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on-a-lucky-tide · 11 days ago

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i am here thinking again. what could be the moment that price catches nikolai off-guard for once? surely even the smoothest men can be caught lacking, eh?

Nik has an allergic reaction to viagra and gives Price a small fright.

cw: allergic reaction, erectile dysfunction

"Nik, ah, Nik, stop."

Price shoved Nik's shoulders and tried to shuffle up the bed from beneath him. Something wasn't bloody right. Nik was mute, none of the usual guttural moans, or slurred Russian filth, delirious with pleasure. Nik was vocal. It was part of the fun and it got Price goin' like little else.

Hell, this was the first time they had fucked in months due to a range of different reasons, from clashing missions to meetings to Nik's schedule, and Price was expecting Nik to be ravenous. Instead, he seemed to be struggling; his brow creased, his eyes foggy.

Nik slumped to the side, propped on his elbow, his big chest heaving. "John, is there... was something wrong?"

"Yeah, you, I'm worried... Nik, look at me, oi, look at me." Price grabbed Nik's chin and lifted his head from where it was tilted forward. "Bloody 'ell, you don't look right. Think it was the resta--? Nik? Nik!"

Nik stumbled from the bed, almost tripping over the tangle of blankets and pillows wrapped around his legs. He just about made it to the toilet before the expensive three course meal and the few glasses of Macallan they'd knocked back after became a wasted investment.

Price walked into the en suite after him, rubbing a warm palm over his back. "Ay, you're alrigh', deep breaths between." As Nik's body continued to seize and tense, Price looked the rest of him over. There were hives on the back of the hands grasping the toilet bowl and his skin was cold to the touch, clammy, not the flushed heat it should have been from sex. "Nik, 'm gonna call the infirmary."

"Nyet!" Nik near shouted into the toilet bowl, reaching out to grab Price just behind the knee before he could walk away. "Nyet, John... It will pass."

"Don't be a muppet. They'll give you a look over and make sure you don't need A&E." Price grabbed one of his travel mugs and filled it with water from the tap. Nik took it from him in a shaking hand and managed several gulps before slumping back against the wall, throwing the toilet seat down as he went. His chin fell to his chest, one forearm slanted across a raised knee.

"This... This is self-inflicted," Nik said. "I am already embarrassed enough."

Price squinted, sitting slowly on the toilet lid, nudging the flush down with his elbow. "Start talkin'. This ain't like you. And if I don't think you're bein' honest, I'm callin' Janie."

"She is the doctor who signed you off for your ACL surgery."

"The very same."

"I would be in trouble."

"Yeah, loads. Stop delaying."

Nik sighed, pressing his fingers into his eyes before his palm flattened to his chest. Price could see the flush of shame up his neck, the way his eyes stayed fixed on the floor rather than look up as he spoke. "I have an allergy to sildenafil."

Price wracked his brains and then huffed an incredulous laugh. "Viagra, Nik, I..."

When Nik turned his face away, swallowing, Price wanted to kick himself with steel toe-capped size twelves for being an arsehole of a partner.

"Ay, ay, don't... I'm sorry, that was... I was just... Why the fuck are you takin' viagra?"

Nik's jaw twitched from where his teeth were clenched, and he wiped one big hand down his face. The shame rolling off of him was palpable. "I am having... problems."

"Are they... Are we talkin' life-threatening problems?"

"Nyet. I simply cannot... it will not... you know," Nik waved his hand vaguely, "I... I was screened for some things. They said perhaps it is nerve damage from some shrapnel in my back, or perhaps it is all in my head, but I am... too ashamed to pursue more."

Price slipped from the toilet to sit at Nik's side against the wall, gently sliding his hand into the one dangling over his knee. Nik always spoke openly about sex, about their relationship, chuckling when Price squirmed and blushed like a prude. To watch him fumble and close up made Price's heart ache. "Why'd ya not tell me?"

Nik huffed dismissively, still looking away. "Da, how to say to your handsome, vigorous partner that you are unable to satisfy him in bed? That your body is... useless. That you are less than a man."

"Oh yeah, so the obvious solution is to take viagra, which you are violently allergic to. Absolute banger of a solution, Nik. Top marks," Price squeezed his hand, "and all this B.S. about bein' less than a man? Wind it in. It's bollocks."

"Zatknis, John..."

"Yer a smart man, Nik. But sometimes yer a..."

"...Muppet."

"Yeah, one of those," Price growled. "Yer seein' Janie in the mornin'. Not just for the allergy, for the lot."

"John, I cannot, it--"

"It could be a lot of things. Some of them more dangerous than others. Mine was stress."

Nik looked up quickly. "You have...?"

"Oh yeah. Mine stopped workin' fer about seven months five years ago. Coincided with a few large scale international fuck ups, a crammed schedule, an injury and some physio. Couldn't get it up fer the hottest piece of arse on Grindr, even if ya paid me."

"I did not know..."

"Course you didn't, we weren't exactly bumpin' uglies back then, were we?"

Nik smiled. "You have such a way with words..."

"Mhm." Price stroked his thumb over the back of Nik's hand, studying his face carefully. "You solid? No tight throat? You can breathe? There's an epipen in the first aid kit in the hallway."

"I am fine. This... It was similar when I tested it, but without the--" he gestured at the toilet, "my breathing is fine. I would... like to go to bed."

"Course." Price climbed to his feet, grunting at the clashing sensation of clicking knees and a numb arse, before helping Nik do the same. "Brush yer bloody teeth so I can kiss you."

Nik huffed softly. "Da."

When they climbed back into bed, Price kissed Nik gently, and then gathered him to his chest. Nik rested his ear over Price's heart and Price stroked his fingers through his hair. There was no fuckin' way he was sleeping that night. He'd stay awake and watch Nik sleep, listening to his slow breathing, checking the pulse at his neck. In the morning, he would let Janie eviscerate him for being so laissez faire with his health.

Then, and only then, they were gonna have a long chat about honesty, openness and trust. Cause knowing that Nik would rather poison himself than 'fail' Price in any way - regardless of how legitimate Nik felt that belief was - left Price with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

#captain john price #cod nikolai #nikprice #cw vomiting #sometimes the little lad is a bit droopy #and it's embarassing #mr “must be perfect for price” nikolai

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 6 months ago

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Another celebration ficlet request! The original ask for this one seems to have gotten deleted, and it was sent on anon, so I can't even tag the person who sent it in. 😫

I hope you still see this and enjoy, nonnie! 💖

Heaven's in the backseat

Rated: E

Words: 1,000

Tags: Mafia AU; Hitman Eddie Munson; Mob boss Dick Harrington; Mentions of Stommy; Knife play; Dubious consent; Obsessive behavior; Violent thoughts; Car sex; Eddie has anger management issues and Steve is a little slut

Notes: Previous part | Part 1

Eddie has just lit his first cigarette of the night when one of the waiters informs him that Mr. Harrington wants him outside. As he grinds the cigarette under his boot, he imagines doing the same thing to Dick’s stupid head.

Working for a mob boss is so goddamn exhausting.

A week where Eddie doesn't come close to kicking the proverbial bucket is a good week - especially now that Dick has been taking him along as a bodyguard more and more often. He’s not complaining about that, though. Occupational hazard.

No, what’s really annoying is the damn black tie affairs. As if squeezing into a fucking suit wasn't enough, the social dynamics of the underworld are mind-numbingly complicated. All of the big mob families are either related or out to kill each other - more often than not both at the same time. It makes events such as this an interesting affair, to say the least. All night long, Eddie has been hovering at the edge of the room while the boss ate and drank and shook hands with other important farts. Always vigilant, always ready to pull his knife from its holster under his suit jacket. And now he can’t even step out for ten minutes to have a fucking smoke?

The car is parked in the driveway when he arrives. Next to it are the boss himself and a swaying figure with disheveled chestnut hair wearing a rumpled suit.

Eddie’s blood bubbles and his steps speed up.

“-fucking disgrace,” Harrington says just as he flies down the stairway leading to the car. “You’ll do anything for attention, won’t you?”

Eddie doesn’t catch the slurred reply, but it must’ve been the wrong one, because Harrington slaps the boy across the face before wrestling him into the backseat. Eddie’s hand is already on the knife when the asshole turns. For a heartbeat, he revels in the temptation of lodging the blade right in the middle of that ugly face, but he reigns himself in. Too much security, too many witnesses.

“My son is drunk,” Harrington says. “Drive him home.”

Before Eddie has a chance to reply, he has stalked past him and back into the venue.

“What the hell took you so long?”

Eddie casts a look into the rearview mirror to see the venue disappearing behind them and Steve straightening up in his seat. His voice is still slightly slurred, his eyes a bit unfocused - but he's nowhere near as drunk as he appeared seconds ago. Eddie's mouth tugs into a grin.

“What, I don't get a thank you for driving you? Where are your manners, little nymph?”

“Why should I thank you for doing your literal job?” Steve’s mirror image scoffs at him. His bottom lip is pink and a little puffy where his father slapped him. “And don't call me that.”

“I'm a bodyguard, not a chauffeur,” Eddie says. “There's a difference, y’know?”

“You're a dog,” Steve drawls. “You do whatever my dad tells you to.”

Eddie’s hands tighten around the steering wheel. Steve’s mouth curls at the edges, but his eyes stay bored.

“How about you?” Eddie asks, once he has blinked the crimson shadows from his vision. “What did you do to incur his wrath? Must’ve been pretty bad, if you feigned being so wasted he’d send you home like some misbehaving child.”

“None of your business, is it?” Steve snaps. Then, after a second or two, the aloof facade slips back on and he shrugs. “He caught me in the bathroom with Hagan.”

Something slithers low in Eddie’s gut, dangerous and deadly like a coil of venomous snakes.

“What? That ugly, freckled fuckface? C’mon, you can do better than that.”

Steve laughs, a sound like the edge of a knife - bright and pretty and sharp-edged. “Why do you care? You don’t own me. What is it to you if Tommy fucking Hagan shoves his cock up my-”

He doesn’t get any further than that. Eddie pulls over to the side of the road and slams on the brakes. One fluid motion later, he has scaled the middle console and has Steve pinned on the backseat, wrists trapped over his head in a one-handed vice grip.

“Oh, honey,” he murmurs, voice low and lethal. “But this is where you’re wrong, see? You are mine. And one of these days, I’m gonna make sure everyone knows it.”

Those pretty eyes go wide as he slides the knife from its holster. The blade gleams, catching what little light there is in the dark car. With one flick of his wrist, he slices away the top button of Steve’s expensive shirt, revealing the long, graceful line of that neck. Steve exhales a shaky breath and his throat bops with it.

“One of these days,” Eddie murmurs, trailing the tip of the blade over tan skin, leaving just the thinnest of red lines. “I’m gonna kill everyone who ever looked at you or touched you wrong and claim you as mine. Stuff you so full of my cock you forget about everyone else, until the only word you remember is my name. Carve my initials into that pretty skin of yours so nobody ever forgets who you belong to.”

Steve looks up at him, eyes bright and hazy, and a little whimper falls from his perfect lips. He writhes deliciously in Eddie’s hold, and for a moment, Eddie thinks he’s scared, that he’s gonna plead for mercy.

But then he slots his leg between Steve’s thighs to hold him in place and he feels it. He looks down at the boy in awed surprise and can’t help the grin that creeps over his face.

When Steve speaks, his voice is hoarse and breathy, but not from fear.

