#how much gold is out there just waiting to be dug up?

[silvermoon424]

Dude I just found this video that's an iceberg of public access tv. In the first THREE MINUTES there's been:

A rude psychic who doesn't actually tell people's fortunes, instead hanging up on them if "their vibes are bad" (which applies to everyone)

A wholesome drag queen cooking show where all she cooks are bananas and she has paper mache tits

An anarchist punk who said "oops, my anarchy symbol!" when his desk-pounding led to his hand-drawn sign falling down

This is all in tier 1 btw, out of 6 tiers total. I think I just found my new favorite video lol

[commandershepardvasfuckit]

Teasing your monster husband into some morning sex

————

Your husband was always awake before you. Alway sitting at the lit hearth and making breakfast for you both. It was very sweet, but some mornings you really wished you could actually wake up with him. You had no idea how he was always able to get out of bed so quietly and never wake you.

This morning was no exception. He was already sitting at the hearth and preparing breakfast, softly humming to himself while he waited for you to wake up.

You took a moment to admire him, what was once monstrous was now quite attractive. The glow of the fire gently illuminated the sapphire tones of his skin, his dense, shaggy hair was still messy from sleep, the light occasionally catching on the gold bands on his tusks.

He looked up as he heard you moving around in bed, “Breakfast will be ready soon if you would like to join me.”

“Sure, just a moment. I just want to stretch a little, woke up pretty stiff” you lied. You had wished you woke up next to him so you could kiss his neck and tease him.

Coyly you tucked your legs under you and laid flat down on your thighs, a good stretch for the lower back. You peered over your see if you had his attention yet, though for the most part he was just still fussing over breakfast.

You lifted your butt into the air and stretched your arms out in front of you, making sure to wiggle about to get his attention, and your naked backside definitely seemed to do it.

He watched you with curiosity, trying to figure out if you were doing that on purpose or really just stretching. You did your best to dramatically stretch forward a bit more and raise your rear up farther.

It always amazed you how quickly and quietly he moved despite his size. Before you even registered that he had gotten up and was now kneeling behind you, his hands on your hips.

“So, I would take that this is an invitation?” he asked, you could hear how he was smiling as he spoke, the way his purring seeped into his voice.

You did not answer, but instead happily pressed back against him, enjoying how his erection felt against you.

“You get up too early” you teased him.

“Well, someone has to make breakfast here and I know it will not be you. Though if this is how you would prefer to spend your mornings then I have no complaints” his nails dug into your hips where he held you.

You felt his grip leave you and then him shifting around to get out of the pants he had probably only just put on. Moments later you felt as he rubbed his tip between your folds, sliding easily through the beginning of your wetness.

“I do not think you are ready yet” his voice was low in your ear.

You whined in protest, ready to feel how your husband’s thick cock filled you so perfectly and reached so impossibly deep.

His hand slipped between your thighs and quickly found your clit to rub circles, causing you to moan into where your face rested in the bed. He happily continued just slowly thrusting between your legs while he toyed with you.

It never took long with him, the anticipation of what was to come got you off nearly as much as him rubbing your clit. You let out soft whimpers as you came.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you mumbled, “You could have just gone for it.”

“No” his voice was firm, a discussion you had many times, “And before you argue again: I am still too big, or you are too small, and I do not want to hurt you.”

“You aren’t going to hurt me.”

“Maybe or maybe not, but I do not want to risk it still” he said firmly, letting you know that it was not up for discussion, “And anyways, I like it when you are needy and desperate.”

He leaned down over you, his chest pressed to your back. His breath was warm in your ear as he spoke “And I like it when you beg.”

Your knees almost gave out from his words. Your husband was a fairly mild mannered man, a caregiver and protector despite his fighting ability, and rarely ever was dominate with you.

“Please” you moaned.

“Please what? My love” he cooed back sweetly.

“Please fuck me.”

Your legs did give out as he slowly entered you and he wrapped an arm under you to keep you up. As much as you hated to admit it he was probably right with always insisting that you were already nice and relaxed beforehand.

His pace was steady, sheathing himself entirely before waiting a few moments for you to adjust. It was always difficult to remember to breathe at first, he was deep enough where you swore you could feel him in your chest practically.

His hand returned to your clit once he was certain you would not collapse, picking back up with rubbing circles against you. Every little touch sent tingles down your limbs.

You felt his tusks against either side of your neck as he buried his face into your hair. He dwarfed you entirely, caging you under him, not that you were complaining. His balls slapped against you with every thrust as he sped up. No matter how many times you slept together you never got used to his size in any sense.

“Cum for me, please” he urged you, the command in his voice slipping and becoming his usual needy whining.

It did not take much for you to finish, clenching around him while he kept dragging out every bit of pleasure he could from you.

He kept his fingers against your clit, enjoying how tightly you gripped him as he overstimulated you as his pace became erratic. With a few firm snaps of his hips you felt how his balls twitched against you as he came in you. How you felt hot cum fill your already overstretched cunt and drip out around his base.

“I think” he gasped, “Maybe I will start staying in bed for longer in the mornings.”

[vervee]

I am so screwed

Summary - You’re about to take your driver’s test when your Uber crashes into a truck. You wake up as a baby in a dating sim you used to play. Cue the mental breakdown. You’re stuck in a new life with no control, and worst of all, you’re starting over—puberty’s back, and you’re pretty sure you’re screwed.

Warnings in General - MDNI, Mature themes, blood, gore, violence, drugs, death, human experimentation, etc...

Maybe it was a sign?

You were just a college student, about to take your driver’s test. You did everything you could—roped your friends into helping you memorize road signs, survived all those breakdowns with your older brother yelling at you in his not-so-calm voice every time you messed up.

Couldn’t God just let you catch a break this time?

On test day, you took an Uber. No one in your family could drive you, but they all wished you good luck. You were so pumped, hyping yourself up like you were about to win a gold medal.

You’d nailed the written exam—now it was time to prove to the government that you could actually drive.

But then, for some reason…

Your Uber driver was way worse than you.

He swerved into passing traffic at an intersection and crashed right into a freaking Costco truck.

You didn’t even know what was going on at first. You were too busy texting a friend until you felt the impact. You remember the coil in your seat and how the seatbelt dug into your body as you clung to the grab handle, praying you'd stay alive.

‘Fuck this,’ was your last thought as you closed your eyes, just seconds after hearing the wail of the ambulance sirens.

In those seconds, you hoped your dad was okay. After his stroke a few years ago, he struggled with so much. You just hoped mom wasn’t pushing herself too hard at work—being the only one working since dad had to retire after the accident left his left arm useless.

You remembered your oldest brother texting you about a package being delivered to the front door, telling you to bring it inside before someone swiped it off the porch. Your older sister probably went home after her graveyard shift at the hospital, waiting for your brother-in-law to come back from a flight. And your older brother? He was probably about to call to ask what’s for dinner.

You were the youngest in your family, a solid ten years apart from your older brother, who was the third oldest. Growing up, you didn’t have anyone to play with—your siblings were all angsty teens who didn’t want to play ponies with you anymore.

Now, though? They all wanted to do everything with you. Their baby sister, who was almost done with her angsty phase too.

You always figured they were jealous because you were the favorite. And honestly, who could blame them? You were a total godsend. Dad would’ve laughed if you said that out loud—if you were anything like him, you'd know that statement was far from the truth.

Still, you hoped they wouldn’t have trouble anymore.

At least now, you'd get to see your grandfather and the niece you never got to meet.

Then, your heart beat its last.

"Isn't she pretty?" A man's voice made you stir.

"So cute!" A woman gushed, her voice full of excitement.

You had no idea if they were talking about you, but your eyelids felt heavy, and all you wanted to do was sleep. These voices were way too close for comfort, and you just hoped they weren’t some crazy lunatics cooing over you at your deathbed.

Your vision blurred, and instead of seeing your dead grandparents, you saw a young couple, their faces lit up with big smiles. “Oh, she’s waking up!” The woman said, clearly delighted.

Who the hell were these people?!

You wanted to move, to get up, but your body had no strength. “She’s squirming… Maybe her diaper is full?” Diaper?

Wait, what?

NAUR!!!

This couldn’t be real! In any other situation, you might’ve been stoked to get another shot at life, but these were NOT your parents! You wanted your real mama and papa, not these strangers!

“WAHHHH!” Your cries came out so high-pitched, they could’ve made your music teacher, the one you never missed a chance to tease about his bald spot, flinch.

The woman holding you flinched too, clearly a new parent. “Hon, quick! I need to change her diaper!” she called to her husband, who immediately rushed to grab the duffle bag from one of the chairs.

‘No! Get away!’

Your tiny body was in full meltdown mode. You were so mad—not only were these people your new parents, but you were gonna have to go through the whole school system again! All of it. All that effort, all those grades, just to start over like a baby.

Puberty.

That thought only made you cry harder. It had taken you YEARS to achieve the perfect poreless face. Why did nothing ever go your way?! What kind of karma was this BS? You were a genuinely good person—you’d even stopped yourself from committing arson multiple times! That alone should’ve earned you a life back with your real family!

