already pulled out his regulations manual and started to read. You watched his sharp eyes scan each page until you couldn't keep your eyes open any longer. Just before you slipped into unconciousness, you heard him whisper his good-byes.

"I love you, cyar'ika."

[littlefreya]

Prince Of Darkness

Summary: There'll be no escape tonight, the devil always gets what he desires.

Pairing: Devil!August Walker x Unnamed OFC (3rd person pov)

Word count: 6k

Warnings: 18+, DARK! NonCon, kidnapping, stalking, breeding, exhibitionism, loss of virginity, supernatural stuff, sex in a cathedral, mention of heaven and hell. Please proceed with caution. 

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own

A/N: I have put a lot of effort into this story, and I’m really anxious af. We all like to see August as a demon, but I decided to go all the way... And I’m nervous at your response and going to die after hitting submit. So bye.

Many thanks to the love of my life @agniavateira​, for support, brainstorm and beta. And to @crimsonrae​ and @wondersofdreaming​ who held my hand. 

Please give feedback and reblog if you enjoyed my work. 🖤

Title: Prince of Darkness

Blood painted the streets, courtesy of the blinding scarlet lights that danced upon gravel and tar before dwindling into darkness. The soft, beaming glow pulsed with the muffled beats of a monotonous song that played inside the luxurious nightclub. Like thundering war drums, it rumbled in the ears of the elegant man who stood along the shadows. 

Leaning against the cement, he took a sip from a glass of spiced Bordeaux and brushed an index finger over his thick moustache to wipe away misguided droplets of wine. 

‘How could anyone enjoy this abomination?’ He wondered with a guttural groan, never quite grasping this electronic noise thing; but then again August was older than this music, and his tastes far exceeded cheap and trivial antics. He was a man driven by the appetite for destruction and forbidden delights, and tonight, he was finally about to obtain both. After decades of anticipation, the succulent fruit was ready to be plucked. 

Oh, what an intoxicating and delicious mist his unsuspecting beloved emanated, setting his heart aflame with her sheer ripeness.  

‘It’s been so long, so painfully long.’ 

Time had lost its meaning as he waited, curving and swerving into a stream of an infinite river flowing with decay and death. 

But as the old saying went: all haste comes from the devil. 

So the man lingered against the wall, a sparkle enkindled and crackled in his eyes, morphing into black wells whilst the waves of her honey-liqueured ambrosia grew pungent, seeping through his airways and sinking in his throat. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, revelling in the sound of harsh tapping heels that echoed louder with every step until she came summoned into the naked wilderness of the city street. 

‘Beautiful and innocent as the garden of Eden. Of course, of course...’

The stranger scrutinised the young woman with another sip from his wine and a bite of great intrigue - but stoicism and silence, for now, were his most valuable allies. 

Clad in a lithe black dress and a stylish leather jacket to keep herself warm from the chill autumn breeze, she fished for the mobile device in her purse while distress washed her wrinkling brow. Illuminated by the bright screen, her face sulked as for the seventh time in the last 30 minutes, her attempt to find an Uber bore no success whatsoever. 

Was there something about tonight that all drivers were kept occupied, or had her luck simply run dry? 

Showing her face to the moonlit sky, she sighed in great frustration. This must have been fate’s retribution to a mindless bad decision; she should have left with her friends, but staying alone to fruitlessly catch the eye of the uncaring bartender seemed more significant as the buzz of alcohol dimmed any ray of logic. Now deep into the night, walking home alone didn’t appear to be the most sympathetic solution, yet it occurred to her that there wasn’t much of choice.  

“You seem distressed.” 

Equal to a dark chant sputtering words of witchcraft, the low yet incredibly soft baritone of his voice slithered from the corner and crept down her spine with icy scales. A lurching hollow flared within her gut, her neck seized by the tight grip of a serpentine phantom. 

His vibrato sounded like a voice that called her through a dream she never had before; despite the unsettling arctic spasm gyrating through her shaky limbs, it lured her to return a stare and meet the cryptic face behind the seducing chant. 

Two sharp glaciers glimmered at her as the stranger sauntered into the penumbra, momentarily lit by another flash of neon red that broke onto his face and highlighted his ethereal features. Her lips drew open, her nipples hardening against the fabric of her dress as a shiver ran through her. To say that the stranger was handsome would be an understatement, as it almost seemed as if he was ‘designed’ by a sculptor - carved cheeks led a path to slightly pouted lips, and a stark, dimpled chin was shadowed by dark stubble. His chocolate-brown hair was elegantly combed to the side, with a couple of large lustrous locks gently nestling over his brow.

Though it wasn’t his good looks that left her riddled with prickly goosebumps, but the unprecedented magnetic haul that made her feel as if she was physically drawn toward this mysterious man. 

Frightened by the unbidden reaction of her own body, she quickly retreated to gawk at the phone and provided no answer to his inquiry. A strange yearning to submit grew between her clenching thighs, a primal response to his striking looks and charms. 

But she killed the seed before it set roots in her flesh. 

‘They said Ted Bundy was charming as well…’ she mused. Frivolous as she wanted to be, getting murdered was undoubtedly not among her plans tonight. 

Revelling in her silent reply with an arched brow, he tilted his head when a blinding flicker abruptly caught his keen eye. Kissed by the pale moonlight’s beam, a small silver cross rested upon her collarbone. His sharp fangs begged to peek with sardonic amusement, but he kept his lips clamped, not wishing to scare her too soon. 

There was to be plenty of that later...

“May I offer you my help, sweetling?”

Threading his long fingers between the smooth stem and clasping them around the bowl, he lowered the glass to the side of his hip, dragging the girl’s unwilling eye to the healthy bulge in his groin. 

Her lips drew open as a surge of staggering heat flushed at her apex. 

It seemed enormous... 

“Name’s August, like the emperor, but you can call me whatever your heart desires...”

Embers burnt at her cheeks; in her belly, the odd mystical calling continued weaving at her core in an urge to accept whatever it was he had to offer. Her eyes warred to tear her gaze away from his nether region as her lashes fluttered to meet the abysmal glance that bestowed both frost and fire through her tendons. 

There was something archaically familiar about this man as if she knew him before the days had names. Yet she swore, it was the first time she ever saw his striking face. 

“I can take you wherever you need to go.” 