“Do it, then,” he challenges, rolling his hips and grinding his hard cock against Eddie’s thigh. His lips strain to meet Eddie’s, breath warm and wet against his skin. “Make me yours.”

Eddie has never been so happy to obey in his life.

Part 5

More celebration ficlets

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #steddie brainrot #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #hype's 1k follower ficlets #kiss that ring #mafia au

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myseungsunglove · 11 months ago

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I Wanna See You | Ksm

Pairing: Seungmin x Reader

Warnings: Smut, language

Word count: 1k

𖠫Summary: No thoughts, just finding pleasure in your boyfriend Seungmin, spread out in front of the mirror in practice room E one random Tuesday evening after dance practice.

A/N: This Drabble is from my “Yeah, just like that” smut prompt list I posted Friday. A Nonnie Wonnie requested “open your legs for me baby, I wanna see you,” with the one and only Kim Seungmin. Whew. And of course I made the mistake of publishing this in the middle of the night so no one is even gonna see it. 🫠

◠ ◡ ◠᭚ιαᵕ̈

「© December 9, 2023 by myseungsungheart」

XMDNIX

Your breathing was heavy and your head was spinning. You weren’t sure how you ended up here, but with the current state of bliss encompassing your mind, you weren’t about to start over thinking it.

You lifted your head, looking into the mirror, Kim Seungmin’s eyes meeting yours from where he was seated behind you. You are situated between his legs, naked from the waist down while he is still, regretfully, fully clothed. He has your arms held tightly behind your back in his strong hold and the other hand between your legs, his fingers dancing along your most sensitive places, a deep blush on your face.

He kisses your neck tenderly, soft, wet kisses that make your head spin. You’re so lost in the way his lips feel on your skin, you forget about where his fingers are headed until two of them plunge into your aching core, his thumb pressed expertly against your clit as he pumps into you with purpose. You seek purchase in anything you can where he holds your arms behind you, managing to get a fistful of his shirt, tugging it toward you as your body arches desperately. You can’t help but squeeze your legs together, the sensation overwhelming as his hand moves against your cunt.

He immediately withdraws his hand from you, leaving you panting and desperate. You receive a swift slap to your leg as he knocks them away from each other, spreading you wide, his lustful stare landing on your bare cunt in the mirror.

“Ah ah, y/n-ah, what did I say, hmmm?” he rumbles, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. “Open your legs for me, baby. I wanna see you,” he growls, pulling you tighter against him, your hands pushed against his hard member as he holds you tightly to him. With the hand that had, only moments ago, been buried inside you, he grabs your chin and turns it to face him, your eyes locking on his. “You’re absolutely beautiful like this, jagiya,” he whispers, his lips ghosting yours between words. “Open and vulnerable,” he breathes, his lips meeting yours in a slow and tantalizing kiss. You can’t stop the moan that escapes your throat.

“Seungmin,” you manage as his fingers dance along your neck, holding you steady through the kiss. Grounding you to him. “Seungmin, please,” you beg. You’re not even sure what you’re begging for at this point, but you want him. All of him. Any part of him he’ll give you. You’re desperate and it’s evident in the way his name falls from your lips like a prayer.

“Let me hear you, y/n,” he whispers against your mouth, his hand wandering from your neck back down to where you need him the most, settling between your thighs. He wastes no time burying two fingers in you again, your body reacting immediately, a wonton cry falling from your lips. “That’s it,” he encourages, his thumb pressing deliciously against your clit as his fingers nail that soft spot deep inside you. His hands are a gift from the gods, you think as you feel that coil winding tighter, your skin on fire as your climax nears.

“So close,” you manage through the blissful haze of your mind, your eyes meeting his in the mirror once more. “Fuck,” you breathe once you see his blown out pupils, his gaze drifting down, fixating on your cunt and his fingers plunging inside you.

“Cum on my fingers baby and then I’ll give you what you really want,” he promises.

Your hands desperately search for just that behind you, finding his bulge and squeezing him, a feral moan escaping him.

The coil snaps at the sound of his pleasure, your walls clenching down on his fingers and trying to pull him in and push him out all at once. Your body shakes and your vision goes white as he holds you close to him. You swear for a holding 30 seconds you can’t hear anything but the ocean crashing against the shore as you ride out the pleasure.

“That’s it,” he praises. “Good girl,” adds with a soft kiss to your neck, his eyes falling once again to where his fingers are buried inside you.

He releases your arms he’s been holding behind your back and you slump against him, arms aching and spent from being held like that for so long and from coming down from the heights of pleasure he so expertly brought you to. However, his hard cock presses against your back reminding you of his promise. He removes his fingers from you, and holds them to your mouth. You open, your tongue sticking it out slightly as he slips them into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the two digits.

“Fuck,” he breathes, his chest heaving now.

“There’s more where that came from,” you promise when his fingers leave your mouth with a pop. “Let me show you just how good this pussy feels wrapped around that aching cock.”

You turn on him quickly, a renewed energy finding you as you push him to the floor and pull his sweats down to his thighs, his angry red cock springs free, leaking and begging for attention. His head thuds against the ground, his eyes squeezing shut as your hand wraps around him, pumping him slowly to full hardness before you’re climbing over him and aligning your dripping hole with his cock.

You sink down onto him easily, your arousal making him an easy fit despite his generous size. He moans in response when your hips meet his, his hands reaching out and squeezing your hips, rolling you forward on his cock.

“Come here,” you whisper, grabbing his shirt and pulling him to a sitting position. Your lips lock with his as you bounce on him in earnest, his mouth falling open in the middle of the kiss, short bursts of air falling onto your lips as you ride him harder.

“I’m gonna come,” he warns, his arms wrapping around your waist and holding you to him.

“What’s stopping you?” you tease, rolling your hips again before you pull off of him and slam down once more with renewed purpose.

“Shit,” he grits out, his fingers digging into your back, gripping your shirt tight, as he unloads into you, his cum filling you perfectly and triggering a surprise orgasm from you. “Fuck!” he all but wails as your walls squeeze him tight, milking him dry. “Jagiya,” he stutters, his lips finding yours once more, his hands having found their way back to your neck to hold you against him as he kisses you fervently.

You’re still not sure how the two of you ended up here, fucking on the floor of practice room E on a random Tuesday night, but fuck if you didn’t hope it was the cool down for every dance practice from this day forward.

#seungmin x reader #seungmin smut #seungmin drabbles #Mia’s Smut Prompt Request #Kim Seungmin Smut #Kim Seungmin One Shot

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cherrieguroo · 7 months ago

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Animal crossing new horizons headcanons for the nerd bunch

Steph

- normcore I think that's what people call it but it's basically just like. a normal town with no specific style. but her house is decorated to her liking and she has her villager's home in a forest she planted herself. she also has mods and she has just a part near the top of her island where there's just a shit ton of bells just dropped on the floor.

-steph definitely gives me black tulip door wreath vibes.

-steph's favorite villager is cherry and she changed cherry's catchphrase to 'bitch' so now she says stuff like "Yeah, go for it, bitch. This oughta be good…’

-steph has a room in her house purely for 'summonings' after she found out if you combine a specific wall and flooring you can create a summoning circle.

-steph refuses to pay tom nook, so her house isn't upgraded that much.

-steph set up a small space in her island for the nerds to fool around in whenever they visited. that space now mostly consists of pit falls and stumps. someone also left a switch there and steph didn't even try to figure out who put it there and just kept it as decor for her house. also Steph has green mums outside her house which she says is supposed to be a weed farm.

Grace

-grace definitely has meticulously designed her island and it's fairycore. rip star fragment trees grace would have loved those. her island has a shit ton of pink tulips everywhere too. grace has a part of her island which is just a forest with a lot of flowers. she also has those like custom design paintings in said forest that read 'god is good' or some shit and she thinks every island should have a god forest.

-grace has the pink wedding event door thingy.

-grace has two tricycles she put outside of nook's cranny that she pretends belong to timmy and tommy

-favorite villager is ruby sorry

-grace loves the wedding event items and her island and house are full of them

Ruth

-her island is a mess to me lmao. her island tune is the iconic part in careless whisper and tiffany is her favorite villager. none of her island is actually decorated btw. and she constantly wears one of those custom design dresses that make it look like the villager has a bikini. ruth collects gyroids after she was taught how to get them by Richie. she just collects the little guys and has them outside her airport as a welcome thingy. ruth uses the effects feature a lot, mainly putting hearts on stuff. only decorating Ruth really did on her island is make a rainbow flower field which she and the rest of the nerds call the gay flower trail. ruth seems to be eternally broke. Richie offers her money and she accepts and ten minutes later she somehow managed to waste it all on the most useless decor

Richie

-his island is littered with references to animes. he has two godzilla statues outside his house. has definitely gotten much more advancements than the others. wishes he could have started out on a modded island but it's too late. his house is made to be his dream home and his room has custom designs of anime posters on the walls. he completed his museum and probably has most furniture items in his catalog. he also completed happy home designer and has a lot of amiibos. richie redecorated all of his villager's homes, both interior and exterior. richie made a crab rave on his beach. richie also collects gyroids and uses them to decorate. he also likes setting up little songs with them for specific rooms in his house.

richie's island flag is this.

Pete

-somehow the one with the best looking island. it's five stars somehow and each villager gets custom personalized yards. pete is really into flower breeding. he's also trying to complete the museum but keeps forgetting to catch some seasonal creatures and fish. pete NEVER skips blather's fun facts. in fact he writes all of them down and annoys Ruth and Richie with them. he's even memorized some for the more common fish and bugs that especially pissed Richie off when he was collecting everything (like sea basses)

petes house has the highest happy home academy rating

#starkid #hatchetfield #npmd #nerdy prudes must die #hatchetverse #team starkid #stephanie lauter #steph lauter #peter spankoffski #pete spankoffski #ruth fleming #richie lipschitz #grace chasity

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hangmansgbaby · 9 months ago

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Gunpowder & Lead P R O L O G U E

Masterlist

Emory's POV is written by @mamachasesmayhem and Jake's POV is written by me.

Banners are POV changers.

"I can't do this anymore, Matt. I'm leaving." The words leave my mouth with only a slight tremble.

Matt barks out a laugh. "What was that, baby?"

I take a deep breath and steel my nerves. "I'm leaving."

"The fuck you are!"

Matt's statement is punctuated with a fierce blow to my cheek, knocking me sideways.

I thought that his recent lack of interest in me would have made this easier. I thought that maybe he was finally tired of me, that maybe he wouldn't care as much when I tried to leave. Clearly, I was wrong.

A kick lands on my ribs after I land on the floor, followed by a few more. I try to no avail to block them, only earning bruises and likely more fractures to my arms. He grips my hair to pull me up only to slam my head into the floor. My head spins as I feel blood pool beneath me. I'm barely conscious when he finally decides to stop, probably thinking I'm down for the count. I hear him grab hiskeys from their hook by the door but when I catch a glimpse of the hooks I realize it wasn't just his that he took, but mine too. Shit, that makes this more difficult. His stupid ass Camero revs in the driveway and the sound of his tires peeling fills the small house. I fight to stay conscious because I can do this.

I don't know how much time has passed when I pull every ounce of will and strength in my body and finally crawl onto my hands and knees.

I can do this.

It could have been minutes or hours since Matt left, so I don't waste a second.

I can do this.

I stumble out of the door and adrenaline floods my nervous system.

I can do this.