Apparently, your meltdown over having to go through puberty again was enough to distract you from your diaper being changed. The next thing you knew, a baby bottle was being shoved (gently) into your mouth, warm formula milk filling it.

‘Now this is just degrading...’

Though comforting, you finally understood why babies stop crying when they’re fed. But... you grew up lactose intolerant. Hopefully, you didn’t inherit any of those genes from your previous life.

Your “mother” giggled, her smile lighting up the room. She was so pretty—no, gorgeous. She looked like she’d stepped right out of a magazine.

“We waited so long to meet you…” she whispered, and you realized she had already decided on your name.

They kept your name.

The name your dad gave you at birth.

Maybe, just maybe, you could tolerate this new life after all.

Turns out your “mom” and “dad” were loaded.

Apparently, “dad” was some kind of financial day trader, and “mom” was a fashion designer.

You were pretty sure they had money in the same way most people had Netflix subscriptions—like it was just a given. You were starting to see how this new life might not be so bad… though you still wished it didn’t come with the whole baby thing.

The neighborhood was nice, and the house they pulled up to was even nicer. This was… so different from how you grew up. Your parents weren’t wealthy at all, didn’t come from much money. You and your older sister had to be the breadwinners of the family—go to school, get good grades, and make sure you got paid.

Comfort always felt… unfulfilling to you. It was like you’d never earned it, never had to fight for it. It didn’t have the same satisfaction as the struggle. Maybe that’s why it felt so empty now, even with all the luxury around you.

It was just how you grew up.

You shifted in the little stroller your "mom" had put you in, your tiny body still adjusting to everything. Your "dad" was the one guiding it to the front door. “Welcome home, pumpkin,” he cooed at you.

The pet name made you sick. This man was nothing like your real papa.

You pouted, and he tilted his head, clearly trying to figure you out. “You’ve been pouting since you woke up. Do you want a nap?”

God, you hated that sweet, patronizing tone of his voice. It made your skin crawl. 

The nursery was nice—fit for a princess, really. Pastel pink and ivory white were the main colors, everything had fur, and even the little bunny in the crib was now your new roommate.

‘I miss Mr. Puffles II.’

You watched the mobile above you spin slowly, playing a familiar melody. Mr. Puffles had been the first and only Christmas present you ever got from your parents—a pink teddy bear you’d had since you were six.

You knew you were being a Negative Nancy, but this was just how you coped. There were too many things still spinning around in your head. You hated not knowing things.

Ultimately, you decided to sleep on it—partly because you had way too much to process, but mostly because watching the mobile spin was making you really sleepy.

Sleep came easier than you expected, but that didn’t stop the weird sense of disconnection you felt the moment you woke up.

The next morning, or whatever time it was (you had no real concept of time anymore), you were greeted by your “mom” hovering over your crib with a bright, almost blinding smile. “Good morning, sweetheart~” her voice was as soft as the ridiculous amount of plushies surrounding you.

You merely blinked at her.

How were you supposed to respond to that? Cry? Giggle? You refused to do either.

Instead, your stomach betrayed you, letting out a grumble so loud that even you were embarrassed. Your “mom” giggled. “Sounds like someone’s hungry.” No. No, you weren’t.

You were just—okay, maybe you were. But you didn’t want to be.

You still weren’t over the fact that you were back to square one in life, stuck in a body that couldn’t even hold up its own head properly.

You barely had time to protest before you were scooped up into her arms and carried downstairs. The house was even bigger than you realized, all modern and pristine, like something out of a home magazine.

Your “dad” was already at the dining table, dressed in some fancy-looking suit, sipping his morning coffee like he was living in a commercial. “Morning, princess,” he greeted, flashing you a smile.

You wanted to glare at him. Instead, you just stared.

This was your life now, huh?

She passed you along to him, and he held you securely in one arm while holding the bottle with the other. You begrudgingly accepted it—because, well, survival—but that didn’t mean you were happy about it.

“Mom should be here soon,” “dad” said to “mom.”

You assumed he meant her mom—your supposed “grandmother.”

“Mom” visibly relaxed, letting out a relieved sigh. “That’s a relief.” And honestly, it was—considering she had just given birth to you a few days ago. She should be recuperating.

You were at least glad to see they had some family support instead of just handing you off to a nanny. Not that it changed much for you, but hey, better than being raised by a stranger, right?

The doorbell rang.

“Mom” started to get up, but “Dad” was quicker. “I’ve got it, just rest,” he told her, his tone firm but gentle. Before you could even process what was happening, he brought you with him to the door.

“Dad" opened the door to reveal a young woman who looked about the same age as "Mom." She was holding a gift basket in one hand, and with the other, she kept a grip on a little boy who couldn't have been older than two.

The kid had black hair and hazel-green eyes, and despite his baby face, he had the most dead inside look you’d ever seen.

‘What are you looking at, brat?’ you mentally challenged him, locking eyes.

For some reason… he looked weirdly familiar.

“Ah, James. How is Miriam?” the woman asked with a gracious smile.

So those were their names.

“Oh, and here’s a little goody basket for you guys. Congrats.”

James returned her smile, adjusting his hold on you. “She’s resting,” he said, then accepted the basket with his free hand. “Thank you, it’s much appreciated.”

The woman’s eyes brightened when they landed on you.

Heh. Of course they did. No one could resist you—you were the ultimate weakness of women. A baby.

“Is this her?” she asked, already smitten.

James nodded vigorously, beaming with all the pride of a new dad. “Yep, this is our little miracle.” He held you up slightly, practically showing you off like a prized trophy.

Yeah, yeah. You got it, you were cute.

The woman lifted her son, leaning him closer so he could get a good look at you. “Say hi, Zayne,” she encouraged.

Wait—

Zayne?

The little boy stared at you with those same dull, lifeless eyes. His mom smiled warmly. “I hope they become good friends when they’re older,” she said. “They’ll be seeing each other often since we’re neighbors. Miriam and I would love for them to get along.”

Black hair. Green-hazel eyes. Monotone even as a child—

YOU REINCARNATED INTO LOVE AND DEEP SPACE?!

Of all universes, why a dating sim you used to play?!

This had to be some sort of joke, right? This kind of thing only happened in fanfics! You were not built for fighting Wanderers! You could barely survive the mile run in high school, let alone deal with all the chaos in that world!

And worst of all? You did not want to get wrapped up in MC’s messy love life, her harem.

“WAAHHH!” You wailed, absolutely losing it.

James, Zayne, and his mother all flinched at the sudden outburst.

James immediately started bouncing you gently, trying to calm you down. “It’s okay, princess, Daddy’s here,” he cooed, but you were not having it.

You were freaking out, and rightfully so! This was not the life you signed up for!

James shot Zayne’s mother a helpless look, silently pleading for assistance. She, in turn, gave him an understanding nod. “Seems like we disrupted her,” she said. “We’ll leave for now. Tell Miriam to take it easy, okay?”

With that, she turned away, guiding little Zayne back toward their home.

But you? You were still internally screaming.

James closed the door behind him, still bouncing you gently as he walked back into the house. “It’s okay,” he murmured, trying to soothe you.

No! It was not okay!

You were far from okay!

‘I am so screwed!’

[ambiguous-avery]

"You Know I Love You, Right?

bf!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader/You | WC: 1107

Summary: Because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.” Or: Sometimes your boyfriend comes home from a long hunt pent up and missing you.

Tags/Warnings: Smut 18+ MDNI, no use of Y/N, established relationship, she/her pronouns, femme nicknames (sweetheart, baby), reader is AFAB, unprotected P in V sex (make safe decisions, friends), PWP (Plot? What plot?), no beta we die like men

A/N: Another one based on a line I heard somewhere before, and it has stuck with me. Seriously, these one-liners are absolute gold for inspiration!

Two weeks.

That’s how long the last hunt had kept Dean away from you. And though the two of you had talked on the phone every night, a phone call couldn’t keep you warm at night as you laid in the shared bed all by your lonesome. You could hear the anxiousness in his voice with each passing day until you were sure he was itching to get back to you just as much as you were ready for him to be back by your side. And when he yanked you into a desperate, needy kiss as soon as he returned to the bunker, he gave you minimal warning for the storm that had been brewing.

“You know I love you, right?” he asked breathlessly against your lips. “Because I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.” 

He pinned you to the mattress, crushing you into it beneath his weight and caging you in with his frame. He dragged his fingers through your hair, sliding up the back of your neck and grabbing a fistful of your hair. You wrapped your arms around him, arching into him, searching for all the contact you could get. Dean was an inferno, and all you could do was let his blaze consume all that you were. And you’d let him. Over and over and over. But you’d take him with you.

You bit at his lip when he kissed you, and a half-groan, half-growl rumbled low in his throat. It send shivers through you, and he yanked on the handful of hair he had, pulling your head to the side and trailing kisses along your jaw. He nipped at the side of your neck before sucking a bruise there, leaving a dark, angry mark high enough for everyone to see. You whimpered, your fingers finding the hem of his shirt and dragging it up and over his head. He slipped out of it, barely skipping a beat as his other hand reached down and skimmed over your hip before sliding your own shirt – one of his you had stolen from him – off and tossing it aside. 

