#but jumping back and forth on whether to give him full red hair or not. not sure whether to develop his character more

[themanwhomadeamonster]

🤔

[shorkbrian]

If you are still taking requests, I love me some fucky villian noncon. What about Dabi or Shigaraki kidnapping a hero’s gf/wife and sending the hero a tape of their fun playtime together.

you said Dabi or Shigs but like...

Why not both?

It’ll be a handful (by handful I mean 20-30 files) of short clips, nothing too long.

Shigaraki holding the camera while Dabi makes you sit on his face, stapled hands clamped on your thighs and forcing you to ride his mouth. Dabi thinks it’s cute how whiny and trembly and weak you are, begging to lay down or have a break. If your hands weren’t tied with a cute pink ribbon and fastened to the headboard, you’d be pulling at Dabi’s hair, trying to get his tongue away from your throbbing, puffy little overworked hole.

You can’t hold yourself up! Collapsing forward puts you embarrassingly close to Dabi’s naked cock, but you’re so tired and shaky that it’s impossible to do anything but pant all hot nd wet against Dabi’s stomach. The scarred man mumbles something about how he could cum just like that, with you breathin towards his cock, but all you feel is the movement of lips and the vibration of words and you’re gone.

The sound of Shigaraki fisting his cock is clear over the snickering and derogatory commentary he’s offering, zooming in on the tongue working between your legs as you shake and cry. He sounds so pleased and proud, a cute little hero wife getting soiled and ravaged by two nasty villains. You’ll never be the same, you’re dirty now. 

The next clip is of Shigaraki fucking you, your legs tied to a spreader bar. Greasy white hair swings back and forth over your face as the man grunts, fucking into you with quick fast strokes. He has to keep pulling out to work his cock through your folds to stop himself from cumming too soon. Plus, it’s fun to hear you squeak when the tip of his cock nudges against your clit.

They won’t give you the mercy of a gag to help you retain your dignity. No, all of your noises are heard, from when they’re hesitant to when they’re completely fucked out, sounding like you’re starring in a cheesy porn.

The videos that follow focus heavily on your body. 

Specifically, what your body looks likes with cum all over it.

How engorged and red your clit looks, cum seeping from your pussy and trickling down to your ass. Shigaraki holds your legs apart while Dabi uses one hand to spread your folds, the other hand working the camera. They want to show off how messy you get.

With cum all over your face, instructed to open your mouth and stick out your tongue, creamy, translucent threads webbing in your hair and across your cheeks, striping your nose and dripping off your eyelashes. 

Shigaraki likes rubbing all the cum into your skin, shooting his load onto your belly or your tits just so Dabi can film him massaging it until you’re sticky and gross all over. You complain and beg and reason, try to understand why they're doing this, but neither man cares about the words coming out of your mouth. It gets annoying after a while, so a couple of the clips show you getting your throat stuffed full of dick before the go back to Shigaraki gleefully putting his grimy little hands all over your body.

A lot of the clips are utterly humiliating, the boys forcing you into compromising positions.

Having you lay down on the bed and hold a wand to your own pussy with one hand while using the other to jack off Dabi’s cock into your open mouth. If the wand drops away, Dabi skull-fucks you, drool everywhere, lots of choking, pain, and tears. You make sure the wand stays firmly whirring against your skin, even after it hurts because you can’t stop gushing around it and your muscles are tired.

They fuck you up against windows, one of them filming your body getting rocked back and forth against the glass, tits squished, legs shaking as you get pounded to tears.

You get dressed in cutesy lingerie, but they’ve modified it, cut holes for your nipples and a little slit in your panties so they can slide their cock right up into your cunt like that's what you were made for.

But other times, you’re forced into a tight pair of stockings, forced to face the camera and clench your legs together so Dabi can fuck between your thighs, let the seam of your stockings rub against the top of his dick and subsequently, your cunt. Listen to you whimper and complain that you don’t want to do this until Dabi presses his cock to your hole through the stockings, seeing how far he can push the sheer fabric before it breaks and snaps against your cunt.

The last clip is the longest, more than two hours of footage.

It starts out in a dim room, shows you already stripped naked and on a bed with Shigaraki. You’re begging him, sitting on your heels in front of him as he holds your hands. You aren’t trying to pull your hands away, not towards yourself, but you’re trying to pull them towards his cock, and Shigaraki won’t let you.

It’s unclear whether they’ve drugged you or not.

The camera adjusts a bit, and then Dabi’s walking into the frame and towards the both of you. Immediately, your attention turns to him and his nudity, almost tripping over yourself as you tear away from Shigaraki to meet Dabi at the edge of the bed.

You’re almost crying, a hand dipping between your legs for you to hump against as you tearfully ask Dabi if you can ride him. If he’ll let you use his big cock so you can fuck yourself real good, until you feel all tingly and nice and fuzzy. Shigaraki’s being so mean, not letting you touch him!

Dabi laughs, catches your face in his hands and plan ts a kiss on your nose before saying yes. He barely gets himself situated on the bed before you’re pouncing on him, spreading your legs like a little breeding whore and sinking down on him with the sweetest look of ecstasy on your face - mouth open, eyes half rolled back into your head, cheeks flushed.

Shigaraki sits up so he can lean over and shove his hand up against where you’re fucking yourself on Dabi’s cock. The camera doesn’t really pick it up, but it’s clear by the way you jump and squeal and giggle that Shigaraki is doing something you like, moving his hand back and forth.

They start laying out the rest of their plans for the day, how it involves lazing around in bed and letting you fuck yourself dumb. Dabi even has Viagra in case you grow too insatiable.

At some point, they talk about how they're both going to fuck your pretty little cunt, and you cum right then and there, moaning high and girlish as your body looses itself.

It’s only four minutes into the video.

[theringers]

marked up - charles leclerc

summary: you meet him at a club & take him home, but it turns out you both like to be in charge

warnings: 18+ NSFW, lots & lots, read at ur own risk, rough sex

You were surrounded by the loud boom of the DJ and the sweaty bodies of your friends as you all danced together in the club. You had been vacationing in London and met up with a group of guys at the club.

You had taken a liking to one of them, stealing glances across the room and winking whenever he got the opportunity to.

He walked over to you and held out his hand. “I’m Charles,” he said. “Great to meet you.”

You introduced yourself to him and continued talking. You learned about what he does for a living and where he’s from and you shared the same information about yourself with him.

Later in the night, the club began to get packed with more people. You would think that the crowd would die down the later it got, but apparently it’s the opposite.

He leaned in and whispered in your ear. "What do you say we get out of here?"

You nodded, at a loss for words. You’re never at a loss from words after that much alcohol. He grabbed your hand and slowly led you towards the exit of the club, hoping to not cause a stir with your group.

You pass the bouncer and give him a wave as you leave and start to follow the streets of London. You never knew how beautiful this city could truly be. You were unsure in the moment of whether it was the alcohol in your system or the hand you were holding.

You could tell Charles had a bit to drink as well. You continued to hear him speak French under his breath here and there, even though he knew you didn't speak it. You giggled and looked at him which caught his attention. "What's so funny?" He smiled.

You shook your head slowly. "Nothing. You're cute, that's all." You directed your gaze back down to the sidewalk.

He muttered under his breath again, but this time it was definitely English. "I'm not gonna be cute in a couple minutes now," he said quietly, and laughed.

"What was that?" You asked, hoping to get him to repeat himself so you could acknowledge what he said. Instead, he just shook his head and kept walking.

The streets of London were still surprisingly packed at this hour. Friends wandered down streets and alleyways laughing like this was a regular night for them. This certainly felt like a regular night out for you, but you felt safer even despite your state of inebriation.

Charles looked just as in awe of the surroundings as you did. "Is this your first time in London?" He asked. His hand was still tangled with yours when he began to swing your arms back and forth like a child.

"Yes, actually. And it's living up to my expectations for sure." You smiled at him.

"I'm glad it is. I've been here a few times," he stopped and stumbled over his own feet, almost bringing you to the ground with him.

You broke out in laughter and clapped your hands together as he looked at you in shame. You almost felt bad until he began to laugh as well. Charles stood up, dusted himself off, grabbed your hand, and continued walking down the lit street.

He pointed forwards at a hotel entrance with his free hand and led you inside. The bright lights and white decor shocked your eyes before entering the elevator. He pressed the floor button as you descended up to his room. You weren’t sure what to say in this moment and you could only hope that the silence was comforting to him. You looked around the elevator, seeing things move around inside your eyes and trying to focus. Convincing yourself that you're sober is pretty difficult when you're not.

The door opened and you followed him through the carpeted halls. He grabbed a key out from his pocket and swiped it to open the door. "Home sweet home, baby." He gestured to the room as you walked in. As soon as the door closed, you felt a different energy from him. His eyes looked hungry as he looked your body up and down. You took a step backwards, against the door and did the same to him, finishing your glare at his face, focused on his lips.

"You are so sexy," he said, taking a step forward. His hand found your cheek before his lips crashed to yours.

You turned your head slightly, kissing him back. Your free hands went to his hair, pulling on his locks with need. He tasted incredible, even after a long night of drinking. You pulled his head away from your lips and down to your neck as he sucked on your skin. There was definitely going to be marks tomorrow.

His mouth lifted from yours and he spoke breathlessly. "Are you trying to get me to mark you up?"

You smirked. "Would it be the worst thing?"

He was just as devilish as you were. "Absolutely not." He made his way back to your neck. His hands trailed down your body, reaching the hem of your dress. His hand snaked under the hem and went to your backside. "You have an incredible ass," he said between kisses. Your eyes rolled back into your head as you felt that intense feeling growing in your abdomen. You pushed him back and took a few steps towards the bed before pushing him again onto the soft white comforter.

You straddled his lap. Your dress rolled up your legs and eventually rested around your waist leaving you bare. His hands found your ass again as you kissed him roughly. He pulled your body closer to him and you began to rock back and forth on his lap. "Shit, baby," he said between kisses. "I want you to ride me."

A smile formed across your face. "We don't always get what we want now do we?" You continued the motion on his lap, grinding harder and faster. You knew you were driving him crazy and it was getting to be too much for him to handle. He grabbed you and flipped you around so he was on top.

"I don't want you to think you're the one in control now, baby." He looked down at you with lust. You pulled him in for another kiss, but he resisted. He backed up off of the bed and began unbuttoning his shirt before tossing it to the side.

His lips found your legs as he began kissing up your body and crawling closer to you. His hand dipped into your underwear as he reached your inner thighs.

His fingers began tracing circles around your clit, sending shockwaves through your body. It had been months since anyone touched you like this. You tried to speak but the only thing that came out was a moan. His fingers lit your body up into flames.

"That's right," he said. A finger slowly found its way towards your entrance before slipping inside.

"Fuck," You moaned.

He followed suit. "I love to hear you moan for me baby." He entered another finger inside of you, hitting you in just the right spot. You rolled your eyes back, being shocked again when you felt his mouth on your clit.

You looked down to see his head buried between your thighs, going to work with intensity. "Jesus, Charles," You threw your head back again. He continued to work your body close while your legs wrapped around his back. You arched your back as you could feel something building inside of you. A moan escaped your lips followed by a few expletives.

His fingers worked inside of you and his tongue lapped around your core. He looked up at you, making eye contact while continuing all of these motions. He might be the hottest man you’ve ever seen in this moment.

He quickly sent you over the edge and you tried to recover before you pulled at him to get on the bed. Again, he resisted. "Baby, I'm in charge tonight." He flipped your body around so you were on your stomach. A sweet stinging sensation was felt on your ass as he grabbed your hips and pulled you up on all fours.

You heard the sound of foil ripping and he was soon inside of you. His pace was hard and rough and he felt so good inside of you.

Your arms felt like they were going to give out, so you leaned your head down on the bed as he pounded into you from behind. A low growl escaped his throat as you felt your head being tugged back up by your hair.

"Shit, you feel so good," he said with one hand gripping your ass and the other holding your hair in a makeshift pony tail.

"Fuck," You moaned, your body rocking back and forth before you began to feel that familiar feeling again. "Charles-" A hard smack on your ass stopped your speech but ultimately sent you over the edge.

He continued to work inside of you before his pace quickened and eventually slowed.

Your body fell onto the bed in exhaustion as he walked to the bathroom to clean up.

-

You woke up the next morning with an arm draped over your side. You turned behind you to see a peaceful Charles still asleep. You didn't want to wake him but your head was spinning. You tried to get out of his grip but he eventually started to stir awake. "Good morning beautiful," he said in a rugged morning voice.

You smiled at him as you pulled the covers up and walked towards the bathroom. You passed the full length mirror, noticing my naked body covered in purple and red marks. Your hair was a mess but somehow your makeup was still intact.  You looked towards Charles on the bed and saw him already staring at you with a smirk on his face. "Look at you," he said.

You shook your head and laughed. "I'm going to hop in the shower real quick."

He promptly jumped out of bed. "I'll join you if it's alright?" He asked.

You nodded to him and started the shower, the bathroom filling with steam. He walked into the bathroom behind you and got a closer look at your body. "I think seeing you marked up by me is getting me hard again."

You turned around and looked at him before dropping to your knees. "Well, why don't we do something about that."

[avintagekiss24]

—you can pretend you don’t miss me; bucky barnes

pairing: tfatws!bucky barnes x black!reader

word count: 4049

warnings: 18+ ONLY, knife kink, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, tiny bit of blood, attempted murder

challenge: @cockslut-padalecki a decade under the influence “what if I can’t forget you? I’ll burn your name into my throat”

request: bucky barnes + “i have a feeling i’m gonna get lucky tonight” + orgasm denial

author note: surprise! it didn’t take me two months to write something sjsksjs please enjoy fic #3 of my 5/5.5k follower celebration! also another quick congrats to lisa for hitting 10k!!

inspired by this art ; gif by @zacharylevis ; line divider by @firefly-graphics ; title inspired by billie eilish bitches broken hearts

The taste of bourbon and cigarettes is on his lips and tongue as he licks into your mouth. He moans into you, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh as he hooks your leg right around his waist. Your back is up against the heavy door of his apartment, fingers in soft brown hair, wet lips smacking and sucking, teeth nibbling on his swollen, red bottom lip. He laughs, relaxing into your kiss and lips and teeth as he anchors your weight in his metal hand, flesh hand rummaging in his almost too tight black jeans for his door key.

There’s a smirk on your face as you pull away from him. Your lips are still touching. Foreheads resting on one another's. Eyes a little shy, only connecting for fractions of seconds before they’re on the floor or a pair of lips. The jingle of keys fills the hallway, then the thunk of one as it pushes into the slot and stops hard against the rusted metal of the lock. The deadbolt slaps back into the door and with a push of his foot, and a little help from your weight being pinned against it, the swollen door scrapes against the frame as it pops open, swinging back into the wall.

Bucky slips his hands down your sides, grips your hips tight as he starts to back you inside. They stay there, those hands, as his eyes bounce back and forth between yours and dip down to your mouth where he licks his lips and catches his bottom lip between his teeth, like he’s fantasizing about wanting to feel them again. A metal hand cups your face, his palm warm as he sweeps his thumb along your cheek.

His tongue sneaks out just before your lips meet again to tease the roof of your mouth before he grabs your top lip between his. You both inhale deep, breathing each other in, a concoction of soft and sweet and smoke and warmth.

You’re not sure who moves first, whether Bucky is pushing or you’re pulling— probably a little of both— but you’re inside of his apartment before you know it. The door slams shut. Your leather jacket slips off your shoulders and hits the hardwood floor as you back further inside.

Fingers and hands are everywhere. Yanking at shirts, popping buttons, pulling zippers as lips get more desperate. You back into a set of bar stools, knocking them around just a little as you stumble and catch yourself, throwing your head back as laughter spills from you. Bucky pushes out a breath and a small laugh while he eyes you all hungry like as he pulls at his boots.

You tease him a little, putting those feminine wiles to good use— tilt your head, twist your hair around your fingers, push your tits forward. With your shirt crumpled on the floor, the titanium bars pushed through your nipples catch the soft pink, blue, and purple lights of the neon signs pouring in through the kitchen windows through the sheer mesh bralette covering your chest.

Bucky looks a mess. Hair all over his head, pants open— the band of his Hugo Boss boxers peeking out— plain black t-shirt now in a rumpled pile on the floor. His footsteps heavy as he stalks towards you. He stops short, wraps black and gold fingers around your wrist and yanks, collecting you again to crush your soft body against his hard one.

You tilt your head up towards him, eyes turning to slits, lips brushing against his as manicured fingertips push just inside his jeans. Soft tips sweep over a rigid cock, the size making a sly smile curl onto your face. This one is full of surprises.

“Well well,” you purr, kissing him quick, wet and loud, never taking your eyes off him, “I have a feeling I’m gonna get lucky tonight.”

A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, a breath pushing out through his nose as a lopsided grin paints his handsome face, “Aren’t you a smart girl.”

You curl your fingers around his neck, digging the tips into his messy hair and draw him in— dragging the wet velvet of your tongue over his mouth real slow, watching as his eyes close, “You, bed,” you instruct, “Me, bathroom.”

Footsteps fill the quiet, surprisingly lived-in apartment, the clicks of your heels and his heavy thumps as he pulls you towards the bed. He just points off to his left as he falls onto the mattress, resting a leaden head on a wide palm as he settles in. Eyes blinking at you slow as you disappear behind a white door.

The bathroom is immaculate. White. Sterile. Nothing out of place— very military of him. You undress slowly, removing your shoes one by one before moving on to your jeans, leaving you in nothing but a see through bra, waist high panties— and a black leather ankle holster housing your six inch, hand crafted, butterfly knife.

You lift your foot, place it on the white countertop and slip the blade from the holster before carefully, quietly undoing the straps. Taking a deep breath, you stand up a little straighter, roll your neck and shoulders as you stare back at your reflection. The pony tail comes down, silky hair falling over your shoulders and down your back— best fifteen hundred bucks you’ve ever spent on yourself.

Gotta look good on the day you finally get to kill the Winter Soldier.

With a soft flick of your wrist, the blade flips out and you can’t help but run a manicured finger over the edge, pressing the sharp point into the pad. You find yourself in the mirror again and tilt your head a little as your brain goes a little empty— except for maybe one thought.

You wanna fuck him. You’ve earned it, and regrettably so, you find Bucky Barnes sort of interesting. Funny. Engaging when prodded a bit but still somehow deadpan and aloof.

His huge cock doesn’t help matters either.

You sigh, oh well.

The door clicks as you open it and pass through. You keep your hands behind your back as your body softens— sinks into itself a little. Hair falls in your face as you feign shyness, batting big, soft brown eyes and sinking your teeth into an ample bottom lip.

Bucky took the time to get completely naked. Hard cock gripped in his flesh palm, slow drags from the base to the glistening tip.

God, you really kinda wish you could fuck this man.

“Come ‘ere.”

An outstretched metal hand accompanies the gentle beckoning. You move soft, a small sound of your feet sinking into the carpet before you reach out with your empty hand and slide it into warm metal, using the sturdy grip to hoist yourself up and over his stomach.

His hands find your hips— big, warm, manly hands. They slip upwards just a bit to grip the soft of your sides. Move down again for thick fingers to graze over your ass and tickle the backs of your naked thighs. Still, you palm the handle of your knife tight and high, in the small of your back, as you use your free hand to push the dark strands of hair out of your face.

Bucky’s eyes meet yours when his fingers push between your parted legs, finding a wet spot in those mesh panties. You inhale deep, blinking back at him as his fingers keep a sweet little rhythm back and forth against your cunt. Hips defy your brain and push forward into those fingers— wanting just a little more.

Maybe you can wait… maybe until after...

You lean forward before your brain can finish stringing the words together— you have to or you’d lose all your nerve and give into that weak devil telling you to taste the sin. Let him spread you open until it hurts. Your mouth finds his hot and swollen and you kiss him hard, so hard he groans into it. You pull back just enough to lick his mouth again, eyes bouncing between his.

“What’re you waitin’ for, sweetheart? You need more of an invitation than this?” Bucky asks low and slow, pushing his cock right into your ass as his fingers creep inside your panties.

You smile, real nice and sweet before swooping the arm from behind your back to push the knife into his neck, “Oh nothing, baby,” you purr, “Just waiting for the right time to kill you is all.”

You lean back a little to see his face, tipping your head to the side. He’s pretty calm for a guy who’s minutes away from bleeding out on his own bed— but he is an assassin. Not much can shake him— should shake him.

Bucky blinks slow at you, hands coming to rest by his sides. His eyes don’t widen, pupils don’t dilate. Steady breathing stays just the same— he doesn’t even shift uncomfortably. Just blinks back at you. Slow. Easy. Without a fucking care in the goddamn world.

An angry heat blooms across your skin at his nonchalance as the seconds tick by. Your chest starts to rise and fall a little harder. Your eyes start to bounce between his as you suck your teeth in indignation, “You don’t remember me, do you?”

A blink is all you get.

“Of course you don’t,” you hiss, “Why would you? I was just one of many in the wrong place at the wrong time, right?” Your grip on the handle of the knife tightens as you push it harder against his skin— this time he swallows, “Who cares how many innocent lives you’ve destroyed as long as you got what you wanted.”

He still doesn’t say a word, doesn’t flinch, doesn’t react. Just stares up at you as you crack, laughing angrily as you take his silence mockingly, “Well, I couldn’t fuckin’ forget you. Eight years. Eight years of living in absolute terror that you’d come back for me.” You’re seething now, eyes wild, breath coming harder and faster than the one before it, “Constantly looking over my shoulder, jumping at every bark of a dog and clink of keys and slam of a car door outside my apartment— do you know how it feels to live like that? Huh? Expecting to die every second of every hour of every goddamn day?”

Another silence drops over the room and it’s just the two of you staring at each other. You’re not even sure why he isn’t fighting back— why he’s just lying there and then it hits you, like a ton of bricks.

Of course he knows what it’s like to live like this. He’s used to it.

A trickle of blood slips down the side of his neck, the singular plop staining the white sheets below, “I’ve never thought about after— once you’re dead. What if I can’t forget you? I’ve spent so long hating you— it’s, it’s like by killing you, I’ll burn your name into my throat, you know? You’ll always just,” you tilt your head, digging the knife in a little harder, “Be there. With me always.”

The funniest thing happens as soon as the words slip through your teeth. His lips start to twitch. Curl into a smile— one where those pearly whites are on display— and then he’s laughing. Like someone just told a fucking joke.

It makes you recoil. Makes you squint and has your face twist in confusion, lips separating as a heavy breath passes through.

“Well,” he finally purrs, the laughter rumbling through his chest dying down, “Go ‘head, honey.”

When you hesitate, he pushes his chin forward, arch’s his head back to put his neck on full display, “Come on, baby. Don’t get my hopes up and not follow through.”

“You’re insane.” You hiss.

He leans up a little, another smile curling onto his lips, “In this business, you gotta be.”

The words stick in air like glue as he settles back into the pillow below his head, blue eyes twinkling underneath the soft neon lights pouring in through the windows.

He’s fucking with you. Just do it. The words echo, knocking around your brain as you stare down at him, blade still shoved into the crease of his neck. Another drop of blood plops onto the sheets below. Your lip snarls slightly, eyes narrowing as heat flashes across your skin again. He’s mocking you. After everything he’s done, all the pain— the fear.

You inhale deep, grip the handle so hard your nails dig into your palm and instinct takes over. The hatred, the built up aggression and vitriol guiding your hand, about to slash that pretty thick neck wide open. You are more than ready to see a deep red stain white sheets and blue eyes lose all of the life he’s built into them and fade away into nothingness. Just when you’re about to make your eight year long dream come true, it all flashes before your eyes.

Within a blink— half of a blink— you're off his lap, slammed up against the wall opposite the bed, warm flesh hand around your throat. You gasp hard, nearly choking on the air you can’t grab as you start to struggle, slapping at his face before swinging the knife wildly.

Bucky catches your arm with ease, squeezing your hand until you’re grunting and hissing in pain, grip relaxing around the metal. You blink again, and your knife is now pressed against your throat as you growl, struggling to no avail.

“You’re lucky baby,” he mutters, “Nobody survives that long while holding a knife to my throat.” He kisses you hard, digging his teeth into your bottom lip to drag it back with him when he pulls away, “You’re a cutie tho, so, you get a little reprieve.”

He leans back in real close, eyes roaming along your face as his head tilts, breathing easy. Staring back at him, lip curling again as you huff hard, angry breaths beating out of your nose. But your hands have come to rest on his arms. You can feel the blood coursing through the vein that’s popped out right down the center of his bicep. Your fingers flex around metal and muscle, goosebumps rising on your skin as the cool air conditioning tickles hot skin.

“Of course I remember you,” he whispers after a long time— too long, “I remember each and every face of the last seventy years,” his eyes bounce between yours, “I knew exactly who you were as soon as you popped up on that stupid dating app.”

Another sharp influx of air squeezes out of your throat when he drags the tip of your knife underneath your chin, down the length of your throat, down your chest. Slips it along your stomach before pushing it into the mesh that covers your chest. A flick of his wrist and you’re bare, the thin material giving way to the blade.

Your chest heaves, eyes wide, lips parting as the tip of that blade scrapes along your skin— right between your tits. Brown eyes drop to his red, wet lips quick, then shoot back to focus on his piercing blues.

“I wasn’t sure at first what you wanted,” he whispers, flattening the blade over a piqued nipple, clinking against the metal bar piercing your thick flesh, “If you recognized me after all this time— I mean, with the new hair and everything.”