Breath laced with wine titillated her nostrils as the words spilt from his lips, whilst another crimson ray broke upon the marble of his face. Never had he urged, but instead suggested with a tongue soaked with honey. Still, a blazing aura of danger encircled him. And even though the very natural fear of walking home alone grappled her, it still seemed like a much better plan than entrusting her life to a stranger who was twice her size. 

Deciding to keep her tongue knotted, she turned and began striding away. ‘Best not to engage him,’ she thought, but once she moved past his bulky figure, her heart suddenly picked up its pace and her legs refused to function as if they no longer belonged to her. 

Seconds stretched into eternity. The thought that this civilised savage will assail her and drag her into the night scratched at the back of her head. But the worst of it was the simmering throb. Unforgiving, like gathering storm clouds, it thundered the closer she walked by him and then gradually died out as she finally managed to move away and free herself from this invisible bond. 

Savouring the final drop of wine, August watched amused as the frightened little lamb quickly oscillated on her feet, scampering into the horrors offered by the dark. It was funny how fear made animals act so heedlessly and rush straight into the burning heart of peril. 

A toothy grin peaked his chiselled cheeks. Always the gentleman, he shifted from the concrete, discarding the glass carelessly to shatter on the sidewalk. His sinew stretched in a relaxed ripple of an apex predator before he straightened both vest and jacket and stroked his thick moustache. 

Though her heavenly fragrance still soaked the air, the girl was already gone from normal eyesight. It was a pity to see her leave, yet there was no need for him to rush.

There was never really a choice for her. 

Strangely, the night kept growing unnaturally darker. A great ocean of blackness and crystalised stars spread from above, casting looming shadows across the tall buildings that resembled a maw filled with rotten teeth. The tepid wind that blew between the vast concrete monoliths was nothing but the breath of a mythical beast intoning her name through the shadows.

Clawing at her forearms, she meandered through the inert street with a wary eye. Desolate neon signs flickered hauntingly, bequeathing a vibrant beacon of dread over the shimmering, onyx road. Not a living soul was in sight as if the world descended into stillness, dominated by an eerie, dead silence save for the harsh echo of her hasty heels. And yet, the long path felt anything but lifeless. With every step landed on the ground, she could sense the movement beneath the surface: swarming vile things, slippery and scaled. Unseen by the human eye, they hissed dirty little secrets and slithered with sinister hunger, drizzling down their fangs. 

‘You can already feel me inside you, can’t you sweetling…’ Remaining hidden, he had to admit that watching the little lamb leap shivering into the slaughter has been somewhat of foreplay.

A veil of fumes emitted from her parted lips. The air became colder, summoning a terrifying truth that made her lungs clench around the black void that abruptly filled them with the notion that maybe... maybe… that chill, liquid-like thing that threatened to touch her ankle wasn’t just in her crazy imagination.

There was something out there, something undeniably familiar. This unusual gust of wind brushing at her nape has accompanied her since she could remember herself, an unsettling breeze bidding that evil lurked between the creases, holding its sinewy fingers clasped together while waiting for her to answer his hushed calling.

‘And once you finally answer, there is no turning back…’ 

Fear gnawed its frosty fangs at her bones, puncturing tiny painful cavities that were needles in her flesh. Tonight, of all nights, the same hazy feeling became stronger than ever before. Deep inside, she knew she would meet her end. Pressing the oily pads of her fingers at the sharp corners of her pendant, she inhaled and chanted a prayer, refusing to succumb to the noxious malice when a frozen pin pierced her heart.

Like the lark calling on the dawn, an unbidden chant carried her name.

Drenched with frigid sweat, she exhumed a shuddering breath, praying to God that it was only her imagination playing tricks on her ears. 

‘The greatest trick he ever pulled was convincing the world he didn't exist.’

Indeed in the darkness, leered the beast. All teeth and malicious glee, August moved from one shadow to another, feasting on the aphrodisiac that was the mixture of her harrowing terror and unveiled desire. If only she knew the trail her scent left for him to follow - he could smell her from miles away. 

The little flower between her legs began blooming the moment their entities finally encountered one another, and it was his ancient name her dew had dripped for.  

‘My sweet little thing, tonight I will finally grant you a purpose...’ 

Like a hound awakened from a deep slumber, he flexed his bulging muscles and tailed her in utter silence. The same spell that burnt in her core seethed the blood gathering in his ardent loins. Since the dawn of humankind, he had more women than any other man on this earth, yet none has evoked such hunger in him. 

He would have eaten her alive and torn her to shreds if only he didn't have bigger plans for her.

Still hidden by the unnatural night, August stalked from behind, the blaze of his enkindling burn licking her path as he crept further to ensnare his prey. He wished she could see herself through his own flaring glance, how beautiful she was with tears of despair rolling down the tender slope of her cheeks. 

His beloved girl; his, by ancient law. Spirited as a rageful tempest, she insisted on escaping her prophesied fate. Muscles and bones strove against the panic that turned her boiling blood frigid. But no power, physical nor divine could revoke this otherworldly attraction that bound her to him. His bidding could never be undone and as much as his blood relished from the thrill of the chase, it was time to put an end to this dance and seal their union. 

Appearing from a stygian haze of a spectral nightmare, the beast drew his claw to grasp the fleeting girl’s shoulder.

The world froze along with the scream that died in her throat. Cold, slippery wet, the phantom serpents slinked around her ankles and held on to the ground as the thing behind her bit his nails into her collarbone. His touch was no ghost, but as real as the quiet moon that voyeured her fate from above and did nothing. A wretched gasp of anguish shuddered through her airways as his fingers stalked forth to cinch at her neck. 

His grip was tighter than the icy finger of death, yet its caress was the sensual lick of a gossamer tongue. 

It was almost as if he worshipped her. 

Shadows befell her as the assailant leaned close, wafting a mist of intoxicating fumes scented of poisonous elixirs and an ancient forest that laid deep between the veils of the underworld, hiding forbidden mysteries that none dared speak of. Seeping through her orifices, it stung her eyes and raked remorseful tears. 

“Please…” she broke into sobs, shaking her head at the dawning of her fate.

The man inhaled deeply. Though she could not see him, the joyful malice that danced on his pleased breath roared in her ears.