My bare feet carry me across the pavement and then through the woods across from the house. It'll hurt like hell later, but it's much shorter to cut through them to get to Birdie's house. This is a route I've memorized, having to sneak out to see my best friend when Matt eventually stopped allowing it. I can get there with my eyes closed, and it's entirely possible I do.

I eventually break through the tree line and push past the pain that's threatening to overwhelm my body. The light to the back porch is on, drawing me near like a lighthouse to the coast, and I stumble the last few steps to the door. I fall against the cool wood in a heap, frantically pounding my fist against it as darkness clouds my vision. The door opens underneath me and I let it take over, finally able to rest.

It's warm when I come to, a gentle voice rousing me. "Sweets, can you hear me? Shit, Jav! She's breathing and has a pulse but she's not responding to me."

I groan and try to peel my eyes open. That voice definitely does not belong to Birdie. It's not her husband Bob either, and that's what startled me enough to fully return my brain to my body. My eyes land on a face surely carved by Aphrodite herself.

"Am I dead?" I mutter out. With a chiseled jaw and concern swimming in mossy green eyes staring down at me, I must be. Especially if I'm not scrambling to get away from a man that isn't Bob Floyd. But a tiny voice in my head tells me that he's safe and that he won't hurt me, so I let myself listen to it.

A small smile pulls at the lips of the man above me. "No, sweets. You're alive, it looks like you fought real hard to be too. How'd you end up here?"

The realization I didn't make it to Birdie's makes me gasp and try to sit up. "I was trying to get to Birdie's house, where I am?!"

I notice I'm cradled in his lap when his arms tighten around me in an attempt to keep me from jostling the multiple injuries I'm sure I have. "Easy, I got you. Birdie Floyd? She's right next door, you almost made it. Just a hundred feet short."

A voice crackles through his phone, clearly on speaker given that I can hear it so clearly. "I'm about 3 minutes out, Jake. What's going on?"

"She's awake, Javy. I think I can manage until you get here, but I'll keep you on the phone just in case."

He turns to me and I can hear sirens in the background of the call. "I'm Officer Jake Seresin and on the phone is my best friend Javy Machado, he's a paramedic. He's working tonight and I called him the second I opened the door, he and his partner are on the way to come look at ya, ok?" My nod prompts him to continue. "I can go get Bob and Birdie if you want?"

"No!" I yelp. "Please don't leave me alone! H-he might show up..."

"It's ok, pretty girl. I got you, I won't leave you alone. You're safe with me." His voice is calm, soothing. "Even though I'm off duty, I called in some backup. I don't want ya worryin' when you hear the sirens and see the lights here shortly."

His thumb rubs small circles on my upper arm as red and blue fill the night sky.

Jake carries me outside to meet the paramedics and I can hear Birdie from across the yard.

“What’s going on?” Her eyes scan the scene and finally land on me and she immediately runs to me."Emory! Oh, honey! What did he do to you this time?" She starts sobbing as her hand gently traces my swollen cheek. "How'd you find her, Jake?"

"She found me. She knocked on my door thinking it was yours." His chin tips up in acknowledgment when Bob joins his wife. "Hey, Floyd. Javy just rolled up and called in some backup."

No sooner than the words leave his mouth, a tall man with a mocha complexion hops out of the ambulance and rushes over. Jake reluctantly lets me go and nods at me as Javy takes over and lays me on a stretcher. As he's taking inventory of my injuries and rolling me to the ambulance, I hear Jake talking to Bob.

"Where's the fucker that did this to her?"

"If he's not at home, he's at The Den." Bob replies, anger clear in his voice.

Jake climbs up the step into the ambulance, just beside Birdie and reaches out and gently squeezes my hand. "Javy's the best there is, you're in good hands. I'm gonna go get the sad excuse of a man that did this to you and he's gonna go rot in a cell."

Tears well in my eyes as relief washes over me. "Thank you, Jake."

Jake did as he promised, immediately arresting Matt and tossing him in jail. After confirming I did, in fact, end up with new fractures in my arm, a concussion, and severely bruised ribs I returned to work about a week after I may have been sporting a neon pink cast, fading bruises on my face, and stitches in my lip, but I'd never been happier.

The trial officially concluded and Jake was there by my side through the entire thing, volunteering to be my personal protection detail.

6 months later

Jake had walked through the door of Cora's, the bakery Birdie and I have been working at since we were undergraduates at UT Austin. Once the recognition hit me, I gasped. "It's you."

His smile was soft, almost shy, as he blushed. "It's me."

"You saved me, l-I don't have enough words for how thankful I am for you."

Thankfully, he dropped in during a slower time so my rambling isn't holding up other customers.

Jake reaches up and rubs the back of his neck as he looks down. "I'd like to think it's what anyone would do, having sworn an oath to protect and serve and all."

I take the time to finally observe what he's wearing, and he looks damn good in his uniform, before smiling up at him. "Well, take your pick officer. Anything you want is on the house. For as long as I work here."

After that day, he made it a habit to stop in at some point during his shift for coffee and a pastry if he was feeling particularly cheeky. "The coffee's always been free to the boys in blue, I can't take advantage of your kindness all the time, Sweets." He'd told me.

And eventually Jake asked me out. "I know you were in a terrible relationship before, so if this is too forward, stop me. But now that it's not a conflict of interest, how do you feel about dinner with me?"

"Dinner sounds amazing." I'd told him with a wide smile and his quickly matched my own.

From that day forward, we'd been nearly inseparable. With his support, I'd finally caught up with Birdie and finished my MBA. While in school, I met the little spitfire named Adalaide Blake. She had been in her final semester of law school and studying to pass the BAR exam. She quickly became close to Birdie and I and we've been thick as thieves since.

Honoring the promise she made to a couple of 19 year old kids, Cora, the owner of the bakery, turned it over into our capable hands and retired. Cora was the grandma I had always wanted. She took me in when I had nothing and loved Birdie and I as her own. Not long after we took over, Matt was released from prison. Jake had delivered the unfortunate news after plying me with ice cream and tequila a few days before our one year anniversary. He promised to keep me safe and asked me to move in with him. We'd discussed it more the next morning when I was sober and he assured me his reasoning was more than just keeping me safe, he wanted me as part of his every day routine.

Within a few months of my moving in, I helped Jake study for and pass his detective's test. He soon promoted and we celebrated by christening the new home for the bakery. The new location included a large, secure basement with the intention of housing abused women and children. Thanks to Jake, the rest of his squadron at the department, and connections they've made through the years, the changes weren't made public knowledge.

There was a caveat that Jake wasn't aware of: Birdie, Addie, and I had been planning something. While we were absolutely making the new construction a safe haven, we also wanted to find a way to make sure men like Matt didn't ruin any more lives. We realized we could make that happen thanks to the combined knowledge of my studying with Jake for the detective test, Birdie hearing all the stories from Bob about work, and Addie having spent a few years as a defense attorney, we could do it. Birdie had the idea to open a secret speakeasy that would be a way for us to meet with potential women who needed help. The brave souls who sought our help were instructed to ask for a pomegranate scone, which was not sold in the bakery. They were instead provided with a time to meet back here at the speakeasy that we named "The Underworld."

Over the next 2 years, we caught cheaters, helped mothers get sole custody of their children, returned money stolen by swindling slimeballs, and rescued women and children from abusive homes. Along the way, we'd made some new friends and became known as The Furies. The Furies consisted of a team of powerful, badass women who shared the same mindset as us. We also made some new enemies...one of them being the Austin PD. A task force was born to stop the ring of vigilantes, and the most ironic part of it all is that many of the Furies have a personal connection to a member of the task force. For me it was Jake. The man of my dreams and love of my life, had taken on the lead. He had risen through the ranks quickly, finding himself on many cases involving the work of the Furies. With his extensive knowledge, it was a no brainer for the department that he be the commanding officer. Even Birdie’s husband volunteered to be the CSI Specialist for the task force.

Jake and I were almost 4 years into our relationship when my ruse was finally up. I had successfully kept the two facets of my life separate until that fateful night.

We had been running a sting on a local biker gang known for human trafficking, Demeter and I had been at The Den while trying to sneak our way into the back by posing as "entertainment" for the club. Apparently, one of the guys there that night had known Matt and therefore knew who I was. That's when shit hit the fan. While I'd been training extensively with Jake in MMA classes and with our ex-military friend learning to evade capture, one me against five men was no match. I'd learned how to take a hit with minimal damage and that was my saving grace. With my ass thoroughly beaten, I once again found myself stumbling through the dense woods that lead to Bob and Birdie's house. Leaning against the doorframe, my knuckles rap against the wood for her to come usher me inside and help me get patched up.

If my right eye wasn't swollen shut, I might have noticed that the door was a deep blue I'd personally picked out instead of the dark maroon I was expecting. The door opens and I don't even look up before I start talking.

"I'm an idiot, I know. Might need to call someone though, I think one of those fuckers broke my nose," I whine.

"Emory? What the fuck?!" A deep voice bellows from the open door.

I look up and my eyes make contact with very angry looking green ones. "Aw shit, wrong door again."

"What the actual fuck, Em? Get inside." I try to usher her in but she takes a step back.

"No, I'm gonna pretend this didn't happen and walk over to Birdie's." Emory tried to walk away but I reached out and snatched her hand. "Jake what are you -? Ow ow, fine, I'll go, just let go of me."

I let go and she pulled on her hand to get rid of the feeling. I could see the war in her one good eye as she reluctantly followed me inside. I led her into the kitchen, lifting her up onto the island before moving to grab the first aid kit from under the sink. I silently began working on cleaning up the blood on her face before moving down to see if there are other wounds to treat.

"It's just my nose." She mutters and I release the breath I didn't know I was holding as I check on her nose. It wasn't broken thankfully and it didn't look like she was going to have a concussion either so I was able to relax a little.

"Well it doesn't look broken." I sigh as I move to grab an ice pack from the freezer. "Just need some ice and you'll keep your gorgeous face in perfect condition." She gives me an unimpressed glance as I hold out the ice pack to show her how serious I am about fixing her nose. She grabs it and gingerly presses it against the bridge of her nose.

The air around us was thick as we sat in silence. I took the time to really take her in: the way her hair is still messy and her eyes are still slightly swollen, the bridge of her nose was red and she was sure to have bruising around her eyes tomorrow. I could tell by the way she stared at the tiled floor of our kitchen that she was in her mind. She was supposed to be at the bakery all night, and now she's showing up at my door bloody, again. I'm just about to say something when she speaks up.

"So I guess I gotta explain why we're having a deja vu episode."

"That would be nice." I say with a deep sigh. "But I'd rather make sure you are okay."

"I'm fine. I'd like to explain it all now, rather than later." Her voice sounded strained and for someone who was usually so confident, that was saying something. "Okay, shoot."

She takes a deep breath before she starts. "I would like to state that if you never wanna see or speak to me again after you hear all this I completely understand, because it's a lot and you're probably gonna hate me afterwards and—"

"Em, please, stop." I cut her off, unable to deal with any more of her self deprecating rambling. "We're gonna have to get married before you continue so I can claim marital privilege."

"Wait, really?" She drops the ice pack to the counter as her eyes widen at my words. We've only just recently started talking about marriage being an option because I wanted to wait for her to be ready for it. "Seriously? You wanna marry me before I tell you all this?"

"Really, sweets." I smile, reaching out to cup her cheeks. "I love you and nothing could ever make me hate you! Shit, you could be the fucking leader of the Furies and I would still only see my Emory. I even have a ring upstairs."