A hum sounds at the back of your throat, trembling and airy and Bucky picks it up right away— another smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. The fingers around your throat peel away slowly but he watches you all the while, fire behind his eyes as he tests you.

“You’re a good little actress,” words still soft but full— maybe amazed that you were able to get as close as you did, “But you knew that already, huh?”

You swallow hard, eyes tipping down to watch his fingers drift down your arm. Light little touches, “You have to be when born— ah,” the edge of the knife catches your thick nipple as he slides it across your tit.

He kisses you again, real sweet this time though. Tongue sweeping along your bottom lip as both his encase it, “I���m sorry baby. You were saying?”

Flesh fingers dance along your stomach, sweeping from hip to hip. Just the tips. Feather light drags so you don’t forget about them. His large palm grips your hip, pushes his thumb into the meat of your side and you have to close your eyes��� clear your throat to center yourself. To remember why you’re there in the first place.

Sweet breath washes over your face as Bucky rolls your left nipple now into the edge of the blade— kissing you again when you shriek at the quick, sharp pain just to eat the sound. You lose the fingers around your hip, only to find them again suddenly, jumping in slight surprise as calloused pads cup a soft, wet cunt.

Bucky’s still blinking slow, fingers pushing along a swollen clit, massaging. He’s real close now, prickly cheek rubbing against yours, teeth nibbling at your jawline.

Your own fingers dig into his biceps as your eyes flutter with the tightening of your stomach. A warmth starts to spread through your veins. Hips find a little rhythm against his hand. A sharp prick here and there as he circles that knife— your own damn knife— around your tits and back up to your throat again.

That’s when he sinks two long, thick fingers into you, not stopping until his palm is flush with your sticky folds. His thumb pressed against the sensitive little nub at the center of you.

His eyes are slits, head tilted up slightly as his mouth hangs, dragging in the air you expel. Only then does his fingers start to move, delving in and out, thumb still pushing along your clit.

“God,” you pant, pushing your head upwards against the wall, “Mmm, I can’t—” his fingers push deeper and the words are gone, like they never even existed in the first place, “Fuck.”

Bucky pushes the smooth blade against your throat just a little harder— the sharp edge forcing your chin upward a little more. He flattens his thumb against your lower stomach, starts to pull his fingers, not push them. The heel of his palm starts to slap against your skin as you buck into the motion.

Your hands slip up to his shoulders, both arms wrapping lazily around either side of his neck. The soft hum from earlier is replaced with high pitched whimpers and breathy little squeaks. Bitten off words fall from your lips as you squirm against the wall, wanting him deeper, faster, harder— which he delivers without you having to say a word.

He grabs your cheeks, pinching hard as the blade flattens across your pouty lips. A weak, desperate whimper sounds, all your resolve gone. Whatever leverage you thought you had completely wiped away— and it makes a wicked grin spread on Bucky’s lips.

“You close, baby? Hmm?” he hums, licking at your mouth again, “Oh sweet girl, you wanna come, huh? You gonna come for me?”

He strokes your clit with the tip of his thumb, your walls clenching around his fingers. The gentle encouragement continues, real soft and between sweet little kisses all over your face. A dull ache settles in your belly, a thick heat starting to stir within. Your heart leaps into your throat as your hips pump with Bucky’s hand, the release so close you can taste it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you groan, “‘m gonna fuckin—”

“You want it? Huh? Want me to make you come honey?”

You squeak in response, nodding fast as you bite down into your lip, “Please. Please.”

Heat ripples through your body as you start to tremble, legs going shaky and weak. Muscles start to burn all over as you tense hard, coaxing the sweet agony swirling in your stomach. You cry out, his name hanging on your lips as the rush of it all pushes higher and higher.

Just as you start to unravel, just as the coil begins to snap, his fingers are gone. Pulled from your cunt and clit. You’re whipped around his body, forced back towards the bed. Your mind racing— maybe you’ll be getting some of that cock afterall.

Or not.

Metal slaps around your wrist, bites into the skin as it clamps down, the clink of teeth sliding into the lock housing ringing in your ears. You snap your head towards the sound when it all finally connects in your murky brain. The horror of realization floods into your veins— blood running cold as your stomach drops to your feet.

The handcuffs clink against the dark metal headboard as you fight against it, “You bastard! You fuckin’ piece of shit, let me go!” you shout, thrashing your arm back and forth, pulling as hard as you can, “Goddamn it— let me the fuck go! I’ll fuckin’ kill you, you bast—”

“Ooph,” Bucky jests, octave rising as he slips back into his jeans, “You got a filthy little mouth on you.”

“Fuck you!”

He scoffs, laughing gently as he pulls his black shirt back over his head. The bastard even starts to hum as he plops down on the edge of the bed, taking his time while he pushes his feet back into his boots and shrugs into his jacket.

You keep sharp eyes on him as he stands and turns to face you, dangling a pair of small silver keys next to his grinning face before he tosses them somewhere deep in the apartment. You swipe at him with your free hand as he approaches, just barely catching his chin as he kneals down, “I’m gonna kill you,” you smile, a blind rage engulfing every pore, every muscle, every ounce of your body.

Bucky shrugs, “Not tonight, sweets. Listen, tell Sam I’m sorry about the mess, hm?”

“Who the fuck is Sam?” you hiss.

He looks down at his watch, “Yeah, he should be home in about an hour. It’s not everyday you walk into your apartment to find a naked, wannabe assassin handcuffed to your bed, so, give him my apologies— wait, you know about Sam, right? The new Cap, they made it official a couple of weeks ago.”

Your jaw clenches as you stare back at his smiling face, more humiliation pouring through you as you realize he’s had you pegged the entire goddamn time.

“Oh baby,” he laughs again, “You didn’t honestly think I’d take you back to my place, did you? I don’t even know you— you kids today are so reckless.”

Blue eyes bounce between yours for a few seconds before he glances down at his hands, works them back into his black gloves. He pulls your butterfly knife from his back pocket and starts to play with it, flicking his wrist to close it, and then open it over and over again.

“I’m keeping this,” he offers as he locks it closed and slips it back into his pocket, “Maybe you’ll find the balls to try and take it from me.”

“Oh,” you laugh, shaking your head, “I’m taking it back.”

Bucky stands, the sound of his heavy boots sounding through the apartment as he moves towards the door, “I look forward to it kiddo.”

***

If there’s one thing you respect about Bucky Barnes, it’s his attention to detail.

Right on the dot, exactly one hour later, you snap your head towards the front door as keys start to jingle in the lock. With the bed sheet wrapped loosely around your torso, you straighten up against the wall, eyes wide as you watch an exhausted Samuel Thomas Wilson walk into his apartment.

“Oh, fuck!” he shouts, jumping slightly and dropping his bag to the floor when he locks eyes with you, “What in the fuck?”

“I can explain… sort of.” you start, holding up your hand.

You apparently don’t need to. Sam’s phone is to his ear within seconds as he starts to pace back and forth, “Bucky, this is not why I gave you a key to my mother fuckin’ apartment!”

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Fifteen. “eyes eyes eyes.”

word count: 5.9k (not including pictures) warnings: swearing

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist 

A/N: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! you know? anyway uh....... hope you like this... a lot is kinda going on in this part... but more details will come in the next chapter don’t worry i’m not scamming you 

_____

"I can't believe you," Dream scoffed from the other side of the phone, which was displaying only his eyes and up as Y/n's phone laid face up towards her ceiling. She didn't mind; he had pretty eyes and his blond hair poked out wildly beneath his hoodie and it was enough to make her only half focus on their conversation about her newest Minecraft build.

Y/n smiled as she glanced back at her phone to see him squinting at his screen in confusion even though there was no face on the other side, then looked back at her monitor. Neither of them were streaming but were bored so they decided to wander around on the SMP, continuing their all-day FaceTime call instead of transferring to Discord. They were on their fifth hour of FaceTiming at this point. Y/n had suggested multiple times switching to voice call instead since she wasn't showing her face, hoping he would say no so she could see him still, and each time he denied it because he claimed it felt more real when he could see her ceiling. Whatever that meant.

"I don't know what to tell you, bud. I'm just playing the game."

"But..." he pouted, she could tell by his voice... and by the eyes that were still glued to the call. "How are you so good?"

"Magic."

"I knew it."

She giggled and looked back to Minecraft, where she was looking at the massive hideout Sam had helped her build, complete with secret doors and tunnels and a whole lot of redstone. "Sam did most of it."

"Bullshit. Look at that," he said as he looked away from the phone and his green avatar punched the side of the build. "That has 'Bug' written all over it. You did that."

"Okay, I did do that part, but the cool parts like the secret doors and stuff are all Sam."

"Stop downplaying your skills. It looks good, Bug." His voice was clear and genuine and sent chills down her spine. For someone who want physically affectionate, she really wanted to give him a big hug. And... well... other things.

"Thanks, Dream," she whispered.

"You're welcome," he whispered back childishly.

"What in the..." Y/n said as she turned and saw a familiar Minecraft character with a white and red shirt in the distance. She pressed the zoom hotkey and stared at him as he filled her screen. "What is he doing?"

"Oh, speaking of Tommy," Dream started, clearing his throat as his avatar ran back and forth between the door of her hideout and a tree about ten blocks from it. "Um, I had an idea about, uh, the lake thing? The New Years' trip?"

"What's up?" she asked, turning to face him as she listened.

"Well, it's only about three weeks away and I was thinking—"

Dream was cut off as Tommy ran over to hit him with an axe a couple of times before running away.

"What the hell?" Dream grumbled as they watched Tommy sprint and jump in the direction he came from. The young boy paused when he realized neither of them were following, just looking in his direction.

<TommyInnit> did I scare you guys <TommyInnit> I did, didn't I <TommyInnit> I am very good at scaring people

Y/n laughed and typed her reply

<BugsyGames> not one single bone in my body was scared, tommyinnit <BugsyGames> try harder next time ig :/ <TommyInnit> JOIN VC RIGHT NOW <TommyInnit> VC <TommyInnit> VC <TommyInnit> VC <TommyInnit> VC <TommyInnit> VC

"Oh my gosh, he's so annoying," Dream mumbled with a small laugh but made no effort to do as the younger told.

<BugsyGames> idk if i really wanna HEAR you curse me out bc you already have over text multiple times <TommyInnit> VC <TommyInnit> VC

"Are you gonna join?" she asked, opening Discord on her other monitor.

"Hell no," Dream scoffed before his voice turned worrisome. "Are you?"

"Yeah, he's entertaining," she said. "And he won't leave us alone until one of us pays attention to him."

"Oh, you wanna be left alone with me, Bug?" he teased and she couldn't help but smile widely in embarrassment.

"Whatever you want to think I said, Dream." Y/n laughed, making Dream pout.

"Buuugg... just say you love me already," he whined jokingly.

Since she couldn't ignore the overwhelming butterflies in her stomach, she ignored him and opened Discord and looked at the voice channel Tommy was in. "Oh, Tubbo and Ranboo are there too, so it's worth getting cursed out," she told Dream before sliding on her headphones and joining. She moved one side off of her ear so she could still hear Dream over FaceTime if he spoke to her, seeing as he wasn't going to join the Discord call.

"Hi—"

"WHAT THE HELL DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?" Tommy started yelling quickly. "I'M NOT AFRAID TO FIGHT A GIRL, I HAVE FOUGHT MANY WOMEN AND HAVE WON EVERY TIME."

"Uh... geesh Tommy, no hello?" Y/n asked. "Why do you get in so many fights with women?"

"They question my manliness."

"Hm. Maybe work on making it less questionable?"

"EXCUSE ME?!"

"What is... happening?" Ranboo asked.

"I don't really know. Tommy came over and punched Dream and then made me join vc so he could yell at me, I guess."

"Oh, that's where he went!" Tubbo said. "I had no idea, he just disappeared."

"I HAD TO GO HIT DREAM BECAUSE HE'S TALKING TO A FEMALE AND I WANTED HIM TO LOOK BAD IN FRONT OF HER."

"What is he saying to you?" Dream asked from the phone on the desk. "He's yelling at you?"

"No, it's just Tommy being Tommy."

"W-What?" Tommy asked.

"I was talking to Dream," she explained.

"I can get on and tell him to stop if you need me to," Dream offered before his keyboard started clicking. "Should I? Do you want me to?"

"No, Dream, it's okay. I'll just fight him."

"YOU'RE WITH HIM??" Tommy accused.

"No! We're on FaceTime."

"YOU'RE FACETIMING HIM?"

"Yup," she stated before quickly changing the subject since Tommy and Ranboo were both streaming. "What are my sons up to?"

"We're just trident-ing around talking about whether or not my or Tommy's accent is worse," Tubbo said. "He says 'grass' weird."

"Tommy's," Y/n voted, wanting to piss off the youngest more. "You have the voice of an angel, Tub."

"Are we just going to ignore the fact that Bugsy and Dream are FaceTiming right now?" Tommy asked in a calmer, more mumbled but still frantic voice. "Cause, I mean, I just think it's a bit strange is all but if we're just going to breeze past it, I mean... you know? The two faceless Minecrafters are staring into each other's eyes while we all talk on Discord like nothing is happening."

"We aren't 'staring into each other's eyes'," Y/n corrected.

She paused when Dream giggled and said, "I bet you're staring into mine, Bug." She glanced down to see his full face beaming up at her with a playful smile. He had propped his phone up on his monitor so she could see where his elbows met his desk all the way to the top of his fluffy hair. Her cheeks and neck burned hot as she looked at the boy cuddled up in his hoodie once again. He folded his arms on his desk and placed his chin on his forearms, looking impossibly cuter as he stared at the camera. "There's no way for me to know you aren't."

"Shut up, Dream," she mumbled before speaking to the others again. "We're not even showing our faces," she lied. "Dream sorta is but not really."

"No need to lie to everyone," Dream said, still smiling, sitting up from his position. "This is my entire face. What, you don't want people to know you get to see me whenever you want? You have VIP access, baby, the people should know."

An abrupt laugh escaped her lips at the nickname. "Can you guys hear Dream?" Y/n asked the boys in the voice channel nervously.

"No, why? Is he telling you dirty things?" Tommy laughed evilly.

"Nope. Just wondering." Her face was on fire. She hit Dream's character in-game and watched him focus back on his computer with a goofy smile. He returned the favor by hitting her character back once even though she was continually dealing damage until he had half a and begged her to stop.

"He's probably flirting with her like he does when we're on call but, like, worse because no one else can hear him," Tubbo proposed before all three of the young boys gagged and yelled over each other.

"GROSS!!" Tommy shouted.

"Ew!! Mom, is there a dude flirting with you? That's disgusting," Ranboo gagged.

"I cannot stand you guys," Y/n laughed, making her voice as confident as possible so they couldn't detect her lies. "That's not what's happening."

"Do my words mean nothing, Bug?"

"Dude," she mumbled to Dream again. "I wish you could see how hard I'm glaring at you right now." He laughed in response.

A knock on Y/n's door snapped her out of her conversation and she quickly muted on Discord. "Come in!"

Naomi poked her head in and quickly put her hand up. "Oh, sorry!" she whisper-shouted. "I didn't know you were streaming."

Y/n shook her head and smiled. "I'm not. What's up?"

"TUBBO! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?" Tommy screamed, making Y/n deafen also.

Naomi stood taller and dropped her hand to her side. "I'm just bored and want to do something."

"I do too, actually," Y/n admitted.

"You're bored?" Dream scoffed. "Bug, I'm offended!"

Y/n smiled widely and turned back to her phone to see the blond boy frowning. "I've talked to you all day. Can I not go hang out with my roommate?"

"No! Tell her to fuck off."

"Dream! She's literally right here, she can hear you!" Y/n covered her phone screen with her hand to hide Dream's face as Naomi walked closer, laughing.

"Naomi?" Dream asked.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck off."

Naomi laughed as Y/n gasped. "DREAM!" Y/n grabbed her phone and held it up to show one eye in the corner of the screen so he could see her glaring, but he wasn't looking.

"I'm just kidddinnnggg... obviouslyyy..." he dragged out. "Unless you do steal Bug away from me, in which case I'm not kidding."

Naomi was silent with her hand over her mouth, not wanting to freak out and make Y/n back out before Dream could see her eye. It was a small thing, but a huge deal.

The silence caused Dream to look down and his jaw dropped. "B-Bug!!"

"You see this?? I'm glaring at you. How dare you talk to Naomi that way," Y/n reprimanded teasingly, trying to hide the shakiness in her voice.

"WHAT? Is this how you felt when I showed my face just to prove a point?"

"Probably."

"You're doing the exact thing I did! You're just proving a point!"

"Yeah, but I'm not showing my whole face like you did, idiot. Just enough so you can see the glare."

"Oh my gosh. Okay, yeah, I see you glaring, stop glaring!" he giggled and Y/n's camera went back to only showing her ceiling as she smiled. "I'm sorry, Naomi!"

"You can't just joke like that to someone you hardly know," Y/n scolded as Naomi continued laughing. She knew Naomi had that kind of sense of humor, but Dream didn't.

"Who said I'm joking?" he asked.

"Oh, shut up. I can't stand you."

"I'm kidding! I'm sorry, Naomi. I was just kidding."

"I know," she reassured. "It's all good, don't worry. I know you love your Bug too much to hurt her friends."

Y/n saw Dream quickly pull his phone away from his face after he smiled shyly, and she liked to imagine that he was blushing at Naomi's accusation.

"Yeah, I guess she's nice to have around," he mumbled.

<Ranboo> bugsy? you still there?

"Wait, both of you quiet for a second," she told Dream and Naomi before unmuting and undeafening on Discord. "Yeah, sorry, what's up? I was defended and muted."

"You were so cryptically silent, it was a little scary."

"Sorry, my roommate is talking to me. I'm gonna head off, actually."

"Aw, but we hardly got to play with you!" Tubbo pouted.

"We'll play soon! I promise! But not you, Tommy. I don't like you."

"I DON'T LIKE YOU FIRST, YOU EVIL WOMAN."

"Bye, Tommy."

"Bye, Bugsy," he grumbled.

"Goodbye, mother," Ranboo said as Tubbo laughed out a, "Goodbye mom," making Y/n's heart shed a proud tear.

"Goodbye, my sons. Be good. Be safe."

"Bye!!"

She left the Discord and then left Minecraft. "Okay, sorry, continue," she promoted Naomi.

"I think it's so cute how you talk to Tubbo and Ranboo," Dream cut in. "It's adorable."

"It is," Naomi agreed. "Tommy, too. I know you pretend to hate him but we can tell you want him to be your son too."

"Never," she murmured, making both of them laugh. She slid off her headphones and grabbed her phone, careful to keep it pointed away from her face as she walked to her closet.

"Anyway, I just wanna do something. It's really nice out today, do you want to go to the park or ride bikes or something?"

"Yeah, sure." She ripped a hoodie off the hanger with one hand, making the hanger ricochet and clank against the closet ceiling.  

"Yeah, sounds fun," Dream agreed from between them.

Y/n laughed. "Sorry, bud, not you."

A deep frown etched onto Dream's face and Y/n laughed. "What are you going to do there that I can't join? You can just prop me up on a tree and sit next to the phone."

"If we ride bikes, I can't hold you. And if we go to the park we usually skate. Besides, we want to talk about how much we hate you anyway so we don't want you there."

"Bug!" he pouted. Dream paused before saying, "Can you give the phone to Naomi real quick?"

Y/n hesitated but handed the phone to her friend. She used her free hands to slip on the hoodie before tuning back into the conversation.

"You don't have to show me your face but I want you to look into my eyes and promise me something, Naomi," he said.

Naomi held the phone up to her face anyway and Y/n could see both of them looking at each other. "What's up?"

"Promise me you won't let Y/n fall and scrape her knee or something," he requested and Naomi laughed.

"I promise not to let your Bug get hurt." That was the second time Naomi referred to her as 'his Bug' and she was not opposed to the sound of it.

"Thank you very much."

"Great," Naomi said before her voice turned teasing. "Now that that's settled, Y/n, you're right he is cute!"

Naomi was a pot-stirrer. Always was, always would be. She knew what to say to make tension rise in the room whether it was between people who hated each other or people who secretly liked each other. Or whatever Dream and Y/n were.

While Y/n's face grew warm, Dream laughed.

"Hey, you're pretty cute too, Naomi. Should I tell George or does he already know?" Dream fired back, trying to embarrass her as much as she embarrassed Y/n.

Naomi's evil smile fell before a confident one took its place with a raise of her eyebrow. "Oh, he knows."

Y/n laughed abruptly and grabbed the phone back from her friend. "Okay, I'm hanging up now." Before I lose self-control and show you my whole face right here, right now, she thought to herself.

"Boooo," Dream whined. "Will you call me back later? Please?"

"Maybe," she teased. "Depends on if I'm clumsy enough to fall and break everything like you think I will."

"I don't think that. I just want you to be safe."

He needed to stop being so sweet. "Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'm a pro."

"I believe it. Still, though."

"I'll be safe. I promise."

"Also, Bug, um..." he paused shyly. "You have really pretty eyes. Just... thought I'd tell you."

Heat rose to her face again and the look on Naomi's face said she could tell.

"Thanks, Dream."

Naomi nodded her head towards her Y/n's door. "I'll be in my room," she whispered and Y/n nodded.

"Sorry," Y/n said to Dream with a short laugh. "I don't know why I did that."

"It's okay," he reassured. "I appreciate it. I know it was just a small part of your face but it still means a lot to me that you showed me because I know you haven't shown anyone."

"I want to," she blurted out. "I really, really do."

"Want to what?"

"Show people my face." She squeezed her eyes shut and walked to her bed, setting the phone face up towards the ceiling. "Specifically you."

He paused. "Then... why don't you? I'm not pressuring you, I just don't understand. If you want to, then what's stopping you?"

"It's not that simple, Dream," she responded softly. "I'm scared."

Dream was silent for a few moments. "That's kinda what I wanted to talk about earlier before Tommy came in."

"Really?" she perked up. What was he going to say? That she seemed too scared so he didn't what her to go on the trip?

"Yeah, uh, I know you're nervous about meeting everyone and Sapnap and I were talking and– well, okay, so I assume you, Karl, and Naomi are going to go to Georgia together?"

"Yeah?"

"Well, so, yeah, what if– only if you want, obviously, but, you guys could come down to Florida and hang out with us for a few days and then, like, the five of us could go up to Georgia together? That way you meet two people first instead of everyone at once. So, like, since you haven't shown anyone, it'll be like dipping your toe in the water and if you meet Sapnap and I and absolutely hate it you can go back home before meeting everyone else." He finally concluded his proposition and Y/n's heart was so warmed. He was so sweet it was killing her.

"I'll still pay for all the travel stuff for you guys to fly down here," he added with a shy mumble at her silence, "and it's only a four and a half hour drive from here so Sapnap and I were just going to drive up and we could just rent a bigger car to fit comfortably. But obviously you can say no. Just a thought we had."

"Dream," Y/n started softly, her voice coming out way more fondly than she intended but she did nothing to fix it.

"Yeah?"

"You're the sweetest damn person I've ever met in my entire life."

"I just want you to be comfortable," he said softly.

"I think..." she paused. "I think that would be fun. I'd like that. I'll see what Naomi and Karl think."

His voice perked up slightly. "Really? Awesome. You guys can come down whenever. We're going to leave on the 26th to get there that night but whenever you guys want to come, you can. You could even spend Christmas with us if you want to come a few days earlier. Might be hard to find tickets this late since it's the holidays but I can see what I can find."

"That would be cool! The three of us were just going to hang out together so we don't really have plans for Christmas. I'll ask them but I think they'll like that too."

"Cool," he breathed. "If you want to say no later, you can."

"I don't want to say no, Dream."

He paused and his next word had his smile laced clearly through them. "Okay."

"Thank you–thank you for thinking of me," Y/n fumbled out. "It means a lot to me."

"Eh, it might be a little selfish of me, too. I just want to spend as much time with you as I can."

She beamed and bit her lip to not laugh with pure joy. "I'm probably selfish too because I'm going to make Karl and Naomi agree even if they don't want to go."

"I have no problem if you need to use physical force," he joked.

Y/n laughed and shook her head. "I should go save Naomi from her boredom."

"Okaaayyy..." he sighed. "If you must. Thanks for talking with me today."

"I had fun! I'm surprised you didn't bore me to death," she teased and he scoffed.

"Well apparently I did since you're ditching me!"

"Nooo, you could never bore me."

"Hmm... sure."

"Dream," Y/n dragged out and he laughed. "You're so clingy."

"Ugh, I know," he joked. "It's almost like I like you or something."

Y/n froze before mentally scolding herself. He was obviously joking, but it still made her heart skip some beats.

"Almost," she mumbled. "Alright, I'm going to go. I'll call you later if you're free and want to hang out on call more or something."

"Yeah, I'd like that," he said. "Have fun with Naomi! And don't get hurt."

She laughed. "I won't get hurt. Bye, Dream."

"Bye bye, Bug."

Y/n finally hung up and threw her phone on her bed with a small external scream. Naomi came back into the room a few moments later with a smirk on her face and leaned against the doorframe. "Done with the call?"

"Naomi..." she said dreamily. "He's... too freaking cute."

Naomi laughed. "Come on, lover girl, you can tell me all about it while we go outside. Bikes or skating?"

"I haven't gone biking in a while, let's do that."

"Perfect, I found a new trail recently I've wanted to try out," Naomi said as she grabbed her keys off the front table. "Let's go."