You moaned as his hands roamed over your skin, exploring every curve and valley you were sure he already had memorized as though it were the first time. His lips trailed from your neck down to your collarbone, and you felt his breath hot against your skin. He trailed lower, kissing the swells of your breasts through your bra before unfastening it and adding it to the growing pile of discarded clothes. He dragged his fingers across your bare skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. You dug your nails into his shoulders, and his low, guttural sound that sent liquid fire through your veins was your reward.

“Missed you, Dean,” you mumbled.

“Missed you too, sweetheart. Need you too badly to take this slow,” he whispered against your skin, his voice hoarse with need and desire. You whimpered in response, your body begging for him to take what he wanted. 

The rest of your clothes and his found their place somewhere along the floor before he was on you again, kissing you breathless and biting and sucking any skin he could get his mouth on. He wasted no time in lining himself up with your entrance where you were already wet and waiting for him. Dean wasn’t the only one who was pent up and looking forward to his return. You each let out simultaneous sighs of relief as he slid home with a single roll of his hips. 

“Fuck, Dean,” you gasped, your nails writing stories of your desire into his skin when he finally began to move.

His response was a low growl, his hips rocking into yours. His eyes met yours, and you could see the desperation and hunger that swirled in a distinctly Dean way. You hooked a leg around him, urging him deeper, and he obliged, shifting a bit so he could seat himself fully with each thrust. It was rough. It was primal. Like you were just a body for Dean to use and abuse. And fuck he knew how to use you. 

“Come on, baby, let me feel how much you missed me,” he whispered against your ear, the rough stubble of his face scratching against your skin. You arched your back, meeting his thrusts with a fervor of your own that could rival his. He reached between you, finding your clit with practiced ease, and teased it between his fingers. You lost yourself to him, legs tightening and nails digging into his forearm.

“Dean!” His name tumbled past your lips, unbidden as he fucked you through your release, his fingers on your clit quickly becoming too much. He must’ve seen it on your face, because he moved his hand to your hip, thumb digging into the jut of your pelvis. You trembled around him, but he didn’t relent.

“Look at me, pretty girl. Need to see those pretty eyes of yours.”

You obliged him, meeting his intense gaze as his thrusts grew more urgent. At one point, you had been so embarrassed letting him see your expressions when you came undone beneath him. Anymore, you didn’t care. Because you got to see him equally as unraveled. You clung to him, reveling in every sensation and savoring the moment like it would be your last.

“I need - I need you to come inside me. It’s been too long.”

“Fuck, you look so good. So wrecked. So fucking gorgeous.” His hips stuttered, pressed flush against yours as he came hard and deep. You could feel each pulse of him as he leaned down and kissed you. The two of you shared a moment, heartbeats racing and breaths mingling. 

Two weeks was far too long, you both silently agreed. He slipped out of you, grabbing the towel you had strategically hung over the desk chair when you got the text that he was heading back from his hunt. He wet it with warm water and settled back beside you before gently wiping you down, murmuring praise against your skin all the while. You cupped his cheek, guiding his eyes to yours. He offered you a lopsided grin. You returned it, high on the endorphins flooding your system as you looked at your boyfriend.

“Holy hell… you sure that’s how you fuck someone you don’t love?”

Dean rolled over top of you again, his flagging erection pressed against your thigh. You felt him twitch as he pulled you into another kiss, this one much softer than all the others. 

“Give me five minutes, and I’ll show you the difference, sweetheart.”

---

Likes, reblogs, and comments are greatly appreciated!

Dean taglist: @aylacavebear @globetrotter28 @jollyhunter @bettystonewell @supernotnatural2005 @sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth

Drop a comment, ask away, or add yourself to my taglist!

[wordsofelie]

🔭Saturn

part of my observatory event, requested by @stellar-haikyuu <3

kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

summary: you’ve finally found a rival who meets your standards. too bad the man is the most infuriating, stupid and annoying person on earth.

content warnings: high school setting, hurt/comfort, sports / academic rivals, swearing, reader kinda has an inferiority complex

words count: 1.4k

It started as a game. A silly, stupid, little game.

At least, that’s what you told yourself at first.

You’ve always been rather—competitive. Ever since you were a kid, you chased after every first place, every gold medal, every record waiting to be broken. Higher grades, longer races in PE, and everything else that would make you better. And then, you found volleyball—a sport that only fed that hunger, made the desire to win burn even brighter.

But before, no one had ever truly met your standards.

That is, until you met him.

Kuroo Tetsurou.

You became classmates in your first year of high school. You didn’t pay much attention to him on your first day (he seemed like the perfect depiction of a teenage boy—messy-haired, slouched over his desk, probably more interested in making dirty jokes than studying). But when the first chemistry grades came, your jaw dropped—that bastard had a better score than you. Maybe it was chance, you tried to tell yourself at first, but the semester passed, and his grades only improved.

“Need something?” is the first thing he ever asked you.

You didn’t realise you were staring at the paper in his hands until his voice reached your ears.

“I don’t,” you quickly regained your composure, clearing your throat and lifting up your chin.

His mouth turned into a side smirk. Infuriating. “Cause I can tutor you if you want.”

That motherfucker, is the only way you could describe Kuroo at this moment. You gripped your pen like it was his throat. Your hands clenched so hard your nails dug into your palms.

Still, you forced a smile in return, “I’ll pass thanks.”

“Too bad. I’ve got the annals from last year’s exam at home. I could’ve lent them to you. Or maybe they’d be too hard for you to understand.” He rested his chin in his palm calmy, looking almost bored.

Oh, you were going to kill him.

“Don’t bother, I fear I might smash your face with the book.”

His eyes widened in surprise, but his laid-back attitude came back just as fast.

“You can try, but I don’t think you can reach me. I’ve seen you play, I jump higher than you, you know.”

“Wow. Real mature-”

You were convinced the game could have gone on for hours, but unfortunately—or fortunately—the bell rang, and the class got dismissed.

You remember watching him getting up. If you didn’t just get belittled by him maybe you could have given credit to his looks. Tall, athletic, confident. That’s what Kuroo was like in your eyes. If he didn’t have a shitty personality and a stupid hairstyle you think that maybe he could have been less unbearable. But as you got out of the classroom, you only wanted to prove him wrong and dethrone him.

Your first-ever interaction transformed into a declaration of war. And the war lasted all high school.  Because, obviously, Kuroo wasn’t just good in chemistry—maths, physics, PE. Teachers loved him, praised him, classmates laughed with him. He was perfect in everything. And what made your blood boil in your veins was how effortless he made everything look. You sacrificed so much to be where you were, gave so much passion and time into school that you couldn’t stand the sight of him acting like it was easy.

And he played volleyball, which gave you even more reason to compare yourself to him.

It got worse when you both became captains of your team. You started comparing scores and blocks and victories.

At first, you liked the unspoken rule between you—the constant back and forth, the rivalry that kept you both on edge whether it was for school or volleyball.

Then, it became an obsession.

You started waking up earlier to go for a run, going to bed later to study for exams. You did everything you could and still—he was better.

You remember seeing Kuroo once on the sidelines at one of your practice matches, grinning at you with hands on his hips. “You’re looking a little slow today, Captain.”

You shot him a glare.

“Why are you even here Kuroo?” You spat once the game was over. “You’re not gonna get any girls with that haircut, you know.”

“Making fun of my hair again? You’re getting a little repetitive these days.” He chuckled. Gosh, you hated this laugh. “Besides, there’s only one girl I want attention from.”

You rolled your eyes and walked away, but deep down, your heart was pounding fast. You hated how good he was. You hated that he pushed you to be better. And more than anything—you hated how much he could control your emotions, making you sad and angry and frustrated just by being close to you.

The Inter-High qualifications arrived too fast, but you were ready.

Your team had trained relentlessly. You’d pushed yourself harder than ever, and now, it was time to prove that you could do this. That you could win.

You made it to the semi-finals. You were so close.

And then—you lost.

You didn't even make it to the finals, let alone Nationals. Your dream shattered in front of you, a cruel joke the universe had played at your expense.

You shook hands with the winning team, congratulated them like a good athlete should. Then you headed to the locker room, collapsing onto the bench; your throat was tight and your eyes burnt.

You didn't hear the door opening.

And a few seconds later, you knew he was here.

You hated him. Kuroo Tetsurou.

You hated him from the bottom of your heart.

And that hatred only grew bigger now that he was standing there, hands in his pockets, ready to make fun of your loss.

“I’m not in the mood for your teasing, Kuroo.”

Silence.

Then, softly: “I’m not here to tease.”

You finally looked up. His usual smirk was nowhere to be found, you almost missed it. Your eyes immediately stared at the floor again. “I just-” He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “You don’t deserve this.”

You scoffed, bitter. “Yeah? Tell that to the scoreboard.”

Kuroo took a step closer. “I know how much this meant to you.”

Your jaw tightened. You couldn't look at him. If you did, you’d break. And you didn't want to break in front of him.

“Don’t you ever get tired of always winning?”

Kuroo blinked in surprise. “What?”

“You’re always ahead. Always. You beat me in volleyball. You beat me in grades. You beat me at everything. It’s exhausting.” Your voice cracked, and you hated it. “I’ve spent years trying to keep up with you. And now-” You laughed, but it was humourless. “Now, you get to go to Nationals while I sit at home and watch.”