“Do not fear me.” The sonorous rumble caressing her ear was hardly a surprise in its familiarity.  It was him, the handsome bewhiskered gentleman from earlier. But of course, it was always him: the whisper in the dark, the slithering things moving beneath the tepid ground, and the smell of burning pyres. 

But who the hell was he?!

As if he read her mind, his hand twisted around her nape and with a careful sway, turned her to face him. The voice inside her head warned her over and over again not to look at him; yet the temptation was too great, peeling her eyes open to stare at the thing that made her heart drop to her gut.

Vast, raven wings spread from each side of an Adonis figure, their intimidating length denying her widened eyes to look at anything but the dark god that soared tall in front her. No, not a god, a devil. A pair of small golden horns peeked from the mane of long curls, and the heavenly icy gaze she remembered from earlier had melted into an abysmal lake of fire.

He was beautiful.

He was monstrous.

And just like that, she descended from the earth, swept into a thick swamp of darkness that swallowed her whole. Never letting so much as her feet kiss the ground, August scooped her into his strong arms. Peering down upon her, he broke into a delightful grin, already enamoured with his delicate new bride. The pang of lust tingled in his groin, though despite the raging need to claim her now, it was her screams he desired more than all as he would consummate their eternal marriage. 

Wicked tongues of fire licked up the shallow air, casting a faint amber glow into the abominable sombre of a vanishing nightmare. Shy as feral nymphs, the bursting sparks ascended melancholily, whispering tales of perishing days that fell to harmony with a strange mumbling chant. Still locked in a void of unconsciousness, the fallen girl shifted with disquiet, her hands restlessly clutching at a virginal silk gown that covered her body. 

Vaguely remembering a horrifying dream of a demonic entity, she woke with a sudden electric jitter. A peal of breathless pants pushed through her heaving chest before she slumped into the intense relief one experiences from a brush with either death or a ghastly fantasy. 

“Thank God…” she whispered with a fist pressed to her breast.

Yet, something was amiss. The low vocal melody continued despite her state of clarity, tangled with the eerie presence of a hundred cutting glares that stabbed her crawling spine. Slowly and carefully, she lifted her head and scanned her surroundings. 

The blood drained from her face.

Swaying like shadowy wraiths stood men cloaked in black velvet hoods. Tears of milky boiling wax trickled from the candles held by their stringy fingers, yet they didn’t seem to flinch as the burning rivulets seared their flesh. Their hollow eyes were fixated upon her while words of a dark sacrament sputtered from their lips and reverberated through the endless archways and ribbed vaults that towered above them. 

Her trembling muscles were briskly stifled under the unsettling realisation of her whereabouts - a cathedral, a thousand years old if not more. Burning torches lit crumbling pillars and statues of monstrous winged creatures that encircled them from every niche, their malicious shadows dancing upon dusty obsidian bricks. Unglazed windows were barred by black iron, the beautiful floral shapes preventing any means of escape. 

Only the fractured ceiling held a cheap shred of hope, as a vast rupture of broken stone exposed her to the scarred carmine wolf-moon.

If only she had wings…

Bones rattling beneath her crawling flesh, she sat upon the hard surface with wells of despair. Her hands clutched around the edge of the bed, only to be kissed by the sharp corners that pierced the delicate flesh. Hissing with pain, she lifted her arms and stared below at what appeared to be a midnight-black marble creased with golden veins and saplings-like patterns. 

It was beautiful, just like the creamy gown that covered her body.  

“Do you like it, bride?” 

Rising from the crowd like a flame among charred coals, appeared her handsome abductor. Suitable to a true evil prince, a long red cloak enrobed his broad, sturdy form, the velvet hem trailing behind him like a thick river of blood while he marched forward with no haste in his dauntless mien. Human once again, August offered the most endearing grin; two profound dimples embellished his scruffy cheeks, and his eyes shone brighter than a frozen sea. 

Yet in her sullen gaze, he was nothing but a monster.

Abruptly enraged and driven by pure instinct, she jumped off the marble and paced backwards. Tears of anger and fright rimmed her swollen lids and her bare feet nearly collided as she shook her head at August who was neither impressed nor concerned by this foolish protest. 

“You stay the fuck away from me!!!” She warned with a scream and hastily turned away. 

Lost in some trance, the praying mob never stirred, granting the girl a fair chance to escape the bewhiskered man who was still several strides away. Her feeble legs made three to four steps when her muscles swiftly turned to stone, and her stomach lurched. 

‘No! It couldn’t be! How?!’

Curls shining like precious coils of onyx, August emerged in front of her, continuing his relaxed gait as if this was a natural occurrence. His bright icicles melted into malicious dark pools of twisted desire, and his tongue briefly laved his plump lips at the sight of pure disbelief that cascaded over her face. He could feel right under her skin, hear the thrumming heart that both chilled and fumed for him. Further beyond her thoughts, his betrothed yearned to be defiled and torn open by him. 

It was her destiny, whether she liked it or not. 

Still she fought, so ferocious and defiant, flinching away from his attempts to seize her. It was almost comical to watch her deny him, knowing that her fate would be no different; she will spread her legs and submit to his conquest. And yet, her battle was immensely appealing; what better bride to the dark lord than a woman who breathed fire.

“Who are you?!” She cried, her trembling voice rising with panic and her cheeks soaking with tears, “What do you want from me?!”

August's face was devoid of mercy, her whimpering hisses did nothing to deter him and only further increased the appetite of the deprived wolf that circled in his gut. With a wring of his wrist, his fingers snapped at her elbow, hauling her against his rock-hard chest with such might her heels hovered above the ground. 

Writhing in his grip she flung her hands at his face, clawing streams of crimson to trickle down his cheeks. The notion of hurting this vicious man brought somewhat of a sick joy; but her onslaught died at once, and her mouth fell agape as his skin healed with not even a trace of injury. 

“Oh God, what are you?!” She shuddered. 

Still holding her elbow hostage, his free hand travelled to the hem of the white gown, the long, perverted fingers twisting around the fabric before yanking it off at once. A resounding rip echoed through the tall arches, causing the chanting choir to halt their susurrations at once. 

All eyes were afloat as the cold air kissed her skin. In vain, she attempted to cover herself only to be felled by the restraints of August’s grasp. 