"OH, and then," Y/n recounted her story with Dream in detail (per Naomi's request) and she swerved on her bike a little in excitement."Then he said, 'it's almost like I like you or something'! What does that mean??"

Naomi laughed brightly and looked over her shoulder at Y/n. "Maybe it means that he likes you."

Y/n scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, right. Don't get my hopes up."

"I mean it, Y/n. I know you think it's not possible, but just think about it. Do you really think you didn't like him until you saw him?"

Y/n looked up into the treetops that provided shade on their trail. She dreaded that question. She had thought about it so many times, tossing and turning countless nights asking herself the same question over and over. When did she start liking Dream? She had always had interest in him but when did her starstruck admiration and wanting to be his friend turn into wanting to hold his hand and kiss him good morning? When did that change happen? Could it have happened before she knew what he looked like? It would go against so much that she believed, so much she had been told, but... maybe it was true?

"I don't know," Y/n admitted softly. "I really don't know."

Naomi's heart broke for her friend, knowing her internal battle was killing her slowly. "Hey," Naomi said in a lighter tone than she felt. "It'll all work out. I promise."

"What if it doesn't? What if he really doesn't like me and won't ever like me?"

Naomi shrugged. "Then... then he missed out and someone better will eventually come along."

Y/n nodded, wanting to talk about something a little happier. "So... I showed him my eye."

"You did," Naomi said cautiously. "I wasn't going to bring it up, but, damn dude. How do you feel?"

"Good. Great. I know it's small and insignificant but it doesn't feel that way."

"I don't think it's insignificant. It definitely shows you trust him a lot."

"He said I have pretty eyes," Y/n whispered excitedly, making Naomi laugh.

"You do! You really do."

"Speaking of thinking things are pretty, George knows?? What does that mean? Have you guys video called or what? I've been so stuck in my pity party that I have no idea what's going on with that!"

Naomi turned pink but her confident smile never faded. She slowed down and Y/n followed suit, both taking drinks from their water. "Can we sit for a minute?" Naomi asked as she nodded towards a large tree trunk. Y/n nodded and they sat down together, bikes haphazardly thrown to the side of the trail.

"So?"

"So," Naomi started. "George."

"George," Y/n prompted. "What's going on?"

"I like him a lot. And... he told me he likes me."

Y/n raised her eyebrows and beamed at her friend. "Really? Naomi, that's great! That's so awesome, I'm so happy for you!"

Naomi let out a small squeal before blushing. "I know. We're both a little worried because of long-distance but we decided to not think about it until after the trip. Then we'll work out how often we want to see each other and stuff."

"Wait, so, are you guys, like, dating?"

Naomi hummed. "No? But I have joked about how I'm going to kiss him as soon as I see him and it always makes him turn bright red and he just laughs and is like, 'you're an idiot', so that's a good sign."

Y/n laughed. "Yeah, sounds like George."

"Sorry I haven't told you sooner. I just feel like since you're so confused about everything with Dream that it would be like I'm bragging or something? And I didn't want to make you sad that I'm talking to this boy so much and—"

"Naomi," Y/n smiled and grabbed her arm. "It's okay. I'm not upset by it. I'm so so happy for you, really."

Naomi let out a breath of relief. "Thanks, Y/n. You're a really good friend."

"You make it easy to be a good friend to you," she said with a smile and a scrunched nose. "You're the best. I love you."

"I love you too," Naomi giggled and threw her arms around Y/n, forcing a hug even if she didn't want it. Y/n accepted it anyway, hugging her friend back tightly.

"Alright, break's over. Let's finish this thing. How much more do we have to go?"

Naomi checked the map on her phone. "About a mile. Think you can manage not falling off for another mile?"

"What?"

"I promised Dream I wouldn't let you get hurt."

Y/n rolled her eyes fondly. "He's so stupid."

"Maybe, but you like it."

"Who on Earth knows why? Oh! That reminds me," Y/n said as she got back on her bike and rode slowly next to Naomi. "I forgot to mention a huge detail."

"Ugh, you never stop talking about him," Naomi teased. "Just kidding, what happened? I want to know everything."

"This involves you and Karl. How do you feel about taking a detour to Florida before the trip?"

______

When Y/n got home, she showered while Naomi made them dinner. "Today was fun," she said as she sat down at the kitchen table. "We need to hang out more, just the two of us. Thank you so much," she added as Naomi handed her a plate off food.

Naomi nodded. "Agreed. But when do we ever have time when you aren't streaming and I'm not doing school or working?"

"Hmm, true. For a job with a flexible schedule, I don't feel very flexible. Maybe I should promise to join less streams."

"But then I can't join streams," Naomi joked with a laugh.

"Just ask George. I'm not your closest streamer friend anymore apparently," she fake pouted and Naomi blushed.

"He wants me to join one of his streams except neither of us want anyone to know so he thinks it'll be suspicious if it's just him and I."

'Wait, no one else knows you two have been talking?"

"Well, Dream does based on his joke earlier but you're the only person that either of us have told that we're, like, actually talking."

"Oh, I feel so special!"

Naomi laughed. "Good. You are."

Y/n smiled and looked down as her phone vibrated on the table.

"Boyfriend calling?" Naomi teased with one eyebrow quirked.

Y/n stuck her tongue out. "Wouldn't you like that?"

"I would like that. Date him."

"Oh, shut up," Y/n said with a laugh. "But actually, Dream invited me to get back on and hang out."

"So I was right?"

"No."

"Well, go ahead, I won't stop you."

"Thanks, Naomi. I had fun today, thanks for forcing me out of my room and for dinner."

"Anytime dude," she giggled. "Put that sponge down, I'll clean up."

"But you made dinner. Let me help."

"No! Go, your boyfriend is waiting for you. I got it."

Y/n ignored her and started cleaning dishes and putting them in the dishwasher.

"You're the worst. Love you."

"Love you!" Y/n called back as she walked to her room. She got on her desktop and opened Discord while she waited for Minecraft to load.

"Who just joined?" Tubbo asked in a tired voice. "Oh, Bugsy, hello again!"

"Hi!" she greeted back. "How's everyone doing?"

"Good, good, good. How was your, uh, thing? Bikes... or something?" Ranboo asked.

"Yeah, I went on a bike ride with my roommate. It was fun! The weather was super good today so it was good."

"Is it the roommate who's coming on the trip with us?" Tubbo asked.

"Yup," she replied. Ranboo fake whined and Y/n's heart hurt a little. "Ranboo I wish you could come."

"Me too. It would be fun but also very scary," he chuckled and Y/n nodded. "But I'm busy anyway."

"I'm terrified," she admitted. "So I fully understand."

"It's going to be good, Bug," Dream reassured softly, sending butterflies to her stomach. "I promise."

"Why are you terrified?" Tubbo asked.

"Um... just... you know... showing my face to everyone," she said with a small laugh. "Kinda weird." Though, admittedly, she was much less nervous than a few hours ago before she showed Dream her eye.

"Well, Dream has seen you, hasn't he?" Ranboo asked.

"No, what makes you think that?"

"He hasn't?" Tubbo spoke up. "I'm shocked! I could have sworn he had."

"What, why? Dream asked.

"You guys are just super close so I guess we assumed," Tubbo explained.

"No, we are close, Bug is just a tease," Dream joked and Y/n scoffed.

"Oh, whatever. You've seen more than anyone else."

"What?" Ranboo asked with a slight panic in his voice. "What, uh, what does that mean? Oh gosh."

"She showed me her eye today!" Dream announced like it was a huge deal. Which, it kinda was. "But she's a tease because that's all she showed."

"Why do you want to see her so bad, huh Dream?" Ranboo teased. "Hmm???"

"So I can call her pretty without her yelling at me that I can't know," Dream stated bluntly.

Y/n buried her face in her hands, the Minecraft welcome screen long forgotten, and laughed. "I cannot stand you, Dream."

"Awe!!" Tubbo cooed. "Bugsy, give the poor man a break, why don't you show him?"

When she normally would have taken that sort of comment to heart and would have beaten herself up about not showing him, she lifted her head to look at her screen. 'Give the poor man a break'.

"No, Tubbo, she doesn't owe me anything," Dream said with a nervous laugh. "Don't pressure her!!"

"I'm not! I'm not pressuring her to do anything!" Tubbo defended. "I was just joking! But it would be so easy to just send a picture of your face."

"But she doesn't want to and I respect that. Ranboo, are you still on the SMP? Where are you?"

Y/n tuned out the conversation, which had quickly changed topics, scrolling right to the picture she found the other day of her sitting on her bed. She didn't think twice. It just felt right.

Sent

"So, the next manhunt is going to have five hunters or what? Like what's changing?" Ranboo asked. "I think it's super cool that you're continuing the series."

"Yeah," Dream started to explain. "I'm trying to see who would be the best to have as the fifth person to make it—"

Y/n's heart pounded in her ears as she listened to the new silence, waiting for some verbal indication from Dream that everything was okay. That he saw the picture and that everything was still okay.

But he was dead silent.

"Dream?" Ranboo laughed. "Uhhhhh...."

"Uh.." Tubbo laughed too. "Did he break? Dream?"

Y/n bit down on her hoodie sleeve in anticipation and excitement, surprised that there were butterflies in her chest instead of raging thunderstorms of fear.

A loud sound banged through her headphones and her eyes darted to the Discord to see it came from Dream's mic. "Dream?" she asked softly. Did this man just knock something off of his desk?

His regard for them being on call with others completely evaporated. "Holy shit, Bug," he breathed out. "I-Is that you?"

"Sure is," she hummed.

"What the hell?!" he shouted, joy and surprise laced in his voice.

"Wait, what happened?" Tubbo asked before sounding excited. "Did you actually send him a picture of yourself?"

"Mhm," she hummed. "Maybe."

"AHHA! YOU BROKE HIM!" Tubbo laughed.

"Error: Dream.exe broke," Ranboo teased. "Man's files broke at the sight of Bugsy Games. Headlines tomorrow: Bugsy Games murders DreamWasTaken with a selfie."

"Oh, shut up," she breathed.

"Text me back right now," Dream demanded.

Y/n giggled as the other two teased Dream but she picked up her phone and found his one-word response.

Seconds later, Dream's voice was back in her ears. "Uh... I'm gonna get off. I have a lot to process."

Tubbo and Ranboo laughed loudly. "A lot to process?? HAHAHA! Just say you're in love with her and move on."

"WhaaAATT?" Dream yelled. "I-I'm not in love with her, what the hell is wrong with you, Tubbo?"

Y/n laughed, agreeing with him even though it kinda hurt. He didn't have to sound too shocked at the accusation.

"Have fun processing," Ranboo said. "Are you staying Bugsy?"

"Nah, I'm gonna get off too. I'm pretty tired."

"Are you going to be in Big Q's stream tomorrow though?"

She hummed. "I don't know. I didn't know he was streaming tomorrow."

"Oh, I thought he invited you?"

"Guess not. He just lost points."

Dream laughed. "Good."

"Well... we should stream together soon," Ranboo said. "I think that would be really cool."

"I do too! We definitely should. If you have any ideas or anything let me know, okay?"

"Yeah, I will!" he promised. "Talk to you later."

"Bye guys," she said before disconnecting. She noticed Dream linger in the call for a little bit even though he said he was leaving and she decided to get ready for bed, turning off her computer and walking to her closet. She was stopped by some texts though. Priorities.

PREVIOUS | NEXT

taglist: CLOSED - bold couldn’t tag @hydrate-tion @loraleiix @tinaswagbd @charsdummb @jeyyes @1ghoste1 @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge @queestionmark @carnations-red @letsloveimagines @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @boiled-onionrings @a-cryptic @fee-btheweeb @erwinss @just-a-stan @axths @kayleigh2703 @furiouspockettoad @sometimeseverythingsucks @powerpuffyn @tinyegg @millavalntyne @automaticcomputerpaper @nikkineeky @fivedicksinatrenchcoat @sprucekot @bellomi-clarke @possiblyanxioushuman @crybabyjabby @mae-musicbitch @hungoverhellhound @dreamyteam @kuroo-icedtea @stuffforreferences @menacingaesthetic @sapphic-soot @fangeekkk @haseulreturns @queenwastaken @peteysgf @losingvienna @bi-narystars @zero-nightshade @erinitoburrito @sparklykeylime @youhyakuya @danny-devitowo @clubfairy @loser-keiji @oi-itsemily @alm334 @the-katastrophe @wreny24 @applecakeradio @unicornblood4ever @aha-red @brendalopez99 @spacecluster @justonemoreepisode199 @strawbrinkofdeath @aikochan4859 @chaotic-tieflings @dreamsofficialwife @where-thesundoesntshine @jamiealenaa @unstableye @kageyamama-hinatatata @officiallyunofficialperson @secretly-a-weeb @localsimp @loxbbg @rhymeorreason1 @flubblubbb @kiritokunuwu @sylumarts @raining13lemonade @aiyncel @ghostfacefricker6969 @avengemepercy​ @modyoonie​ @sapnapsupremaci​ @donttellaweirdweakling​ @dreamiewrites​ @misfortunatem00n​ @mayempress @strang-ersclub​ @panic-at-space-camp​ @netheriteaxes​ @kaqinq​ @momo-has-a-gun​ @lunelicmoone​ @beller-18 @bluechocolatemint​ @mythicalamphitrite​ @crypticcandi​ @80sfeel​ @asianfrustration13​ @justanunknown​ @libbynotfound​ @osculatcr​ @bindythedemon​ @haikyall​ @hyuckslytherin​ @thatonearieschild​ @the-perfect-gemini​ @ialexabsuniverse​ @sleepingalaska​ @renjunniex​ @rebellionburnsthemup​ @moonchildwildx​ @sarcasticmichelle​ @carat-eri​ @ravennightingaleandavatempus​ @isthatyouritalian​ @sunf10w3r-f31ld​ @suwunarin​ @bxsmentchildxx​  @sunbunniie​ @mintchip17 @vincent-stargogh​ @jules-skye​ @askgeoff​ @d-fendyr​ @diedestress​ @idiotinnit​ @gabbysblogthingy​ @call-me-soap​ @fujiapfel @stxrryb1tch​ @onlynarry​ @squarky-sheep​ @ecao @ok-honey​ @saltishima-rex​ @kodzukatcore​ @gwendolyn02​ @kiwismoothies​ @flippyninja​ @xfihvru @anqelanqel @letkeefeswear​ @cantaloupe-draws​ @what-is-the-creature-oh-glob @theboywhocriedlupin​

[scottybrock]

Freak The Freak Out - Jade West

When Jade and Cat came to you and told you about what happened at Karaoke Dokie, you were seething. When they asked you for help, you were immediately on board. You tried to ignore the way Jade’s brilliant blue eyes lit up, and the charming (and rare!) smile she directed at you. Cat squealed, tackling you into a hug. You wrapped your arms around the petite redhead. Jade scowled, her brows furrowing as she watched you hug her best friend, wishing it could be her in your arms instead. 

She’d broken up with Beck a few months prior, when she realized that her attraction to you could no longer be denied. Beck was understanding, encouraging her to pursue you. After all, he just wanted her to be happy, even if she couldn’t be happy with him. Jade was in love with you- had been since the moment she’d laid eyes on you. She was a finicky person, but even in her eyes, you were perfect, from the way that you looked down to your personality. She loved your laugh, your smile. She wanted to know what it was like to kiss you, to hold you tight and never let go. However, her feelings weren’t as unrequited as she thought they were. Jade intrigued you, fascinated you. She was drop-dead gorgeous and her witty humor amused you to no end. You understood her in ways that her friends couldn’t, loved every part of her. You were irrevocably in love with Jade West. 

“So,” Jade’s voice was sharp. You pulled away from Cat, who clung onto your arm, hugging it to her. Jade scowled at her, then turned to face you. “What’s the plan?” Jade asked, her pretty blue eyes focused on you. You grinned at her. “Leave that to me, babe,” You winked. Jade’s eyes widened, her face flushing cranberry red. Your grin just grew, and Cat giggled, nudging you. Jade’s lips curved into a soft smile, her face still quite red. “Okay,” She replied, her voice uncharacteristically soft. Your grin softened into something much warmer, something much more real. “Okay,” You repeated. Jade’s soft smile grew wider, and she focused her gaze onto her shoes, worried that if she blushed any more, she’d spontaneously combust. She’d love that, but not before she had the opportunity to see if she could have something real with you; something that could possibly last forever. 

You showed up to Jade’s house the next evening. She opened the door, her brows furrowing. “Hi?” She asked. “I’m looking for Jade West,” You lisped, adjusting the prosthetic nose currently adorning your face. “Uh,” Jade hesitated. “Who are you?” You fixed the glasses, then adjusted your bulky sweater. “Louise,” You snickered. “Louise Nordoff.” Jade’s expression changed to one of confusion. “You have the wrong address,” She snapped, getting ready to slam the door in your face. You stuck your foot in the doorway, then whipped off the nose and glasses. She gaped at you. 

Cat appeared in the background, looking rather horrified. “You look hideous!” Cat chirped, earning her an elbow to her ribs. Your grin sharpened. “That’s all part of the plan, Cat.” You replied. Jade reached out, cupping your face in her hands. “But you have such a gorgeous face,” She pouted, giving your cheeks a little squeeze. “Why would you want to distort that?” You blushed bright red, your lips curving into a soft smile. It might have just been your imagination, but you swore Jade’s eyes flickered down to your lips. She swallowed, almost imperceptibly, then released you. “So, tell us this brilliant plan of yours,” Jade requested. However, she didn’t step back any further, delighting in the way your eyes twinkled mischievously. 

You arrived at Karaoke Dokie, sitting at a table. You watched as Jade and Cat walked over to Hayley and Tara, challenging them to pick a random opponent to sing against. Their eyes zeroed in on you, and you tried your hardest to seem as unassuming and unthreatening as possible-- it worked. Hayley and Tara stalked over to your table and propositioned you to a singing challenge. You timidly accepted, much to the untalented hags’ delight. 

After Hayley and Tara’s lackluster performance that earned half-hearted applause from the audience, you took your position. “I would like to sing ‘Freak The Freak Out.’” You requested. The DJ looked skeptical, questioning your song decision. “I would like to sing it now, please!” You screeched. 

The song began, and you awkwardly danced around the stage. While your voice was amazing, your appearance seemed to make the decision for the audience. However, the audience shouted in approval when you took your glasses off, chucked the fake nose behind you, and began to unbutton the admittedly comfortable, but hideous sweater. You removed your wig, then fluffed your hair as you continued to sing. You heard Jade’s scream of approval and grinned smugly at Tara and Hayley, who looked stunned. 

You jumped onto their table, dancing as you sang. You glanced down and noted the basket of food. Your mind flashed back to their horrid treatment of Cat and Jade, and your eyes narrowed. You kicked the basket of food, and it landed on Hayley’s lap. She shrieked in horror, and Tara glared daggers at you. You simply winked in response. 

Nearing the end of the song, you beckoned Jade and Cat onto the stage. Jade danced next to you, throwing her arms in the air and swinging her hips back and forth. You nearly lost track of what you were doing. Her beautiful blue eyes shone with genuine happiness, her full lips stretched out into a wide grin. Cat bounced along beside you, nudging you closer to her best friend. 

As the song came to the end, and the audience roared with approval, you turned to Jade, your breath catching in your throat; you and Jade were only inches apart, her breath fanning softly over your face. Her perfect features were one of hope. You leaned in further, dropping the microphone. It rolled to your feet, but you took no notice of it, only focused on the flawless woman in front of you. Her eyes twinkled beneath the multi-colored lights, her lips slightly parted as if inviting you to take that step- to do what you’d wanted to do since you met her. 

Your fingers trembled slightly as you gripped her chin, tilting her face to yours. You took a deep breath, forgetting that you were onstage. Cat was watching, her eyes wide but her grin even wider. You pulled Jade close with your free arm, waiting for her to pull back and possibly stab you with a pair of scissors that you knew she’d have somewhere on her person. 

Instead, she nestled closer, her eyelids falling shut. Your lips pressed against hers, hungry and wanting, but softly and sweetly. It was everything you had dreamed of. Her lips were as soft as silk, and her fingers tangled in your hair, wanting to pull you as close as she possibly could. She pressed against you, her hands drifting down to your waist, as if she wanted to memorize every part of your body. The applause became muffled background noise, with Cat and Beck cheering the loudest, screaming with joy at the top of their lungs. 

When air became a problem, you slowly pulled away, tentatively opening your eyes. Jade’s beaming smile knocked the remaining air out of your lungs, and you softly gasped. Her eyes scanned your face, her cheeks flushing slightly. “You love me,” She breathed. She could feel it in the kiss; no one had ever kissed her like that, made her feel this disgustingly mushy and soft. You blinked at her, your lips curving into a (fucking adorable, Jade noted) shy smile. “I do,” You replied. You thought you could hear Beck’s triumphant yell, but ignored it for the moment. “I love you, Jade West,” Your voice was soft, only for the two of you to hear. “I’m in love with you, West.” 

Jade’s sapphire eyes glistened, and she pulled you into a warm embrace. Holding Jade felt like the most natural thing in the world- like you were born to be in Jade’s life somehow, whether it was as a pining best friend, soul mate, etc. Her cheeks flushed most adorably. “Well, it’s a damn good thing that I love you, too.” Jade replied, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. You beamed up at her, nodding towards the back entrance. “Wanna head out?” You asked, batting your eyelashes at her. 

Jade shrugged, fine with either staying or going. “We could go, but we'd miss the results of the competition.” Jade stated. She shrugged again. You rolled your eyes playfully at her, then steered her in the direction of Beck and Cat. “Honestly, I already won my prize,” You retorted smugly. Jade rolled her eyes, but a smirk flitted across her face. “You’re so cheesy,” She teased lightly. You tilted your head at her, pouting. “But you love me anyways, don’t you?”  

Jade’s expression softened immediately and a soft, sweet, gentle smile flitted over her face. “I do,” She replied, brushing stray hair out of your face. You leaned into the touch, welcoming it. “I really, really do. I love you.”

[queenshelby]

Fan with Benefits (Part Two)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 2,229

Warning: Smut

Notes: As usual, this is fiction and has nothing to do with Cillian’s real life.

Just after you gotten of the phone with Cillian, your friend and roommate Katherine asked you who it was and, when you told her, it almost blew her mind.

‘He is coming here? Oh my god’ she said almost shocked before asking you the all-important question as to whether you wanted her to leave when he did.

‘It’s fine. He is just coming here to sign the paperwork for the artwork he is buying’ you explained.

‘To your apartment? Common, don’t be so naïve. It’s a booty call’ Katherine said and you surely hoped that it was, although you didn’t want to get your hopes up. After all, you knew that he was married.

After a bit more conversation, Katherine convinced you to be prepared, freshly shaved and showered and told you that she would leave at around 6 o’clock.

***

At 4 o’clock you attended your usual yoga class and, in order to save some time, you had a shower at the gym following your class before making your way back home so that you could tidy up and apply some make up.

To your surprise, when you walked into the apartment building, you saw Cillian sit on one of the arm chairs near the elevators.

‘You are early’ you said as you returned.

‘Yes, I am. I ended up getting an earlier flight and texted you’ Cillian then said and you quickly pulled out your phone and realised that he had, indeed, texted you but you didn’t see this message until now.

‘Sorry, I have been out and didn’t check my phone’ you said nervously. You were worried that Katherine had left the apartment in a mess, giving you no chance to tidy up now before Cillian’s arrival.

***

‘Common in’ you said as you reached the second floor of the building and unlocked the door to your apartment. You were impressed that Katherine had not only picked up after herself as promised, but even had left on a couple small lamps to dim the living room slightly.

To your surprise, there also was glassware on the kitchen counter, a fresh bottle of red wine and a packet of condoms which you hoped Cillian wouldn’t notice. You could imagine the inevitable interrogation to ensue the next day, regardless of what happened and you were embarrassed beyond believe.

‘Red wine and condoms?’ Cillian chuckled as he looked towards the kitchen counter and your cheeks turned red immediately and you wanted to sink into the ground.

‘Oh my god. Uhm, this stuff belongs to my roommate’ you explained shyly and nervously, causing Cillian to laugh.

‘Are you sure? Because there is a note saying “Y/N, just in case you need them. Have fun”’ Cillian laughed, reading out the little note that Katherine had stuck to the packet of condoms.

‘Uhm, yeah, no, this stuff is hers. I know nothing about this’ you huffed out with total embarrassment.  

‘That’s a shame. I really felt like a glass of wine and perhaps something else as well’ Cillian winked as he placed the packet of condoms and note back onto the kitchen counter.

‘Uhm, well, you can…I mean we can…aren’t you married?’ you then stammered.  

‘My wife doesn’t mind. In fact, I told her about the nice young lady I met at the gallery last night’ Cillian then said, moving closer towards you.

‘So, is this why you are here?’ you asked nervously, biting your lip.

‘I thought that was obvious’ Cillian then chucked and you felt even more embarrassed than before.

You shook your head nervously. It wasn’t obvious to you at all.

‘Well, obviously your friend thought it was obvious’ Cillian then chuckled and, just as he did, one of his hands caressed your cheeks.

‘She did’ you said before taking up all of your courage and leaning forward towards him which is when his lips met yours in a tentative kiss

‘How did you know that I would want to sleep with you?’ you then asked after your lips drifted apart.

‘I didn’t. I was just being hopeful. Although, I saw the way you kept looking at me last night’ he then said as he leaned against you, pressing your shorter frame against the kitchen counter, and kissing you again.

Your mouths were totally connected now.Your tongues were swirling, darting and exploring each other while the kiss refused to end.