Kuroo frowned. He opened his mouth—you saw it from the corner of your eyes. “I never—”

“You never what?” you snapped. “Never tried to one-up me? Never enjoyed being better than me? Cause I’m way behind you, aren’t I?”

“That’s not-” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I never wanted to beat you.”

“Bullshit. Every time we got a grade, you asked to see mine. You came to every practice game, telling me I could do more. You stayed late after school just to show me how your receives were better than mine. At tournament, you came in the frontline just to see me lose and-”

Kuroo shook his head. “It’s not that-” He hesitated. “You inspire me.”

Your heart stopped beating for a second, or two. “What?”

“You’re the best opponent I’ve ever had,” he admitted. “And yeah, I like pushing you, but not because I want to humiliate you. I just-” He rubbed the back of his neck. For the first time in the three years you had known him, he looked nervous. “I like seeing you play. I like watching you get better.”

You stared at him. This—this wasn't how your conversations usually went. Kuroo was supposed to be smug, sarcastic, insufferable. Not… this.

Not kind.

“I don’t need your pity,” you finally muttered as you looked away.

Kuroo stepped closer again and knelt down in front of you. “It’s not pity.”

“Then what is it?” The words quieted one after the other.

He seemed to be looking for the right words. But then—

“I’m going to miss you.”

You froze and your heart stuttered, and you hated that it did. (Or maybe the feeling wasn’t so bad, maybe you didn’t hate it, maybe you could get used to it.)

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you asked. You tried to sound annoyed instead of breathless, but your voice betrayed you.

Kuroo grinned—soft, for once. “It means I don’t want this to be the end of our game. Even in uni, even when we’re old and can’t play volleyball anymore, I want you to remain my best opponent.”

You stared at him. He was serious.

“You’re an idiot.”

He chuckled. “Maybe.”

A few seconds passed before he spoke again. With his usual smirk and his stupid bed hair, he asked: “Need something?”

And then—because you were exhausted, because you’d lost everything that day, because you didn't have the energy to fight anymore—you let yourself leaned into him, just a little.

His arms were warm as they wrapped around you.

Tears started falling from your eyes, your muscles eased. Everything hurt and softened at the same time.

He was right. Maybe this wasn't the end of the game.

Maybe it was just a new round.

a/n: i had so much fun writing this <33

thank you so so much to @keishuii for beta-reading it, you’re the best!!

[lilithrosexoxo]

Fated Mates Ch. 1 Zing

Your mother takes the time to pin up your hair into an elaborate updo while your maidens pull your corset tight. “But Mother at this point I don’t even have a fated mate; the lunar goddess overlooked me”, you say with a dejected sigh.

You hate to think that way but how else are you supposed to feel? Most people meet their fated mates in their late teens or early 20s but here you are an unmated omega at 28 and not only an unmated omega but a prime omega. Your mother has always described meeting a fated mate would feel like a zing in your soul and you’ve never even felt so much as a spark with any alpha or beta. It honestly left you feeling heartbroken, lonely, and feeling like something was wrong with you. Did you not deserve love? Did you not deserve a kind loving alpha to make you feel safe? Would all of your heats always be torturous due to not feeling any satisfaction from any toy no matter how big. It just couldn’t compare to a real alphas knot. You feel tears start to well up in your eyes as you think of spending the rest of your life alone. Just the thought of spending every night by your lonesome in your nest made your heart ache. Or worst of all what if you were never able to start a pack of your own? You’ve always dreamed of having pups of your own, would you really not be able to become a mother?

“You’re doing that overthinking thing again”, your mother states pulling you out of your spiral, “you never know who you may meet at this ball, there will be a lot of handsome alphas here tonight”, she states like this night will be any different. “Besides we need a suitable alpha to take over the kingdom. All of our babies were omegas and omegas simply can’t rule the kingdom. While I love your siblings mates, none of them give off a good kingly presence and none of them are the mate of a prime omega”, she says with a shake of her head.

You sigh feeling downcast. Tonight will be no different than any other.

She places your tiara on your head and shows you the final results in the mirror and you wince. You hated wearing your crown, it always dug into your scalp. You are taken aback, you look gorgeous. You wear a deep red red off the shoulder gown. Gold and black lined your eyes and your lips were painted a deep blood red. You looked ethereal and prayed to the lunar goddess that tonight would be the night everything changed. You hate to get your hopes up but, maybe your mother was right, tonight would be different.

Your mother and your handmaidens left your room while you finished preparing for the ball. You looked at yourself one more time in the mirror gulping loudly.

“Here goes nothing”, you think to yourself as you go down the corridor leading to the ballroom. You enter the ballroom and feel a tinge of jealousy seeing your siblings dance with their fated mates.

“May I have this dance princess Y/N?”, a beta from his scent with long blonde hair and deep emerald eyes asks as he kneels before you.

Your throat constricts and your heart begins to pound in your chest as your nerves stand on end, “Is this the moment you think you’ve been waiting your entire life for?” you grasp his hand and nothing. You feel yourself fizzle out as yet another dud lands in your lap.

You put on your best fake smile, “I’d be delighted to dance with you”, you say as he takes you to the dance floor.

xoxo

You chug the rest of your ambrose wine as you feel defeated. Alpha and betas flocked to you all night in hopes of becoming the next leader of the Soleil kingdom but each one was a dud. After such disappointment you headed to the balcony to escape it all. You never felt the zing that your mother described. You can’t believe you allowed your mother’s words to get your hopes up. You go to take another chug into your mouth but are all out.

“Goddess damn it all, fuck it!”, you shout as you launch the cup into the garden. You don’t understand what was the point of being born an omega if you weren’t even going to have a fated mate. You feel scorned by the lunar goddess but, at the end of the day you just feel lonely. Tears stream down your face as you look up into the full moon. You begin to pray, “Lunar goddess please hear my plea. If I am meant to be with my fated mate please let them reveal themselves to me!”, you plead silently.

You’re met with silence and a gentle breeze blowing against you.

“Of course, I should’ve known my prayers would continue to go unanswered”, you say as you chuckle darkly. While you’re wallowing you hear a scream coming from the ballroom. You run back, while you may be mateless, one thing you did excel in was combat. With you approaching your 30s and being without a mate your father decided it was best to know how to defend yourself from those who would try to take advantage of a lack of a mate. You spent grueling months training with the knights of the kingdom to be skilled with your hands and swords.

You walked into the ballroom being an absolute bloodbath but it was easy to spot the culprits. It looks like this was an attack by the neighboring kingdom of ice elves. Things have been tense between the two kingdoms and it looks like they drew first blood. You step on something beneath you and look to see a dismembered arm on the ground. Actually now that you look around you see body parts of werewolves and ice elves all over. You pray that your loved ones are safe but, while you’re surveying the area an elf attacks you from behind knocking you into the ground. You quickly raise your hand to defend yourself and feel a sharp pain in your hand as the blade is stopped right above your eye. You quickly feel ice warp around the wound and great the elf has an enchanted sword. If you were one second late your eye would surely be gone, you’re not an alpha so there’s no way you would’ve been able to heal a wound like that. You’re also not nearly as strong as an alpha so you have to use your flexibility to use your legs to wrap around the elf’s neck and squeeze. He lets go of the knife and claws at your legs to no avail. He’s quickly knocked out and you take the sword out your hand with a grunt of pain. While you may be injured at least now you have a weapon.

You get up to see the fight has picked up and the amount of blood on the floor is causing people to slip. You look to see the leader of the holy knights, your best friend, a female alpha named Astrid, being backed into the corner by someone you’re assuming is leading this raid. Her sword lays to the side of the ground just out of reach. You cannot sit back and allow this to happen before your mind is even recognizing what’s going on your body is propelling forward and you are jumping in front of Astrid as the elves blade swings down.

“Y/N no!”, you hear your fathers distraught cry from the other side of the ballroom, him protecting your mother from the onslaught of elves that just keep coming.

You close your eyes preparing for the pain but, it never comes instead you feel electricity zip across your skin almost wait almost like a-

You open your eyes in shock and look at the alpha that’s towering over you while shielding you with his body and dagger.

“Oh my goddess, it’s you”, you say in awe. You can feel the sparks dancing between you two even with his back against you.

“Are you okay?”, a deep voice booms and it sends shivers up your spine.

All of a sudden you hear shouts, “It’s Alpha Sung Jinwoo!”, you hear whoops, hollers, and a few howls.

“It’s Alpha Sung Jinwoo we’re saved!”

“Alpha Sung please look at me”

“Alpha Sung has an army of shadow soldiers. Our numbers are now greater than theirs, now is the time to attack!”

With that there is a renewed sense of battle and the wolves and Jinwoo’s soldiers quickly turn the tide of the battle.

The man in front of you turns, kneels down, and caresses your cheek. Piercing blue eyes meet yours.

ZING!