"No you don't." She chuckles nervously.

"Oh, I do, trust me." I lean towards her and place a small kiss on her lips. They're chapped but warm. She leans forward as well, tilting her head slightly. We pull apart with a soft chuckle.

"So should we get you that ring and then go tell Bob and Birdie?" I smile.

"Yeah. Yeah I think we should." She nods before looking back at me. "You wanna help me clean up?" I laugh as I grab a washcloth to clean up the rest of the blood.

Once she was cleaned up and changed into some new clothes, we made our way across the shared yard to the Floyd household.

"I doubt they're even still up." Emory mutters as I knock on the door. "I mean seriously, it's 4 am. They wouldn't still be up, would they?"

"Not that I can tell." I frown and look back toward Em. "Let's see." We both peer inside the house through a window and we both see that the lights are still on, albeit dimly. Suddenly, the door opens to reveal Bob, his eyes already tired and his glasses fogged up from sleep. His hair was rumpled as if he had been running his hands through as his vision focused on us.

"Hey, what are you guys doing here so late?"

"We need to talk to you guys." I answer as Emory nods.

"About what?" The tone in his voice indicates that he isn't buying into anything. He's definitely suspicious of us.

"Nothing important." I lie and Emory quickly steps in.

"But you should go get Birdie."

"If it's enough for the both of you to interrupt mine and Birdie's sleep schedules, then it is important." Bob sighs, "Come on in." He gestures us in before locking the door and heading towards his bedroom where Birdie was surely sound asleep.

It's a few minutes before we hear the tell tale signs of Emory's best friend running down the hallway.

"Em! Are you okay?" The brunette girl drops beside her friend, checking her over for injuries. "Should I call…?"

"I'm fine Bird, everything is okay now." Em assures her and I could see Birdie's shoulders visibly relax before she reaches for a pillow.

"Then where the hell have you been?!" The brunette exclaims as she pulls away from her friend, hitting her with the decorative pillow. "I thought you were dead! There was always a chance you were in deep but what the hell?!"

"I'll explain everything later, but we need you to do something for us first." Emory smiles softly, pulling the pillow from Birdie's hands. Both Birdie and Bob look at us confused as I move to the seat next to Em.

"We're getting married tomorrow." I say.

"Oh." Bob answers shocked.

"Oh? Oh my god! Finally!" Birdie jumps up cheering. "Wait! Why tomorrow?"

"I might've fucked up on which door I knocked on again." Emory giggles. I laugh with her, Birdie just stares blankly at us before she speaks.

"So you're gonna...?"

"After the wedding, he wants marital privilege." Em answers.

"Oh well then by all means Mr. Seresin, dive in head first!" Birdie replies, laughing. "Break her heart after this, they won't find your body."

"I'm gonna kill you someday Birdie." Emory mumbles.

"No you won't." Birdie blows her a kiss. "Now you get the guest room." She says, pulling Emory from the couch and pushing her down the hall. "And you get to go home and sleep alone!" She says, looking at me.

"But..."

"It's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding. Now get out of my house." Birdie ushers me towards the door.

"Ya know we could've done it in secret." I tell her.

"Then you'd be dead. Night Jake!" She smiles before closing her front door and locking it.

With that I turned, headed towards home. I felt slightly lightheaded and giddy; I couldn't believe it actually happened. I didn't feel scared or worried, but I guess I should have. I knew I loved Emory and nothing could change that, why would she even think that anything would? As I thought about these things walking through my front door, I glanced at the clock, noting the brightly shining 4:36 am. The courthouse opens at 8, sleeping now would only make us late so I walked to the living room and threw on the morning news.

Our wedding, although a simple one at the courthouse with only Bob and Birdie present was perfect. I never needed the fancy suit, the white gown, and the big wedding to prove that I loved her. Seeing her stand before me with the ring I've been holding onto for a year was more than enough. Bob and Birdie treated us to breakfast before heading back to their house. And then Emory tells me everything. And I mean everything.

I sit in shock on the loveseat as Em paces across the living room from me. Birdie's in the kitchen making drinks and Bob speaks up from his seat on the other couch.

"Well thank fuck someone else knows." He sighs, relaxing into his chair.

"I'm sorry, WHAT?!" I shouted, turning to who I thought was my best friend. "You knew they were doing this?"

"Why else do you think there was never any definite trail linking them to any of the crimes? I've been busting my ass around the clock out here!" Bob defends. "Nat and I can't take it anymore!" Bob immediately slaps a hand over his mouth. My eyes widen, if possible, more than they already were.

"Nat knows?!"

"BOB!" Both Emory and Birdie shout.

"Am I the only one who didn't know?" I question, my eyes trailing between the girls.

"Uhhh, Jake. Let's talk more tomorrow after we've consummated our marriage and can't have it annulled." Em chuckles softly and I already know the answer. Everyone, everyone knew before me.

"Did everyone know before me?"

"At least Cyclone doesn't know. Especially about—" Bob is cut off again by his wife who's abandoned the drinks.

"Robert!"

"The dam is broken, Birdie. There's no turning back now!"

"I knew we should've let Psyche make him sign the NDA." Emory sighs, groaning as she drops into a seat.

"Well I figured he feared his wife more." Birdie shrugs.

"And I do!" Bob jumps up, trying to defend himself. "I don't fear jail because I know what you bunch are capable of."

"Robert Floyd! Did you only marry me cause you thought I'd kill you?!" Birdie shouts, turning to glare at her husband.

"No! I love you! I do!" Bob panics, trying to dig out of the hole he got himself in. "But I definitely don't wanna be on the receiving end of one of Em's special recipes."

"BOB!!!" Em, Birdie, and hell even I shouted at him, knowing that was definitely something he was not supposed to tell me.

"I'm gonna go shower now." Bob mutters, walking towards the master bedroom.

"I swear I'm gonna—"

"Let us leave before you go all Hera on his ass." Em laughs as she pulls me to the front door. I'm still processing everything she told me as we enter our home.

My girlfriend—my wife— is THE Persephone, the leader of the Furies. The woman who has been avoiding capture at my hand for years now. The love of my life is who I've been chasing this entire time. Holy shit.

"You okay over there?" Her voice drags me from my thoughts. I look up to see her staring at me expectantly.

"I'm okay, I think?"

"Are you asking me if you are okay?" She laughs, stepping up to me. Her hazel eyes still sparkle the way they always have, but especially since she now has the diamond ring I got paired with her now. This is still my Emory, not the known vigilante that I've been hunting for years.

"No. I'm okay." I smile at her.

"So... the handcuffs are still for in the bedroom and not for arresting me right?" She asks, smiling as she slowly pulls me towards our room. It's only then that I realize how painfully hard I am.

"Please stop talking. My dick is hard and I'm so confused as to why." Emory laughs at my statement, stopping in her tracks as she snorts, doubling over from her laughter. "This isn't funny Em! I'm conflicted!"

As she calms down she looks up at me with lust filled eyes. "At least you know that I don't entirely hate you for all the times you shot at me." She shrugs casually and walks into the room leaving me standing there in shock, her hips swaying a little more.

Then it hits me. Some of the nights that we had the greatest sex— it was right after I had a shootout with the Furies. She would jump me the minute we were both home and my god—

"Don't you dare start without me, sweets!"

Taglist: (tagging those who might interested, join the taglist to keep being tagged or to be tagged next time) @mamachasesmayhem @eternalsams @sarahsmi13s @hookslove1592 @sailor-aviator @callsign-magnolia @goldenseresinretriever @callsigns-haze @some-lovely-day @buckysteveloki-me @bradleybeachbabe @lovinglyeternal @footprintsinthesxnd @ohtobeaspettyasleah @untoldshortsofthefandoms

Mama may's Everything tags: @aviatorobsessed @callsigncurse @teacupsandtopgun @trickphotography2 @thedroneranger @sweetwhispersofchaos @capoteera @hardballoonlove @buckysdollforlife @kmc1989 @seresinhangmanjake @shanimallina87 @dizzybee03 @hisredheadedgoddess28 @lynnevanss @jynxmirage @na-ta-sh-aa @whatislovevavy @dingochef @dempy @dckweed @just-in-case-iloveyou @tgmreader @djs8891 @marvelousnightjengale @soulmates8 @sorchathered

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jujumin-translates · 5 months ago

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★ Main Story | Act 13 - Budding Spring | Chapter 28 - Welcome Home

Itaru: (This is bad. I can’t get a taxi at all. And the line’s not letting up either… Got one shot at this left. Hopefully there’s a car rental place somewhere near he--.)

Sakuya: Itaru-san! Welcome home!

Itaru: --.

Masumi: You’re late.

Citron: We have come to pick you up~!

Chikage: Good work.

Tsuzuru: Your flight being delayed was some astronomically bad luck.

Itaru: Huh? What? What are you doing here? What about the play? No, you guys can’t all be here!

Sakuya: We were so worried that we couldn’t help it, so we might be trying for a bit of an impossible wish here.

Chikage: We decided to run through our lines in the car so as to not waste time.

Masumi: Director was supposed to be the first one I drove around…

Tsuzuru: You were a really safe driver, Masumi, just like we thought you’d be, so don’t worry about it.

Itaru: No way, you guys came to pick me up… Isn’t this like an insanely risky move?

Chikage: All’s well that ends well.

Tsuzuru: You weren’t able to catch a cab, right?

Itaru: Well, you guys doing this is definitely a huge help.

Itaru: Wait, why do your faces look darker than normal…? What did you guys eat?

Tsuzuru: Your face won’t get darker just from eating something! It’s just makeup!

Masumi: We were trying to save time.

Itaru: Gotcha.

Citron: Itaru, this is not the time to be the funny man!

Itaru: Says you…

Chikage: Well, if you’re up to doing that, then there’s no need for us to be worried.

Sakuya: Alright, let’s hurry! Everyone’s waiting for us!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Manager: Thank you very much for coming to see MANKAI Company’s Spring Troupe’s performance “Romeo and Julius ~Rosso e Blu~” today.

Manager: Please remain patient until the start of the show.

Towa: …

Audience Member A: I wonder what’s going to happen in the sequel.

Audience Member B: Do you think everyone’s got the same roles they had in the first one?

Audience Member A: MANKAI Company’s first sequel, I’m both really excited for it and dreading it…

Audience Member B: I know, right!? I saw RomiJuli back when it first ran, too, and I’m like the biggest Romeo oshi ever…

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

momo has entered the chat.

shiki: Oh? I thought you were going to go see the performance on opening day today.

Iv: smth with all the fuss you were making abt the ticket gods?

momo: Had to come take refuge here because I was literally about to explode from how badly I wanted to join the conversation of the person sitting next to me

Kar: That sure is a reason lmao

Iv: ur being real sus

momo: I was really surprised when they announced they were doing a sequel for RomiJuli, but I totally get what they’re saying about having mixed feelings of both anticipation and anxiety, and to be honest I’m really looking at it with that much excitement too

momo: I can’t stop thinking about what the sequel to my favorite play ever is gonna be like, like I think I’d literally die of shock if they change my oshi’s role

Iv: i ain’t reading all that, happy for u tho, or sorry that happened

momo: Also since I got to see what goes on behind the scenes at the workshop, actually coming to the theater now makes it seem even brighter when it’s got all performance stuff up and running

momo: I can like actually sense just how many people are working behind the scenes and now I’m already filled with a lot of feelings before the show’s even started, I wonder if my heart is gonna m

Kar: momo’s been stabilized

shiki: I’m guessing it just started? Have fun!