His hands were moving up your sides, gently pressing in against the swell of your ample breasts. At the same time, you digged your fingernails into his back and then grabbed hold of his neck, desperately pulling his face closer towards you.

The smell of his chest and cologne was intoxicating and you were lost in a trance. Was this really happening?

***

‘Where is your bedroom Y/N? I am all for comfort’ Cillian chuckled as your lips drifted apart and he pulled four condoms out of the packet Katherine had left on the counter for you.

‘Four? Do we really need that many?’ you asked surprised while Cillian’s fingertips had begun meandering up and down your forearm.

‘Well, as you have already pointed out, I am married so this will be a one-night thing and I really want to make the most of it’ Cillian then whispered into your ear as your skin bristled at the sensation on your arm and you relished his scent.

‘So, I guess I will be sore tomorrow then, hmm?’ you asked seductively, biting your lip.

‘It’s likely, but I will make it worth it for you. Despite, I will make use of all you have to offer so that your already soaking pussy can have a rest in between’ Cillian then said in between more and more kisses while he slid one of his hands beneath your dress and panties, collecting some of your juices with his fingers.  

You couldn’t help but moan and wanted him to keep his hands right there, in between your legs, but he didn’t.

‘Common, I want to taste you’ Cillian then said, taking you by the hand and urging you to show him to your bedroom.

***

Within less than a minute, you found yourself completely naked on your large Queen bed while Cillian stood in front of it, wearing nothing but his tight blue jeans.

You took it all in, his scent, the glow of his freckled skin and the feel of the little bit of hair on his chest.

Never, in your wildest dreams, did you think that you would ever get to have this man and, whilst you were a little inexperienced, you decided that you would let him have it all. All of you, just as he had requested.

‘What are you waiting for Mr Murphy? I am all yours’ you said eagerly, waiting for him on the bed.

‘Just admiring the view’ Cillian said as he was taking off his watch and placing it onto your dresser along with his phone before climbing onto the bed with you.

When he did, you anticipated him to kiss you but he had other things in mind.

‘Spread your legs’ he demanded and, without thought your legs parted and his head disappeared in between them almost eagerly.

Without warning, his tongue immediately located the hood of your clit, causing you to scream out loud.

Your reaction clearly made him smile as, with all of the anticipation and new sensations, a cold sweat beaded up on your brow.

‘So fucking wet, aren’t you?’ Cillian groaned as his tongue kept swirling around your clit and then, occasionally, slid up and down in between your slit, lapping up your juices.

You flooded your channel as Cillian almost sent you over the edge with his skilled tongue alone and, in that moment, two of his fingers slid over your wet folds, slowly parting your well lubricated lips and entered you.

‘Oh my god’ you groaned as your flower opened and the invaders found the way to your previously unexplored g-spot.

He manipulated you, edging you slowly with his thrusting fingers and tongue. He had you on the brink and you were about cum.

‘Oh god Cillian’ you moaned again as chills ran up both your legs and you trembled involuntarily. Your orgasm hit you right then and there, fast and hard and somewhat unexpectedly.

You came all around Cillian’s fingers within five minutes and, whilst you were almost embarrassed by how quick you came, he was rather pleased with himself.

‘So needy. I will have a lot of fun with you’ he observed as you finally came down from your high and allowed you some time to relax.

When you had finally recovered from your intense orgasm, Cillian pulled you off the bed.

Then he took a step closer to you and immediately started undoing his belt buckle and opening his fly. You instinctively dropped to your knees with a smile on your face and as he unzipped his pants you grabbed the waistband of his jeans and his Calvin Klein briefs and began slowly tugging them down.

First you saw his dark pubic hair, then the top of his cock shaft, and as you pulled his bottoms further down his cock sprang forth in all its erect glory. You actually jumped a little when it leaped out at you, a fact that he noticed.

‘Are you going to be a good girl and take my cock all the way into your mouth?’ he asked in a deep voice, sending shivers down your spine.

‘I sure will, after I have a little play with it first’ you replied as you took his cock in your hand eagerly. This was all you had ever fantasised about and wanted to take in everything, the look of it, the feel of it and its scent.

At first you just stroked Cillian’s cock slowly and observed it as it began to swell even more in your hand. You moved in closer to get your other hand on his balls and you could smell his musk. It was intoxicating to you! As you gently massaged Cillian’s testicles you could feel how full they were and you couldn't help it anymore. you needed to taste him.

You stuck out your tongue and licked his shaft from his balls all the way up to the tip. Then you swirled your tongue around the tip a few times as he growled under his breath. Finally, you completely enveloped Cillian’s cock head with your lips and started sucking him. You let lots of saliva dribble out of your mouth to keep the shaft lubricated as you continued to stroke him.

‘Fuck, that’s it’ Cillian groaned as you kept at it, working his shaft with one hand, massaging his balls with the other, and sucking him for several minutes. He had his hands on your head guiding his cock in and out of your mouth.

Eventually, Cillian tightened the grip he had on the back of your head and pushed you further down on his shaft until, finally, he bottomed out against the back of your throat.

You gagged, saliva dripping out of your mouth as the wetness in between your legs was building.

‘You are doing so fucking well’ he groaned again as you gave into his force and let him take your mouth as you were moaning around his thick member.

Eventually, Cillian released his grip against your head and let you get back to work at your own pace, and you continued giving him a slobbery blowjob. This time, you forced yourself further and further down his long shaft, making yourself gag and listening to him groan in approval.

One of your hands kept a firm grip on his balls while the other stroked him up and down in tempo with your head bobbing.

His groans were getting louder and you moaned softly against him, slurping loudly as you moved, letting his cock hit or lightly ease into your throat every time you sank down. You gave him long strides, really making sure all of his cock was getting some form of attention.

‘Fuck’ he murmured, starting to squirm. ‘I am close’ he then groaned and you were really curious what his cum would taste like.

Cillian’s groans and moans just made you work harder. You wanted his orgasm to be nice and intense, so you ramped up the speed and your slurping noises were getting even louder as you milked his cock faster.

Cillian’s hand found its way back to your head, his fingers getting locked in your hair as he got closer and closer until finally, he started to cum.

‘Fuck’ he groaned again as his hips twitched upwards, trying to get deeper into your mouth as he filled it with his load.

‘I want to watch you swallow it Love’ he groaned as he held your head against his cock while he filled your mouth. His cum was so thick and sweet and coated your tongue, making you drool even more as you collected it all in your mouth.

Then, finally, he released the grip on your head and pulled away from you and lifted up your cum filled mouth for him to see.

‘Show me’ he groaned, still coming down from his high and you complied with his request and opened your mouth, moving your cum covered tongue around seductively.

Then, you closed your mouth again and swallowed down his load, gulping slightly as you did before licking your lips clean seductively.

‘So fucking sexy’ Cillian huffed out before pulling you up and towards him.

He pressed his lips onto yours and practically growled, wrapping his arms around you and kissing you ferociously which was when, suddenly, his phone began to ring.

 Tag List:

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @ @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r  @tellingyouastory  @captivatedbycillianmurphy​  @namelesslosers​  @littlewhiterose​  @ttzamara​  @ttzamara @cilleveryone  ​

@peaky-cillian​

@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy​  

[lilith-of-rivia]

Chapter 1: The Meeting

Summary: Ina of Cintra the Lioness's firstborn daughter has been a well-kept secret. her title as princess never leaving the castle walls, her abilities, abnormalities not being uttered without the blessing of the queen. She has her entire life planned and guided so she doesn't break the Crown's rules. She has been an outstanding model of good behavior, that's until she meets a certain witcher.

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: Blood and gore, swearing, mentions of death

I

“Ma’am…” Knock, knock, knock. I had heard whoever it was coming to wake me up before they even got to my door.

“Yes?” I heard them hold their breath, they weren’t expecting me to be awake.

“Uh-uh yes ma’am, Druk is outside. He has sent for you.”

“Yes thank you. I’m awake.” I said as I rose from my bed. Folding at the hips my fingers gazed at the floor as I yawned in a stretch. My spins cracked along with my shoulders.

“Yes of course ma’am” There were no footsteps and the heartbeat was still there outside the door.

“You may leave now.”

“Right right, yes ma’am.” Scurried light footsteps filled the empty hall as they left.

With a heavy sigh, I contemplated the day I had ahead of myself. Mornings with Druk were never different. The day was was one full day of drills, day two was one different full day of drills than to day three, four, five, then repeat next week. Druk wasn’t like other witchers I had met. He wasn’t focused on the coin or glory. Maybe it’s because he saw his brothers and mentors be slaughtered when his Keep fell.

“Knock knock.” My eyes snapped to the door of my room, dragging attention away from the gauntlet on my. My mother stood at the door. She was still in her sleep clothes, a wool robe hugged her body as she smiled softly at me from the door.

“Morning mother,” I said looking back at my gauntlet, huffing in frustration as I struggled to get them tied.

Wordlessly my mother walked across the room, grabbing my arm as she sat in the chair across from the one I was in. her fingers delicately tied the strings tightly, the gauntlets tightening around my wrists. Once finished, she softly held one of my hands, her face was cold, stoic as always. But once she looked me in the eyes I saw the fear.

“You know, don’t you…” I nodded my head. Looking out the window of my room, breaking eye contact. I stood up walking from her to the armored cabinet in my room. I grabbed my two swords from their hooks looking over them and assessing their sharpness.

“I heard you and the court talking last night. Many in this castle forget I have super hearing.” I heard her sigh heavily, shakily.

“I’m so sorry, Ina…” I turned to her. Her gaze was on the floor, her chest rising and falling fast.

“Mum...don’t cry…” I crouched down by her side, my hands going to hers squeezing them. She looked back at me, one hand cupping my face. Her thumb softly brushed over the scar on my left cheek.

“I’m so sorry I brought you into this world...Into this life...I wish I had known your life would be so painful…” I leaned into her warm hand, my eyes closing as she spoke.

“Stop blaming yourself...everything happens for a reason...and no matter what happens after the meeting today...I will always love you.” Her hand moved from my face to my neck. She pulled me into her chest, hugging me tightly.

“I’m so sorry.” Hse sobbed into my hair, rocking us back and forth. I said nothing, just kept my arms around her, holding her while she sobbed. Her tears wetting the spot she laid on my shoulder.

“Don’t be…”

II

“You know princess, I do not normally wait. You are lucky the gold and wine your mother gives is so good.” Druk’s voice was below a whisper as we snuck through the damp dark woods. My hands felt the tree bark under us as we slowly tipped around the fallen trees, as to make as little noise as possible. Funny with Druk’s big mouth.

“My mother is very worried about the meeting tonight,” I whispered back, following him as he weaved in and around the thickly wooded forest. We were hot on the trails of a stray kikimore that had been terrorizing a southern village. Druk and I were sent to take care of it.

“Are you worried?” Druk asked, pausing to look back at me.

I stopped too for a moment, thinking about his question.

My eyes searched the forest around us while we sat in silence. The forest was no longer lush and green. Late Saovine meant the world was cold, covered in ice and snow. Nothing was awake. All the animals were in hibernation, birds had flown south for the winter. The only things still awake were the monsters.

“No. I’m not. Should I be?” Druk looks away from me, his amber eyes searching the forest around us.

“Tonight is the night a pannel of witchers, mages, and the royal court you belong to decide if you go through the trials...maybe a little of fear. It would be healthy.” I smirked and rolled my eyes.

“Fear isn’t necessary for my vocabulary.” Druk laughed softly, his head nodding as he looked me in the eyes again.

“Then don’t be afraid. Fuck em all. If any woman could survive the trials it’s you.” Once finished with his small sentiment, a cheesy grin spread across his face. He nodded his head in the direction of the kikimore and we both rook off after it again.

Our feet lept, ran, jumped, and sprinted across the fallen trees and rocks throughout the forest. The snow-covered ground would cause too much noise. Druk had gone to the Witcher school of the cat. He prides himself on his ability to remain stealthy and quiet, all while being just as lethal as witchers from other schools. He taught me to only put my feet on the ground when it really mattered. You’re much easier to be tracked and killed when you travel foot to the ground. But foot to a tree to rock is a different story.

Jumping from a rock onto a tree we scaled the side till we were above the tree line. Out heads stuck up and out of the dead branches. Our chests rising and falling heavily as we looked around, noses sniffing out the location of the kikimore. The high point giving us the advantage. Druk’s yellow eyes scanned the trees below while I sniffed the wind. He had better eyes than I. his mutations to thank for that. The wind blew softly and the thick smell of iron and rotting corpses seeped into my nostrils and filled my head.

“To the east,” I said quietly. Druk adjusted his direction eyes grazing the land elbow us. A small smirk graced his lips, he found it.

“It about four hundred yards northeast. Common princess no time to waste.” We quickly scaled our way down the tree till our feet were steady on the branches. He wasn’t wrong, we were already out way longer than we were intending. Meaning we were going to be late for the meeting.

Druk took the lead. His hand holding the hilt of his silver swords. His other hand out in front of him, his fingers gleaming with a soft blue tint. Aard was spoken in elder inaudible to the average human. He was prepared to blast the kikemore to give me more time to ambush it. Druk only ever took the lead, then he’d stand back and watch. He’d teach me a new skill by charging whatever beast. Whether it was a new sign manipulation, a new combat skill, or hell even how he wields his sword. He started, I’d then follow and clean up.

“Ready Ina?” There was a soft pop and a cork fell onto the ground below us with a soft thud. His head fell back the liquid pouring down his throat. He grimaced slightly before turning to me, his eyes were black as night, now white to be seen. The veins on his neck, face, and hands were dark black and bulging. The potion was vital for witchers, giving them heightened senses, and skills. Allowing their powers to increase.

“So fucking ready,” I said, a smile gracing my lips. He returned the smile, his more sinister with the help of his eyes.

My sword was in hand. The silver catching the few rays of sun peeking through the clouds above. We both moved silently through the brush. Out feet feather-light against the snow. We moved fast, never keeping pressure on one spot too long to not break the crust of the snow. Druk made it to the clearing first. The Kikimore was alerted to us as soon as we reached its small nest.

Druk’s hand thrust out in front of himself, a huge ball of blue light smacked into the kikimore, throwing it back and hard into the tree. Druk sheathed his sword and ducked behind me. The kikimore shook its head before it made eye contact with me. I crouched lower to the ground, eyeing the beast. It slowly started to move to its left, so I mimicked it. We slowly began circling one another. The Kikimore’s large gray limbs stabbed into the ground with every step. Its gross snarly face, red beady eyes looking me over, studying my every move. The only issue was I knew where and how it would be.

The kikimore pounced, its legs kicking up dirt as it tore after me. The short distance between us was gone in no time. I lunged out of the way. Diving and rolling away from the clumsy beast. I was much smaller, giving me an advantage.

“My my what an ugly fucker you are.” I mocked. The beast turned to me again, and let out a low grumbly growl. I was moving closer to its nest. I could smell the rotting bodies even worse as I moved slowly. My eyes never leaving the kikimore.

It charged again. I slashed my sword through the air, spinning around, splicing my sword up in the air. The kikimore squealed and screamed as its leg fell from its body. Spinning on my heels my sword slashed through the air again, making contact with its neck. The sword slashed through the beast’s thick, fat neck like butter. The screams stopped, the kikimore’s body falling limp on the ground, blood-spewing, and pooling on the ground and around my boots. I sighed heavily, a smile gracing my lips again as I whipped the dark black blood from my blade before sliding back into its sheath on my back.

Clap, clap, clap. “Very well done princess!! A full-grown warrior kikimore down in two strikes, no potions or magic!” Druk had a smile ear to ear, his potion still in effect. Seeing a laughing, happy smiling witcher with pure black eyes was a sight to see.

“Only as good as my mentor my dear friend,” I said with a laugh. Crouching to the ground, my hand gathering the small tuft of hair atop the kikimore’s head and lifted it so it was eye level with me. Blood dripped from its mouth, nose, and eyes. Its dark purple tongue hung out of its mangled mouth.

“Add another one to my list.”

III

“Common hurry Druk!!” I yelled through the rain as we ran up the cobblestone road towards the castle. The kikimore’s head swung over my shoulder. “We are already late they will have my head!!” Druk ran from the stables after me, quickly catching up with me right as I neared the doors.

The two guards opened them for us as we walked through. I breathed heavily, my lips blue as my teeth chattered. Despite my many abnormal traits I still got just as cold as the average human. The rain had come out of nowhere. The two of us speed walk down the corridor, our muddy boots squeaking against the marble floors as we got closer to the royal library. A place I’d only ever been when I was being threatened by the crown’s court. The doors appeared ahead of us as we both halted before we could be close enough to be heard. The floor below us was wet as we dripped head to toe.

Glancing at Druk I gulped, now that I was about to walk into the room, I was more than terrified. The prospect of the trials was so much closer than they had ever been my entire life. Druks hand went to my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You’ve got this.” He whispered, before giving me a soft push towards the door. I took a deep breath before shoving the door open, swallowing the fear and placing the stoic look of my mother back on my face.

The voices in the room stopped when I walked in. my boots stopping heavily on the floor. My eyes glanced around the room, everyone there were people I have known for many years. My mother stood in the center of the room by her throne, my sister who was not supposed to be here was next to her. They looked scared.

“Sorry, I’m late, had a prior arrangement.” I heaved the beast’s head over my shoulder and threw it on the floor. It flopped down and rolled a little its tongue falling out as its cold dead eyes stared up at Gadri, a member of the Crowns Court. His face scrunched in disgusts before he kicked it away from his shoes.

“You are nearly three hours late, Ina.” I rolled my eyes my attention going back to my mother and sister.

“What is she doing here?” I asked pointing to my sister.

“We think it’s important that the future queen gets to help make choices regarding her subjects.” Hazzez, a plump fat little man with a bald shiny head and large white mustache and beard said standing from his seat.

I huffed, the corner of my lip pulling into a sly smirk as I shook my head. Water falling on the floor.

“Yes, the future queen who passes her sister even tho her sister is the senior. Yes, and my sister needs to be in control of whether I will be subjected to the trials and if I’ll die or not.” Druks witcher attitude tended to rub off on me. Witchers are trained, to be honest, overly honest. Blunt and rude is what many present them as.

“Ina. enough.” my mother said sternly, her jaw tightening. I bite my tongue nodding my head. My fingers pulled at the buttons of my jacket, throwing it on the floor in a wet pile. The room was cold, making the wet clothes on my body send shivers down my spine.

I glanced around the room, eyeing the other members of the Crown’s Court. And then the other few people who were in the room. Tissaia, a mage from Aretuza smiled at me fondly as we made eye contact.

“Hello, princess, my how you’ve grown.” Her voice filled the empty room. I smiled back at her.

“Tissaia-” I bowed my head to her softly, “yes, it’s been a while hasn’t it? What 15 years?”

“17 years.” my mother chimed in behind me.

“Whos the mystery man next to you?” I asked her, she glanced over at the witcher who was perched next to her. Druk was seated next to him.

“Well get to that in a second. Please sit down.” Hazzez said, gesturing to a lone isolated chare in the middle of the room.

It was as if I was on trial, for simply being born.

IV

“Druk how has she been doing?” My mother asked, her eyes glaring daggers at the five men who were attempting to discredit the years of work and training I had done with Druk.

Durk rose from his seat next to the other witcher, a bored look on his face. “She is exceptional. Not only her physical talents in combat and swords but her book knowledge. I’ve trained three other witchers before her, and none of them come close to the skills she posses. She is a skilled alchemist, a skilled swordsman, she is skilled in nearly every talent she tries. I would trust her in a battle to have my back any day. It has been an honor training her for 15 years, your highness.” I smiled at him, a smirk covering his lips.

“With all due respect your highness we are not interested in what the witcher from a failed school has to say. The witcher to his right has been watching her and keeping track of her success. That’s who we care about.”

Before the witcher could address them, Tissaia stood up. “What is the problem here gentlemen. On her fifth birthday, you all made this a rule. You said her abnormalities would only ever benefit her if she was trained as an assassin or a witcher. She has been trained for 17 years by a witcher, as a witcher. She has proven time and time again she doesn’t need the trials and mutations to be as skilled as a witcher.”

“Thank you, Tissaia, but need I remind you that you are only here to as a stand-in for the mage in your court who can still perform the mutations. Please sit down and be quiet.” My mother shot Tissaia a look, making her shut her mouth and sit down. The witcher next to Druk stood up.

“I have been following her and her trainer. For months now. Even just today I followed them while they killed the stray Kikimore. She killed the Kikimore with two strikes something many of my boys have struggled with as fully mutated and trained witchers. She without a doubt has a talent and a heart of the witcher.” I heard my mother’s breath catch in her throat as she held my sister’s hand. My sister was stating at me, had been since I sat down. Her face was painfully still, her throat tight as she breathed heavily. She looked scared, so did my mother.

“Tissaia, you will take Ina to Kear Morhen. Along with the mages in your court. The mutations will be done by the end of the week.” My throat ran dry. Hazzez kept talking but my brain tuned him out. None of us thought they would go through with this. The chances of me surviving the trials and the mutations were nearly impossible. Less than 20% of the boys who face the trials died. And the mutations are designed for male genetics, not females. I was never supposed to be mutated, just trained.

“Hazzez you piece of shit!!” My mother screamed as she stood from her chair. Her hand reached for the dagger she kept strapped to her thigh.

Her hand came down quickly with the shinny dagger, flying towards Hazzez face. My hands quickly caught her arms and I pushed her back. Knowing if she killed one of her court members over me I would surely be sent away and killed, no chance of survival.

“Mother mother please stop it please,” I screamed into her red, tear-stained face as she attempted to fight me off. Her chest rose and fell heavily. She hissed through her gritted teeth, she was probably breaking teeth.

“Queen Calanthe-” Hazzez spoke. I turned to look at him, my back to my mother. Her dagger is in my hand. I threw it to the floor, kicking it away. “Do not forget the sympathy the crown, and your father gave you for your bastard daughter. She should have been killed out of the womb. But your father cared too much for you. Count your blessing that you got 20 years with her, and at least she will die with a little bit of dignity.” Hazzez stood up to leave, the four men ready to follow him, they gathered their belongings.

“Gentlemen.” My mother said, her voice harsh and cold like the wind outside. Her brows set in a low glair as she looked them up and down. “I am still your queen, you do not get to control everything. It’s clear you’ve made your choice, but when it happens. That is my choice. She is my daughter. I choose when she goes with the witcher. I do not know when that will be but it will be after her sister’s betrothal. If you have an issue with that, find a new court to control.” the five men looked at her, then each other before nodding and walking out of the room silently.

My mother’s hands held my arms as she dragged me into her chest. My sister came up to us both, her hands wrapping around both my mother and me I. her head resting on my shoulder. Wrapping one arm around her and one around my mother, I let my fear fall. My fear came out in silent sobs. My shoulders shook, my eyes clouding as I stared at the wall behind my sister. The tears pooled down my face.

My mother pulled back, one hand on each of my cheeks, her fingers brushing my tears away.

“You will be the first female witcher to ever be. You will make history.” my shoulders started to shake more violently as I cried more. The impending end of my life is on the horizon. My mother’s denial was just to help her cope, but we both knew how it would end.

“Mum...we both know what will happen to me...I won’t survive it.” my voice was broken as I spoke caving as I cried. Her fingers moved faster to wipe my tears as she shushed me. My sister’s hands are on my arms and back.

“Even if that’s the case, it won’t be for at least another month. Live your life for the next month the way you want to, no regrets,-”

“No hesitations.” I interrupted her, a small smile tugging at my lips. Her eyes softened at me. She leaned in placing a soft kiss on my forehead.

“You can do this Ina. You are the Lioness Cub. If anyone can do it, it’s you.”

[stopeatingwhales]

"you're still blushing," x damon albarn

I haven't written something for damon in ages so here you all go <333

Pairing: 90s damon albarn x reader

Warnings: nothing :)

Word count: 2.214

༉‧₊˚✧

Having a roommate was always helpful for when you needed to cut the cost of rent, and to have company with someone that you got along with since you either were not far into relationships to be able to move in with a significant other, or you weren’t in a one - in which by having a roommate, made things less lonely. Me and Damon had known each other for quite some time now as Graham introduced us since Damon was looking for a flatmate at a time where, for some reason everybody seemed as though they were already occupied with people they were living with and sharing rent. Perhaps he was a little too late looking into it, but when Damon and I met, it was practically a match made in heaven. Though he wasn’t the first person I’d want to share a flat with, as I had no idea who he even was, just that he was best friends with somebody I was also friends with, he was perhaps, as oddly as it sounds, the best choice for a stranger to share a flat with. We had been living together since his band was working on their debut album, Leisure, and since then we had developed a very close relationship with one another. We both shared love for the same music, read the same books, and he had a personality which formed out of pure ardor and benevolence, which made it very easy to be able to form a strong bond together. It was very enjoyable living with him, as we wouldn’t avoid each other at all. Whenever both of us were present, there was nothing we would rather do than just spend time with one another. When nothing was going for us on weekends, we tended to just sit there on the couch in the living room, drinking warm, hot mugs of tea made by Damon at his advance, simply chatting about anything and everything. We would talk until the sun had gone down, until one of us had practically fallen asleep on the other, which was usually me, giving Damon the chore of putting me into bed, which I would constantly be thanking him for the following morning. At certain points in our friendship it was hard to distinguish whether we had feelings for each other, or if it was just a strong platonic relationship; other people had consistently pointed out our relationship together, and how we supposedly acted as if we were the happiest couple in the world.