[bloodyknucklesforme]

Pomegranate | Nikolai x F!Reader

Chapter 2

Your second meeting with Nikolai

cw: cw: dark fic, dubcon/noncon, reader is being trafficked, human trafficking, blow jobs, piv, abusive relationships, shower sex, he gives her alcohol to calm her down

Masterpost

You knew the drill this time. All your clothes taken off, this time folded, and left in a stack on the floor. The panties and bra he left you were still too small and were a light pink this time. He must have a collection somewhere, hopefully one he bought rather than gathered. The door beeped and unlocked. 

“Kotenok, come here,” He called down the hall from the living room. You hurried over, footsteps softened by the rugs he had laid everywhere. “Ahh, there you are. Prekrasnyy”

He was standing by the bar, shaking a cocktail, shirtless with his various tattoos on display. “Do you drink?”

“Not normally, Sir.” You stood next to the bar, hands at your side. He poured out the shaker into a glass and slid it over to you. 

“I don’t want you shaking as much tonight.” He gave you a pointed look till you picked up the glass and took a sip. It was fruity and strong, burning a bit as you swallowed.

“Thank you, Sir.” 

“Go wait for me on the couch.” He turned his back to grab another bottle off the shelf for his own drink. 

His house was always a bit cold, making your nipples hard and your skin pimple. Your feet were always cold since he never gave you shoes. A double edged sword considering how others had made you pace for hours wearing six inch and higher heels. 

You sat on the couch trying to seem sexy, back straight with your chest jutting out and a leg extended across the cushions. Just be an object, a pretty object for him to stick his fingers into. 

A hand gripped the back of your neck, not painfully but forcibly. He held you still as you gasped.

“Finish your drink, Kotenok.” He tilted your head back so your eyes were on him. You drank it down in three quick gulps, maintaining eye contact with him. You watched carefully for any sign of pleasure or approval but nothing came. “No more shaking, yes?”

You nodded and he let go of your neck. The liquor sloshed around in your stomach. He had a heavy pour that was clear. 

He sat down and motioned for you to come over. He guided you till your head was laying on his lap, face up towards the ceiling. He held your neck again, massaging the sides of it. He smelled like oud and musk and tobacco and gunpowder.

“You fuck anyone else today?” He asked, taking a sip from his own drink glass. 

“Yes, Sir.” Don’t shake, you screamed at yourself. “I cleaned myself before coming. I remembered how you like it.”

He gave you a pleased sigh,  “Good girl.”

You tensed up as he sat his drink down on your forehead. “Don’t spill.”

One of his thumbs forced its way into your mouth, his ring catching on your teeth. You dug your nails into your legs, transferring all your anxious energy to other parts of your body. Both your hands fit around his one, holding it gently while you sucked on his finger. Condensation from his glass dripped down onto your forehead. 

“Are you afraid of me, Kotenok?” He asked, pulling his finger from your mouth only to flick it against one of your nipples. You bit down on your tongue to stop yourself from flinching. 

“No, Sir.” His hand trailed down to rest on your stomach. You avoided looking at him, not wanting to see if he caught your lie. You were in his den, laying between his teeth, praying he wouldn’t clamp down. You knew enough about the men who paid Arno to know he was dangerous. Outside of these meetings he exchanged blood for gold. The security, the art, the liquor, the sheets all cost money. A lot of money. The tattoos were the same you saw on Russian mobsters. 

“Are you afraid of Arno?”

Yes. Arno was in charge of the club, of you, and the rest of the girls. He was the one who trapped you into debt, threatened your safety if you tried to flee. His threats weren’t empty. A couple months ago a girl got as far as Glasgow before being dragged back here. He gathered everyone into the main club room and broke her legs. You never saw her again. You imagine she went to one of the clients that paid extra to break their toys. 

Arno slapped you across the face once because he thought you gave him a dirty look. He rarely fucked any of his girls. His drug habit prevented him from getting hard so it was more to save himself embarrassment than a lack of desire. On good days he kept to himself in his office.

“Kotenok, answer my question.” His fingers flexed against your stomach, claws ready to come out and gut you. 

“Yes,” you said meekly. 

“He take the money I gave you?”

“No.” It was tucked away safely in the lining of your coat. You told no one about it. A hundred years ago the Romanov girls sewed jewels into their petticoats. It caused the bullets to ricochet around the room when they were killed. Pound notes wouldn’t protect you the same but the coat was yours. You slept in it most nights, a better blanket than you’d ever been given. 

“Good.” He patted your stomach. “He’s a fucking siklo.”

“What does that mean?” The question slipped out before you could stop yourself.

“He’s a pussy,” he chuckled. “You can tell him I said that. Might not work well for you if you do though.”

He took the glass off your head and downed it one gulp. He took your chin between two fingers and turned your head to his crotch. He stopped you from sliding off the couch to get between his legs. “Want you up here with me.”

It was an awkward angle as you rolled over onto your stomach. His hand rubbed circles on your ass as you undid his trousers. You looked up at him through your eyelashes as you rubbed his cock through his boxers. His head was already tilted back, eyes closed. 

You wondered if you could bite his throat hard enough to kill before he could stop you. You took an anatomy class once, the vein was right up front, right? That’s where they always cut in movies. He’d kill you before he died or someone else would kill you afterwards. You could get a lick in before that. Get an ounce of flesh for revenge before he cracks your skull under his foot. 

He pinched your ass. You’d stopped moving.

“Sorry, Kolya.” You kissed his cock through the fabric. 

He hummed pleasantly, eyes still closed. You stroked him to half hardness before taking his tip into your mouth. You bobbed your head, sucking on his tip when you went up. He groaned softly, bucking his hips up as you took him deeper and deeper. His breath hitched when you licked his slit. He pinched your ass again when you took him out of your mouth completely, only to rub the spot apologetically when you took his balls into your mouth, stroking his length with your free hand. 

“Want to come in your mouth, Kotenok.” A hand tangled in your hair and pulled you upwards. You took him back into your mouth, lavishing your tongue around the head of his cock. His groaning turned to growls. He flooded your mouth with hot salt. He held your head still, lazily thrusting his twitching cock down your throat. 

When he moved his hand you finally pulled yourself off him and laid your head sideways on his thigh. 

His thumb tugged your lower lip down, opening your mouth for him to look inside. You stuck your tongue out, showing you swallowed him. 

“Did they feed you tonight?”

“I’m not hungry.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

“No, sir. They didn’t.” 

He sighed, “Arno never takes care of his girls.”

He moved you off his lap and left. Your head was busy. You didn’t know what to think of him. He had been kind but you weren’t here because you wanted to be and he knew that. He knew Arno made money off your rape. He paid for it and presumably for the pleasure to do the same to other girls before you. You told yourself to remember that. No matter how nice he was to you, he was not a good man. He’d just as soon kill you as fuck you.

You sat up when he reentered the room, a plate in hand. A chicken breast and some roasted vegetables. Your mouth watered. Food at the club was protein bars and whatever snacks you could get your hands on. You didn’t remember the last time you ate meat. 

“Eat. You’ll need the energy.”

“Thank you.” You said, taking the plate as carefully as you could. Part of you was afraid he’d snatch it back before you could get one bite in. You ate slowly or so you thought.

“Hungry, Kotenok?” He chuckled.

“I’m sorry.” You rested your fork on the plate, face turning hot.

“Don’t be. You need to eat. Finish your meal.” He nodded at you.

You sat cross legged beside him, moaning as the juice from the chicken hit your tongue. He rubbed the back of your neck. There was a fascination in his eyes like he’d never seen someone eat before. 

“You don’t go hungry when you’re here, understood? I don’t want to hear your stomach growling when I’m trying to sleep.”

You nodded as you swallowed a mouth full of veggies. He wiped the corner of your mouth, “Good girl.”

When you finished eating he tucked you under his arm and turned on the news. His fingers played with the elastic of your panties. He leaned in to press his lips to your hairline, “Touch yourself. I want you wet for me.” 

You might have played it up, breathing heavy against his side as you played with your clit. Two fat, ringed fingers pushed their way into your mouth. You remembered his words from last week, “I don’t like liars.” You quieted down, sucking on his fingers obediently. His arm kept you pinned to him in a pseudo headlock. The hair of his arm tickled your face. You felt a pulse in your cunt, liquid heat pooling inside you. Last week’s lube was a courtesy, you understood that now. You rolled your hips a little, grinding against your hand. 

His cock was still out. You watched him grow larger and perk up under the curve of his stomach. Drool was seeping out around his fingers and dripping down your chin onto his leg. He hooked one of his fingers against the corner of your lips and pulled, letting a cascade of drool pour out with a chuckle.

“Want you to ride me, Kotenok.” He wiped his wet fingers on your stomach.

Straddling him on the couch was when you first became aware of how small you were to him. There was a burn in the muscles of your thighs. Your hips fit perfectly into his hands as he lowered you down on his cock. You held his shoulders tight, gasping and whining as each inch disappeared inside you. His eyes were dark, pupils blown out. It was a hungry look. Men often looked like they wanted to devour you, he was the first who might actually be able to do so. 

He let you take a moment as you sat flush with his hips. He rubbed your spine, murmuring in Russian against your cheek as he laid small kisses. He’d never kissed you before. You hadn’t moved yet and your thighs were shaking. You felt overstuffed, your pussy clenching around him as it adjusted. You let out a shuddered breath. 