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Towa: Phew…

Towa: (I feel a little calmer.)

Audience Member A: It’s almost time for the show to start, but it still hasn’t started yet?

Audience Member B: It feels like they must be rushing to get ready. I wonder if something happened.

Towa: (Huh, trouble? I wonder if everything’s okay??)

Audience Member A: That reminds me of the time when Autumn Troupe was rushing to get ready in time so Summer Troupe gave a super long pre-show introduction to stall for time.

Audience Member B: Oh yeah, I watched the stream of that performance!

Audience Member A: I wonder if they’re all working super hard behind the scenes right now.

Audience Member B: I’m wishing them the best of luck.

Towa: (Good luck to all of Spring Troupe and the staff members too…!)

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

*Door slams open*

Sakuya: Sorry for making you wait! We’re here!

Izumi: Thank goodness! Welcome home!

Yuki: You’re late!

Azami: You’re late.

Itaru: There’s the third strike…

Azami: Just hurry up and sit down so I can do your makeup.

Tsumugi: I’m glad you made it just in the nick of time.

Itaru: No, this time it was really thanks to everyone else’s help. This never would’ve happened without them…

Izumi: But you still made it, right?

Itaru: True. But I’ve still got that high I got from meeting an overseas fan running through me.

Itaru: I feel like we could still set out on a journey across the world. Now all I’ve gotta do is just not worry and put that energy into Spring Troupe’s performance.

Izumi: I can’t wait.

Itaru: Ah, well, don’t expect too much from me, I’ve still got jet lag and fatigue nerfing my stamina. I’m relying on you guys for support.

Tsuzuru: But there wasn’t even that much of a time difference?

Citron: It is better than him trying to hide it and then freezing up on stage, at least~!

Masumi: I feel like something like that happened during our debut performance.

Itaru: Perhaps.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

Manager: The show will be beginning shortly!

Itaru: Okay, okay.

Chikage: We managed to make it just in time.

Tsuzuru: Yet another time we were all rushing to be ready.

Sakuya: I feel like we’re all back on this stage with new feelings after we all took on different challenges in preparation for the new Fleur Award.

Sakuya: The first time I stood on stage was one of them, but I’m sure there will be a lot more “firsts” in the future.

Sakuya: I can remember the feelings from back then over and over again. The trembling courage to dive into a new world--.

Sakuya: Let’s always take on our “firsts” with positivity and all have fun together as Spring Troupe!

Citron: Yes!

Tsuzuru: Let’s do it.

Chikage: Right.

Itaru: I’m ready whenever you are.

Masumi: Let’s go, Romeo.

Sakuya: Yeah! Onwards, to our journey!

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

#a3!#a3! translation #sakuya sakuma #masumi usui #tsuzuru minagi #itaru chigasaki #citron #chikage utsuki

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countlessrealities · 4 months ago

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@mcltiples sent:

The portal opened up in the apartment. It's in the middle of the night. Definitely not the hour that someone should be visiting, yet, Morty can't help himself. He's drunk. A bottle of Scotch nearly emptied in his hand, swinging as he walked, legs wobbled.

He doesn't care what state that he finds his counterpart in. All he cared about were the words he rehearsed in his head. What he needed to say. That he drank to give him the courage to do so.

"M-Morty," He's too drunk to notice his own stutter. It's not something he's willing to control right now either. "I-I'm sorry, I realize the error of my ways. I've been an asshole to you. Th-This whole time, I've been trying to protect my feelings, to make you fall for me as I-I have with you. A-And it backfired, I-I've been an idiot,"

He stepped closer. "A-All I wanted was you, y-you're all I've ever wanted in someone a-and I fucked it up, I-I fucked everything up big time,"

Suddenly his legs gave out, ending up on his knees. That's when the tears came, flooding down his face. His lips quivered. "I-If you don't like me, just tell me, I-I'll understand. I-I'll get over it. I-I just need to know,"

Sobbing uncontrollably was something he hadn't done in a while. And now that it was happening, he couldn't stop it. "I-I just love you so much and I would do anything for you, but I-I can't seem to show you. I-It's hard. A-And I'm so tired of these games, I-I can't do it anymore. I-I don't want to be playing these games with you. I-I just want to love you....."

{ To your E-Morty from my E-Morty // i'm so sorry about this fdshjfkds }

The sound of a portal opening caught Morty off guard. The noise was as familiar as his own breathing by now, but he hadn't been expecting any guests that night. He had even dismissed his second-in-command, because he had wanted to be truly alone. There was so much ongoing inside him. So many thoughts, so many feelings. He had no idea of how to deal with them, but he refused to ask for help.

Not that he had anyone he could turn to. One of the only two people he trusted enough to show his vulnerable side to wouldn't have been able to give him advice. As for the other one, he was the very cause of his current inner turmoil.

Useless to say, finding himself faced with that one person caught him off guard, even if he wasn't as surprised as one might have thought. Deep down, he knew that this would happen. One of them would have given in, at some point. The tension and the distance between them had gotten just too much.

Still, he was glad that it hadn't been him, because crawling back to his other self, when the latter had been the one to hurt him, would have been admitting defeat. And that was a weakness he couldn't afford.

He remained quiet as his counterpart spoke, head tilted on one side and expression unreadable. Underneath the blank mask he was wearing, however, he was nowhere near as unaffected as he looked. The glass in his hand and the mostly empty bottle of Scotch on the coffee table betrayed the truth.

He managed not to react, not to how his other self was acting nor to his words, until his counterpart fell on his knees in front of him. He was crying, begging for forgiveness, professing his undying love to him with no shame.

Vulnerable. Weak. Pathetic.

And yet Morty's heart ached for him as it had never done for anyone before.

Taking in a slow, deep breath, he downed the remaining contents of his glass in one go, setting it down next to the bottle. His head was swimming, and it was hard to tell why. Was it the alcohol in his system? Or the emotions that were filling his chest, painfully constricting it? Probably both.

Gritting his teeth, he knelt down in turn, putting himself at the other's level. He hesitated just a second before reaching out, taking that face between his palms to coax his counterpart to glance up.

"Morty. Look at me," he said, half way between a request and an order. He didn't want to be too harsh, but he also refused to waste time on simple requests.

Patiently, he waited for his words to be followed before continuing.

"Yes, you hurt me. Even worse, you made me feel like all the efforts I've made for you, all the things I've confessed to you only, all the exceptions to my rules I've made for you...You made me feel like it all meant nothing to you."

Such a bitter feeling, having allowed himself to finally open up to someone, just to find himself set aside and devalued.

"You've been a fool. You've angered me, humiliated me, and being unable to show to me how much you actually care for me. We both played games, we both pulled that rope, but I made sure to never go too far. You, on the other hand, never seemed to want to return that favour."

He didn't try to hide the hint of resentment in his voice. And why should he? His other self obviously knew that he had fucked up, he was admitting that much. He deserved to stick his fingers in the bleeding wound. It was payback, an eye for and eye.

"I should be done with you. And, if you were anyone else, I would have locked you away and kept you as a tool to relieve my stress." A nameless living being he could torture whenever he felt like. "You don't realise how lucky you are."

Afte that, his expression softened, even if just imperceptibly. The next words were the trickiest, because they meant that he would be offering his unguarded heart one more time. One last time, one last chance.

"But I can't do that, not to you. Because I...I want you with me. I'm tired of all those games too. I'm bored with them, I'm fed up with them." Especially since they had been bringing him more pain than entertainment lately. "I want honesty, I was a sign that I can let you in. And you finally gave me one tonight."

He swallowed, shifting closer, eyes falling on those wet lips for the briefest moment.

"I'm not forgiving you...yet. But I refuse to let you go, Morty. Because, against my better judgement, I...I love you too."

He didn't wait for an answer, he couldn't bear to hear one right now. So, instead, he pressed forward, sealing their mouths together. A kiss full of longing, frustration, hurt, need, love. He wanted nothing more than to consume his counterpart, to make them one, so they could never be apart, never betray each other again.

If only...

He didn't break away until his lungs forced him, burning for the lack of oxygen, and when he did he made sure that their gazes could meet, amber orbs looking slightly unfocused.

"...Stay with me tonight. Tomorrow, we'll figure this out. For now, I'll let you love me. And I'll put your pieces back together."

#[ ic :: Evil Morty ]#&& Evil Morty || mcltiples #[ ᴵ ᴸᴵᴷᴱ ᵀᴴᴱ ᴹᴱ ᵂᴵᵀᴴ ʸᴼᵁ ˢᴼ ᴵᴸᴸ ᴷᴱᴱᴾ ᵁˢ ᶜᴴᴬᴵᴺᴱᴰ ᵀᴼᴳᴱᵀᴴᴱᴿ ᶠᴼᴿᴱⱽᴱᴿᴹᴼᴿᴱ :: ᴍᴏʀᴛɪᴍᴇʀ & ᴍᴏʀᴛɪᴍᴇʀ ]#[ v. Rick Double Morty and Trouble ; timeline split :: Evil Morty ]#mcltiples #[[ well damn I guess it is The Day™️ ]]#[[ this is one conversation they have been avoiding for too long ]]#[[ but also the convo that wouldn't have happened until one of them BROKE ]]#[[ makes sense your E-Morty did first ]]#[[ but mine wasn't doing too great either ]]#[[ so well drunk heart-to-heart I guess? xD ]]#[[ they are so easy to judge Ricks but let's be honest ]]#[[ right there? they're just as bad as them ]]#;; queue

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mwrecycles · 2 months ago

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Reliable Scrap Metal Dealers in Singapore - Find the Best Deals

Finding a trustworthy scrap metal dealer in Singapore is essential for both individuals and businesses looking to sell or trade scrap metal. With numerous options available, it's important to know where to find reliable dealers who offer competitive deals and professional service.

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Summary:

At MW Recycling Acquiring the greatest prices and guaranteeing a hassle-free experience require collaborating with reputable scrap metal merchants located in Singapore. Whether you’re in Joo Koon or elsewhere, working with experienced dealers who understand the market can help you maximize the value of your scrap metal. Trust in reputable dealers to provide competitive prices and professional service, making your scrap metal transactions both profitable and efficient.

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mrs-santoss · 2 years ago

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Love at First Sight - Neymar Imagine - Chapter Seven

Summary:

Y/N is scared to fall in love. She fell once, and it was a nightmare. She can't risk it again. But, this lucky boy manages to steal her heart, but unfortunately, manages to break it at the same time. What will Y/Ns decisions be?

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6

I burst into tears. I kept crying, screaming, hitting the steering wheel with my hands. Why does this have to happen to me? What have I done wrong? Why do people get so close to me and then FUCKING LEAVE?