After being asked whether me and him were together or not countless times, I had begun thinking about our relationship from an outsider's perspective, and over time I had realised that I was gaining feelings for Damon as I started to take notice of the little things that he would do. The warm smiles that he would give me; his plump, soft lips curving in a philanthropic manner, almost child-like, filled with pure love and adoration for you that you would instantly urge yourself to reciprocate. The unneeded care that would ensue once he realised that I was sick and needed a day off, bringing me a warm cup of tea in the morning, also mentioning that he wasn’t attending his band session later on in the day because I was his main priority, and that music could wait. The way he would rush into my room whilst I was organising my laundry, his lyric book gripped in his hand with a pen in the other, practically begging me to hear the new verse he had surprisingly conjured up in a couple of seconds - my opinion meaning so much to him that he would force me to read his finished songs, changing whatever I thought didn’t suit. And not to mention his features. His angelic, ocean-like orbs, where your eyes would get lost in them instantaneously; causing you to wonder what sort of resplendent alchemy went forth in creating such adoring pools of blue; his foolproof nose, sculpted in everlasting beauty, locked in the middle of his face, showing there was no flaw in his features, that he was the definition of true excellence, and though not a part of his face, the hair from his fringe that would coat over his forehead ever so softly, so elegantly, the strands, though roughly brushed through, looked as if they had been done professionally by his hairdresser. You were unable to pinpoint a flaw on him - he was the embodiment of elegance. You’d simply wonder whether this kind of beauty exists, and to have it living with me, was unequivocally something my heart was unable to handle.

Stepping into the flat that we both shared, I quickly took my shoes off before locking the door. As I wandered around the apartment, the aroma of smoke was easily identifiable, implying that Damon was inside, and smoking. Once I reached the living space, I saw Damon was sitting on the couch, flicking through the channels on the TV. “You alright?” I asked him, leaving the shopping bags on the countertops of the kitchen. He turned to look at me, a sweet smile painted on his lips before he took another drag from his cigarette. Oh, to be that cancer stick.

“I’m alright.” He replied, putting out his cigarette on the glass ashtray in front of him, then getting up to help me with the groceries. “How are you, love?”

“I’m okay. I managed to get everything we needed before we both died from starvation.” I laughed, folding up the now-empty bags that were once brimmed to the full of things we needed.

My gaze was fixed on him as he shut the fridge door as I leaned my tired body on the counter, him making his way after shutting the door to stand as close to me as he could. There was practically no empty space between us as he held me in an embrace, his face hidden into my neck as he played with strands of my hair gently. “I missed you,” He uttered, my heart now swelled in adoration for the man that was holding me, unaware if my body was able to handle more of his tauntings. Once he pulled out of the embrace, he clung onto my hands whilst staring deeply into my eyes. I couldn’t help but blush deeply as I looked into his eyes, getting lost in the essence of his handsomeness. I noticed his warm smile form into a cheeky grin as I realised that he knew I was going red. “You’re blushing.”

Slightly embarrassed, I scrunched my face together and looked down to the ground. There was no way out of it, one day he was going to find out just how much I had grown a liking for him. Instead of responding, I moved away from the situation and headed to sit on the couch, knowing that he would follow suit. Once we sat together, I grabbed the cigar pack that was left open on the table and put a cigarette between my lips, looking at Damon as a form of asking where the lighter was. He immediately grabbed the lighter from his pocket and pressed it, causing a flame to come out. I leaned closer to him to allow him to light the roll of tobacco, my eyes not daring to move away from the sight of the flame. I felt his eyes staring intently at my features, the tension in the air being more prominent than it had ever been before. When it was lit, I instantly inhaled, exhaling sharply to expose the smoke that had quickly built up in my throat.

“What did you do today, Dames?” I asked him, attempting to instigate a conversation. His eyes were still lingering on me whilst my eyes tried everything they could to avoid embarrassing myself again, with another blush.

“Well I went in to do some recording, today was mainly for Graham’s guitar solo so we finished up early,” he answered, walking to the fridge to grab himself a beer, then coming back to sit right next to me. “Graham tells me you’ve got a crush on someone.”

After almost choking on the smoke created in my lungs, I felt the blood rush to my cheeks yet again, the action moving so fast I could feel my cheeks begin to sting. “Ehm- He told you that?”

“So it’s true…” Damon began, placing his drink on the coffee table, a smirk evident on his features. “I thought he was lying, since we usually tell each other everything, but your face says otherwise.” He added, my heart panging slightly as I felt bad that he thought that I didn’t want to tell him. Oh if only he knew it was about him. If only he knew that what I haven’t been able to keep my mind off for weeks on end was him. If only he knew that he’s all that engulfs my mind.

“Who’s the guy?” He asked, as I felt his body shift ever so slightly closer to mine, wrapping an arm around my shoulder as he noticed my stiffness.

“You don’t know him.” I mumbled, staring down at my feet as I felt his breath fan my face slightly, the redness of my cheeks still prominent though I tried to ignore the heat radiating out of them.

“Describe him to me then.” He said, in a teasing manner. Part of me felt that Graham told Damon that it was him, and knowing Graham he probably would’ve done that since he was one of the many who believed that we would’ve been good together since we acted like it. But I wasn’t planning on jumping to any conclusions just yet.

“Uhh well…” I felt my cheeks heat up a bright red again as I looked in Damon’s direction, quickly snatching his beer off the coffee table and taking a sip of it to calm my nerves. “He’s got blond hair, blue eyes…” At this point I was staring deeply into Damon’s eyes, full-well knowing I was redder than ever, hell, I was a tomato. However, as I stared at him, I thought of all the possibilities and chances I would be able to mention to him that I developed feelings for him, and chances that would be handed to me easily. At most, I would probably be forced to go up to him and tell him myself that I liked him, which I had no courage in doing so in fear of absolute rejection. Though the fear of rejection still resonated in my mind deeply, there was definitely no way out of Damon and his questioning - he wanted to know everything, and he wanted to know it all now.

“Hmm… Sounds familiar,” he began, the smirk on his face not leaving any second. “Don’t suppose this crush has a name, does he?”

The next few seconds felt as if they had been stilled. Every single thought that I could have ever mustered in my mind joined themselves together, making my mind and body feel as if the moment we were living in was not real, at all. I felt breathless, ironic to the fact that I had been exhaling large clouds of smoke in the room, but I suppose even when breathing, you can still have your breath taken away from the sight before you. It felt as if I was in a haze, a drunken stupor, a lucid dream that felt far too realistic, but I had never thought that this moment would ever occur in mine and Damon’s time living together, or even in a child-like fantasy, or ever. Our faces were inches apart, my eyes constantly flicking through his bountiful orbs and smooth lips, his eyes fixated on mine, as if he was searching for something. Something to tell him that his suspicions were correct.

“It’s you for god’s sake.” I mumbled before eagerly conjoining my lips with his. I felt as if I rushed myself into it, the feeling enrapturing my mind, my body, and especially my heart. There was no other moment I had felt equated to this as our bodies embraced one another’s, the pair of us slowly allowing what was happening to melt into our minds. My heart was pounding as if my life had depended on it, my mind raced with thoughts so anxious but elated as both our bodies allowed our mouths to brush past one another’s until we were at a loss for breath. Love had never felt so strong, love had never carried this much emotion, this much integrity. I felt as if there was nothing else I had needed other than this moment to characterise its virtue, the intimacy shared overstimulated my emotions, for I felt like balling into tears at this juncture - not out of sadness, but out of pure admiration and alleviation that all this tension over the past couple months was real, that the love we had for each other was real, and not some fantasy that I invoked in my mind. Parting away from him, my eyes were fixated on his features - there was nobody else on this planet that could make me feel such emotion than him.

“You’re still blushing, love.”

[officerjennie]

Title: As the Clouds Whisp Overhead

Summary: Jaskier gets off on Geralt's soft thighs and tummy. Literally. Geralt relaxes back and lets him, enjoying the show. Weight gain spoken of positively. Pairing: Geraskier. WC: 3.5K+

CW: smut, brief mention of weight loss due to difficult times (past)

It had been a rather easy spring, all things considered.

Geralt lazed in the field, not really watching the clouds that drifted overhead, his eyes closed and breaths deepening into an almost meditative state. The smell of wine and cheese was almost drowned out by the wildflowers about them but it was still there, as was the scent of apples, salt, the road, and the lingering oils that Jaskier had insisted on wearing ever since he’d discovered Geralt’s nose was sensitive to the others that he used to reek of.

Said bard was currently shuffling their lunch about, putting most of it away for later, humming one of his newest tunes as he folded back up the blanket he’d apparently bought for just this occasion. Though they’d eaten plenty of meals without it or the basket he’d purchased at the market as well, Jaskier had insisted that a picnic was a special affair and deserved the right accessories to make it just right.

Geralt had just let him do as he wished, not worried about his friend’s coin purse - and not worried about his own, for once. Usually the end of winter spelled a time of heavy work for him but he’d lucked out on a couple of easy and well paying jobs right off the bat - so he thought a bit of down time wouldn’t be the end of the world for them.

The song on Jaskier’s lips was one he hadn’t quite finished yet. Geralt had already heard several different renditions of the first verse alone, lyrics tweaked here and there, the exact lilt of his voice changing back and forth as he tried to settle on what he believed would sound the best. And despite his occasional grumbling over the repetition it was a rather relaxing tune, one he didn’t mind listening to.

Beyond that, there was a sort of...intimacy that came with being trusted with Jaskier’s unfinished works. The knowledge that Jaskier wasn’t always his best around him, was able to fuck around with a song and riddle the air with curses of “bollocks” and “cock” while he tried and failed and tried again to make it just right. That Geralt could see him like this and not the perfected performance that he was to the rest of the world, the mask that was firmly in place right up until the moment he didn’t want it to be.

And that moment just so happened to frequently involve witchers, whether directly or indirectly. How many times had he gone feral on someone for just saying the wrong thing about one of Geralt’s colleagues? Just early that spring he’d jumped someone for spitting on the ground over Lambert’s name, and Jaskier hadn’t even met him yet.

Something like pride welled up in his chest at the thought, though it was a quiet thing. Jaskier should be more careful, he shouldn’t be fighting their fights - but it meant the world to him all the same that he wanted to. Especially for his brothers.

“You know, I’ve never been one for cheese and crackers as anything more than a snack, but that was simply delightful.” Jaskier’s voice came closer as he talked, and the flowers and grass were disturbed next to him as the bard flopped over at his side, quickly snuggling in when Geralt moved his arm to make room for him. “We’ll have to go back and ask again what the name of that cheese was. Never have I ever given so much thought to pairing and wines and all that stuff - my youngest sister was always more interested in that sort of thing, and really if I heard her say one more time that my palette wasn’t refined enough I might have had to hide frogs in her bed again.”

Jaskier settled in nicely at his side, slotting in like they were made for each other, fit perfectly together. He chattered away and Geralt mostly tuned him out, something Jaskier loved to fake hurt over though they both knew it was just that: fake. Over the years Geralt had perfected hearing what he needed to hear and simply listened to the tune of Jaskier’s voice, the song of his highs and lows, his sighs and breaths and every heartbeat becoming the song that was his bard.

Meditation came easier around Jaskier than it did anyone else. Even around his own family it was a struggle. Lambert was a little shit at the best of times and Eskel simply existed larger than he wanted to, and Geralt was always tuned into his brothers, paying attention to them because he knew just how limited theri time was together. But with Jaskier, he could rest, relax, simply let himself be like he’d never experienced with anyone else.

His arm rested at Jaskier’s back, hand loose on his side, barely hanging on and feeling his bard breath in and out as he spoke. Jaskier’s fingers tapped a rhythm where they were rested on his chest, though eventually they moved, sliding down to rest against his stomach and making Geralt hmm at the pleasant warmth they brought.

They’d stripped earlier to bathe in the nearby river and had mostly dressed, though Jaskier had forwent his doublet as Geralt had his armor. It was nice, being out in the wild, away from the faux sense of safety that inn rooms allowed them and yet still able to be this content without his armor on. Just their loose clothing, not enough to be considered decent in any sort of societal setting, simply existing and being and just…

Geralt was content, and he didn’t consider that a bad thing. Not in the slightest.

A breeze rustled the field about them, loose silver hair tickling his face though Geralt didn’t have the bother in him to brush it out of the way or tuck it behind his ear. The air smelled nice for once, no clogging dust on the wind, no rotting anything nearby nor farms to make his nose want to clog itself. Since the summer was still a ways off the sun wasn’t too harsh on his skin, his chemise enough to keep any possible chill away though it was warm enough in this part of the country, everything pleasant and not too much.

There was also a lovely set of fingers that had wormed their way under his chemise. Jaskier hadn’t bothered to push it up, had just scooted his hand underneath, and with very gentle circles had begun to rub patterns into the soft flesh there. It was enough to make Geralt melt beneath him, a soft hmm on his lips accompanied by a sigh as he felt his every muscle relax at the touch. The winter had been extra good to him, Eskel having returned with more coin than expected from his path which had meant more meat for their stews, and the lot of them had eaten extra well.

Jaskier had never shied away from letting him know exactly how much he appreciated it when he ate well. There had been a few times on their own path that food had been scarce, and despite witchers having an accelerated metabolism Geralt had always done his best to see after his bard first and foremost - so when times were tough his body showed it, and Jaskier had played his fingers raw when he saw the worst of it just to make sure the both of them could eat their fill.

But there had been no such worries or struggles yet this year, what with the good winter and the well paying contracts that had followed. Geralt’s stomach was full and soft, protecting the muscles and other important organs underneath, and the rest of him was showing the spoiling as well. His thighs had grown softer, somewhat straining against the material of his pants but it wasn’t quite uncomfortable yet - he knew well enough to keep his clothes somewhat baggy, to make room for the waxing and waning that came with the path. His chest, too, had grown softer, encouraging Jaskier to nuzzle into it at any given opportunity.

Those calloused fingers found some of the scars that ran across his belly, caressing them gently. Some stretch marks veined their way across his skin as well, hidden at the moment by his chemise but Jaskier felt his way across them all the same, giving off a gentle sigh as he snuggled in closer and traced his love wherever he could reach.

Geralt could not have thought of a more peaceful way to spend the afternoon. The clouds blurred as his eyes slid closed at the tender affection, his breaths deepening. Deep breaths in through his nose, smelling the wildflowers. A rabbit was nearby, chomping as quietly as it could on some grass, its hops barely whispers as it braved further away from its burrow. Geralt could hear the gentle chuffing of its babies hidden away, the call of a hawk overhead that sent the rabbit scurrying. The scent of budding trees, of a little mouse that had found some seeds to munch. The scent of his bard, his oils and shampoo and the hint of river on the both of them, and the growing scent of-

A snort brought them both a bit out of the peace, and Geralt cracked his eyes just enough to smirk down at the startled confusion growing on his bard’s face.

“Really?”

Those pretty pink lips pouted up at him as if Jaskier wasn’t fully aware of what was growing in his pants. Geralt made a show of raising one of his eyebrows, raking his gaze down, down his bard, straight to stare at his crotch just long enough to get his point across before flicking his eyes right back up.

It took a few seconds for his bard to catch up, Geralt watching the thoughts clear as day on Jaskier’s face, until red spread pretty across his cheeks and darkened the speckle of freckles there. Jaskier sputtered a bit and Geralt had to bite back a wider grin, starts to words that had no finish dropping between them before Jaskier cut himself off with a whine, ducking in to nuzzle into his chest and push the rest of his body closer.

“That’s not fair, Geralt - what, can you, I don’t know, smell it or something?”

Geralt didn’t respond to that, just reached up to tug a stray curl back behind Jaskier’s ear. His bard peeked up at him with another adorable pout jutting out his lower lip, his nose scrunched up as he waited for his ‘ridiculous suggestion’ to be shot down.

But it wasn’t shot down. And Jaskier frowned, and then he squeaked, climbing on top of Geralt to straddle him and poke a very firm finger straight into the chest he’d just been nuzzling.

“You and your- your entirely unfair witcher ways! Are you telling me you could tell all this time? Every time?” Geralt didn’t stop his grin this time and the indignation just grew, hand gestures growing wider. “That is- Geralt, how am I suppose to walk through life knowing you can smell my erection? How am I ever supposed to get up of a morning knowing my every waking naughty thought will be given away? Which yes is entirely too often but you’re entirely not fair, have you looked in a mirror in the past decade? Cruelty, unfair, entirely too sexy for your own good, for anyone’s own good-”

Jaskier went on like that, ranting like only he could, while Geralt eventually tuned his words out just to listen to the lilt of his voice. And the bard made a rather pretty picture himself, straddling him like that. His chemise was loose, showing off curls of dark hair that Geralt could run his fingers through for an eternity and never be bored of it. Broad tanned shoulders, a soft stomach barely hidden underneath his clothes, his pants a wonderful shade of green that fit in with the waking world around them.

A very pretty picture, but a noisy one at the moment. Geralt sighed but Jaskier went on, wildly flourishing his hands as if it was the end of the world that Geralt could smell his arousal. An arousal that had notably not died down, still pressing against the fabric of his pants, catching Geralt’s eyes and making him tilt his head in that way that Jaskier insisted was ‘adorable’ - though Geralt didn’t think he was capable of such a thing.

His thigh twitched with a rather mischievous thought, and as Geralt’s gaze traveled back up to Jaskier’s face, cheeks still stained pink from his rather unnecessary embarrassment, he thought there perhaps that voice would do better singing for him than ranting about his dramatics.

He’d been called an asshole before, and Geralt had never disagreed with the label. But he was lucky enough that Jaskier for the most part never minded - and he greatly doubted Jaskier would mind his next movement.

As Jaskier waved one of his delicate looking wrists in the air, dandelion seeds drifting on the wind about them, Geralt shifted beneath him until he had room to lift up one of his thighs. Before Jaskier could catch his movement it pressed up into him, cutting his bard off with a gasp, his eyes fluttering as Geralt’s smile showed teeth.

“That’s-” Jaskier pressed right down onto his thigh, his hands coming down to support him, and he didn’t waste any time in making it more enjoyable for himself. Shifting down, one hand placed on Geralt’s chest to support him, Jaskier straddled his thigh and slowly ground down onto it. A pretty moan escaped his lips and his tongue darted out as if to catch it.

It was a lovely show, watching as Jaskier pressed down onto him, sought out his own pleasure by rubbing against his thick thigh. Geralt pillowed his head on his arms and just watched, not moving his leg, letting Jaskier set his own pace and feeling pride bubble up in his chest at how pretty he sung for him. On a particularly rough grind Jaskier whimpered and rutted against him faster, making Geralt’s own cock twitch - but he wasn’t really in the mood for pleasure, so he ignored it in favor of the show.

Though he made for a beautiful picture, back lit by the sun and clouds, a pretty blue above that couldn’t quite beat the beautiful blue of his eyes, Jaskier wasn’t purposely looking good for a show. He didn’t touch his own skin like he did when he rode Geralt, didn’t skim his hands down his chest and stomach to show it off. Didn’t bite his lip or run and tangle his fingers into his curls. The emotions that crossed his face were not stressed or controlled, his noises slipped out without thought, his body moving without any purpose beyond pleasuring himself - and it made it a moment Geralt wanted to sear into his memory forever. That Jaskier could let go like this for him. That he trusted that Geralt didn’t mind, trusted that Geralt did not judge him for his desires. How human Jaskier allowed himself to be, imperfect and all the more beautiful for it.

“Fuck,” Jaskier cursed on an exhale, his movements already shaking, his cock dripping enough precum that it soaked into the front of his pants. Geralt could almost feel it wetting his own. “Geralt I- fuck you’re gorgeous, so gorgeous, I want to-” his hips stuttered, breath catching on a moan, brown curls caught on the wind and dancing. “Can- can I get off on your stomach? Gods it’d be so soft, feel so good, I- fuck.”

That was something he’d never requested before. Geralt quirked an eyebrow, belying another twitch of his own cock, but he grunted out “If you must.” And he had to bite back a chuckle at how quickly Jaskier’s fingers went for the ties of his pants.

Jaskier’s cock was leaking profusely though that wasn’t anything he didn’t already know. It looked like it was aching from it, hard and red and angry when he fished it out of his pants and smalls, and Jaskier whined as he couldn’t help but stroke himself a few times. His hips bucked with it, a greedy and wanting noise slipping from between his wet lips - but then he was slipping down Geralt’s leg to straddle his hips, and his cock was pushed against the soft skin of his stomach.

It didn’t slide against him very easily. The precum leaking from the tip helped, but Jaskier didn’t seem to care, holding onto his cock and gently rubbing it against him, jaw wide and loose like it was the single most pleasurable act Jaskier had ever experienced. Geralt cocked his head and tore his gaze away from Jaskier to watch his cock rub circles on him, precum dribbling faster and catching in the hair that curled white all over his abdomen.

Honestly, Geralt didn’t quite understand it. Wasn’t entirely sure what had Jaskier’s breath coming so fast, his heart beating so quick at rubbing against his soft stomach. But he didn’t really care. Jaskier’s hips jerked and he fought to keep himself reigned in, to keep his movements steady and slow, and Geralt just watched him and let him. Let him take this pleasure, smelling the arousal coming off of him in waves, listening to the rhythm of his breaths and body and heart. And Geralt memorized every little detail, from the flutter of his long eyelashes to the way his fingers dug into Geralt’s side, nails just at the edge of biting him.

Jaskier whimpered, long and shaking, when he came. It was desperate, his face scrunching up, eyes shut tight as if he was grasping onto the pleasure with all of his might. Geralt reached out to take hold of one of his hands, letting Jaskier clench his fingers as hard as he needed, bringing them up to brush his lips against the knuckles as Jaskier spilled all over his stomach.

His bard almost collapsed onto him, but Geralt moved him before that could happen, bringing him down with a shush at his further whimpers and letting him rest once more in the crook of his arm. And Jaskier came down slow, heartbeat eventually matching the rhythm of his deepening breaths, eyes still scrunched up tight as if he didn’t want to let go of what he’d been feeling.

When Geralt ran his fingers through his curls, they were damp with sweat. He hummed, not minding, just holding him close as he melted against him.

Eventually, Jaskier stretched, letting his arm flop against Geralt’s chest and legs tangle with his once more. He almost made an effort to open his eyes. Almost. Instead he frowned lightly, nuzzling into Geralt and as he moved impossibly closer.

“Want me to return the favor, love?” His words were light things that could have been carried off by the wind if Geralt’s hearing had been even slightly worse.

In truth, Geralt was turned on. How could he not be when Jaskier had ridden his thigh and stomach so beautifully? But he thought it over for a minute, the cool breeze tickling his face with a few stray white hairs, the scent of wildflowers coming back to him as the one of arousal dissipated.

“No,” he said finally, pulling Jaskier closer to kiss the top of his head. Despite the interest his body had shown he found he wasn’t in the mood himself, content enough to let Jaskier have his pleasure and leave it at that.

Jaskier just hummed, not questioning him further, and a small smile tugged at Geralt’s lips knowing there would be no hurt feelings over it. His bard’s fingers eventually went back to lazily tracing patterns into his skin, though he made a bit of a yucky face when they found the sticky mess he’d left of Geralt’s stomach hairs. Still they were both far too content to clean up just yet, not even wasting the energy to tuck Jaskier’s softening cock back away in his pants as they laid there, relaxed, enjoying the non-harsh sun and the clouds that lazed across the sky overhead.

“Coin for your thoughts?” Jaskier whispered into his chest after a time, and Geralt grunted, not even opening his eyes to look down as he responded.

“A bigger food budget.”

A moment later, and Jaskier’s laugh filled the field around them, sharp and uncontained, a laugh that was so far away from the performance he played that it drew a chuckle out of Geralt as well. That they could be themselves around each other, that they could be so carefree and human, was the most joyous thing Geralt had ever found in his long, long life - and that they’d discovered a new way to have fun was exciting, and Geralt was certainly going to take advantage of this new discovery. How could he not, when his reward was a well-pleased bard melting in his arms.

[monpalace]

Pardon the intrusion, dearies! I hope everyone is doing well. Ahem, may I request headcannons for a flirty GN! MC and the first years?

I'm imagining Deuce's reaction as I write this down. Thank you!

eni smiles as they grab an empty orb. they think for a moment before responding. "happy to help! no worries, no worries!" the spirit chirps, settling themself to float above you.

ACE TRAPPOLA

he'd be caught off guard the first two times, then go back full force

ace's blush would most definitely be worth it. he can't decide whether to hide his face behind his hand to avoid allowing you to see his face flush red or cross his arms across his chest to look like it didn't affect him

in the end he'd just do a mix of the two. after that, it's battle of the pick-up so i'll be praying that you're able to take it

when he was younger, he heard his brother flirting with people and on top of that he looked up lines for any future s/o's so he'd be set. to an extent

i can't promise that they won't be dumb or the delivery won't be shaky, but he'll always hit you with a wink, finger gun, and that finger heart thing he does in his cards

pray you don't get flustered during one of his responses because he will not stop teasing you

a pair of arms wrap around your torso, pulling you back into someone's chest. "hello~," the man hums in your ear.

you heave a sigh as you turn your head to face him, hand raising to place itself on his cheek. "hello, darling."

ace steels himself from jumping at the petname. instead, he flinches and plays it off as a gentle sway. the redhead pushes his head into your neck with a groan.

"we've been over this, ace. you can't surpass me." you ruffle his hair with a laugh before continuing as you were.