“God?...” The man finally spoke, his melodic voice ending with a sonorous hum that sprouted through her arteries like a deadly toxin. Not less poisonous, his gaze trailed down her form, worshipping the very sights of his delightful prize. 

“Not God, but once I was an angel,” he suggested and leaned down to inhale her skin with a gratified growl before he flicked his wide tongue at her chest.

A groan of approval emitted from his lips, the sheer coat of sweat that layered her bosom was soaked of freshly brewed fear, his most favourite savour. His wet, velvety snake swept the sweet-briny wetness and licked further down her breasts, twirling around the erect nipple.

Unintended, she moaned. A river of delights rushed between her grinding thighs.

“No!”

Wrongful, unwanted bliss awoke in her. She felt desecrated and allured at once. Her fickle body deceived, mistaking this vile conquest as consensual. And the more August took, the more she desired; her dutiful womb demanded to consummate this bond, almost as if the beast had bewitched her a long while ago, embedding his essence in the marrow of her bones. 

August grinned against her skin, the scent of her arousal fresh in his nose while his lips travelled to kiss down her sternum and the slope of her torso. His thick whiskers left a trail of fluttering butterflies.

“Have sympathy, my love. I had built my own realm and waited in the forlorn abyss. Empires fell and worlds disintegrated into ashes while I waited for thou,” he explained and clutched the cheek of her behind in his claw, squeezing it possessively. “I have longed for your touch since the day your ancestor promised you to me, little lamb. A hundred years’ worth of waiting for the bargain to reach its end, and for you to finally be ripe.” 

The beast pressed one last languid kiss below her navel, a guttural hum exuded in between his lips, huffing hot against her belly. Slowly he rose to his full height, towering above his helpless victim who hugged her arms to cover her naked body and watched her nightmare unfold once more. Cold wind chilled her damp cheeks as August flung the blood-red cloak and exposed his naked figure before her.  

He was massive, a masculine build fit for a warrior angel, covered with thick bulging muscles and dark hair. Lips parted, she forgot herself, gawking in awe and allowing her gaze to trail down to his unapologetically monstrous cock. Firm and throbbing, it dripped with hunger, urging to find release inside her clenching cavern.

She didn’t even know a man could be this vast, but alas, he was no man at all.

It was at that moment when blackest wings spread before her that realisation finally struck through like a blunt hammer to the back of her head. Covering her mouth she cowered away, her exposed back hitting the raised altar behind her. 

August was no man nor god, but Lucifer himself. 

Seeing the hope die in her eyes, the devil sneered. 

“No, no, no! This can’t be real! This isn’t real!!!” She yelled, pathetic little hiccups sputtering from her lips.

August tilted his head, giving a scornful pout and scoffed with amusement. “Am I not?” He asked as he lifted an arm to flick his fingers, summoning two of the hooded servants to approach the dais. Their eyes were soulless gems embedded to a grey face that was cracked like a broken eggshell. 

“I am real, beloved, as real as the child you will conceive me tonight.” 

Shrills of terror flew through the great hole in the ceiling. Kicking and screaming, she fought as the men seized her arms and dragged her to the altar, forcing her flat down and holding her arms to prevent her from escaping. They never blinked at the ferocious war she waged against them, though an impish smile slowly possessed their faces as their master strode forward. 

“Sweet little lamb,” August chanted, enamoured with his fiery bride while he sauntered by the edge of the altar. His Adonis body golden in the candlelight, his fingers squeezed and pumped the ravenous demon that hung heavy between his legs. The twinge in her womb rose in response, a low roar thrumming as it yearned to succumb to its unbridled purpose. Sheen, the arousal trickled between her kicking legs and onto the smooth stone, making her cheek flame.

Much to August’s pleasure. 

“Our son will burn this world to cinders,” he promised and snaked his fingers at her ankles. Calmly deflecting her attempts to kick against him, he dragged her toward him until her knees folded over the edge and spread between his thighs. The platform was in the perfect height, positioning her delicious Eden at the height of his blessed demon. 

“You will make an excellent mother.”

Her entire body shook, her cunt clenching along her sobs in both defence and beguiling need as August leaned in and grazed the silky pink crown between her wet petals. She begged he wouldn’t be able to invade her, but her prayers fell to deaf ears.    

“Please don’t do this to me! I will do anything… please!” She wailed a bargain, still trying to escape the servants’ grip and looking at him pleadingly, “I… I...haven’t been with a man!”

“Oh I know…” August beamed and stroked himself back and forth between her engorged lips. Vamping flames tingled at her flesh, her core foolishly squeezing around nothing in demand for this wretched monster to defile her.  

“You’ve kept yourself for me, didn't you? I have waited for you too, for centuries even, but now our waiting has ended, and I can finally love you.”

With one brutal thrust, he breached through the gates of her sacred haven, corrupting her purity and ripping her open with the elegance of a savage. 

Exasperated bats fluttered their wings over the red moon at the sound of her pained howl. Eyes flared to the bleak sky above; the girl watched them in a daze, disbelieving the blazing demon that scorched her from inside as he nestled himself between her resisting gates with no intention to cease. 

In his villainy, August pushed further. Stunned thunders of ecstasy erupted from his lips, all to humiliate her along with the dark minions who circled the altar to pervertedly witness this sacrilegious ritual in which their master ravaged the unwilling maiden. Ignoring her body’s vehement protest, he forced himself unfathomably deep, only stopping until the head of his cock kissed the gateway of her cervix.

Crystalised tears rolled down her temples and stained the cold marble beneath her body. Slit impossibly sore, she twitched and sobbed at the overwhelming feeling of being invaded by another entity. Her once protected realm was now under the domain of a ruthless prince, and he took no prisoners and granted no mercy nor care at her vain endeavours to push him out. 

He would never stop. He would have her again and again until her sacred little womb would be plentiful with his seed. 

“Tight,” he blurted out in a blissful huff and reached his talons to bite into her quaking thighs. Spreading her wider, he hooked his hands below her knees, moulding her into a vessel to be fulfilled. Arctic orbs glazed down her naked figure, his plump lips cooing at her aching whimpers. The taut and hairy muscles of his gut flexed as he carefully withdrew his vicious cock, coated in the crimson sorrow of her maidenhood.