I was in physical pain. I don't know if you've heard about Broken Heart Syndrome. It's a condition that's brought on by a physically or emotionally traumatic event, such as the loss of a loved one, divorce, car accidents, bad fights or near-drowning experiences. Broken Heart Syndrome is often a temporary condition. But some people may continue to feel unwell after the heart is healed. I remember my state during my last heartbreak. I was a fucking mess. I'm trying so hard to avoid that. I'm saying this because I just remembered I had two bottles of vodka on the backseat of my car. I had bought those bottles for a fun night with the guys. I was hoping to do that this weekend and get closer with Neymar. What a stupid idiot I was. I was fighting myself from chugging a bottle. I'm driving. I can't do this. I can just sleep here. No, I can't. Yes, I can. No, I can't. Too late. I was parked by the road, looking at a view of mountains just outside of the city. I had some melancholic music on and I had drank one bottle and a half. I was wasted. Singing at the top of my lungs, with my feet on top of the steering wheel, fucking wasted. A phone call stopped my music. I couldn't read the caller ID. I answered the call. "Whyy wou-would- yu-you to do that?!!" "What? Y/N, are you okay?" "Ky?" "Y/N, are you drunk?" "NOOOO, why wouldd yu-you stop my-my-music?" "Oh, god. Where are you? Are you alone? "Alonee? Pff, noo. I'm he-ree with *hiccup* mrs.sadness, mrs. dissssapointment, *hiccup* andd mrs. pain, say hii to Kylian everyonee!!" "Y/N? Where the fuck are you? Why am I hearing cars driving by? ARE YOU DRIVING?" "Wha-no!! I'm having a nighttt ou- with my bestiess." A car honks outside, probably at someone else but my drunk self took it as an insult. I could hear Kylian yelling something I couldn't make out what it was. "HEYYY!! Don't fuck-fucking make me race you, YOU HEAR ME?" "NOO, NOO, NOOO. Y/N, YOU STAY RIGHT THERE" "WHY ARE YOU YELLING AT ME?" I started crying, Kylian paused for a moment and took a deep breath. "Y/N- sweetheart, I'm not yelling. I'm just worried, okay?" "O...kay" "Can you tell me where you are? Where is Neymar? Why aren't you with him?" "Whyy *hiccup* wou-would you mention him?" i was talking in a low voice now, probably because I had run out of energy. "Y/N, I'm going to hang up for one second, okay? I will call you right back? Are you parked?" "Yes" "Good, stay right there. Do you promise you won't move the car?" "I promise" "Good! I will call you in a second, I will just make another quick phone call,okay?"

"Okay, Ky. Bye!" I hung up on him. I stood there in silence. I couldn't stop myself from acting like this. The study shows alcohol dulls the brain signal that warns people they are making a mistake, and, I was completely, entirely drunk. I stayed in silence for another minute, I had completely forgotten about the promise I had given Kylian about staying parked. I had this dumb idea about touching a star that was on top of the mountain, so I wanted to "reach" it. I was driving fast. It felt like flying. It felt good. While I was driving I had the urge to throw up. I stopped my car at a rest area on the highway, grabbed a bag from the backseat and threq up on it. I threw up everything. My head was spinning. I put the bag at the bottom of the passenger seat, rested my head on the car seat and closed my eyes. I could hear my phone ringing but I didn't have the energy to pick it up. Darkness took over me. I felt tired. I THANKFULLY, clicked on the button to close all doors, and fell asleep. _____________________________ Sun was shinning directly into my face. I was extremely hot, I was sweating. My ears were ringing and my head was killing me. I opened my eyes and I realized I'm in the middle of fucking nowhere. I couldn't remember anything form last night except for drinking and driving. I know I had a conversation with Kylian, but I couldn't remember what It was. I turn on the AC and pick up my phone. My phone had went crazy. I had 23 missed calls from Kylian, 35 from Neymar and 10 phone calls from Sarah. I couldn't even go through the messages. There were a lot of them, especially from the guys. Some of Kylian's text said "Y/N pick up your phone", "Are you still parked?", " Y/N why arent you answering?" " I'm fucking going crazy Y/N pick up your phone NOW". I was surprised to see Neymar's text. How did he know about this? Did Kylian talk to him? Some of Ney's text said " Y/N, can you pick up please" , " Y/N don't do this" "Y/N can you at least speak to Kylian" "CAN YOU JUST TEXT ME THAT YOU'RE OKAY PLEASE" "Y/N I'm going crazy, pleasee". Sarah's text were also the same. Oh, my god. What have I done? Why am I like this? How did I manage to do this? I decided to call Kylian. I don't even know how he's going to react. He picked up on the first ring.

"Y/N WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?" "Ky?" "ARE YOU OKAY?" "Yes, I'm okay, I passed out right after our phone call. I didn't hear anything after that." "Where are you? Why were you drunk? Why were you FUCKING driving?" "Ky, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for worrying you. I don't know why, when, how. I'm a mess. I'm a fucking mess!" I couldn't hold back my tears, I started crying. "Y/N, calm down, please. Send me your location. I'll come to you." "No, you can't, Ky. I'm five or six hours away from home by now. I'm at a rest stop on the middle of fucking nowhere." "What? Whyy are you five hours away? Why didn't you come to me after Neymar?" "How...How do you know about that?" "I spoke to him last night. I ended the call with you to ask him if he knows where you are and you didn't answer my phone after that. We were so fucking worried." "I'm sorry" I was extremely sorry and embarrassed. I didn't even know what to say to him, he was being an amazing friend to me and I'm over here taking advantage of that. "No, it's okay, Y/N. Just please, don't ever do this again. Also, I know you're not talking to him anymore, but you need to call Neymar and let him know you're okay. The guy went crazy last night, he was about to drive the whole country to find you." "Can you tell him that...let him know I'm okay? I can't talk to him after this, I don't know what to say. I feel weak and ashamed of what I've done." "Trust me, he doesn't think that about you. Just let him know you're okay, that's it." "Okay, Ky. Thank you so much I'm so sorry." "Y/N, I'm just fucking glad you're okay, that's all that matters, all right? Are you going to drive home?" "Yes, probably. I can't think of any other option." "Please, just rest before you start driving. Make sure you're okay." "Yes, I'm feeling better now. I'll stop at the next restaurant or whatever, to get something to eat and rest" "Okay. Text me about everything, let me know your location from time to time." Okay, Ky. Thank you for being there for me." "Always, Y/N."

I hang up the phone with Kylian and just stay in silence. I'm contemplating whether I should call Neymar or not. I mean, the guy deserves to know I'm okay, but on the other hand, he broke up with me, he doesn't have to know anything about me anymore. I decide to listen to the side of me that still cares about him and call him. I dial his phone number by memory, and wait. He answers the phone quickly. "Y/N, ARE YOU OKAY? WHERE ARE YOU? AMOR? ARE YOU HURT?" "Hey, Neymar. I'm okay." "Oh, my god. Oh, thank god. Please don't do this to me ever again, please, please, please. Where are you?" "Neymar, I'm okay, I'm fine. I'm headed home right now, I just wanted to let you know I'm okay since Kylian told me you were worried about me." "You spoke to Kylian? Before me?" "Neymar.. You're both the same to me, now. We don't have that kind of relationship anymore."

“Y/N? Why did you do that? Why were you driving drunk?” “Neymar, I don’t want to talk about this, please. I’m okay, all right?” He didn’t respond anything. I guess, he was waiting for me to say something more. What else am I going to say to him, my ex boyfriend who I’m still enough in love with to fucking kill myself driving while drunk because of him? I’m tired to even think about an answer right now. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow, okay? Take care!” “You….you too, Y/N. Bye!” _______________________________

I throw myself on the bed. I was extremely tired from the long drive and the hangover. I text Kylian letting him know I'm home. I hoped on the shower to relax myself. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't, all my tears were dry. I was functioning like a robot. I'm in the first stage of heartbreak which is being in denial. I don't want to accept this. It's really hard to go from good morning and good night texts to a dry phone, or going from a warm body to cuddle with at night to a cold pillow. I slept the rest of the day until the next day. I woke up to get ready for work. This will be the first time I will be seeing Neymar since our break up. I miss his face. I miss him. I miss our stare. I fucking miss our stare. __________________________________ I park my car and head inside and go straight to my office. I collect all my things before heading into the field. As soon as I step outside, I feel eyes on me. "Hi, Y/N!"

#neymar masterlist #neymar #neymar x reader #fanfiction #neymar imagines #neymar imagine #neymar jr x reader #neymar jr fanfiction #neymar jr imagines #neymar jr imagine #neymar jr #mbappe x reader #mbappe imagine #masterlist #football masterlist #football imagine #football imagines #imagines #imagine

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cheeriecherrymain · 2 years ago

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Incorrigible Flirts And Besweatered Men [Chapter 13]

Pairing: TA!Viktor x fem!Reader Chapter Rating: E (18+) Warnings: This chapter is Explicit. Minors, do not interact. If you read this, you are doing so at your own discretion and risk. Also the parts and pronouns used for the reader are that of a cis woman. Again, read at your own discretion. Proofread: Still no lol Chapter Summary: The wedding ends, and you and Viktor head back to the hotel for the night. Also he gives you not one, but two mind-blowing orgasms.

By the end of the wedding, the elderly friends you’d made earlier in the day had departed. They hadn’t intended to stay very long, as they’d wanted to get home before it got too dark, but it had been pleasant getting to know them.

Now, only you and Viktor remain.

Most of the other guests range from tipsy, to absolutely hammered; the two of you are closer to the former, while the bride and groom are much closer to the latter.

It’s fun, watching everyone have a good time.

Though you’ve a sneaking suspicion that Viktor is a little more intoxicated than he lets on.

The two of you had switched over to water about forty minutes prior, not wanting to surpass your limits and end up with your faces in a toilet bowl. That, and you wanted to be sober for the potential activities to still come.

But he was still sporting a rather lovely pink flush across his cheeks, out to the tips of his ears.

“You know,” you say, your speech slowed ever so slightly, “You’re really pretty.”

Viktor tilts his head towards you and smiles, lazy and lopsided. “You have told me this fact several times now, yes.”

“Well, it should be said again,” you pout. “You’re pretty.”

An idea pops into your head then, and you mischievously loop your arm through his so you can comfortably lean against his side. “You’re pretty, Viktor,” you say, much quieter than before, “Especially in a suit. I’ve been wanting to take it off of you all night.”

If the blush on his face darkens, you don’t notice.

“I think that you’ve had a lot to drink,” he replies, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“I’ve been sipping water for the past forty minutes,” you retort, “I’m nowhere near drunk. Just bold.”

You expect him to rebuff you, still, even if it’s in his own gentle way.

So you’re unable to contain the look of shock when he lowers his voice and replies, “If we are airing out our thoughts, then you should know; I was not lying earlier, when I said I wanted to skip the wedding.”

You frown.

He continues, “When I was zipping up your dress, you looked so delectable. If you had agreed, I would not have wasted a single second laying you out on the bed.”

You barely manage to stop a whine from escaping past your lips, though Viktor is able to catch the way you shift in your seat, pressing your legs together in an attempt to fight off the gathering desire.

“Even now,” he utters, “you look divine. Were my leg not so fussy today, I would probably have stolen you away to some hidden corner by now, and dropped to my knees to feast on you.”

“Viktor,” you squeak.

He smirks against your ear.

“Yes, zlatíčko?”

—

It doesn’t take the two of you very long to head back to the hotel after that. You polish off your bottle of water, and wander around to say goodbye to the people you care about - kissing your incredibly drunk cousin on the cheek, and giving her a warm hug with well-wishes. Your parents are nowhere to be seen, but you don’t much care about them - they’d hadn’t bothered you since you’d spoken out against them at dinner.

The entire way back to your room, you’re vibrating with energy. Nervously chatting Viktor’s ear off about any topic that crosses your mind, while he listens to you with a bemused little smile; from hailing a taxi, all the way to swiping your room key in the door.