DEUCE SPADE

please let him breath between lines. i mean, since getting a s/o, he's been in disbelief— but these flirts just top that. if you’re not dating, that just makes it worse because do they even like me?? is this a sign??

error 404 screen anytime you try and pull one over on him. pray he doesn't stop functioning completely

ace would try and push deuce to you in order to get him to flirt back

everytime he tries to, he ends up stuttering so you might just have to give him a couple minutes? hours? seconds. on the off chance that he does get the line out without much fall, he'd immediately become embarrassed and bombard you with apologies

he can only take so much before his internal screeching becomes external. he can only take subtle flirts and h*ndh*lding in public

everything else is fair game in private. can't guarantee his reaction to your actions though

deuce's breathing falters once again upon hearing your airy laugh. "h— huh?" he stammers, wringing his hands together.

"i said are you doing any better now." you repeat, placing a hand on his shoulder. "you stopped breathing for a moment. thought i lost you!"

the teen's face flushes as though he were riddle. "i'm.. i'm sorry prefect!" he exclaims, bowing his head in shame.

you shake your head and shake your hands in front of your chest. "deuce! you're fine, i didn't realize you would act like that!"

JACK HOWL

jack "i gonna act like i hate everything you do when i'm actually trying to keep my tail from wagging like a pup" howl? mkay

he'd do that head turn, arms cross pose whenever you do hit him with a flirt. jack backs himself into a wall in order to either hide or pin his tail to it, trying to hide it's wagging as mentioned

"y/n, quit it." everytime you do hit him with another flirt

jack wouldn't attempt to flirt back with you because he's never been in a situation like this and doesn't know how to correctly respond

never do it in public because he might just sprint speedwalk away from you if you did. that is if you're not together

if you're going overboard with it, he'd either push your shoulder lightly or bring you into his chest in an effort to shut you up

jack's arms fold over each other as he turns his head. he could feel his tail begin swaying back and forth, starting to pick up speed the longer it went on.

placing a hand on his bicep, you look down at the white appendage with a smile. "a wagging tail?" you ask rhetorically. "that means your happy to see me, no?"

the beastman sighs heavily through his nose. he moves one of his arms towards your face, making your eyebrows raise in surprise.

"prefect," jack grumbles with a growing smile. his hand tilts so that it could cover the entirety of your mouth. "shut it."

EPEL FELMIER

like ace, he'd be caught off guard in the first couple of times before trying to come back with his own flirts to be manly

epel's pick-up lines would be spontaneous. he'd pop up out of nowhere and link your arms together/wrap an arm around your waist/try to pick you up

if vil was ever around he'd shut shit down so quick and rook would try and set you two up on romantic dates. if you're only doing this for fun never let the fact that you're flirting with epel get to rook. the dates would be inevitable

seeing as there was no one around his age in the village of harvest, this has never happened to him [unless you count grannies complementing him] so he'd definitely take this as a learning opportunity for future reference

he responds to you with a slightly flushed face and hearty chuckle

please don't bully him for his late response [he's trying to think of something to tell you], he might just fight you. relationship status be damned

epel grabs your hand and hold them between your own as he sinks to one of his knees in front of you. "prefect, aside from taking my breath away, what do you do for a living?"

"that was cute," you snort. "rook?"

the male huffs as he stands back up. "he wouldn't let me leave without saying it."

an obnoxious clapping starts from one of the nearby trees. "my apologies for disrupting this moment, but that was magnifique, monsieur cherry apple!"

SEBEK ZIGVOLT

i don't think he's interacted with a woman outside of his mother and sisters

he'd yell. everytime. every damn time. i don't know what you expected from him. it's sebek

"HUMAN! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?", "HUMAN, WE'RE IN FRONT OF OTHERS, PLEASE!", "HUMAN! HOW COULD YOU BE SO OBSCENE!"

he'd ask lilia for help. lilia was no help. the only thing he got was teasing and pick-up lines from 1686.

once again, i can't guarantee they'll be good, but he's trying his best so please just reassure him that it wasn't dumb

wishes he went to silver instead because lilia is constantly dragging him off to hear how his advice went. would never go to malleus because he wouldn't want to bother the great young master with his trivial matters even though malleus wouldn't know how to help regardless

sebek's hand flies up to his face as he backs up to a wall with a face only the crimson blood of battle could compare. it takes his entire being to keep from curling in on himself. he was a knight for seven's sake, act like it!"

my apologies, darling." the knight says in an uncharacteristically low voice.

you wrap your arms around his waist, cheek resting on his shoulder. "i think it was nice. very like you."

sebek's hands lower as he looks at you with a slight glare. "is that a insult?" to which you respond with a shake of your head. "compliment."

[random-imagines-blog]

Post Red {Viktor Krum x Reader Oneshot}

Requested by: Anonymous Wordcount: 3072 Summary: At a time when he should be focused on the game, Viktor Krum is distracted by you, his childhood best friend, and a blonde-haired boy who won’t stop flirting.

The Quidditch World Cup. You came just about every year, getting pretty okay seats with your best friend Viktor and his family. His parents and yours were good friends, which instantly meant that you were best friends. And with his father holding season passes to every Quidditch world cup, no matter where it was, this had become a yearly tradition. “I’m going to be on the Bulgarian team one day,” Viktor would always state as you watched the players fly. Bulgaria was always his favorite. Home country pride. It was yours too, but sometimes you liked to cheer for other times to mix things up. You would always grin and nudge him to point out something a player was doing, but not this year. This year, you were at the top of the stadium, standing next to the Minister of Magic in a special area, watching Viktor Krum play in Bulgaria versus Ireland. He was achieving his dream.

Every time that he flew past you, you jumped up and down, waving the flag of his team. He had become the star seeker of the team so quickly, it made your head spin. But you were nothing if not supportive. You used up your allowance to buy his merchandise, even though he could get it to you for free. It almost became a joke between the two of you, how you would always show up to his house wearing a sweater with his face on it, bright and smiling. You always made the joke that he was smiling on the sweater because it was the closest that he would ever get to your chest. He would make the joke in return that he was just smiling because he finally was looking at someone good looking - himself. He was actually very funny for a serious looking man.

You weren’t the only one high up in the stadium. Sharing a box with you was the Minister of Magic himself, and a man with his son. The boy was two or three years younger than you, you would assume by his size, and his hair was as silver as snow, just like his fathers. You had no interest in them. You weren’t here to make friends. You were here to support the best one that you had. But you did give a friendly hello and smile to the Minister, as it was better to have a friend in him than an enemy.

The other boy though, he wanted to have more than a friendly hello with you. He kept moving closer to the part of the box that you were occupying. He spoke to you with a very snobby voice, and though it would be considered rude and your parents would be disappointed in you, your direct reaction was to pretend that you didn’t know English.

“I’m Draco Malfoy,” He said, sticking his hand out to shake yours. “We’re here with the Minister of Magic. Are you here by yourself?”

Rather than shake his hand, because you honestly didn’t want to touch him for too long, you tapped yours against his in a high-five. “Ja, go fast!” You said, pointing at one of the Bulgarian Chasers who just flew past you.

The look on Draco’s face was worth it. But there was still a long game ahead of you. It could go on for hours. For days. Hopefully for the former though, because Viktor was a really good seeker. You had full confidence that he would get the snitch before it turned midnight.

Draco went and stood by his father for a little bit, and the two had quiet conversations. You didn’t pay him much attention. You were too busy watching the game. Even during lulls when it was just Chasers fighting over the ball in the middle of the pitch, you were intrigued. You didn’t pay attention to anything else - except for maybe making faces at Viktor when he passed by you on his way to catch what he thought was the snitch. He was darting back and forth so quickly though, it was hard to tell if he had seen you.

Since the World Cup was officially sponsored by Butterbeer, it kept being brought up to your box by people who worked for the Quidditch federation. It was enough to keep you warm as the game went into the nighttime. The skies seemed to threaten rain, but you didn’t care whether it fell or not. You were having fun, regardless of the weather.

The Irish scored the first goal. You booed, even though the others in your box seemed to be very supportive of the green team. You smiled apologetically at Fudge as he gave you an odd look, but didn’t pass a glance at the other two. However, the young boy came and stood beside you again, leaning over the box to look down at the people below in the lesser seats. He was sneering at them, like they had done something wrong by just existing there. That was worth a look to you at least. He caught your eye, and that sneer turned into a smile.

“Is this your first time at the Quidditch World Cup?” He asked. You shook your head, still feigning not knowing any English. “We come every year. But this is the first time that we’re in the Minister’s Box. So how did you get up here anyway? Who are you?”

He wasn’t letting up. You tried to look up at the players again, but the war for the Quaffle was going on in the middle of the pitch which meant there wasn’t much to look at right now. He nudged your side, so you finally answered, giving him your first and last name.

“Sounds exotic,” He said, which made you have to turn away and roll your eyes. Leave it to someone from England to think that your name was exotic, when it was commonplace where you were from. And not like he had the right to judge - what sort of name was Draco?

There was finally some action on the pitch, which took his attention from you for a little while. Unfortunately it was Ireland again, scoring the second goal of the game. Your eyes scanned the pitch to look for the familiar frame of your best friend and you saw him across the stadium. He was balanced on his broom, sitting on it in a way that made it look easy. Comfortable. You always admired how effortless he made it look to fly, while you were always hunched down, holding on with both hands until your knuckles had started to hurt. You waved at him when you thought you caught his eye and he smiled back at you. You chuckled as you heard a few girls in rows below you start to squeal because they thought that it had been at him.

“He’s overrated,” Draco muttered beside you.

“Krum?” You asked - before realizing this was very close to exposing yourself as a fraud.

“Yeah. He’s not even that good. In fact, I’m better than him. I’m the Seeker on the Slytherin Quidditch team. I got in second year, which is really rare, actually.”

You let his voice go in one ear and then out the other. This boy seemed to like to talk about himself an awful lot.

Ireland scored a third goal, and you groaned loudly, cutting off Draco in the middle of a sentence. “Oh, are you cold?” He asked.

Either he didn’t notice that you were shaking your head, or he didn’t care. He moved in closer to you and tried to put his arm around your shoulders. In your discomfort, you took a few hasty steps away, and ended up bumping into the Minister himself, stepping on his robes which almost pulled him down.

“I’m so sorry,” You said in horror as you realized what you had just done. You helped him to upright himself, and he gave you a wary look, like he should have expected this.

“It’s quite alright,” He said, but he did wander to the other side of the box, far away from you. You watched, feeling a bit bashful about what just had happened. At least, until there was a cheer from the fans. Ireland scored yet another goal. You sighed, and put your gaze back on the game. Viktor had moved since you had last seen him, and you began to scan for him once more, only for him to pop up not too far from you.

“I knew you spoke English,” Draco said from next to you. You almost forgot about the little twerp, but here he was, making himself known again. You never met anyone so infuriating before. He just couldn’t pick up a hint. “Come on, talk to me. Do you go to Hogwarts? I felt like I would have seen you there.”

“I don’t go to Hogwarts,” You stated. “You have not seen me before. And after this, we shall not meet again. Please, leave me alone.”

“I’ll be telling my father about your rudeness,” He said, finally turning away from you. You let out a sigh of relief. Maybe you could finally get into the game.

There had been a few close calls of Ireland getting the snitch. They were winning by quite a lot, and you could feel Viktor’s frustration from where you were standing. He kept looking at you, and you didn’t have much to offer him except for crossing your fingers.

“I think you should come to have dinner with us after the game,” Draco said, strolling back over to you after a while.

“The game could go on for hours, or even days,” You said, clenching the fence in front of you. You had never felt the urge to punch someone before but it was growing slowly and steadily. Something about his ferret like face.

“Well, we’re taking a break soon. We brought our new house elf. It’s an alright cook, it’ll do for the occasion. And you’re going to join us, aren’t you?”

“I’m fine here, thank you,” You said, scoffing at the idea of a break. You had no intention of leaving the game until it was over, even if that meant starving or peeing yourself. You were dedicated to stick it out for Viktor, at the very least.

He was flying not too far, eyes peeled for the stitch. But he looked at you. He was able to smile once more, but a hand grabbed yours and pulled you away from the fence. In your astonishment, you had let go. “Come on, we’re going to have something to eat.”

There was a sound of awe from the crowd at the exact same time that something went soaring by your head. You just barely managed to duck before it turned around and came back. A bludger. But how in the hell did it-

It went returning the way that it had come from, flying across the pitch. That was when you saw Viktor again, a little closer to you this time, holding a beater’s bat. He tossed it back to the beater, who went soaring after the bludger, while Viktor looked over at you. You put your hands over your heart as a thank you. He had always been a little overprotective of you, but right now, you were grateful for it. You were able to snap your hand away from Draco’s grasp, who was still ducking from the bludger attack. “I said I’m fine here. And if you, or your father, have a problem with that, you can shove it up your rear!” You shouted. The Minister overheard this part of the conversation and let out a little ‘oh my’ in surprise.

You didn’t even care. Enough was enough. If he grabbed you again, you would be telling everyone that you were being assaulted, and put him on full blast. Though he looked rather shaky after the encounter with the bludger, so you had the feeling he wouldn’t actually be bothering you again. You returned back to the fence so you could overlook the pitch again, and wrapped your hands around it so no one would be able to drag you back again.

-

The game finished with Bulgaria’s loss. You were disappointed, but it wasn’t Viktor’s fault. He still managed to catch the snitch, so he had done his job. It was the Keeper that you were disappointed with, and you would be bringing that up to him later.

You descended the endless flights of stairs, blending in with the crowd after the game - many were celebrating but there were quite a few who looked the same as you felt. Damn Ireland, you were thinking to yourself. And damn the Bulgarian Keeper! He hadn’t been able to do his job properly. Even Viktor would have done a better job, and it was his least favorite position!

You managed to veer away from the crowd to go to your own little campsite. Much like the others around yours, the tent was much bigger and roomier on the inside than it appeared on the outside, thanks to a little magic. You marched on through the flaps to go inside, and change out of your clothes. It had been a long game, and you had definitely sweated at least a little bit. You wanted to be much more presentable when Viktor would come along and join you.

The flap came open once more, and Viktor strolled in, just as you were fastening the button on your bottoms. He had perfect timing - now at least, maybe not so during the game. His jaw was clenched, you noticed, and he looked very angry. He’d lost games before, but still reveled in the fact that he had been playing. This was not a mood that just came from the game.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, watching as he walked past you to the armchair that was in front of the budding fire. Thank heavens for magic - a fire and a tent would never have worked otherwise.

“That boy who was touching you-” He said, sinking into the chair, and spit directly into the fire with disgust. “What’s his name?”

“Oh, we don’t need to worry about him, Vik. I think you scared him enough with the bludger. He wouldn’t even come close to me after that. Turned white as a sheet,” You chuckled at the memory, but his anger seemed to rage on.

“No, tell me his name.” Viktor demanded. You sighed, and walked to where he was sitting. The chair wasn’t big enough for the both of you, but it had rather wide arms and you planted yourself right there. You leaned your head against the top of his, the bristly growth of his hair tickling your forehead. “Y/N...”

“He was a stupid, petulant child who I am never going to lay eyes on again, Viktor Krum. Why did it make you so mad?”

“No one should be touching you. No one should be dragging you...” He said, moodily. He was staring into the fire, not at you at all.

“Tell you what. I’ll let you know his name after you calm down, how about that?” You suggested. It would take some time - he had a temper like a bonfire that would just keep on burning until the morning.

“Fine,” He grumbled. He said nothing more, and the two of you sat in silence, staring at the fire as it crackled, and listening to some of the cheers from outside. People were still celebrating the Irish win out there, and it gave everything a joyous atmosphere. “I’m not angry anymore.” He said after a few more minutes.

You pulled away from him, and took a look at his eyes to see if he really was in a post-red mood. He still looked grumpy but the worst of it seemed to be over. “His name was Draco Malfoy. His father is friends with the Minister, which is why I didn’t do much about it myself. You took good care of me, Vik. Just be happy that it ended the way that it did and we could move on with our lives.”

“If I see him again, I’m punching him,” Viktor grumbled. You shrugged, alright with that since the likelihood of it seemed so low.

“That is a price that he will have to pay then,” You smiled, moving back towards him and fell into his lap. Before you could try to get up, his arms went around your waist and started to tickle you in the way that he knew you hated. Fingers digging into your skin, it was a horrible feeling but the closeness that it brought wasn’t entirely terrible. “Vik - come on, stop...”

“I like it when you call me that,” He said, finally letting a smile come across his usual gruff features. You smiled in return, and lightly ran your fingers across his sculpted jawline, feeling the bone beneath his skin. His breathing hitched, and he held you closer, tighter.

You grew closer, until you could feel the heat of his breath on your lips. Viktor was so close - and you hadn’t realized until this moment that this was something that you wanted. You had always been friends, and your parents had teased since the beginning that they were planning your wedding to each other. But this was the first time that you had seen what they had been seeing.

Screams came from outside, and they were far from being the joyous kind. There was serious fear in the female voice that you had heard. And then came others. More and more screaming. The tent seemed to move as people were rushing past it. You could just see it through the crack between the flaps which acted as doors.

“Stay with me,” Viktor said, getting up immediately. You agreed to this without question, and when he offered you his hand, you took it. Whatever danger was out there, you were certain that you could face it together.

[restapesta]

Fucking Milkovich

words: 5.5k

Five times Ian pulled Mickey away from starting a fight and the one time the roles were reversed.

1. THE STORE

The old lady had been side-eyeing them since they accidentally bumped into her at the wine aisle, Mickey backing into her as he and Ian led a loud, heated discussion about whether or not the Rose that was in Ian's hand was the same one from the gay party they had attended a couple of days before.

Ian was dead set on saying that it was the same bottle of pink wine and that even if it wasn't, it probably tasted the same, all the while Mickey was dead set on proving to Ian that the bottle was most certainly not the same one and that they should crack it open and try it even if they were still in the middle of the supermarket. They were bickering back and forth, not paying much attention to their surroundings, and Mick had backed away from the rack of wines, unceremoniously colliding with the gray-haired lady who was pushing a cart filled to the brim with groceries. It was a miracle the items hadn't toppled out, considering there was a mountain of them. Ian wondered how steadily the lady must've been pushing the cart, and how close his husband had come from knocking it all down.

Mickey had muttered a quick sorry and Ian had shot the lady an apologetic look when she just stared at Mickey and the tattoos that covered his hands and arm, blatantly revealed by his short-sleeved t-shirt. Ian had told him he looked hot in it that morning, so Mickey had kept the jacket off, appeasing his husband's gaze. He felt a bit cold but Ian's eyes following unapologetically as his arms flexed made it all worth it.

Ian gestured for Mickey to leave the aisle with his eyes, accompanied by a sharp tilt of his head -- and they continued their way to the other racks of food and drinks, Ian placing the bottle of wine in their own basket. They weren't there for a full-on grocery run. They were in Costco purely because their snacks and beer needed stocking up, and they needed some shit for the mac-and-cheese Mickey had been craving. Ian had lost a bet while they were at work today so he promised to make him some -- a deed Mickey was quite happy about.

They bumped into the lady once more at the cash register. There were some people six feet in front of them (considering they kept their distance), unloading their stuff, and the woman was mere inches behind them, as if she was waiting in line with the couple, not behind them, pressed close. Mickey shot her a glance and when he noticed her scowl, he gave her a slight smile that Ian knew was obviously not a smile, but rather a 'hello lady I crashed into, why are you standing so close, back away from me and my tall ginger before I tell you to back the fuck away'  threat. He had a feeling the lady caught on to what Ian did, but chose not to comply, considering how her scowl deepened and how she seemed to press impossibly closer.

Mickey and Ian shared a look but kept their mouths shut, preparing to unload their shit onto the moving thingy -- but then the old bat spoke.

"Least you could do is let me cut the line." She was looking straight at Mickey, and to Ian,  judging by the look on his husband's face, it seemed as if he was considering it. But when his gaze swept over the pile in her cart -- the one almost spilling over -- he simply shrugged, "No. I couldn't."

Mickey kept unloading the few items they did have, and Ian followed his lead, but the lady was persistent. "You are very unkind."

Mickey simply muttered an 'uh-uh' as he grabbed the money out of his jacket.

"You should be ashamed."

Mickey rubbed his eyebrow with his thumb and Ian knew that signaled danger, so he pushed him lightly with his shoulder, gesturing for him to pay. Mickey obliged begrudgingly, choosing to ignore the bitch. The cashier was just finishing placing their shit into the plastic bag, handing it to Ian, also handing Mickey back the change. They were going to leave the place unscathed.

Too bad the bitch couldn't keep her mouth shut.

"You should put a leash on him."

Before Mickey had a chance to jump her and gauge her eyes out, Ian wrapped his hands around his torso and pushed him towards the door of the store, whispering 'calm the fuck down' to him curtly, the grocery bag in his hand making it harder to sustain his husband. It wasn't the first time he had done this, and he doubted it would be the last. It was somewhat of a struggle but Ian managed. He also tried to ignore the look of pure horror on the grandma's face.

When he was finally able to get Mickey through the door -- while the guy spewed graphic insults at the hag -- he let go, making sure to keep him a safe distance away from the store.

"What the fuck is it with old bitches being so fucking rude?" Mickey muttered loudly, grabbing the bag out of Ian's hand and pulling out the Rose. He opened the bottle easily and took a long gulp, emptying a third of the bottle with it. His face scrunched up immediately. "I fucking told you it wasn't the same one!"

Ian just shook his head.

Fucking Milkovich.

2. THE JOB

The day had been pretty slow. They had their regular cash pick-ups and deliveries, and they had finished most of them, considering how the day was nearing its end. Both Ian and Mickey were ready to get back home and crash on the couch, maybe down a beer or two, and especially take off the uniforms that had truly made them sweat today. Spring was coming, and fuck if Ian wasn't ready for the onslaught of discomfort the camo brought on with it. Mickey didn't look like he minded it much, but Mickey was Mickey, so it wasn't a surprise. Ian, on the other hand, was already considering alternatives.

They were delivering their last bags of weed, taking a long ass drive to fucking HerbalCare, knowing it would take them a while to get back home too -- but the Northsiders that owned the place were kind of their regulars, so they were used to it.

Both Ian and Mickey expected the usual chick to show up and pick up the marijuana when they eventually got to the place -- the one with the curly red hair and a sassy attitude -- but instead, an unknown guy did with a large-ass man following shortly behind.

The first guy looked like any other -- casual clothing, friendly face, easy demeanor -- unlike -- what Ian supposed was -- his bodyguard. He looked like a capo with his broad shoulders, tight black shirt, tattoos littering his body, head cleanly shaved. Ian glanced reluctantly at his own thug, mentally praying Mickey had a bullet that could take down the motherfuckers in front of them if necessary.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" The normal-looking one spoke.

Mickey nodded, also slightly taken aback, but not letting it show. "We have a delivery for HerbalCare." He glanced at Ian. "For Dina? Wasn't it?"

Ian nodded slowly, assessing the situation.

"I'll take it from here." The guy responded, eyeing Mickey up and down. "Dina is currently busy at the moment." Mickey didn't seem too happy with the asshat's statement. Ian wasn't either, naturally. The man had an odd vibe to him -- he seemed on edge despite his cool facade, and Ian saw straight through it. He glanced at Mickey who seemed to have been noticing the same thing. They were not handing shit over to these assholes. There's a certain trust you had to earn before claiming a couple of thousand dollars worth of weed from Gallavich Security.

"How 'bout I just speak to Dina, yeah?" Mickey's voice was calm and eery -- he was in boss mode. The mode that even scared Ian, sometimes. It was dangerous territory these guys were treading on if Mickey had resorted to going into the mode only slightly less scary than Milkovich thug mode.

The dude, still nameless, smiled without humor. "Why don't you just give me the weed, huh?"

Mickey pulled out his gun swiftly, pointing it straight at the guy's head. The shock on his face only lasted for a moment before it turned into a smirk. The capo next to him pulled out his own, only slightly smaller than Mickey's, pointing it at Mickey's head.

Well, shit.

Ian pulled out the gun from his waistband, feeling slightly worried for his and his husband's safety, pointing it at the tall-ass man. It was like a scene from a movie. A poor, shitty-quality one.

"How about we all just put down our guns and we'll come back when Dina gets here?" Ian's voice was smooth and the silence hung lowly over them for a couple of moments. Ian was never a gun sort of guy, but rather a talk-it-out one.

They eventually all put down their guns, albeit reluctantly.

"Okay, then. Guess we'll be seeing you." The guy muttered as he turned his back to Ian and Mickey, capo following behind, shooting them a glare. Their movements were slow and deliberate, but eventually, when they were a safe distance away, the capo turned around and shot them the middle finger.

Ian was just barely in time to stop Mickey before he leaped out to kill the motherfucker.

He wrapped his arms around him like a boa constrictor, attempting to stop him from committing homicide. As always, it took a while.

Mickey growled after a minute or two, finally calming down, glaring at the spot the asshole thieves were a few moments before. "Oh, you fucking will be seeing me. You'll be seeing me in your nightmares, you motherfuckers."

Ian barely contained himself from rolling his eyes.

Fucking Milkovich.

3. THE ALIBI

Ian had been nursing a beer for the past hour while his worse half had already downed three. Mickey was on his fourth glass of Budweiser, slightly tipsy, but not quite drunk just yet as he and Ian enjoyed their night out, something one might even call a date (correction: something only Ian would call a date).

They had gone out for chicken wings, played some pool after dinner -- even took a fucking stroll out -- and now, they were chilling at the Alibi Room, enjoying each other's companies, talking about anything and everything, laughing at Kevin's jokes and making fun of Kermit and Tommy, the regular drunks of the Southside.