He leaned back, arms stretched out across the back of the couch as you started to roll your hips. You tucked your head under his chin, riding his cock. Your ass smacking against his thighs. The head of his cock dragged against your walls and you couldn’t help but keen when his cock bumped against that spot inside you. 

“Yebat,” he groaned, a hand slapping against your ass. He suddenly gripped your hips and started thrusting up into you. “Pussy fucking made for me.”

You dug your nails into his shoulders, “Kolya…fuck…Kolya.”

Part of you hated how good his cock felt inside you. Hated that this is what you had to do to survive now. Hated how you shivered when his stubble rubbed against your cheek when he nipped at your earlobe. Hated how vulnerable you were yet you were moaning wantonly on his cock.

You slipped a hand between your legs to rub your clit, scissoring it between two fingers. His hot breath skated across your face,“Going to come on my cock again?”

“Yes, Kolya,” You cried. You hardly knew how to discern between pretend and actual pleasure anymore. What want really was. You did want to come but you’d rather be alone with a toy between your legs rather than riding the cock of a large Russian man. A large calloused hand gently pushed yours away and began to rub your clit with fervor. 

“Come.” He ordered. You melted in his hold, your teeth dragging against his chest. Your thighs gave out, collapsing you fully on his cock. He fucked you through your orgasm, muttering about how tight you were. “Going to fill you up, Kotenok.”

He grabbed your hair and pulled your head backwards, your chins touching. “Open your mouth,” he breathed. You did and he spit into it. You kept your eyes on him as you swallowed. He grunted loudly, cum filling any space left in your cunt. 

He slumped against the couch while you did the same against his chest. His heart was beating wildly under the hair and tattoos. 

He kept you on his cock, lighting his cigar as he went soft inside you. You wrapped your arms around his neck and laid your head under his chin. He smelled good. You tried to let yourself relax. He’d turned the news off at some point, letting the two of you sit in silence. He laughed softly. You glanced up and he was staring down at you.

“You’ve made a mistake.” You opened your mouth to apologize, confused as to what you could have done in this moment. “You’ve made me like you too much. Going to call you back every Tuesday. You’re a good cocksleeve.” 

He made you another drink and then another. Then fucked you on the floor doggy style. He fucked your throat again after turning on a football match. You started to lose track of what was happening when he pushed you down onto the floor again. Several hours later you were splayed out on the rug, cum dripping out of you and “Kolya” coming out like a mantra. He heaved you up and over his shoulder.

“Did I tire you?” He chuckled, smacking your ass. Your head rolled listlessly as he carried you upstairs. 

He wiped you clean with a warm wet rag before pulling the comforter over you. You drifted off quickly. His bed was soft and warm, much more comfortable than the cot you slept on in the club’s basement. A lot of men didn’t let you sleep in their bed. One even handcuffed you to the couch for the night so he could sleep without worry. You woke up an hour later with Kolya’s arm around your middle, his nose buried in your hair. He didn’t grumble when you got up to drink water or use the bathroom. Only beckoned you back to him, pulling the covers back over the two of you. 

At one point woke up to him pulling one of your legs over his hips, cock sliding between your folds. 

“Go back to sleep,” he whispered. “Want you like this.”

Exhaustion pulled you back under easily even with his hips hitting your ass and his hand groping your breast.  

You woke up alone in bed. No tea left for you on the side table. Through the bathroom door you heard the shower running. You dragged yourself out of bed and to the bathroom, knocking on the door.

“Come in!” He called. 

The bathroom was so full of steam you could barely make sense of where anything was. A wet hand reached out and grabbed your wrist, pulling you into the shower. He pinned you to the wall of the shower while kissing you sloppily. It felt intimate in a way you weren’t familiar with. He cradled your face while stealing the air from your lungs. His knee slid between your legs and you felt his cock on your thigh.

“Dobroye utro,” he purred.

“Good morning…?” You guessed his words. 

“You learn quickly,” He grinned. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him, opening your mouth for his tongue to slide in. Kissing clients was not a regular occurrence, wanting to kiss them back never happened. Yet here you were, moaning softly as his tongue tangled with yours. He rolled one of your nipples between his fingers. “Want you again.”

He fucked you against the shower wall, your legs wrapped around his middle as he bucked into you. You were sure you’d cut open his back with your nails. He sucked a mark against the crook of your neck. He moaned when you tugged on his hair. He came on the tiles only to pin you to them again and rub your clit till you were jelly. 

“You’re shaking again.” He said, holding you by an arm around your waist as he cleaned you both up with a washcloth. 

“I’m hungry,” you answered, honestly.

“Let’s get breakfast, then, yes?”

He got you a plush robe to wear.. He padded around the kitchen in his boxers. From your place atop the counter you watched him make batter and pour a small amount into a pan. He was making you crepes. 

His phone started ringing and he sighed as he looked at the screen. 

“Go wait in the dining room for me, okay, Kotenok.” You nodded and left quickly, hearing him switch to Russian on the phone. He sounded upset and you wondered if you were going to actually get food before leaving. 

You sat to the right of the head chair, resting your chin on the table as you waited. You could hear him get loud every so often. 

“Eat up and I’ll call your car.” He laid a plate in front of you. Two crepes layered with strawberry jam and whipped cream. He was tense, you could tell by the way his hand held the plate. 

“Everything okay?” A dangerous question. It was none of your business. Nothing to concern yourself with. You added quickly, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.” 

“No, you shouldn’t have.” He rested a hand between your shoulder blades, at the base of your neck. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. My Kotenok’s just worried about me, yes?”

You nodded, looking up through your lashes. Sweet as a lamb you could be. Don’t shake. Don’t shake.  You took his hand and kissed his rings, “Yes, Kolya.”

“Eat your food.”He ordered, sitting down beside you with a cup of espresso in hand. 

“Thank you, Kolya.”

The bottom of one crepe was burnt. You ate it without a word.

He walked you to the front door this time. Kissed your shoulder as he took the robe off. 

“For you,” he handed you another stack of hundred pound notes. Six this time. You held it close to your chest. 

He pushed your hair from your face and kissed your cheek. “See you next week.”

He shut the door behind you, locking you out. You put your clothes on as quickly as you could before shoving the notes into the lining of your coat with the rest. 

The car was idling outside. 

“Hurry up,” Abel snapped. He was one of several drivers Arno had on hand. He was also the meanest. Acted like he was dropping off and picking up girls from the lap of luxury instead of the equivalent of a haunted house.

You stayed quiet in the backseat. You’d forgotten one of your socks.

You were hurried into the back door. Men and other girls moving around chaotically..

Someone grabbed your upper arm and yanked you roughly into a side room.

“At least he hasn’t fucked up your face,” Marcus said, holding your chin and moving your head around roughly. Despite being the reason you were in this situation he was still aggressively possessive of you. Hands clenched in fists whenever he saw you head to a client’s. “Whatever you did, Arno’s pissed. Expected to see you with broken teeth when you got back. ” 

“I…I didn’t do anything. He said he wanted to see me again.” You didn’t know his actual name. Kolya had to have been a diminutive of something but you didn’t know enough Russian to guess. He ripped the letter from your hands. He had sealed it with wax. Funny honestly. Probably knew that every man in this building was itching to climb over another for an extra dollar. 

“Let’s find out for sure, then.”

He dragged you down the hall in a bruising grip. 

“Arno! The Fixer’s bitch is back!” He knocked on the office door.

“Marcus, stop!” You hissed. You didn’t want to be in a room with Arno during one of his bad moods especially not if Marcus was intent on making it worse. 

The door opened. Arno barely scraped six feet tall but he was thin with a square jaw and blue eyes that always seemed blown out. It was no secret he had a nasty coke habit. He always looked a little strung out, a little manic. 

“There she is. ” He hung onto the frame of the door, looking over you and Marcus. He always seemed surprised to see you, like he forgot he’d imprisoned you. He grabbed the front of your coat and pulled you into the office with Marcus at your heels. 

You were shoved onto the couch in the office. Marcus sitting next to you with an arm around your shoulders, holding you against him.

Arno sat on his desk, seething.

“You know what Nikolai said to me today?”

“I don’t know.” You answered meekly, wringing your hands in your lap.

“He’s fucking giving me orders now. Said you weren’t allowed to fuck anyone twenty four hours before going to visit him.” Arno let out an incredulous laugh and threw his hands into the air. 

“He didn’t say anything to me.” You tried to assure. You never rocked the boat, just held onto your oar and hoped your life preserver worked. Marcus grabbed your arm roughly, almost pulling you into his lap. 

“I don’t believe you. I think you’re trying to milk him for everything. You suck his cock extra good? He’s sweet on you now?” Marcus laughed and pulled on your cheek. “Maybe I’ll send you back to him with my cum dripping out of you. How do you like that?”

“I didn’t ask for that.” You pleaded, looking at Arno desperately for some relief from Marcus’s taunts.

“He’s fucking with me,” Arno sighed, rubbing his face harshly. “He’s fucking fucking with me!”

He angrily slapped the lamp off his desk, sending it shattering against the wall. You leaned back against the couch. You had to get out of this room. 