It’s only once you’re in the room that you’re able to quiet down, matching the blessedly quiet atmosphere. It’s as if you’re finally able to take a breath again, now in the privacy of your own space, with your own person.

“Are you alright?” Viktor asks, taking a seat to unlace his shoes.

You follow in suit, quirking your brow at him. “Yeah?” you reply, “Why wouldn’t I be?”

He finishes with his laces, and kicks his fancy footwear off, nudging them out of the way. “No reason,” he says. “You just got very quiet all of a sudden, is all.”

Ah.

As he usually seemed to do, he was always more aware of how you were feeling than he let on. You should have expected it by now, in all honesty, but still his attention to your details never ceased to surprise you.

“I think I’m more nervous than I thought I was,” you admit, fidgeting with the straps on your sandals.

His hand sneaking over yours brings you out of your thoughts for a moment.

“You’re allowed to change your mind about this,” he reminds you, his thumb stroking over your knuckle. “If you’re not ready, then you’re not ready.”

Relief floods through your system, though he’d already previously uttered the words to you.

“It’s not that I don’t feel ready,” you promise him. “I want you. I trust you. And I want to take this step with you. I guess I just…” you trail off for a moment, chewing the inside of your cheek. “I’m afraid I’m gonna be bad at it. You know how I am with feeling like I need to be perfect! And I want you to have a good time, but I’m scared I won’t- I dunno. That’s I won’t be good enough for you.”

His gaze visibly softens upon hearing your confession. Pushing himself up off the chair he was seated on, he holds his hand out for you to take, pulling you up with him when your fingers slide into his.

“Might I let you in on a secret, zlatíčko moje?” he asks, and continues when you nod, “I worry that I won’t last long enough to please you.”

“But-”

He cuts you off with a quick kiss.

“You wind me up so much - ever since we met. Your smile, your voice, your humor, your mind. And now, being so close?” he takes your face in his hands, holding you as if you’re the most priceless presence in his life. “The way you smell. The way your lips taste. The way you feel in my hands. You’re more than enough, just the way you are.”

The sincerity in his tone is almost enough to bring you to tears, his words encircling your heart and calming your nerves. You feel so wholly accepted around him - you always have, but now, as he speaks so fondly of you, you feel it stronger than ever.

“Thank you,” you whisper, and for a moment you lose yourselves in a kiss. Chaste and heartfelt, but no less distracting.

—

You head into the bathroom to clean yourself up after that, leaving Viktor in the bedroom to change into something more comfortable. You bring the saucy little nightgown with you, hiding a smirk when you see the way his eyes widen at it.

It doesn’t take you very long to wash the day off: slinking out of your dress and laying it over the edge of the bathtub, then carefully undoing your hair and washing your makeup off. You feel significantly more relaxed after you make yourself more comfortable, and it’s as though you’re finally able to take a breath.

You made it through the day. You stood up to your parents. You danced with your boyfriend, and made friends with a bunch of old women.

You’re content.

When you wander out into the bedroom, the main light is off. Instead, a lamp beside the bed casts warm tones around the room, providing ample reading light for Viktor, who reclines casually on the bed with a book. In only a pair of pajama bottoms, he looks divine - the pale expanse of his chest looks soft and kissable, and more than anything, you can’t wait to leave little marks across his skin.

He doesn’t let you linger in the doorway for long, though. As soon as he notices you standing there, he folds a dag-ear into his novel and haphazardly tosses it aside, gesturing you over.

“Better?” he asks, as you stride over.

“Much,” you reply.

He fully expects you to climb into bed beside him and curl around him, as you’d done the night prior. You, however, have other ideas: you throw your leg over his hips and easily make a spot for yourself atop him, smiling down at him with a cheeky little grin.

His eyes light up when he realizes what you’re doing, and half a second later, your lips meet.

His hands immediately find purchase on your thighs, slowly skimming upwards, further and further, until he comes to a stop at your hips. He kneads his thumbs into the soft fat of your sides, and he pulls his mouth from yours when his fingers dip beneath the hem of your nightie.

“No underwear?” he teases.

You shrug, playfully rolling your eyes. “I thought it would be redundant, since they’d be coming off anyways.”

You share a soft laugh with each other, until you’re cut off with a gasp when he suddenly knocks you off kilter. You tumble sideways, and he uses the momentum to follow you, successfully rolling you onto your back.

He doesn’t leave you much time to be shocked, drawing you into another kiss the moment you’re balanced again. Deeper and warmer than the last, your lips part and your tongues slide against each other. The way he rolls his hips to yours, pressing upon your bare core - teasing.

You can feel how hard he is, through the flimsy fabric of his pants.

His mouth leaves yours, then, nipping and sucking his way down your neck. You know he’ll leave marks in his enthusiasm, and you can’t help the little jolt of pleasure that squirms through you - amplified by a sharp bite to the crook of your throat, soothed by the wet warmth of his tongue.

He continues his path, down over your collar, to the topmost edge of your nightgown, where he lays a kiss on the last expanse of exposed flesh.

He peeks up at you, his amber eyes darkened with lust, asking for permission to continue.

You nearly get tangled with how quickly you shove the fabric away, baring yourself to him even further. He’s quick to palm at you, rolling one of your nipple to a stiff peak between his thumb and forefinger, while his mouth finds the other. He laves his tongue over the bud for a couple seconds, before closing his mouth over it to deliver a harsh suck.

You whine in earnest, grinding yourself up against the tent in his pants.

His hand then abandons your breast, tiptoeing lower and lower until he finds the crux of your thigh - not quite touching you where you want him most.

You’re about to protest again, to ask him to give you more, but he is decidedly merciful tonight. His thumb ghosts over your hole, gathering up some of the wetness there, making easier the glide over your clit. Slow, lazy circles, not enough to bring you closer to orgasm, but enough to make you want.

He pulls his mouth off you with a wet pop, and he stares up at you with troublesome mischief.

“You’re already this worked up?” he teases, throwing you for a loop with a couple swift flicks over your clit.

“Like you’re - ah - one to talk!” you gasp back, squirming beneath his touch.

“Fair enough,” he sighs. “Do you know what I would really love, though?”

A whine catches in your throat, when he suddenly pulls his hand away from your pussy, and brings his thumb to his mouth to make a show of sucking your wetness off.

“I would love to taste you. To feel you come on my tongue.”

“Please!” You’re desperate, spreading your legs a little further beneath him.

He wastes no time in diving between them, licking a flat stripe up your slit and he holds your thighs open. He brings the tip of his tongue to a point at the end, making sure it catches on your clit to send little jolts of pleasure through your body.

Your cries are airy and wanting, as your fingers grip tightly at your nightgown to hold the hem out of the way.

Viktor makes quick work of you, his tongue warmer and far more versatile than his thumb had been - how easily he riles you up and has you going slack under his ministrations. Circling around your clit, then flicking it, then wrapping his lips around it to deliver a hard suck before slowing down to kitten licks.

You can’t find it in you to be embarrassed about your breathless little noises - far noisier than you’d ever been on your own. You want him to know how good he’s making you feel.

And then the familiar feeling of fingers at your entrance, tracing slowly over your slick folds while his tongue continues working on you. Dipping into your hole for a fraction of a second, before pulling back out - you know what he’s doing.

He’s trying to kill you.

“Viktor,” you gasp with trembling breath. “Please. Please- your fingers-”

You don’t need to beg more for him, as he sinks two of his digits into you as far as they’ll reach. He’s slow at first, almost tender, sliding into you at a leisurely pace. Only when he starts spreading his fingers do you squeak, falling back into the cushions with a poof.

He alternates between stretching your open and curling against your sweet spot, lewd sounds emanating no matter which direction he takes. You’re more turned on than you think you’ve been, with shaking thighs and shuddering breaths.

It’s no surprise that he brings you to the edge so easily.

“Viktor,” you whimper, “Please, please don’t stop-”

You crack your eyes open to look at him, to find him staring back at you with an intensity and lust you’ve never been the recipient of. His desire is enough to knock you over the edge, your orgasm cresting as you mewl and writhe beneath him. You’re floating, warm and safe and entirely blissful - heart fluttering in your chest. All is right in the world.

And then you come down from your high. Catching your breath while you remain boneless.

Viktor slides his fingers out of you and brings them to his lips, cleaning off the mess you left behind.

“Divine,” he mumbles, his tone low and inviting.

You surprise him by pulling him down into a kiss, and after some wiggling and finagling, you find yourself on top of him again.

“I want you inside me,” you all but beg against his lips, and he groans into your mouth.

“Patience-” he tries to say, but you’re having none of it.

“I want you to fuck me, Viktor. Please, please-”

Unable to resist you, he reaches over to the bedside table to fetch a little foil package he’d set out, that you hadn’t noticed prior.

You hastily tug at the waist of his pants, until he gets the idea and lifts his hips enough for you to slide them down - not all the way, you’re far too impatient for that - but enough that you’re able to bring him out into your hand.

You’re tentative at first, wrapping your hand around his cock in the barest of touches. He jumps at the contact, and you risk glancing up at him - slack-jawed and dazed, intently watching your hand where you squeeze around him.

You slowly gather up some of the wetness from the tip of his cock, red and drooling, and use it to slicken your movements. Slow at first, as he had been with you. Testing the waters, and gauging his reactions to how you touched him. He’s completely forgotten about opening the condom, distracted by the glide of your hand over his length.

He’s quieter than you were, you realize, his sounds mostly consisting of soft gasps and hitches in his throat. But he’s in heaven - as much is obvious with the way he’s pink all the way to the tips of his ears, and the way each breath shakes as he draws it.

Until his hand is atop yours, stopping your movements altogether.

“You alright?” you ask, looking up at him with a coy little smile. You know damn well that he’s alright, but you want to hear him say it.

“I don’t want to finish yet,” he murmurs. “Not in your hand, at least.”

“Not this time, you mean,” you chirp, and for a moment, the two of you share lopsided grins.

He hands you the condom, and you’re quick to pinch the tip and slide it down over him, giving a few strokes to test that it’s in place. It seems to be, fitting comfortably over his thick cock. You wonder momentarily if you’ll be able to take all of him, though you quickly abandon the thought.

Of course you will. He’d been so diligent when he’d stretch you out, brought you wave after wave of pleasure. You ache with how badly you want to feel him.

You shuck your nightgown off fully, haphazardly tossing it aside. Viktor stares without an ounce of shame, his gaze trailing over every curve and dip in your form: though he loses some of his focus, when you start grinding against him, sliding your slick folds over his cock - again and again, until you finally change your angle, and allow the tip to catch on your hole.

Then, you sink down.

Inch by inch.

He’s thicker than he looks, you think. You’ve never felt so full before, never felt so close to bursting. He stretches you so perfectly, with only the barest hint of a burn as you slowly, slowly, take more of him.

His thumbs rub small, reassuring circles into your hips, helping to hold you steady and make sure you don’t get too overzealous. He murmurs soft praises to you -or, you assume they’re praises- in his native tongue. You don’t really understand what he’s saying, but he speaks with such an intimate reverence that you’re certain you know what he means.

And then, you begin rocking. Once your hips have met each other, you pull away, only to slide back down. The way he drags inside you is nothing short of divine, and you’re positive you’re not the only one who thinks so.

It takes mere seconds for the two of you to build a rhythm, an equal amount of roll and thrust. The burn from moments ago has faded, replaced by hot pleasure that you know you won’t be able to come back from - your fingers would never be enough anymore, now that you’ve had a taste of him.