It was a slow day today, their job weighing a little extra heavy on their shoulders, but the night was swift, in contrast. In fact, they were having a really good time, letting go of all of the fucked-up things happening in their lives right now, the burden coming off of their shoulders, even for a little while. And Ian was especially looking forward to the sex that was bound to follow when they got back home. Hell, if Mickey continues drinking the beers at this pace, maybe even in the bathroom -- it truly only depended on the level of horniness the drunken state would illicit.

They were still enjoying their alcohol and horniness when Kermit had decided to remind everyone of a comment. Ian guessed it wasn't supposed to be that big of a deal. Both Ian and Mickey had dealt with far worse from people far shittier than Tommy and Kermit. But the comment  --  the one about how Tommy was against their wedding, saying it was a man-woman thing -- didn't really sit well with either of them. Ian had no idea how the topic even came up, and the whole 'kind of drunk and talk-y' Mickey wasn't helping the case, but the words most certainly had an undesired effect on the couple.

Mickey had stilled immediately.

It wasn't that big of a deal. Homophobes were all around them, and they knew that Tommy was as gay and as homophobic as any of them, and Mickey would probably ignore the comment had he not been this content with the night he was having.

Here he was with Ian, having a great time, enjoying his life, his marriage, and over-all his husband, and this asshole was going to ruin it with this comment. This stupid, meaningless comment.

Neither Ian nor Mickey lived in a fantasy -- the one where everyone was supportive of the gays and where love was simply love, no matter if it was between a male and a female, or a male and a male -- but sometimes, they forgot what world they actually lived in and in those moments they were at their most vulnerable to these sort of remarks. They cut them deep, Mickey especially.

He was so happy with Ian, so happy with his marriage, the life they shared, that the outside world rarely even mattered. But when he heard someone saying how they shouldn't have gotten married -- shouldn't have been enjoying their love and relationship, shouldn't be where they are now -- Mickey got pissed.

"Oh yeah, Tommy? Man-woman thing?" Mickey's voice was unnervingly steady.

Kevin eyed Kermit, silently conveying the question, "why the fuck would you say that". Kermit shrugged but Mickey only had eyes for dear old Tom. He was watching him like prey.

Tommy gulped, not as afraid of Mickey as he used to be, but definitely not one-hundred percent safe around him either. Everybody knew Mickey protected himself and his family -- Ian and the Gallaghers -- only. Everyone else could just go fuck themselves. Tommy fell into the latter group.

"That's just the way I've been taught. Y'all are good, enjoy your marriage." He attempted to climb out of the hole he had dug for himself but it wasn't really working. The asshole had made it too deep and had fallen into it headfirst.

"Oh, I'm so fucking happy I have your approval." Mickey bit back.

"Oh, no," Ian muttered lowly. "Mick."

"You should be happy I don't have a gun on me now. Now, while I'm on a date with my husband." He annunciated the words slowly, making sure Tommy understood and heard them very well and remembered them for good. Ian's heart fluttered at the mention of the word date, but he reeled it back in for now. He could enjoy it later when Mickey wasn't on the verge of murdering someone.

"Hey man, how 'bout you just calm down?"

Tommy really wanted to die today.

Ian was pushing Mickey out of the bar before he strangled the man with his bare hands. Mickey cursed as they were leaving, resisting his husband as he attempted to drag him out. Ian barely got them through the door, and when he did, Mickey tried hard to go back in.

Ian hissed at him to stop. Eventually, Mickey did.

"I see him one more time, I'm killing him, understood?" Mickey was baring his teeth at the bar as if Tommy could see him. "Him and his counterpart."

Ian closed his eyes briefly.

Fucking Milkovich.

4. THE BLEACHERS

It had always been their spot. From the beginning, it was a place for Ian and Mickey to run away to, not just to hook up, but to escape their lives and the turmoils of their families, each fucked up in its own fucked up way. It was easy for them to just disappear for a while, fucking against the fence, shot-gunning beer with no one to reprimand them for when they left the cans on the stadium, the world completely oblivious that it was the odd duo. Not just Mickey Milkovich, the infamous Southside thug, and not just Ian Gallagher, the skinny army ginger -- but both Ian and Mickey, a pairing no one saw coming, not from a million light-years away.

It was easier back then, sure, but now, it was better. They used to just fuck underneath the bleachers, making it nothing more than a hook-up spot, barely touching after sex, drinking beer like just a couple of friends, not like they were in between rounds, Ian aching for more, Mickey denying him access to it. Ian knew Mickey wouldn't even admit they were friends back then.

But then again, it was different then than it was now.

Now the bleachers were their spot. Not just a fuck spot like it used to be. No -- it was a hangout spot. They didn't have their own place yet -- that was still a work in progress -- and when the Gallagher house became too loud and too messy for them to just enjoy their night, outside of the confines of their room, they went to the bleachers.

It wasn't a regular occurrence, more like a once-a-month sort of thing, but it still felt great and rejuvenating -- it felt like them. A space in the dark where they could just talk and drink and mess around and make out in, unapologetically relieved of the burden on their shoulders, whatever it may be.

Tonight was a night like that, a night where all they wanted and needed to do was escape -- Terry's death was still weighing heavy on Mickey's soul, for reasons Mickey and Ian both had yet to uncover, and the house was brimming with too many Gallaghers with too many opinions and observations. They needed a break.

The spot under the bleachers was supposed to be reserved for them as always, and they had brought along a six-pack of beer as well, deciding to just get drunk, even if they still had to get to work the next morning. It would be a good ending to a shitty week.

But the asshole kids sitting at their spot weren't gonna let that play out.

Ian and Mickey were aware that they were grown-ass men, but it was ten pm and these children had no right to even be near the bleachers let alone smoking and drinking underneath them. They were far from teens and they reminded Ian of himself and Lip when they were mere eleven-year-olds trying to figure the messed-up world out.

Mickey didn't really see it that way. He was clearly just annoyed.

"Beat it." He said in a curt voice, flicking his wrist to point to the imaginary exit. Ian followed suit reluctantly, only after trying to convince Mickey to just let them have at it and go to the dugouts instead.

"No Ian, we came here because this is our spot and these little fuckers need to go." Mickey had responded.

Ian was aware his husband had issues.

He was used to it.

The kids laughed, the three voices laughing merging, sounding more like a pack of hyenas. "Watcha' gonna do about it, grandpa?"

Mickey had a very shitty couple of days.

Mickey was not a well-tempered person.

Mickey was on the verge of killing something.

These kids were the catalyst.

When Mickey took a swift step towards them, Ian was once again -- how many times was it, now? -- holding him back. The kids scattered around, scared shitless of the thug. They were gone in the blink of an eye.

Ian felt sorry for them, but he was happy that, at least, Mickey didn't dump their tiny bodies in the river. Not that Mickey would've actually done that.

Ian hoped.

"I was one second from threatening to eat them for lunch," Mickey grumbled. He then pointed at the free spot. "At least they're gone. Gimme that beer, I wanna have some good drunk sex."

He made a gesture with his fingers and smiled as if nothing had happened. Wasn't Ian supposed to be the crazy one?

Fucking Milkovich.

5.  THE GALLAGHER HOUSE

Debbie Gallagher was extremely annoying nine times out of ten. Ian Gallagher knew it. Mickey Milkovich knew. The entire Gallagher clan knew it. But today, she seemed especially bitchy.

It was a Friday night -- usually reserved for a good home-cooked meal, chilling on the couch, watching TV,  and just having a family night altogether. Even Lip and Tami were in the house on Fridays, bringing Fred along to play with Franny and Liam (who would more-so look after them than play with them).

That's how the nights usually went.

But tonight, Debbie the Brat had every intention of fucking it up.

She sauntered into the house, bitchiness oozing from her pores, head held high even though it should have been bowed down in shame. She was drunk off her rocks, and she was dragging Franny along with her.

"Hi, assholes." She greeted the family in the kitchen, letting go of Franny's hand, pulling her sunglasses off to reveal blood-shot eyes. God knows where the hell she had been today. All Ian knew was that she left the house sober with Franny and was now completely drunk, if not high, the little girl still trailing behind.

"Wash your hands, Fran," Liam instructed, eyeing Debbie up and down. She seemed even more fucked up than usual in his eyes.

She plopped herself down on the closest free chair which happened to be across Mickey. It was quiet for a few moments, everyone waiting for something to happen. Debbie was an unpredictable drunk, something they were only lately discovering.

It seemed like Debbie had woken up today and chosen violence.

She looked straight into Mickey's eyes. "Your cousin is a cunt."

Mickey raised an eyebrow while the other Gallaghers observing the exchange. Ian was sat next to him. He put his utensils down, not sure how this exchange was going to unravel, also pulling Mickey's knife out of reach, in a way he hoped was inconspicuous.

Just in case.

"She is a self-absorbed cunt who has no business in this house anymore." Deborah continued as if someone gave a shit. Mickey especially.

He shrugged. "Last I'd seen her was the morning after you guys broke up. I couldn't give less of a shit about whether or not she's with you or not with you. For fuck's sake, the break-up happened a long-ass time ago, get over it." Mickey looked down at his plate, continuing to eat his dinner, clearly signifying the conversation was over. He glanced at Ian when he couldn't find his knife.

Instead of moving on, Debbie grabbed a loaf of bread and threw it at him.

Mickey stilled.

Carl elbowed her hard but she paid no attention to the warning. She was having a staring contest with Mickey Milkovich. One she would eventually lose.

"Back the fuck off, Debbie," Ian warned himself.

She switched her gaze from Mickey to Ian. Her gaze was murderous. "Or what, Ian? You'll try and kill me with a bat?"

Collective silence fell over the table. Noone seemed to be breathing. All eyes switched to Ian, gauging his reaction, not believing the words that had left Debbie's mouth, but even warier of the ones that were bound to leave Ian's.

Ian had other things occupying his mind, though, and one of those things was his husband who was probably a second away from killing his sister-in-law.

"You bitch." Ian held Mickey down by his shoulders as he attempted to climb over the table and tackle her to the floor. "You and your condescending cunt can fuck off."

"Mickey. Come on." Ian pushed him out of the chair and shoved him lightly, indicating for him to go upstairs.

"No, Ian. She needs to be set fucking straight, or else you'll have a new Frank on your hands. This bitch." He fought against him as Debbie just sat still.

"Mickey." Ian shoved him towards the stairs, afraid he would have to explain to the cops how his husband murdered his sister if Mickey didn't leave the room, immediately. Mickey noticed Ian's serious expression, and slowly climbed up, all the while muttering to Debbie to go fuck herself.

Ian glanced at Debbie from where he stood.

"What?" She asked, innocently.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Debbie snorted. "Sorry if I hurt your feelings. Not like it wasn't true."

"I couldn't give less of a shit whether or not you think I'm crazy. You come in here and talk to Mickey like that again, I will be using a bat. Only then you'll see how crazy I can get." Ian was dead serious.

It was the first time since she came in that her eyes truly widened in fear.

He backed away upstairs slowly.

The rest of the Gallaghers were silent for a moment before they all collectively shot Debbie a dirty look, soon erupting in chatter, as if nothing had happened.

It had been merely a few seconds before Ian had entered their room, when Mickey finally started his rant, talking shit about Debbie, defending Ian being at the core of it all.

He had a lot to say, and Ian was going to listen to it all, like the supportive husband he was, always taking Mick's side.

As he listened to Mickey rant about Debbie, he thought about what he had said to her. It was true -- every single word that had left his mouth. He hoped she and the rest of them -- no matter who it was -- understood.

Mickey was more important to him than anyone else in this world, even his sister. He was Ian's family, his next of kin, the one Ian trusted and loved the most. When push comes to shove, he will chose him, no matter what. He will always choose his husband, the love of his life, his worse half.

God, he was soft.

Fucking Milkovich.

+1 THE STORE, THE JOB, THE ALIBI, THE BLEACHERS, THE GALLAGHERS

"You really keep me from killing people, man. Feel like I should thank you."

Mickey had muttered that lowly in the dark, his head resting on Ian's chest, both of them naked, enjoying their post-sex bliss. It was then when they were at their most open, letting out emotions and feelings that usually didn't seep into the mundane day.

Ian ran his fingers along Mickey's bare back, enjoying how Mickey shivered against them. "You do the same thing." He answered simply.

Mickey raised his head slightly to look at his husband. "No, I don't. I've never had to physically pull you away from stabbing or strangling someone."

"You do realize I usually get as pissed off as you do at these things."

"These things?"

Ian rolled his eyes in the dark. "C'mon Mick. You really think I'm okay with an old lady calling you rude and ignorant and judging you like you're nothing but a street rat. Or some assholes flipping us off after trying to steal our weed?" He adjusted his arm so it rested over Mickey's shoulder, Mickey's cheek pressed into his peck. "You think I don't get mad when Tommy talks about how we shouldn't have gotten married because we're men? Or how Debbie had the audacity to talk to you like that, in front of me."

"You never react to it, though. That's why I don't pull you away from starting shit. You kind of just stay calm." Mickey responded to Ian's short monologue.

Ian chuckled. "Mick. If I wasn't so busy pulling you away, I'd probably be the one murdering them all."

This time Mickey raised his head to fully look at Ian. They adjusted their positions so it was easier to keep each other's gaze.

"I'm serious," Ian responded to Mickey's expression of disbelief.

Ian was completely and utterly serious. That shit happened a lot.

In fact, had Ian not been so busy pushing Mickey out of the store, the plastic bag filled with shit they needed for dinner and the expensive -- but probably not correct -- Rosè in one of his hands, making sure his husband didn't go to prison for stabbing the geriatric bitch, he would have gotten really fucking pissed and probably have gone off at the grandma himself.

If Mickey didn't attempt to go after the fucking thieves, like the sociopath he was, Ian would've probably pulled out his gun and pointed it at the men's fucking back. Maybe he would've even tried emptying the clip.

Mickey trying to strangle Tommy was good enough of a distraction for Ian not to beat the asshole up himself. How fucking dare he talk about marriage like that, the drunk bitch. Ian would've been a second away from hurling himself at Tommy and beating the shit out of him -- but fuck it if Ian was gonna let Mickey get arrested for aggravated assault and risk his parole.

The kids at the bleachers didn't bother him. He knew Mickey had a soft spot for kids himself, so it was more of a hissy fit than a homicidal fit.

Debbie was the one that truly made his blood boil.

"You know," Ian began. "I would've probably signed a death warrant on Debbie and mine's relationship that night if you weren't there."

"How so?" Mickey was caressing Ian's cheek with his thumb, giving him the biggest case of heart-eyes. Ian didn't doubt that was how he was looking at Mickey himself.

"When she was saying that shit, all I could think of was making sure you didn't kill her. I barely registered what the fuck she was saying. I was trying to keep you from flipping the table and making Franny an orphan." Mickey rolled his eyes but kept silent. He knew there was truth in Ian's words. "But, if you weren't there. If Debbie had just started talking about me and the whole bipolar thing and I didn't have you to keep me from actually letting the words sink in..." He drifted off, not knowing how he would've reacted. The words would have probably cut him deep.

Shifting closer, Mickey pressed his palm against Ian's cheek. "Do we need to talk about how you should under no circumstance listen to your bitch of a sister? What happened all those years ago happened while you were manic and off your meds. Her using that as a comeback in an argument is low and a fucking betrayal. Right now, you are the healthiest you've been since your diagnosis and you shouldn't let her get in your head. Hell, if I have to, I'll fucking try and murder anyone to stop the words from -- what did you say -- sinking in?" Ian laughed wetly, feeling himself get emotional over Mickey's little speech.

"You're amazing, Ian." He finished. "I'm proud of you."

Ian pulled Mickey's body close, making their naked bodies press flush against each other. Their noses touched as Ian took a moment to appreciate what the universe had given him. The soft lines of Mickey's face, the blemishes, and the tiny scars -- the eyebrows Ian had joked were iconic to him -- everything that made Mickey Milkovich his Mickey.

A kid forged in hate and homophobia, morphed by the Southside into a short-tempered thug, capable of murder in the blink of an eye if you so much as looked at him wrong. A Milkovich taught to care for nobody but family, to stay loyal to them and never snitch, but also taught to put a bullet in their fucking heads if betrayed. A hard-ass and a thief, ready to shamelessly steal from any store of his choosing, barely giving a shit whether it lands him in juvie or not.

A man capable of so much love. A man who took care of Ian when he was at his worst, made sure to keep him safe and protected. The man who came out for him in front of his worst nightmare, all so he could keep Ian, even if he was nothing but a mess kept together by unawareness. A man capable of murder for Ian. A man capable of running away with Ian. A man capable of going back to prison for Ian. A man who loved Ian, and would always try to keep him safe.

"You done staring?" Mickey smirked at him.

Ian smiled, shaking his head slightly. "I don't think I'll ever be." He then added, quietly, "I'm so lucky."

Mickey nodded, his lips mere inches away from Ian's. "I am too."

Soft lips moved against each other slowly, creating a rhythm Ian never wanted to lose.

He knew he never would.

His life, even after all the worst possible shit a person could imagine, was pretty fucking great. All thanks to Mickey.

His husband.

His partner.

His soulmate.

His worse half.

His Milkovich.

THE END

[innaminitus]

Alone

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Request:  Hi! I love your work. I was wondering if I can please have Sirius Black x FemReader smut. Where they spend Christmas with reader's muggle family. Reader's family is so in love with her charming new boyfriend that the two barely get a second to themselves. They have tried to sneak away and let's say they have been caught in some comprising positions. Eventually, they get time to themselves for some adult fun. (form: @sweetandsourfics​)

Warnings: smut, young!sirius, shitty proofreading

Word count: 1898

A/N: this took so freaking long to finish, i’m sorry. also tumblr hates me and i am upset because this post won’t show up on the “recent” page (therefore reblogs are very welcome and apprieciated) 

Nervous wasn’t the word that could possibly describe how you felt. Scared would maybe be better. Terrified, perhaps. You boyfriend, on the other hand, seemed as excited as ever. His shaggy hair was glistening with melted snow, his smile bright as the sun. He was so happy… Christmas was always special time for you, but never for him. You wanted to change it, and he was more than pleased to let you. That’s why you invited him to spend Christmas with you and your family. Your parents were always supportive, and always so curious about the wizarding community, so when you wrote them a letter asking if it was okay for Sirius to come they were happy to agree. Only now it didn’t seem like a good idea. Sirius was charming and funny, but what if your parents won’t like him?

“Y/N!” Your mom stormed out of the house as soon as you got out of the cab. She closed you in a tight hug. “I’ve missed you so much!”

“Me too,” you laughed in her hair, hugging her back. She smelled like cinnamon sticks and dried oranges, the best possible scent ever.

Your dad walked to you as well and grabbed your suitcase after hugging you.

“Mom, dad, this is Sirius.” You grabbed his hand and smiled lovingly at his rosy cheeks.

“It’s so nice to meet you!” You boyfriend wasn’t intimidated at all when he shook hands with your dad, and was just a bit surprised when your mom pulled him into a hug.

“We’ve heard so much about you!” She took a step back, but still held his arms. “I hope you like casserole, Y/N told me you do, so I made some for today’s dinner and–“

“Honey,” your dad stopped her chattering. “Let’s go outside first, it’s snowing again, we’ll freeze here.”

“Yes, you’re right,” she laughed and shook her head. “I’m just so glad to have you both here.”

Your father opened the door and let you all in. “Sirius will sleep in the guest room, is that alright?”

“Perfect, sir,” he answered, smiling widely.

“I’ll show him the room,” you anticipated your mom, who already opened her mouth, and grabbed Sirius’ hand.

You dragged him to said room and sighed when he closed the door behind him. He placed his bag on the bed and turned to you with soft smile.

“Your parents are really cool, you know?” He gently grabbed your face in his hands and brought you as close as he could without breaking eye contact.  

“They can be a little… too much. Especially mom,” you laughed softly.

He leaned and kissed your smile, warmth of his lips made you lean onto him and wrap your arms around his waist. You opened your lips slightly, his tongue slipped into your mouth.

“Kids!” You heard your mom calling you. “Come for dinner!”

With a sigh you kissed Sirius once again and with slight smile left the room.

***

You thought that trying to get some private time was hard enough at Hogwarts, but your home was whole another level of impossible. The thing is, your parents really loved Sirius. He was charming, as always, and he soon became their favorite. Everything had to be approved by him, every dish seasoned to his liking, and they never had enough of his stories about the “big, wizarding world” as they called it. It was all adorable and you were happy they liked him, but it made everything much more difficult for you.

First night when Sirius tried to sneak into your room, the squeaking floor woke your parents and your mother rushed out of the bed to give Sirius a glass of water he surely woke up for. Yes, your parents were all too helpful.

But now… this could be the day. Your father and mother went out to buy some groceries for Christmas and currently you were sitting on Sirius, his tongue in your mouth, your fingers lost in his black hair. His hands were on your hips, guiding you slightly back and forth, just enough so you could grind onto his hard length still trapped in his jeans. You were purposefully wearing only skirts, so now the stiff material of this trousers rubbed you perfectly through your thin, wet panties. You sighed in his mouth when he moved you harder on his hardness, just enough to hit your pulsing clit. You brought him closer, feeling the pleasure slowly spill in your lady parts. While one of his hands stayed on your hips, the other travelled up, under your sweater where it kneaded your breast through your soft bra.

The door swung open. “Honey, I forgot to ask you– Oh.“ You’ve never jumped so fast before. Your mom was all red, with her hand on the doorknob and shopping list in the other. “–If Sirius likes spinach.” She decided to pretend as if nothing was happening before she entered the room and you thanked for that in your mind, even though she seemed a little struck.

“I– I love spinach,” Sirius said, breaking uncomfortable silence. “But maybe I should go with you, I’m sure you could use someone to carry the groceries.”

You knew what he was doing. He wanted to make your mom feel more comfortable with the thought that you two won’t be alone at home again, and even though your pussy ached for his dick like never before you had to admit it was smart. He dulled her vigilance, and she would soon forget it.

“Yes, thank you, dear.” She smiled at him hesitantly. “It would be a great help.”

He touched your hand reassuringly and left with your mom. You heard him put on his shoes and your mom asking whether there were Christmas songs in this “wizarding world”, and then them closing the door.

You were left alone in the guest room that already smelled like Sirius, with your panties wet and pulsing pussy. With a sigh you lied down on the pillows, accidentally landing on his shirt. You wanted to move it out of your way, but as soon as your fingers touched the fabric you felt your beloved scent of brown sugar and cheap cigarettes and your pussy throbbed again.

You knew they weren’t going to be back within an hour… and you were so horny. Without a second thought you brought the shirt closer to your face, closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, until your whole existence consisted only of this smell. Your hand slid under the skirt and touched soaking panties. You were all sensitive from grinding onto Sirius and even the slightest touch was enough to make you pant. You grabbed the material and pulled it up, so the panties formed a single stipe of fabric that sunk between your folds. You pulled it again, rubbing it against your clit, and continued doing so until the pleasure got mixed with Sirius’ scent, until your clit was swollen and pulsing and your panties so wet they slid up and down your cunt without any effort at all. Soon you felt orgasm building in your body, you bit onto the shirt and moaned your way through ecstasy and shaking knees. That goddamned boy.

***

You weren’t sleeping at night, you were wondering how to finally get some time alone with Sirius, and nothing, absolutely nothing was coming to your head. Your mom would surely be more careful with leaving you two alone and it was already the night before Christmas, which meant only two days more at your house, since you were going back to Hogwarts for New Year’s Eve to spend it with the rest of your friends.

Your thoughts were interrupted by the soft knocking on your door. Sure it was your mom you got up and, yawning, opened the door, almost screaming when you saw a black dog. Your heart skipped the beat and the dog silently walked into your room.

“Sirius! You almost scared me to death!” You whispered, trying to calm yourself down as he turned back to his human form in all of his naked glory.

“Was hopin’ you would forgive me that,” he smirked as he slowly walked to you, who were unable to move, absolutely struck. “Your parents really have light sleep, but I figured I am much more silent as a dog.” He caught your chin in two fingers and forced you to look up into his face. “But we have to be very quiet which I know you are not too good at.”

“I’ll be quiet, I promise,” you gasped as he leaned down for a kiss.

“It also means we have to be quick.”

“I don’t need foreplay.”

He smirked again. “Great,” he laughed silently and slid down your pajama pants “because you’re not getting any.”

He lifted you up and placed you on your bed, hovering over you. His big hands pushed onto your thighs to spread your legs wide and for a second he admired your glistening pussy, still a little swollen from your previous fun. He looked at your blushed face with a wide smile. Oh, he knew what you were doing earlier.

He lined his cock with your entrance. You expected him to slid into you little by little, as usual, to give you time to adjust, but he was needy. He thrusted into you whole at once, making you gasp. You quickly covered your mouth with your hand, sudden feeling of being so marvelously full almost made you come on the spot. He pulled out almost entirely only to slam back into you, then again, and again, and again until he found the rhythm that would be hard enough for both of you and not make the bed hit the wall each time.

His hands were pressing on your thighs, spreading them wider with every thrust, but it was he pillow that you placed under your lower back that made him reach deeper, in a better angle that made you both shiver. He quickened slightly, his hair a beautiful mess as you reached to pull it, so you could kiss him on his sweaty cupid’s bow. Your other hand was between your bodies, rubbing circles on your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, close enough to come. When you saw sparkles in his eyes you knew he was close, too.

“Fuck,” he panted. “Fuck, Y/N… Can I cum in you?”