Marcus released you and leaned back on the couch. “Just don’t send her back. What’s the old cunt going to do?”

“You’re a fucking idiot, Marcus.” Arno glared. You bit your tongue to hold back a laugh. “You know I can’t do that. We need his money. That’s why he’s fucking with us. Probably doesn’t even like her that much.”

“Hear that? Don’t get attached.” Marcus pulled on your cheek again. “Nikolai will dump you in a ditch soon enough. Right, Arno?”

He stared at you, blinking slowly, his brow furrowing in anger. He must have forgotten you were there. His brain barely making connections with his own eyes. 

“Get her out of here, Marcus! What the fuck is she even doing here!” Marcus jumped up and pulled you with him. “She shouldn’t be hearing any of this!”

“Sorry. You know how these sluts are. Nosey cunts” He shoved you out of the office, growling close to your face, “Wait for me in my office.”

His ‘office’ was a storage closet with an old desk in it. The door was slammed in your face. He was going to punish you for his own humiliation.  

Through your coat you felt the notes. You would get out of here. You would be your best for Nikolai. He would keep paying you and you’d get out of here. Get on a plane and never be seen again. You were getting out.  

[roosterforme]

Deployment Sucks but I Swallow | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley was used to having your undivided attention when he was about to leave for a long deployment, because you'd been spoiling him that way for years. When you spent the day with your friends and got home late instead, he wanted to be annoyed, but everything you do is just too sweet. 

Warnings: Fluff, language, oral, Rooster loves getting blowjobs from his wife, 18+

Length: 3200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @thedroneranger

"Seriously?" Bradley muttered as he sat on his living room couch all alone with a beer in one hand and the remote in the other. This was his last night at home for the next four months, and you should have been here with him. You said you were having a late Sunday brunch with some friends and then coming home, but now it was dinnertime. He would be boarding an aircraft carrier tomorrow, Valentine's Day, at five in the morning, and he wouldn't be home until June. And yet you were still out with your friends while he stared at the enormous bouquet of roses on the coffee table that he got for you.

Every time he took a sip of his beer, the flash of his gold wedding band made him even more irritated. You'd never been like this in the past. Even before you and he got married, you would make a big fuss over him for several days leading up to his departure. He'd gotten used to that special treatment. He literally thrived when you used to run your fingers through his hair and tell him over and over again how much you were going to miss him the night before he left. And now that you weren't here in his lap, loving all over him, he was actually kind of pissed off about it.

He dug his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it, and tried his best not to be too snarky when he texted you again. 

Do you think you'll be home soon?

He waited twenty-one minutes for a response as the sky outside darkened even more and his patience waned further. "You're spoiled," he admitted out loud. But it was completely all your fault, because you'd overindulged him with your love for so long that now he was pouting when you finally wrote back.

On my way! I'll pick up dinner!

He groaned. If you were going to stop for food, it would take you even longer to get here, but he hadn't made anything, because he thought you'd have been home hours ago. So he texted you back the one thing that he knew would get his irritation across.

Fine.

But even that didn't seem to do anything, because you were all smiles when you floated through the front door thirty-four minutes later with a cardboard box in one hand and a bag from his favorite takeout place in the other. And you looked to damn gorgeous, he felt his resolve slipping. 

"Sorry I'm so late!" you said with a laugh. "I had such a long day."

Bradley tracked your movements from the couch with narrowed eyes. "Yeah. Me too. I thought you'd be home five hours ago."

"I completely lost track of time," you told him as your eyes settled on the roses. "Are those for me?"

"Happy Valentine's Day," he mumbled with a shrug, annoyed by the way his heart skipped a beat when you smiled at him like he was your only source of happiness in the world. But he couldn't bite his tongue as you set the box down and brought the food over to him with a smile. "What did you do after brunch? You were gone forever."

You nibbled on your lip as you ran your finger along one of the rose petals. "I was hanging out with Erika Fitch and Morgan Floyd for a little bit. We went to Erika and Reuben's house. I'm really sorry it took so long."

Bradley wanted to keep pouting and being cranky, especially since it sounded like Payback got to see more of you on Bradley's last day before deployment than he did. But when you bent to smell the flowers before dropping the takeout bag onto the table, you moaned his name softly before easing yourself down onto his lap. 

"Baby," he whispered, melting into your touch as soon as your fingers were in his hair. And then your lips found his, and he wasn't sure why he'd been so upset with you. You felt perfect in his arms, and you smelled sweet.

"I love you, Bradley," you whispered, and he buried his nose against your neck and inhaled. 

"You smell so fucking good," he moaned. "So sweet. Like candy. Delicious."

"Do I?" you asked coyly, raking your fingers back through his hair. "Or did you just miss me all day?"

"Baby, you know I'm spoiled," he groaned as you reached for his jeans zipper. "I wanted to spend the afternoon with you. I'm leaving tomorrow. For four months this time." 

"I know. I didn't give you enough attention today, did I?" you whispered as you eased the zipper down. "I'm really, really sorry. I wanted to, but I got sidetracked making you something sweet. I always want to be with you on your last day at home."

He kissed along your neck and breathed in the incredible scent again. "You made me something sweet? You smell like something sweet. Makes me want to taste you everywhere."

Bradley could hear the smile in your voice as he licked your collarbone while you eased your hand inside his underwear and wrapped your hand around his cock. "Your dinner will get cold if you don't eat it now," you whispered. 

"I don't care. I want my wife."

You moaned his name again, and that sweet scent was everywhere. "Then take me to bed, Lieutenant Bradshaw." Bradley's senses were filled with you as he carried you into the bedroom, and he swore he could smell chocolate as he undressed you. Your skin was extra sweet, and the scent clung to your hair.

"I don't know how you've made me this crazy for you," he whispered as he yanked his shirt off, "but I swear you smell like chocolate. Everywhere."

You giggled as you started to pull his jeans down, kneeling in front of him. "I know it's your favorite kind of snack."

"Incorrect," he grunted as you licked his cock before he stepped out of his pants and underwear. "My wife is my favorite kind of snack."

You took him between your parted lips and sucked on him like a lollipop before you whispered, "You're allowed dessert before dinner tonight."

Then Bradley had you underneath him in bed, your hands pinned to the pillow above your head as he licked your neck. "Next time I'm leaving, I want you with me all damn day. No brunch. No hanging with the girls."

You moaned his name as he slipped himself inside your wetness. "Anything you want. Anything."

He pressed his lips to yours as he filled you completely. "I want you."

--------------------------

Leaving the house with you at four in the morning on Monday was hard enough for Bradley, but the way you clung to him in the Bronco while he drove was making it so much worse. You had that box you brought home with you yesterday at your feet while he steered through the silent darkness. 

"I'm going to miss you so much," you whispered as the aircraft carrier came into view. "Four months is such a long time."

He was just happy you got home at dinnertime last night and let him love you nonstop. He hadn't stopped touching you long enough to reheat his dinner until almost midnight, and even then, you were nearby. Right now he was exhausted, but he'd have ample time to catch up on sleep when he didn't have his perfect wife with him.

"These four months are going to suck," he whispered as he parked near the docks, happy he'd given himself extra time to hold you before he had to board the carrier. "Happy Valentine's Day, Baby." When you unbuckled your seatbelt and crawled toward his lap, he groaned. "You still smell like chocolate."

"Do I?" you whispered with a smile as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

With his nose buried in your hair, he asked, "Is it a new perfume or something? Because I definitely don't hate it."

Your soft laughter filled the interior of the Bronco as you shook your head. "No, it's not perfume. It's actually chocolate. I told you I made you something sweet."

Bradley was nibbling on your ear, his cock twitching in his khakis as your thigh pressed against his length. "What did you make?" he mumbled mindlessly, but then you were pulling away from him. He was scrambling to keep you in his lap where he wanted you, but you were leaning down to grab the box from the floor. You set it on the passenger seat and smiled at him as you reached inside. 

"I made you candy bars," you said, handing him a thick piece of sweet smelling chocolate that was wrapped up in clear plastic. "Sixteen of them. One for each week that you'll be gone."

Bradley examined the candy in his hand and smiled as he looked up at you. "It says World's Best Husband on it."

"That's because you are," you told him, kissing his cheek. "Happy Valentine's Day. I'm going to miss you so much."

He was sure he was starting to blush in the predawn darkness as you handed him another one that said I'm So Sweet On You. "Oh," he whispered. "Erika and Morgan helped you make these yesterday, didn't they?"

"Yes," you told him as he tipped the box to look inside at the rest. They were all unique with white candies used for the lettering. He picked up one that said I Love Rooster and another that said Thinking About You. 

"I love these, Baby. Thank you," he muttered as he kissed your chin. "I'm sorry I got snippy with you last night."

You ran your fingers through his hair just the way he liked and said, "The girls and I didn't think it would take so long to make them. I wanted to be home with you all day yesterday. I promise."

He wrapped his left arm around you and pulled you snug against him as he pulled one more candy bar out of the box. When he read it, he smirked and held it up for you to read, too. His voice was deep as he asked, "Did you really make me a candy bar that says Deployment Sucks but I Swallow? In front of the girls?"