Hollow pain throbbed in her empty cunt as he suddenly abandoned her. Distressed and overwhelmed, she hoped he would stay out, yet her traitorous body coveted his return in a false faith that it would ease the fervid twinge that soared to her belly and even burnt in her breasts.

It was far from true.

No less vigorous than before, August plunged back inside her, stretching her again, shaping her as his own as she yipped and struggled to escape. His head threw back with a roar of divine pleasure, feasting at the thrill of her dauntless veils wrapping around him like a succulent flower. For a moment there, he wondered who preyed on who. Her concupiscent little cove sucked him so wantonly it threatened to swallow his raging cock. 

‘But of course, every virgin is destined to become my whore.’

Hot and heavy, his shaft seized the void that had always been inside her, their heaving organs collided in euphoric bliss like two broken shards that were lost for decades and finally pieced back together. And even though she seared with every jerk or shift he made, the impassioned flames licked at the seams of her twitching cunt in waves of ache and foreign desperation. 

“No…” she whispered, shame singeing her throat as the little pesky sparks enkindled where the devil had violated her. Vision blurry, she gazed at him utterly mystified. Part of her warred to stoke the fire that screamed heresy, while the other begged to yield to her demise.   

As August pulled away again and thrust harder, a breathless moan tore from her lips.    

A cutting grin radiated onto his face. “It feels so good inside you,” he sang and slid one hand to stroke all the way down from her sweat-ridden thighs to her belly, feeling the movement of his cock with every push and shove. 

He was taunting her, yet she couldn’t care less. Over the cinders of pain and virtue, a garden began to bloom. With every abysmal stroke of his swelling shaft, she could feel green saplings and coy vines growing within her uterus—soft, beautiful tendrils stalked through her arteries, sprouted through her cove, and engulfed his swelling demon as well.

She was no longer burning but becoming alive. Pained cries suddenly evolved into asphyxiation of bliss. Beyond her realisation, she undulated her hips in the desire to endure each of his wet claiming thrusts. Her spine coiled against the surface, further allowing him easier passage to nourish the wilderness that continued spreading through her blood. 

Noticing the change in her, approving groans rumbled in his throat; his little bride was growing tighter around his demon, her quivering lips and fluttering lashes the image of true Elysium. It was not long before he would plant his seed in her fertile lush. Her cunt milked and suckled around him, demanding to be bred by the devil. 

“Yes, my love! Give in to me! Give in to your primal sin!” August urged, enhancing the rhythm until he was thrusting into her like a battering ram, the sinful elixir of their union smearing on his groin and dripping down her rump. “Descend with me!” 

In her delirium she witnessed magical nightshades and sinewy stalks growing amidst the gritty bricks, encompassing the ominous cathedral with bright colours. 

It was paradise on earth, given to her by the unearthly rapturous joy of having this demon violate her, slamming harder with growing frustration until his thick girth ripped through the last threads of her self-preservation and that which she tried so hard to deny erupted through her clenching core.

Euphoria. 

For a lingering moment, she had wings of her own, pale as precious pearls and lustrous stars. Tingling waves of ethereal white heat burst at her seams, purifying her as she flew above the cathedral, and watched their ungodly union from above. But her wings suddenly caught aflame and before she knew it, she crashed onto the earth with a secondary, more violent climax. 

The beast’s roars erupted into a brutal thunder, causing the sturdy pillars of the cathedral to quake and crack like thin glass. With all his might, he clutched her thighs and hauled her against him, slamming his swollen cock deep into her belly and releasing his smouldering, milky essence until it seeped from her sleek. August’s wings flew open as he found his own rapture, blazes following through and consuming the ancient hall. 

This was no longer a hallucination. 

This was Inferno.

Still radiating with orgasmic glow, she screamed horrified as everything around them vehemently burnt to coals. Even the soulless servants crumbled into dust, accepting their fate without so much of a yip. The fire raged and died within seconds, leaving nothing but broken pillars and ashen smoke.  

Shortly, the tepid air of night caressed her naked skin as they remained alone in the ruins of what was once an ominous cathedral. Still buried in her viscera, August broke into a low, stretching groan of relief which made her immediately return her eyes to him. Shame rose bitter in her throat and new fresh rivulets trickled on her cheeks.  

After all that he had done to her, she could see nothing in him but a beautiful monster.

“My beloved queen,” August keened to comfort her and moved his hand to tenderly stroke her lower belly. 

A toothy smile broke upon his face, his eyes gleaming with surprise as he felt the life that had already begun growing in her angelic fortress. A son, strong and glorious as his father. For the first time in his long existence, the devil was truly elated and he vowed in that moment that he would give her much, and much more. But first, she needed to be cared for. 

Her assaulted hole convulsed with pain as he pulled himself out, leaving a trail of creamy fluids to dribble at his departure. Sniffling and shaking, she watched him bemused, as he climbed onto the altar and moved to lie beside her. Though she no longer flinched as he touched her, what was the point of it anyway? He had already destroyed her and stolen her innocent soul.  

“You make me so happy, my beloved queen,” August had murmured as he gripped her jaw and pressed his lips to hers. His kiss claimed her breath, pillaging whatever left of her chastity and wit until she absentmindedly kissed back, forgetting herself as his tongue bested her will. 

When he broke away, the taste of spiced ruby wine and blood lingered in her mouth. 

“An eternity awaits us,” the devil explained as he pecked her nose and her forehead lovingly, to which she shivered - out of fright or out of want, she couldn’t tell the difference anymore.

“You had made me the happiest, now give me the chance to grant the same favour, ask for anything you want in the world and it shall be yours,” he begged and wrapped her in the shelter of his strong arms to lie down with him on the smooth stone surface.

Absentmindedly, she welcomed the protection offered from his embrace and stared silently as flakes of cement broke from the remnants of the wall floated in the air around her before she opened her mouth. 

“I wish for…” 

Her whisper faded into the dark.