You’re not shy, letting him know how good he feels.

Your moans are broken little things, cracked and faltering as his hips meet your quicker and quicker.

You slouch forward, letting your palms fall flat onto his chest.

Then all at once, one of his hands abandons your hip, sliding to the back of your neck to pull you down into a searing kiss - open mouthed and wild, tongues slipping over each other in a desperate frenzy.

His other arm wraps around your midsection, keeping you flush with his body while he thrusts up into you. Harder, deeper, faster than before, the new angle reaching places you’d never felt.

A wanton wail escapes past your lips.

Viktor is quick to soothe you with another kiss.

But you’re too far gone.

Worked up already from your previous orgasm, you can’t do much more beyond cry out to him for more. More, more, more.

And so close to him now, you can hear the way Viktor’s voice cracks and catches in his throat, as if he’s barely holding on.

“Come for me,” you beg, slipping a hand between your bodies to toy with your slick clit. “Come for me, Viktor.”

Neither of you last long after that. You tumble headfirst into another delightful orgasm, to the slick sounds of your pussy gushing around him.

You don’t even have time to feel embarrassed about the mess you know you’ve made, with how Viktor hisses something you can’t understand, and then holds you tight to his body while he spills into you.

You lay there for what feels like forever, breathing hard with sweat-slick skin. With your ear on his chest, you can hear how his heart flits and begins to slow, matching your own as you slowly begin to return to each other.

The rest of the night feels like a daydream, touching each other constantly, sharing kisses and soft words as you clean each other up and tuck into bed.

Viktor is the first to fall asleep, worn out after a day of socializing and a night of bliss.

Looking down at him, your heart is full.

And before you flip off the lamp, you whisper to him.

“I love you.”

#viktor x reader #viktor arcane x reader #arcane x reader #viktor x reader smut #reader insert smut #Incorrigible Flirts And Besweatered Men #i really hope no one can tell how rusty i am at writing sins #its been so long holy shit #anyways #enjoy some wholesome boning

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peachym00 · 1 year ago

Text

Prying his eyes open to the light flooding in from the unclosed curtains in his room was not the worst way Pete could have woken up. Once, years ago, he’d woken up in the back of a car, the left side of his face throbbing from where his father had punched him for losing a match; it was still dark. He didn’t know where he was going or who was driving the car, and it scared him. He was only eleven.

As the grogginess faded to something more manageable, his head was pounding; a glass of water was on his bedside table, and he was only wearing one sock. Sitting up was a struggle; the pain in his head worsened when he moved, making him feel nauseous. Reaching out for the glass of water, he realised some paracetamol was sitting there too.

Huh.

After giving some time for the painkillers to kick in and his brain to restart, he gets out of bed and into the shower. Standing under the hot water gives him clarity, so much so that the memories from the night before start flooding in. He was drunk. So drunk. In front of Vegas.

Fuck.

The thought renders him useless, and he drops a near-full bottle of shower gel onto his foot, yelping in pain, then wincing when the echo of his own shout hurts his head.

Vague flashbacks of Vegas walking into their conversation in the bar, saving him from face-planting and helping him to bed surface from the shallow depths of his brain.

“God, Pete, you could give me a hand,” Vegas struggled to take all of Pete’s weight as they walked towards his bed.

“Here,” he holds his hand in front of Vegas’s face, chuckling to himself while he does it.

“What are you doing?”

“Giving you a hand,” Pete bursts into hysterical laughter as Vegas shoves him onto the bed.

“You’re fucking hilarious, Pete, really,” Vegas sighs, pulling off Pete’s shoes for him, “your comedic talents are wasted in the mafia. Do you need help getting undressed, or can you do that yourself?”

“You just want to see me n a k e d,” Pete teasingly spelt out, watching as Vegas stood up straight and put his hands on his hips. Pete tried to sit up but found he couldn’t manage it; instead, he settled for leaning back on his arms, slightly propped up.

Before he knew it, Vegas was leaning over him on the bed; Pete felt like he was going cross-eyed, trying to look up at him, “And what if I do?” Vegas murmured, far too close for comfort.

Well.

Suddenly everything wasn’t so funny anymore.

“You’ll have to use your imagination because the only place you’ll be seeing me naked is in your dreams,” Pete whispered back, proud of himself for being able to sound coherent.

“And what sweet, sweet dreams they’ll be,” Vegas said lowly, his tongue poking out between his lips, wetting them slightly so they glistened in the room’s low light.

Pete gulped loudly.

He was fucked. And that was putting it lightly.

How was Pete supposed to face him now?

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library-of-crow · 2 years ago

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It was an average day in Firnmel and Rhys had just returned from a week long hunt with some of the other folks in the village. The hunting party had spent the greater part of the day skinning rabbits, deer, and a couple wild hogs that they'd managed to slay to feed the village. He had shrugged off his massive fur cloak and hung it near the door after rinsing his hands in a bucket of water outside. His wife, Eles, would scold him endlessly if he came in smelling like blood and gore.

He wasted no time clambering into their home on a direct route to the fireplace, plopping down in a chair nearby to start unlacing his boots. Once he was satisfied with the number of removed layers, Rhys heaved a long exhale and sunk back into the chair, his eyes instantly falling shut.

A week long hunt was exhausting.

A week long hunt was especially exhausting when you were never trained a bow and were, therefore, awful with one.

Sure, he'd been in Firnmel long enough to train with some of the other townspeople but he hadn't quite mastered it yet. Something about a sword just felt better in his hands. It was more comfortable, like he was always meant to wield one. Granted, most prey he'd encountered on the sea didn't have very far to run before the boat came to an end and they were forced into the ocean below.

Ah, but Rhys Ethel, now Ethel-Umbar, was a reformed man. No more did he long for the seas or worry himself about the potential for other pirates that may steal his bounty. He was a proper village man now, with a lovely wife, a cottage, and a child on the way. Rhys Ethel-Umbar had been domesticated.

"Ah, you're back." At the sound of his wife's voice, Rhys popped an eye open in her direction. He didn't move to sit up as he heard her shuffle in his direction. Eles had stopped at the side of his chair, resting a hand over his head that immediately started raking through his matted curls. She'd remind him to wash up more before dinner. "I just spoke with Misty."

"Did you? Her Eoin is a good shot." Rhys replied, his eyes falling back shut as he settled into her touch. Her fingers against his scalp were a comfort after the week of tough living conditions and itchy bed rolls.

"Aye, he is, best in town." She hummed her agreement before stopping her hand and moving to stand in front of her husband. Rhys opened his eyes instinctively, sitting up a little straighter at the sight of Eles’s intense stare, her hands firmly planted on her hips. He was in trouble. "Why did you teach their Cormac how to craft a shiv?"

"That's what this is about?"

"Aye."

"Misty's always been a bit of a prig."

"Rhys." She smacked his shoulder while he chuckled, apparently it wasn't as funny to her. "Be serious. Why did you teach him that? He showed his mum and she immediately came to find me!" Rhys fully straightened at Eles's frustration.

"Eoin brought the boy today when we were skinning our kills. He was bored." He reached his hands out to pull his wife closer. She only resisted for a moment before allowing him to pull her in, resting her knee on the chair between his legs for balance. Rhys wrapped his arms around her back, placing his chin against her stomach to look up at her.

"He's eight, Rhys." Eles retorted, holding her hands on either side of his face.

"That's a perfect age to learn."

But he doesn't need to." Rhys twisted his face a bit in immediate response. "Not like that, I just mean he doesn't need to. He's got other things to keep him busy, like books or drawings or anything but a shiv." She corrected before he could make a remark. She knew that look. It usually meant he had interpreted her words as a reminder that he was an outsider and she wanted to clarify before his insecurities got the better of him.

Technically, he was. No matter how many years he spent in Firnmel, he still felt ever so slightly out of place. His rough childhood in Lyvir, his time at sea, all of it added up to create constant reminders of his otherness. He crafted his first shiv at age eight. Rhys moved to bury his face in Eles's stomach.

"Well, did she tell you that I taught him it wasn't a weapon? That it was only used for skinning rabbits?" His reply was muffled by the cloth of her dress but she heard it none the less. Eles sighed, it was ultimately a harmless and helpful skill.

"She neglected to mention that."

"Or how about how many rabbits he helped us skin after that? Cormac is a rabbit skinning expert, or at least will be when he stops accidentally cutting into the meat."

"I suppose that's a useful skill. He'll be a fine hunter when he's older." Rhys lifted his head as she spoke, tilting back to look up at her with a slightly confused expression. Wasn't she just mad at him over this?

"I thought you disapproved?" He questioned, his eyes narrowing as he scanned his lover's face for any sign of joking. A small chuckle escaped her lips as they formed a soft smile.

"Misty disapproved. I may have at first but I said I'd speak with you, now I understand why you did it." Her hands moved to rest on his head and again mess with his hair. "Maybe avoid it in the future. I'll tell her you're sorry- No, I'll tell her I spoke with you and leave the response ambiguous."

"You're an odd woman." Rhys teased, melting into her touch before turning his head so his ear rested against her body. His arms pulled her in closer, snuggling up to her body by the firelight. "Scheming about how you'll tell Misty to just get over it and stop being such a-"

"I said no such thing!" Eles cut him off with a soft whack on the top if his head. Rhys only laughed in response and she couldn't help but laugh along with him. He wasn't always perfect, Labelas knows he wasn't, but Eles could never stay upset with him. Every mistake he made, he made with good intentions. It was his way of trying to fit in with Firnmel. To understand the locals and the culture, to truly adopt every tradition and unspoken rule.

To be like her.

By the gods, Rhys did everything for her. If she said jump, he'd ask how high. He was hopelessly devoted to her and would go to great lengths to protect her and their unborn child.

"You know, we should teach our kid to shoot a bow from a young age." Rhys finally said once the silence had settled again. "That way they will be some sort of archery prodigy by their teen years. Best hunter in all of Firnmel." Eles shook her head with a laugh at his grand dreams for their child but she couldn't help but agree. She already knew Rhys would do anything for that kid, just as he did for her.

"Sounds like a fine plan," she paused momentarily to cup his face in her hands and force him to look at her, "but you will be in charge of making sure they do not shoot their neighbors. Purposefully or accidentally." She punctuated her demands by squishing his face slightly, giggling at the silly way his cheeks looked.

"Deal." He mimicked a salute before breaking free of her hands to plant a kiss on her stomach. Eles's giggles didn't cease as he pulled her down into his lap and scattered sloppy kisses over her cheeks. He ignored her complaints of how dirty he was, instead taking them as a sign to pull her in closer. Her continuous laughter only fueled his attack.

As their shared laughter finally died down, Eles couldn't help but nestle into his lap, her face landing in the crook of his neck. For a moment, they sat in silence, trying to catch their breath.

"I think we'll be alright." Eles finally muttered as the room grew quiet.

"Alright? How do you mean?"

"Alright parents."

"Oh by far. You'll be excellent and I'll be okay. Together, we're alright." Eles smacked Rhys's chest as he elicited another laugh from her. He was right, they'd certainly be alright together.

"Aye, aye. Now go wash up before dinner, you stink like meat and blood." She began pushing herself out of his grasp before she was suddenly pulled back in. Rhys took advantage of her surprise to steal a quick kiss before letting her go free. As she pushed herself up, she again smacked his shoulder and rolled her eyes.

Yeah, they'd be alright together.

#rhys ethel-umbar #eles umbar #arly umbar #the grand ghost

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