He’s never done it before and the thought made you excited. You were safe thanks to magic and the idea of his cum spilling deep inside of you was enough to make you come immediately.

“Yes! Fuck, cum in me, Sirius!” You moaned, his hand quickly covered your mouth.

A few fast thrusts helped you ride down your orgasm, but then you felt it. The hotness of his cum as it shot into you and uncontrolled spasms made you come again, this time even harder, hard enough to make you bite your lower lip to blood.

Sirius, panting, slid out of you and lied down next to you. As you felt his semen flowing down your thighs you heard your clock make a silent sound that meant it was midnight.

“Merry Christmas, Sirius,” you whispered and gently kissed his bare arm.

He smiled as he looked at you.

“Merry Christmas, love.”

[starcrossedkaiju]

Kingslayer AU: Chapter 11

The big one! This literally took weeks to complete. I wanted it to be done.

We are inching ever closer to the end of this arc. Two more chapters I think.

This one is much longer than the recent ones, but don’t worry. That theme most likely won’t continue.

Warnings: // non-explicit blood, violence, and injury, Major Character Death(s) \\

Scar called upon all of his allies on an exceptionally cold evening, a wicked blizzard was blowing through the server as Scott walked hand in hand with Jimmy through the white-out. Even the desert wasn’t spared from the stirring storm.

A broken line of lights were ascending up Monopoly Mountain, all headed to the same meeting.

When everyone had arrived, warm drinks were passed around. Cleo, Bdubs, Tango, Scott, Jimmy, Grian, and the resident Enderman were huddled in the living area.

Scott was biting his nails, so to speak. He was pretty sure he knew what they were there for; and he was not excited. He sat next to Jimmy and begged that the Red Desert wasn’t going to start a war with Dogwarts. It was going to happen sooner or later, everyone knew that, but Scott felt an ounce of selfishness.

Things were going so well.

He was starting to feel like he was on the wrong side of history. Sitting in that room, Scott had been to Dogwarts after Grain and Scar had tried to burn Skiz’s banner. He was in the room when they started talking about war; and here he was again. In a room talking about war.

He was there for quiet conversations about nonstop threats from Scar and Grian, how they were going to protect themselves, and questioning why it had to be them.

Pizza was dead. The air was unstable, everyone could feel it.

Scar began talking about a plan to trap the Sand Castle. Grian was confident that their new bunker would protect them well enough and had even started moving their things out. Dogwarts was to be baited into the castle where Scar would be waiting for them, to pull the trigger and blow the entire building to smithereens with the Red Army inside.

The thought of it made Scott’s insides turn. He’d already jeopardized his entire mission by falling for Dogwarts, becoming their friend when he was supposed to hate them, he kicked up the dirt when he suggested that Etho’s house was flammable, another slip up and the house of cards he’d built could be pulled down around him.

The whole meeting Scott just sat on the couch feeling sick. Too cowardly to say it was wrong. When he knew it was wrong. Like always, he let someone else steer his life for him. Scott watched as everyone agreed and started leaving. A feeling of distance fell upon him as he walked back home, Jimmy in the lead this time.

Tomorrow. He only had until tomorrow to decide whose side he was on. Scott stared at the ceiling in bed, he knew he wouldn’t be seeing a second of sleep when his pager started beeping. Already knowing who it was, Scott quietly left the house once more.

Dogwarts was eerily silent on top, but a quiet conversation emitted from the living quarters. Every member was sat around the room conversing with each other about their plan of attack. Tango shot him a glance when he entered the room, his eyes went wide and he excused himself from his conversation with Joel.

“Scott?” He whispered scoldingly when he was close enough, shoving the other to the most empty side of the room.

“I can’t do this Tango, I’m telling them,” Scott whispered.

“What? No, no, no, you can’t back out now! My god- Scott how could you even come here?” Tango hissed through his teeth.

“This is wrong! You know it’s wrong! I can’t just stand by anymore, I can’t do this to them,” Scott tried to keep his composure. He pleaded.

“And what about the others? What about you? Us?” Tango asked, his face was pale.

Scott closed his eyes, he’d done everything in his power to give as little information as he could about the Red Desert Alliance to Dogwarts. He wanted to protect people, of course, but he knew there was no escaping the war. Even if he didn’t say anything tonight. Something would happen tomorrow.

His friends were wrong, he’d grown enough to see that.

“I’m sorry,” he said, drowning out the lump in his throat and turning away from Tango, who yanked his sleeve in a last ditch effort. It was too late.

Scott strode over to Ren, tapping him on the shoulder. The Red King looked down, dismissing Etho and addressing Scott.

“Hey dude,” he greeted.

Scott’s hands shook as he formulated his admission, “The Red Desert is going to war with you tomorrow,” he said. Plain and simple.

The horrific shock on Tango and Impulse’s faces could easily be read as concern for the Red Army.

Scott felt like he shrunk to the size of an atom as everyone took turns looking at each other. Ren brought a steady hand to his chin, resting it on his knuckles in thought. The lights glared pure white off his glasses.

He walked to the table in the middle of the room and gazed upon the map, leaning over it to ponder. Scott fell back against the wall, his heart was pounding in his ears. He wasn’t even paying attention when Ren started firing off about their plan of action.

He wasn’t listening when Tango yelled at him on the way home. All he could think about was what the hell he was going to do now.

The jig was certainly going to be up tomorrow. Someone was going to be accused of spying, and when one of them went down, so would the rest.

What would Jimmy think of him? Should he just come clean? Admit to joining the Red Army on accident and let him figure out how he felt about it?

It didn’t matter. Scott had three hours to rest his eyes, and spend possibly the last peaceful night he would ever have with his husband.

The morning was spent mostly in silence. Scott gathered his weapons and stocked his arsenal with potions. He stared at the wall and went over the situation in his head. Preparing goodbyes, apology speeches, everything he could think of that might go wrong.

“Hey,” Jimmy came up behind him, taking a fire resistant potion out of his hand, “I was scared you were gonna drop it if you floated away any further,” he sat down on the workbench.

“Are you scared?” he asked, taking Scott’s hand and interlocking their fingers.

Scott closed his eyes, leaning his head on Jimmy’s shoulder. He nodded his head, not in the mood to lie.

“So am I,” Jimmy confessed, “just promise me something?” he tucked Scott’s stray hairs behind his ears.

“No goodbyes,” he said. As if he was swearing it into existence.

Scott nodded, doing his best to smile optimistically. He held out his pinkie finger in a gesture of promise. Jimmy hooked his own pinkie around it and shook it a bit, leaning forwards to touch foreheads with the other before leaving to get his armor.

They left at dawn and shivered all the way to the Red Desert. It was exceptionally cold that morning. Like the weather was also fighting in their war. A small group of people was gathered at the bottom of Monopoly Mountain. Most of them were sat sharpening their weapons and counting their arrows. Scott spotted Tango and shot him the most apologetic look he could manage before excusing himself to talk to him.

“Tango,” Scott started.

“You know they’re going to be here any second,” Tango said, “so why don’t you tell us about the plan like you did for them?”

Scott was making his mind up about what he should say when an arrow shot into the sand near his feet. He looked up, scanning the tree line.

It was too late.

Everyone gathered on the sand snapped to attention, drawing their weapons and forming a group opposite to the Red Army. Scar was shaking his head, asking himself how this could happen. Scott walked wearily to the frontlines, his free hand was taken by Jimmy.

Everyone in the Red Desert looked at each other, then Scar raised his bow, and that was it.

Scott was jumped by Impulse. Better him than anyone else, even if his blows were a bit harder due to bitterness. They went back and forth stealing glances at the rest of the battle where a few mounds had been constructed to hide behind.

Impulse kicked Scott onto his back and kneeled on his stomach, taking his air. He leaned in, sparing nervous glances to their surroundings.

“I hope you got your fill of righteousness,” he hissed.

Scott gasped for air, “this was going to happen whether I had a part in it or not,” he said.

“How could you?!” Impulse shouted, but whatever else he was going to say was stolen when Bdubs rushed him from the side, throwing both of them off of Scott and into their own cloud of dust.

Scott breathed in a lung full of dust and rolled over, stumbling to his feet and spinning around to gauge the battle. It was a blur. His mind flew to looking for Jimmy. Someone grabbed his wrist and pulled him behind a shield, where a stray arrow plunged into the wood.

“Where is Grian?” Tango shook Scott’s arm, sweat was rolling down his face through a coat of brown dust.

“I don’t know! I haven’t seen him since..” Scott froze.

Tango seemed to read the pallid expression on his face and nodded encouragingly.

Scott didn’t finish his sentence. He threw himself to his feet and sprinted across the battlefield, towards the border of the desert. A series of blueprints he’d seen all those weeks ago flashed through his head as he ran. Dodging arrows and slamming into his fellow server mates.

Finally, he rounded a barricade and saw what he was hoping not to see. A few hundred yards away, Scar was taking Ren and Martyn in battle. Inching ever closer to a disarmingly empty plot of land. Scott knew that if you weren’t aware, you’d barely be able to see the tiny windows sticking out of the sand.

“Scar!” he called out.

Nobody heard him.

Even if they did, there was no time.

The ground under his feet rumbled, causing him to drop his weapon before a flash of pure light pierced the air. He heard screams for a moment, but they were quickly drowned out by a wall of fire ejecting itself from the ground. Scott was knocked off his feet and launched through the air.

He hit the ground with a painful thud, but he didn’t come to a stop until he’d bounced head over heels a few feet further.

Scott’s nose was pressed into the ground as he rolled around in pain. He pushed himself to his knees with shaking arms.

In front of him was a gigantic, jagged crater carved into the ground. Smoke and fire billowed from its crude maw. Scott coughed and tried to wave away the suffocating ash to no avail. It permeated his eyes and throat.

Scott realized he had been rendered deaf for the moment, and partially blind for that matter. He struggled to his feet and outstretched his arms for balance, falling over twice before his purchase returned to him.

Someone grabbed his arms from behind and spun him around, touching his face and holding him up steadily.

“I can’t hear!” Scott shouted, pointing to his ears in case whoever it was didn’t understand him.

“Can’t see you,” he pointed at his eyes and then at where he assumed the person was.

The person took his hand and formed it into a fist, then interlocked their pinkie with his own.

“Jimmy?” Scott asked, he rubbed his eyes but his hands were taken away. Jimmy positioned his face gently and he felt water in his eyes, washing away the charred debris.

His vision returned to him as the stinging in his eyes subsided. Not so much the same for his hearing, but that was okay. Jimmy hugged him close and looked him over one more time, before tracing the word “stay” on Scott’s palm.

Scott nodded, watching the other go off into the smoke. Probably to help people.

Something moved in his peripheral vision. Through the black smoke came a figure. Scott recognized it as Scar. He was climbing out of the crater. His movements looked painful, he was dragging something behind him.

It became apparent when he hoisted the object over the edge of the crater that Scar was dragging a limp Grian behind him. He laid the other out on the sand, hovering over him with concern etched on his face.

Scott crawled over, shouting to see if Scar could hear him. He pointed at his ears and shook his head. Scott wished he knew human sign language.

Scar turned his attention back to attempting to wake Grian, who wasn’t moving. He didn’t even seem to be breathing. Sensing that Scar was beginning to get very upset, Scott told him to sit back.

First he tried patting Grian on the chest, tapping his forehead, then observing him for any sign of breathing. His lips weren’t blue yet, he was still alive. Scott took his fist and pressed it deeply into Grian’s sternum, then firmly rubbed up and down.

Grian didn’t move at first, then his eyes flew open under his cracked glasses. His arms shot up to cover his chest and he cursed profusely at how he’d been woken up. He’d probably have a bruise for a while.

Scott motioned for him to calm down and breathe. Count to ten and back, and so on. Grian followed his instructions, wiping the dirt from his face and off his probably useless glasses.

Once he was sure Grian and Scar were fine, he quietly excused himself. The dust has started to clear now and the silhouettes of Dogwarts and the Red Desert alike were milling around, nobody seemed to be fighting anymore. Presumably lost without their respective captains. Scott’s ears has started ringing, and behind the din he could hear the ghosts of people shouting.

Scott idly counted the people around him. Some were huddled over a hastily constructed furnace attempting to brew last minute healing potions. As he counted, he kept coming up short. He counted again, and again. Every time there were two people missing.

He turned back to the crater. Whose smoke had started dissipating into the sky. He knew who was missing, and as he stared into the gaping wound of the earth, a hand reached up to the sky. Then came down on the jagged cliff, pulling the rest of the body to the surface.

Ren fell in a heap at the edge of the hole. Breathing hard from his journey to the top. Scott didn’t know whether or not to offer him help. His sunglasses were nowhere to be found, probably crunched beneath the debris of the bunker and the rest of the desert, and he was covered in a layer of collateral grime. It painted his clothes black and made his yellow eyes stand out.

He pushed himself to his knees with a lot of trouble, scanning the destroyed battle field with a mirthful expression until his gaze fell on Scott. The way in which they locked eyes made Scott flinch, he was in big trouble.

His mind told him he needed to diffuse the situation, but he was still without most of his hearing. It would be even harder if Ren had also been deafened. A familiar “why me” rang through his head. The urge to just leave and call everything quits nagged at him.

Ren stood on shaking legs and made his way, as quick as he could manage, into Scott’s personal space, who backed away; but he yanked his arm.

He stared talking very fast. Scott saw his mouth move but barely any noise actually processed in his mind. Scott shouted as clearly as he could that he couldn’t hear. Throwing in a few sorry’s as he went.

Ren dragged his hands from the tips of his ears down his face in frustration, his fingertips left smudges on his cheeks and over his eyes. He began doing sign language, but Scott shook his head.

By now a small congregation of people had started observing the argument from a distance. All of them more privy to what Ren was mad about than Scott was. Heat rose to his face in embarrassment as he tried to talk over Ren, trying to explain himself. Ren had started yelling as if it would help, and the argument was getting visibly heated when Jimmy stepped in.

He pushed Ren back with force so that he stumbled. This seemed to cause a chain reaction. Ren shoved Jimmy back, and they went back and forth until Jimmy threw a punch.

Scott attempt to make them stop, he came between them and ordered them to calm down, but tensions were far too high for any de-escalating. His emotions were verging on a serious breakdown, frantically begging the fight to stop. To let him explain.

Nobody heard him. If they did, they didn’t care.

Ren had taken out his damaged axe and started swinging.

Jimmy kicked Ren in the stomach, the ladder fell on his back and Jimmy kicked him again.

“Jimmy stop it!” Scott shouted, and he could almost hear himself.

Jimmy looked up at him, still standing over the Red King. His eyes were furious.

Something passed quickly in Scott’s periphery, so he turned around.

Behind him, one foot still propping himself out of the crater, was Martyn. A freshly shot bow still aimed in front of him. His eyes were dark and angry as he stared right past Scott.

Scott turned back to Jimmy, whose eyes were fixed and frozen on Martyn. He staggered back, looking down at his chest where a poisoned arrow had pierced his battle-worn chest plate. His hand wrapped around the projectile, and as if he weren’t even thinking, he wrenched it from his flesh.

Jimmy’s expression read as shock. Right before his eyes rolled into his head and he fell like a load of bricks onto his knees, then his back. His fingers were still wrapped tightly around the arrow. Covered in a mixture of blood and sickly green poison.

He fell, and he stayed.

Scott didn’t have a second to process. Not even the thought to scream, reach out, or run came to him. A blanket of nauseating numbness draped itself around him. His mind left him as he stared helplessly. He watched as Jimmy’s lifeless body grew tendrils of thorny vines until it was consumed indefinitely. Only an arrow wrapped in rose vines remained. Light green flowers bloomed and waved in the wind.

And as if he were watching himself on a screen, Scott did something that he didn’t know he could do. That he had forgotten he could do.

A flash of light illuminated the livid grey sky.

Just as fast, Scott had approached Martyn, who didn’t have time to run. He didn’t have time to put his arms in front of his face as Scott’s hand curled into a fist.

He brought his knuckles down on the center of Martyn’s face, an audible crunch sounded out as he was knocked off his feet. A horrified expression painted itself on his face as he held his bleeding nose.

Scott raised his fist again, and as he did a string of dry lighting spread across the sky. He aimed again, and when his fist met Martyn’s face, a bolt of light shot down from the sky. It turned the world into a pure white canvas with an ear piercing roar.

In its wake was a blackened patch of burning sand. Scott and Martyn sat just as they had been before, but Martyn would not get up.

His body lay bruised and burnt, eyes closed tightly in pain. The rose vines claimed his remains quickly, wrapping around a pair of bloodied hands instead of an arrow this time.

Scott stayed bent over where his friend had been. Tears streamed down his face as the static disappeared from his ears. He ripped his arms out of the thorns which tore at his bandages. Blood permeated the wrappings, but he didn’t know how much was his.

He pushed himself away, kneeling in the grave he’d created.

“Major,” someone said, cold and angry.

A hand planted itself firmly on his shoulder, spinning him around forcefully. Scott had only a second to see that it was Ren, before he was hoisted up by the front of his shirt and thrown across creation. Landing hard on his ass for the second time that day. His shoulder made a nauseating POP, hanging limply and awkwardly at his side when he pushed himself up.

Ren placed his foot on his chest to keep him down.

Behind Ren, the greater alliance of Dogwarts had gathered. Confusion and betrayal was etched on their faces.

“Not a word, Major,” Ren said. Low and forced, his eyes were blown wide with something like fear.

Then he raised the handle of his broken axe over his head, the hilt made contact with Scott’s skull.

Lights out.

[starryse]

Tent Bonding

Mingyu x Reader

Fluff, slight angst, implied sexual themes

1,663 words

Summary: it’s your annual camping trip with your friends, but there’s a change of plans this time around..specifically in love

The woods that surrounded the small campsite went on for miles, the lights of the city seeming to be non-existent. Shades of orange and yellow in the sunset lit up the clearing, casting bright shadows off of the trees. You stood on the outskirts of the site, admiring the calm environment. It was a nice change compared to the busy city, the sounds of traffic replaced by the small chirps of birds and the scurrying of the animals running amongst the forest floor.

“Yah! Watch the food, that’s all we have!” Seungcheol’s sudden voice carried through the trees, scaring off the birds that had taken shelter on the branches. You turned your head over your shoulder, peering back at the scene behind you. Soonyoung held the basket of food close to his chest as he tripped over dirt piles and twigs, Seungcheol following close behind, his hands extended, in case Soonyoung fell- not that he was worried for his member, the food was his priority, of course.

You stifled a laugh, covering your mouth with your hoodie sleeve.

“Hey y/n, wanna help me set up the table?” Joshua appeared in front of you, a bag of appliances in hand. You nodded your head, following him to the large picnic table. The table was across from the tents a few of the boys were setting up, right in front of the fire pit that was poorly dug in the ground.

Joshua passed you one end of the dark blue tablecloth, unfolding the cloth over the middle of the table. Once spread to each corner, you taped the end pieces underneath the wooden table, not trusting the wind to keep it in place. Josh grinned, giving you a half-five, “easy peasy.”

You laughed, nodding with what he said, “just be glad we didn’t get tent set up-“

You both turned your heads, chuckling at the chaotic mess the boys were as they miserably set the tents up. One of the tents were lopsided, the other two not even put together quite yet. The cry’s and complaints were heard even across the clearing, the boys laying across the grass in frustration.

“Should we help them?” Josh spoke through giggles, his smile wide across his face

You contemplated your answer. It was highly entertaining watching the boys struggle, as they were so confident in the car. You could still hear their cocky remarks, “were men Y/n! We can put up a simple 2 step tent, okay. Have faith in your friends!” Plus, you were still pissed at Mingyu for acting like a douche over something as simple as you wanting to ride with Jeonghan to the site.

“I dunno, watching Mingyu struggle has been the highlight of my day so far, asshole deserves it from earlier.”

Joshua hummed, understanding why you were mad at the dark haired boy, “it is highly deserved”

“It is-“ you were cut off by the shout of Seungkwan, his voice echoing long after he finished talking.

“Hey you two!”

You and Joshua tensed. Seungkwan marched over, tent sticks in hand, “why are you standing here being useless while I work so hard to put up the tents?!”

Seungkwan held up his hand, shutting up Joshua very quickly, “I don’t wanna hear it, follow me”

You unwillingly followed the grumbling boy, watching as his hands flew left and right as he complained about “how lazy some people are”. Gripping your hand, Seungkwan tugged you to help setup with the left crew (composed of Mingyu, Seokmin & Chan), while Joshua was pulled to the right (Vernon, Seungkwan & Jeonghan).

You stumbled over the hammer that was carelessly lying about, earning a few snickers from Seokmin and Chan- though they immediately shut up when you stared them down.

Seokmin waved you over, patting the spot in the grass next to him, which happened to be right by Mingyu, “come sit, y/n! We need all the help we can get”

You could feel Mingyu’s eyes on you as you moved to sit down, though ignoring it didn’t do too much as your face heated up anyhow; whether that was from nerves or the fact you were still pissed at him, you wouldn’t know. Now you were a fumbling, pissy, mess as you turned your head to ask Chan a question, “Hey Channie?”

Chan hummed, his eyes quickly darting up to meet yours before he refocused on the tent,

“Who’s in what tent?”

That seemed to get his attention as he nervously slid his hand on the back of his neck, avoiding yours and Mingyu’s gaze as much as possible, “well we only have 3 tents, and they’re uh-“ he began to stutter, “pretty big, so we couldn’t fit anymore in the car-“

Oh you didn’t like where this was going.

Chan finally raised his head from anxiously toying with the grass in front of him, “but I figured I could squeeze in one of the small ones from last years trip-“

You cut him, a short sigh leaving your lips, “meaning Mingyu and I will be sharing one, right?”

Chan gulped, mumbling an mhm. Seokmin darted his eyes back and forth from you and Mingyu, who was currently chewing on the inside of his cheek, “that’s not a problem right? I mean, I can always stay with you, y/n-“

“No.”

Your eyes snapped in Mingyu’s direction, his lips in a thin line above his clenched jaw, “that won’t be necessary, they’re fine with me. Right, y/n?”

His eyes dashed to yours, not budging from their place. You quickly nodded in agreement, no clear words forming a response.

The sound of someone clearing their throat in front of you caused all 4 of yours heads to pop up, meeting the confused face of Seungcheol, “is everything okay here?”

A chorus of yeahs and mhms broke the awkward silence, Seungcheol casually shrugging it off with a pout, “anyways, it’s dinner time. We can finish these up afterwards”

You had never been to such an awkward dinner. At least for you and the guy across from you it was.

The entire dinner was spent by ignoring Mingyu’s glances, or the few times he bumped your knee with his own. The other boys continued to laugh and wreak havoc as per usual, but you and Mingyu seemed to be in your own worlds.

You cleared your throat, catching Minghao’s attention next to you, “I think imma head to bed”. Minghao sympathized with you, he knew how close you and Mingyu were, and he hated seeing you two act as if you didn’t know one another.

“Alright, please try and work it out?” You could only budge a sad smile at him, muttering a quiet goodnight. He patted the small of your back as you got up, tossing your plate in the trash bag that was strung on the tree for you.

Meanwhile, Mingyu creeper mode was activated as he silently watched the encounter. He could feel the guilt eat away at his stomach, he hated when you were upset. And knowing he was the cause, was even worse. Minghao exchanged looks with him after you left, a silent agreement settling between the two as Mingyu trudged after you.

When Chan said the tent was small, you forgot just how small he had meant.

The tent was barely big enough to fit a sleeping bag, let alone 2. Meaning you and Mingyu were to be up each other’s asses the rest of the night. Your shoulder deflated as you sighed, a disapproved look etched on your face.

You began to roll out the sleeping bag on the hard floor of the tent, adjusting it so it was as close to the wall as possible. With all the rustling of the bag as it slid around, you didn’t notice the sound of the tent unzipping. That is, until someone coughed right next to your ear.

You let out a sharp screech, body jumping out of its skin before you fell to the ground in shock. After you recovered from the almost heart attack, you whipped around to be with the sullen expression of Mingyu. His features resembled a puppy as his eyes were innocently looking into your own.

He moved to sit on his own sleeping bag he had set up earlier, “I’m really sorry for how I acted earlier, y/n”

You fell back onto your butt, sitting criss cross across from Mingyu. Your lip was hues of red and purple, your teeth had been gnawing on since he entered.

“I know”

Mingyu shook his head, a guilty look present in his eyes, “no, y/n. I shouldn’t have acted like that, you’re allowed to be friends with whoever you want” He paused, thoughts going haywire as he looked at you, Your face showed anger? sadness? He wasn’t sure, all he knew was he didn’t want to ever be the cause of them again.

Sucking in a breath, Mingyu quickly rambled, “I-I like you, Y/n- actually, no. I love it you”

Your heart stopped, pulse slowing down for a split second before rapidly speeding up, “w-what?” Your voice was soft, confused even.

Mingyu smiled, canines on full display. He shifted closer to you, smushing your face between his hands, “I love you y/n”

Before you could register what you were doing, you smashed your lips onto his, teeth clashing from the sudden push. Your cracked lips mixed with his own, the taste of the beer he had with dinner smothered the previous taste of champagne you had drank. Your brain was a fuzzy mess, and your stomach wasn’t so far off either.

You pulled back, a trail of saliva dripping onto your chin. Mingyu pulled his sleeve down, wiping it off, a sheepish grin etched on his face.

“I love you too”

Mingyu melted at your words, quickly reattaching his lips to yours. I think you know how the rest of the night went.