*Disclaimer: I do not own Mission Impossible or August Walker

Beautiful dividers by @firefly-graphics​

[yunopouts]

with you - l. jeno (600 special)

-> pairing: soft dom! jeno x fem reader

-> genre: filth smut, fluff

-> warnings: unprotected sex, oral (f & m receiving), biting, fingering, handjob, overstimulation, creampie

-> word count: 1.1k

-> requested? yeah

-> a/n: like always, please be safe when you're actually having sex to decrease your chance of getting an STI. also, please make sure you pee after said sex so you can avoid that urinary tract infection. everything in this is fictional, obviously, and please always make sure your partner has consented with everything you do to them. also i think this one might be slightly more detailed than usual lol. to the anon that requested this, i hope this is what you wanted. if not, sorry about that ://

anyways, thank you for 600 followers, love you guysss :P

-

“Jesus Christ.” You spoke through gritted teeth as you struggled with the lock on your door. As you jiggled the doorknob, the arms around your waist tightened their grip and lips pressed hot kisses down your neck, his breath sending shivers down your spine. “Oh, thank god.” You breathed, swinging the door open. It was dark, the only light that came from the hallway was soon cut off as Jeno slammed it shut once the two of you were inside.

Pushing you to the wall, the boy continued working on your neck, moving down as he sucked on your skin. His fingers found the hem of your dress and slid his hands up your thighs, bringing the material up. Pulling it over your head, he giggled at your needy state before coming closer. He cracked your mouth open with his thumb and licked a stripe up your tongue before attaching his swollen lips to yours. The smooth palms of his hands slid down your bare back, goosebumps forming wherever he touched.

When he made it to your ass, he kneaded the flesh before grabbing the lace of your underwear. He pulled and let it snap against your skin, causing you to breakaway and yelp. Jeno just smirked and gripped your chin, his dark eyes staring deep into your own. “Fuck.” He uttered before he licked his lips, your hands now exploring the painfully hard tent in his pants. With one hand you managed to undo his belt, but you undid his pants when you knelt down in front of him.

“You haven’t done this in a while? You sure you want to do it?” he cocked a brow.

Looking up at him as you pulled his boxers down, you said, “I want to feel you, Jeno.” With a groan, Jeno smoothed your hair back as you took his cock in his mouth. Your tongue was soft against his dick, and somehow found it comforting at the warm feeling of him hitting the back of your throat. With his hand controlling your movements by your hair, he pushed you until your nose was touching his stomach. You moaned against him, the pressure your finger was putting on your clit becoming too much, reaching your first orgasm. The buzzing feeling of your mouth on him caused his hips to jerk forward, hitting a little too far back.

When you pulled back, Jeno pulled you up from your knees, cupping your cheeks in his big hands. “Are you okay? I’m so sorry.” He moved the hair away from your face as you nodded. “That felt really good though.” He winked down at you, butterflies crowding everywhere you could possibly feel anything. He kissed you once more before traveling down to your clothed core.

Hooking around the thin material and tugged them down. You stepped out of them before he rested your leg over his shoulder, his body underneath you acting as your new sense of balance. Jeno flicked your clit, sending a shock of pain and pleasure. You didn’t know where to place your hands, so they grabbed at the flat wall, but one of your hands accidentally smacked the light switch.

“What the-” Jeno blinked, both of your eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness.

“Sorry, ah.” You sucked in a breath, meeting Jeno’s sparkling orbs as he placed his tongue on your clit. Slowly swirling around your pussy, your juices trickled down the muscle into his throat, and he was enjoying every single drop of it. Your addicting flavour only made him want to push you farther until you were shaking on top of him. Trailing up your thigh, his long fingers reached your hole, daring to enter you. “Jeno please.” You mewl, getting even louder once he put them inside you. “Thank you.” You sighed out, eyes shutting in relief. Sucking on your pussy, he pumped two slender fingers inside of you, curling at random, but he hit the perfect spot each time. His movements grew faster as you begged him to do so, clenching around him as you neared your second orgasm. Jeno’s moans from jerking himself off added to your finish, the boy humming as you both came.

He chuckled as he moved back to towering above you, pulling you closer by the hips, his erection prodding at your upper thigh. “I love you.” You smiled, caressing his soft cheek. After uttering those words, the harsh glint in his eyes disappeared quickly and he stared at you like you were the only thing that mattered. Leaning forward, your boyfriend set a soft kiss on your lips, your hand sliding behind his neck, forcing him into a deeper kiss.

Guiding your legs around his waist, he carried you into the bedroom, where he gently placed you down on to the plush mattress. He kissed you as he worked to take off your bra, flinging it somewhere once he did. Bodies on to of one another, you kissed, tongues and teeth mangling together while Jeno fixed his cock at your entrance. Gasping as he slid himself in, Jeno took his time to explore your mouth, sucking on your tongue and nibbling on your bottom lip. “Fuck, Jeno, you feel so good.” You moaned loudly when your boyfriend found your nipple, the warmth of his tongue sending pleasures down to your core. Clenching around his cock, Jeno’s eyes rolled, and his hips moved faster against yours. When he pulled away, he brought his thumb to your nub and pressed down, a sob involuntarily ripping from your throat. “Hmm, gonna cum?” Jeno asked.

His pink tongue poked out from in between his teeth, offering you a lazy smirk as he ran his fingers through his jet-black hair, in a failed attempt to push it away from his forehead. The dim light of the bedside lamp made him look like he was glowing. That was enough to make you cum, letting out a string of curses as your walls tightened around Jeno’s cock. In that moment, you might’ve done a double take because of how ethereal he looked, if you weren’t being fucked absolutely dumb. Jeno leaned your leg over his shoulder and drove his dick into you at a very new, very deep angle that had you screaming his name. “Fuck me.” His eyes shut when he came inside you, flashes of white appearing behind his eyelids.

“Shit, that felt so good.” He laughed deeply opening his eyes to your reaching your arms out for him, ready to wrap your arms around his neck. Happily, he flopped down into your touch and nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. “I love you.” He mumbled, feeling how your chest rose and fell heavily in pattern with his.

“I’m so in love with you.” Was all you heard before drifting off to sleep.

[modx-reborn]

This might be a horrible request but:

Techno spoiling amab s/o with tons of gold jewelry, but s/o is kind of sad that they don’t have anything to give back to him, so they arrange a plane, one day when Techno comes back home from wherever and whatever the hell he does, he finds s/o waiting for him, naked in bed and wearing all of the gold jewelry he got for them.

-💠

💠 this is fantastic, I love it!

You are haunted by the need to return the acts of care your dear Piglin has shown you, every gift, every kind word, every moment he spent with you filling your head as you try to come up with a gift of equal worth and care as what he has given to you.

There were endless amounts of his gifts gathering up in your ender chest golden bangles and chains made with care by your partner, they had barely been worn let alone seen in the daylight, they were so beautiful and one of these days you would have a reason to wear them, to watch Technoblades eyes go wide as he came to look at you glimmering and shining as you wait for him.

And now you have the perfect time to don them, to make him watch as you come to greet him, glimmering gold hidden under one of his red robes, rings adorning each finger and chis hidden under the cloth clinking gently together as you welcome him in and coax him into your room. Or maybe you would don them all and wait, pretty and shiny in his bed, naked as the day you were born, his perfect boy waiting for him.

Yes, that was it, you would wait sit and wait for him to finally come home and see how good you looked in his gifts.

It wasn't that long a wait, in the end, you were barely done clipping the last chain in place as the door slammed open. Calls of your name and clanking tools dropped with little care the telltale sign that he was home, that this was it.

Oh, how it was worth it.

The light from the hall hit all the gold perfectly, making them glimmer and sparkle as you reached forward, hands covered in the riches Techno had given you, a beacon of his ownership with every gift you could get on covering your skin. Bless his restraint as he approaches, hands so gentle as they trace the edge of the bangles that are clasped around your upper arms, trailing up as he comes to cup your jaw.

Tilting your head up to watch him, keeping your eyes trained on his as he moves downwards, tugging on the chain that connected the piercings you had to the golden collar, smirking when you whine, shushing your noises before they could even start as he continues the trail down. Pressing the palm of his hand just shy of where your lay, hard and leaking against your won stomach.

"Look at my pretty boy, wearing my gifts, waiting for me in my bed, looking so sweet and pretty like this. Should get you something to cover your cock and take you out like this, let everyone see how good you look wearing my gold, or maybe I will hide your clothes and make you greet me like this every day..."

[twistsandtwizzles]

First Kiss #1: Don't Want You Like a Best Friend

Prompt: Mariah has not had sex in almost two years. Maybe Nathan can help with that.

(Author's Note: As they say on NPR: this story acknowledges the existence of sex. Obviously. You know, given the prompt.)

When her friends drop her off, after she has had maybe one margarita too many, she has every intention of just going to bed. But her place is too quiet and empty, even with the animals there, and she feels like she is going to crawl out of her skin if she spends another night alone. 

It has been too many nights, alone. She tries to do the math, figure out how long it has been since Romain left for France, way back before her world imploded, but concludes it doesn’t matter. Because however long it has been, she is alone, and wherever he is, he is not. And why is that fair?

It’s not, she thinks as she lets Nala out. It’s not fair at all. 

She’d said as much to her friends at dinner, as she was finishing that second drink that she shouldn’t have ordered.

Which is when her friends suggested she call Nathan.

Mariah had scoffed, of course, because Nathan? No. That would be weird, right? 

Except now, standing here in her house that is too damn quiet, she is unable to get the idea out of her head.

It’s not like she’s never thought about it, from a purely theoretical standpoint. She’s not blind, after all. And she feels it when he lands his quad lutz, that tug of attraction that comes with watching a World Champion do the thing he was built to do. She’s had the urge, once or twice, to reach over and push those curls on his forehead back into place. And sometimes he’ll flash her a smile, one of the ones that also makes his eyes sparkle, and her stomach does a flip.

But he’s Nathan, and she’s Mariah, and what she is considering right now is not what they do.

Why not, though? she thinks, lust and loneliness and tequila taking charge. Maybe this would actually be perfect. Because they know each other so well. And they trust each other. She could officially move on, with a friend, and it wouldn’t have to be a whole big thing.

(And as a bonus, it would make Romain crazy. Not that she cares.)

She’s starting to wish that she had gotten one more drink.

Plus she’s seen Nathan, over the years, watching her when he thinks she’s not looking. She has pretended not to notice when a hug maybe lingered a bit too long, or when he laughed at one of her jokes that wasn’t at all funny. So she’s relatively certain that he would be receptive to the idea, if she suggested it. 

Which she won’t.

Except now she can’t stop thinking about running her fingers along his hard, flat stomach. How it would feel to have his nimble hands trace her spine. Or how much she wants - needs - to be kissed. 

It’s been so. long. since she was kissed.

She could just see if he’s still awake, she tells herself, pulling out her phone. Just . . . dip a toe in.

Hey, is all her text says.

Her phone lights up with his response just seconds later. How was girls night? he asks. Because of course he remembers where she was. Because Nathan pays attention. Why has she never realized what an attractive quality that is before now?

It was fun. She adds, We talked about you

Why? Good things I hope

Only good things always. She throws in a winky face emoji, then a kissy face emoji for good measure.

Ha ok, he says. Glad you had fun

You should come over

So much for just dipping a toe in.

You should go to bed, he replies.

She composes her invitation again, more explicitly this time. Her thumb hovers over the screen, hesitating just for a second. Then she hits send.

The three dots appear, then disappear - then appear and disappear again. Her stomach drops.

Her phone rings. Thank god.

“Are you drunk?” he says, as soon as she picks up.

“Are you coming over?” she replies.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“I think it’s a great idea,” she says. “I think it’s a fantastic idea, actually. Don’t you think that it’s time we finally do this?”

“Finally?” he echoes. 

“You’ve never thought about it?” she says, trying to sound like a confident, sexy woman who invites men over for hookups all the time. “I promise it will be fun.”

“Of course I’ve -” He stops himself, and she is thrilled to hear him sound flustered. To know that she has made one of the most unflappable people in the world flustered. He starts again. “I wonder if maybe we should talk about this more first.”

“Nathan,” she sighs, “All we do is talk. Just come over.” 

She hangs up.

For a moment, she is frozen. She allows herself exactly thirty seconds to spiral: about her lack of experience with anyone but Romain, about what this could mean for her and Nathan’s friendship. And then she takes a deep breath and squares her shoulders and shuts it all out, like she’s about to take the ice. Focuses only on the next thing. Because she is doing this. They are doing this.

She puts Nala in her kennel for the night, checks on the bunnies, makes sure her room isn’t a complete disaster. She stops and studies herself in the mirror. She’s still in the gauzy black top and skinny jeans she wore to dinner, her hair straightened and out of her usual ponytail. She rummages through her makeup drawer, puts on some lipstick. Immediately wipes it off. 

She is pacing in the living room, trying to figure out exactly how one greets their booty call who also happens to be their best friend, when he knocks.

He looks like he has just rolled out of bed - another thing that sends a small thrill through her, that he has come straight to her doorway simply because she asked him to - wearing his glasses and a t-shirt and sweats, a baseball cap covering what she’s sure is an out-of-control head of hair. He bounces a little on the soles of his feet, hands shoved in his pockets, like he’s not quite sure what to do with himself.

Frankly, now that he’s here, she’s not quite sure what to do with him either.

“Hi,” he says.

“Hi.” She tries to channel the fictional, I’ve-done-this-before version of herself again, even though she is positive he can hear her heart pounding. “Are you coming in?”

He steps inside, closes the door behind him, and lingers in the entryway. They stand there in silence.

“You look amazing,” he says, and she watches the color immediately rise in his cheeks after he speaks. She’s realizing that making Nathan flustered is going to become one of her favorite things.

“Thanks.”

More silence.

“For some reason I thought this would be less awkward,” she says finally.

“I didn’t,” he shoots back.

She laughs, and he smiles, and she relaxes a bit. If she can get him to smile, this is all going to be fine. They wander into the kitchen, Nathan keeping a respectful distance, as if he is still not entirely sure what he is doing there. She wonders if she should be offering him a drink.

He clears his throat. “So your text, uh, surprised me.” She can see the question swirling in his eyes - do you really want to do this? - as well as the answer that he is hoping for.

She takes a few steps forward, closing the space between them. “Honestly?” she says, “It kind of surprised me, too. But in a really good way.”

She reaches up and takes his cap off of his head. God, these curls, she thinks as his mop of dark hair springs forward, and she is unable to stop herself from running her hand through them.

He inhales sharply at the contact and his hand comes up to rest on her hip as if by reflex. Her skin hums at being touched, even through the layers of fabric. 

“You came over, though,” she continues. She is still playing with his hair, and his eyes close briefly as her hand brushes the side of his neck. She files that away for later. “I’m assuming not just to talk.”

“No,” he says, hand moving to the small of her back. “I guess not.”

When he kisses her, there’s no sign of the Nathan who had seemed so unsure just minutes before. It’s not what she expected from him, and she has a brief spark of envy for whoever it was that helped him learn to kiss like this, so sure and so confident. And then his hands are skimming the skin just under the hemline of her shirt and oh she had forgotten how good this felt.

She reaches up to cup his cheek and giggles when she hits his glasses, knocking them askew. “Sorry,” she says breathlessly, leaning back slightly to try and readjust them. He yanks them off instead, half-tossing them on the counter, before pulling her back into him.

She can feel every place he touches on her body light up, his hands activating an electric current within her. She tugs impatiently at the bottom of his t-shirt, is surprised when he puts his hand over hers to stop her.

“Maybe, um, not here,” he says, blushing again as he gestures to the large window across from them and the blinds she has forgotten to close. She laughs and takes his hand, leading the way to her room.

The sight of her bed stops them both short for a moment, the magnitude of what they are about to do crashing into them. She sees some uncertainty creep back into his eyes as he glances at the bed, then at her, and she says softly, “We don’t have to do anything, Nate.” She looks down at their interlaced hands, runs her thumb along his knuckle. “I know this is crazy.”

“It’s not crazy to me.” He gives her a small half-smile. “You were right, on the phone, that I’ve thought about this. Thought about us.”

The look in his eyes sends her heart slamming into her chest. “Oh,” she breathes.

“And you’re - you’re really important to me,” he continues. “I just don’t want to do anything that will screw things up.”

She kisses him, hard, because she doesn’t know how else to tell him that he is important to her too, that she doesn’t know what is going to happen tomorrow but she knows that this, right now, feels like something they should have been doing forever. “We’ll figure it out,” is what she manages to say. “We’ll be okay.”

This time he lets her lift his t-shirt over his head, chuckles self-consciously as she takes her time admiring the sculpted muscles she finds beneath it. They topple onto the mattress, melting into each other’s touch and peeling off layers of clothing, and she wonders if this feels so good because it has been so long or because it is him. He flicks his thumb over her nipple and she arches into his palm, and he flashes her a smug smile.

In return, she nips at the sensitive spot she discovered under his ear, and when he groans she gives him a smirk of her own. It is exhilarating, seeing these new facets of a person she knows so well, learning how to make his body respond to her touch. 

She wrestles his sweatpants off of his hips, and he digs a condom out of a pocket before kicking them off the rest of the way. “Okay?” he asks, gently. She nods, breathes out a yes. He moves over her, a deep kiss smothering the moan that escapes her when his fingers reach her between her legs.

He pauses, on his elbows above her, his curls spilling every direction. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers. She will never forget the way he is looking at her in this moment.

They move together, trading kisses and falling into rhythm, her legs wrapping around him, pulling him closer, deeper. As she comes apart she gasps his name, her fingernails digging into his back. He follows shortly after, forehead pressed against hers, and she plants a kiss on the corner of his mouth.

She sleeps curled against him, her hand splayed across his chest, comforted by the rise and fall of his steady breathing. When she wakes a few hours later, he is watching her, and she smiles at him sleepily.

“Hi,” he says. He returns her smile but the wariness is back in his eyes, and she knows what he is half-waiting for her to say. That this was fun but it shouldn’t happen again; that they are better off as just friends. That this doesn’t change anything.

She could say those things. It would maybe be easier. But she finds that she wouldn’t mean any of it. 

“Maybe next time, you can buy me dinner first,” she teases instead. “Like a proper gentleman.”

He lets out a surprised laugh. “Excuse me, but I think that I am the person who has been used for their body in this situation. Maybe you should be buying me dinner.”

“Mmm, is that so?” she asks, kissing him lightly. She leans back and touches his face, wanting him to see that she really means the next thing that she says. “I would like that, though. To go on a date. With you.”

His face lights up. “Yeah?”

She nods, and he pulls her in for another kiss. She is not sure where to begin untying the knot of emotions she feels, or how they are going to navigate this, but the idea of going back to who they were yesterday feels even more impossible.

We’ll be okay, she thinks, as she swings her leg over his hip and draws him closer. We’ll be okay.