You bit your lip and wiggled yourself around on his lap, clearly knowing what that would do to him. "Reuben and Bob saw it too. I've never seen Bob blush so much in my life."

Bradley's cock throbbed against you, somehow even more turned on by the fact that his friends knew you were thinking about sucking him dry. "Fuck," he grunted, running his thumb over the letters that spelled out his dirty Valentine's Day message. He glanced around and found that while other cars had started to arrive, it was still pretty dark outside. So he looked you in the eye with one eyebrow raised and rasped, "Why don't you prove it?"

You took the bar from him and set it back in the box with the others. "Right here?" you asked, running your hands down his khaki shirt and over his pins as you leaned in closer to him. Your lips were skimming the scars on his neck as you added, "Right now?" But he could tell you were absolutely into the idea as your fingers found his belt while you kissed your way up to his ear. "I would love to."

You were moaning softly as you opened the fly of his uniform pants and carefully pulled his hardening length free. Bradley eased the seat back as you worked your familiar hand slowly up and down his length, making him jump in anticipation as he kissed your lips. Another car parked directly across from him, and you were illuminated by headlights as you moved the box from the seat back to the floor and ducked down. 

"Fuck," he grunted, tucking his hands behind his head as the headlights went out and your lips met his cock. "God, you're such a good girl." You were stretched across the seat on your belly, and he could already tell you were going to take your time, just like he wanted. There was a full thirty minutes left with you after all. The Bronco smelled like chocolate, and your mouth was warm around him as he whispered, "Nice and slow."

You moaned in agreement, nodding your head as you took him deeper and deeper. Bradley's head tipped back as he inhaled and exhaled slowly. You dragged your thumb down gently between his balls as he tapped the back of your throat, and you held him in place for a few beats. Now he was starting to doubt that he could last as long as he wanted to when you felt this incredible. He felt you gag softly as you started to ease back, and he could see stars at the edges of his vision. 

"Holy shit."

When you withdrew him, he could feel your saliva dripping down his length onto his pants. You licked at his tip and rubbed soft circles along his balls with your fingertips. You knew just how he wanted it, and he was like melted chocolate in your capable hands and mouth.

When you popped him free, your voice was soft and needy. "You better think of this when you eat that candy bar," you whispered, glancing up at him as his length rubbed your cheek.

Bradley let one hand drift down to the back of your neck. "I always think about you, but I'll be thinking about this on replay, Baby. Sweet chocolate and blowjobs from my wife."

You giggled as you took him between your lips again, and the soft vibrations had him thrusting up for more. His fingers were digging into your neck a little bit as he tried to get control of himself while you bobbed. Someone walked past the Bronco as he moaned, but he literally couldn't care less. The back of your head had never looked so appealing before as you got sloppier, every thrust met with wet sounds that only made him throb. 

He was gripping his own hair now as well while you pushed his hips back against the seat. "Baby," he whined as you treated him to the swirl of your tongue at the base of his cock. "I'm gonna miss you."

You nodded and moaned again, and Bradley reached out to grip the steering wheel in an effort to keep himself still while you worked your magic. With every tap of his cock against the back of your throat, his balls tightened until it was almost painful. "No, no, no," he whispered. "Not yet." 

You responded by slowing your pace incrementally, dragging your lips along his full length and sucking until he popped free. "But you taste so good," you whispered up at him with a grin. "I want you to come in my mouth."

He shook his head, mesmerized by you as you nuzzled your face against his cock and balls. "Jesus," he groaned, reaching for the back of your head and stroking your hair. "You wanna taste me?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed loudly in the small space as he shoved his cock between your lips. 

"You better swallow it all down," he grunted. "Just like you promised."

With your hands wrapped around his base, you squeezed him gently, sucking just right as you ran your tongue back and forth. He was grunting unintelligibly, hips jerking off the seat slightly as his head fell back against the headrest. 

"That's my girl. That's my girl," he whined, doing his best to keep his hand gentle against your head as you took him right up to his orgasm. Then you removed your hands, and as soon as you took him deep, your lips brushing his pubic hair and his balls, he came. "Baby!" he moaned, thrusting gently as you sputtered. He didn't want you to waste it. He wanted you to get every single drop. 

Bradley tipped his head forward and watched you swallow him down as you made sweet little sounds, the smell of the chocolate bars still in the air. You licked around his tip and cleaned him up as your gaze met his, and Bradley whispered, "I love you so much," as he caught his breath.

"I love you, too," you promised him as he pulled you back up to sit on his lap. Bradley tasted his cum in your mouth when he kissed you and cradled you against his body. "I'll miss you like crazy, and I'll be living for your calls. And I can't wait to spoil you when you get home again."

You kissed him all over his face as he whispered, "I love how much you've spoiled me. I'll be thinking about you nonstop, Baby."

A few minutes later, Bradley wiped away your tears and kissed your cheeks one last time before he boarded the aircraft carrier, and he watched you disappear into the distance with the dock as the sun rose behind you. He had one candy bar for every week he'd be away from you, and he couldn't wait to read the rest of them once he got to his bunk.

----------------------------

You were waiting very impatiently on the dock for your husband to join you on dry land once again. Your palms were sweating as you held onto two candy bars all wrapped up in plastic, hoping they wouldn't melt too badly. You texted him to let him know where you were standing, and now you just had to wait. And wait. You'd already gone four months without him, so this was just cruel. 

Every facetime call had been the highlight of your week while he was away. Bradley had been sure to tell you which candy bar he'd enjoyed that week, laughing about what you'd written on all of them. One time, he even ate the bar that said Hottest Guy in the Navy on it while he talked to you. 

You couldn't wait to take him home and spend days catching up with everything you and he had missed while you were apart. But first you needed to be in his arms. Then you heard him calling your name, and you almost dropped the candy bars as your husband made his way toward you. 

"Bradley!" you shouted, and then you were in his arms, and his lips were on yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck, careful not to drop his treats. "I missed you!" 

"I love you, Baby," he rasped, kissing his way back to your ear. "How the hell do you still smell like chocolate?" he asked, and you erupted into giggles. 

"Because I made you more candy bars," you told him as you found his lips with yours again. 

He kissed you until you were breathless, and then he pressed his nose to your cheek as he said, "I'm so damn spoiled. What did you make for me this time?" You smiled and held up the two candy bars, and he read them out loud. "I still suck.... Want me to prove it?"

Bradley's brown eyes went wide, and his crooked grin left you giddy. "Well?" you asked. "Should we go home so you can find out for sure?"

"Hell yes," he whined, hauling you and his bag and the candy toward the parking lot. "My deployment sucked, but you suck so much better, Baby."

----------------------------

Happy Valentine's Day! It's not my favorite holiday personally, so I thought I'd make Bradley stress a little bit. Make sure you hug an aviator today! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[procyonloser]

Adam was waiting for Lucifer to show up to their meeting, which was always an exercise in frustration. Lucifer always fucking cancelled, with some bullshit made up reason, and he'd send someone else in his stead. Lilith, one of the sins, he once had Charlie do it when she was like 4, which Adam wagered she didn't remember.

He spun his pen around between his fingers, then tried balancing it on his nose, before it fell and rolled under the table. Adam huffed and leaned down, realizing how far the fucker had actually gone. He grumbled, getting on his hands and knees to reach out and grab the pen, but when he tried to get back up, the horns of his mask caught on the curved gold supports under the table. Adam cursed, trying to wiggle free, but it just wouldn't go. Why the fuck was Lute on leave today, her ass should have been the one getting his pen-

"........Adam? I uh can't tell if that's you from...behind."

Motherfucker! Of all times Lucifer actually decides to show up, after ten thousand fucking years out trying to get him in a meeting, this was the only time he actually turned up?!

"I actually fucking hate you! Go die!" Adam yelled, trying to push against the table, but his head was good and stuck. He tried taking off his mask, but it was such an enclosed space he couldn't get it off. He struggled and struggled, but nothing was happening.

"Fucking help me or I'll burn down your awful fuckin' theme park!" Adam barked out, using anger to hide the fact this was actually the most embarrassing thing to have happened to him, and he was including eating the apple and realizing he was fully wang out his entire life.

"Okay, okay, goodness you really need to work on that temper..." Lucifer said, before hands landed on Adam's hips. He pulled, and Adam only went back a bit, but it didn't free him. He tried again, and again, until he was just rocking them back and forth. Lucifer's grip dug into his flesh as they rocked, but it didn't seem to be doing much.

"Fuck, Lucifer." Adam whined, starting to feel claustrophobic. "It's too much! You've got to do it harder!"

"I...um," Lucifer started, sounding a bit off. "I need to... go. Right now, right away. Good luck, Adam! I'll see you next time! Maybe!"

"Wait- what?! Don't leave me here, asshole!" Adam panicked, but suddenly the room was quiet. Then it went dark as the lights went out.

"... Fuck."

[meeraonpole]

Love,Lando(unfortunately)

The Discovery

Moving in together was supposed to be a fresh start. A big step. Something romantic. What it was not supposed to be, was the most embarrassing moment of your entire existence.

You were unpacking the last of your moving boxes, humming softly, when Lando’s voice echoed from the hallway.

“Oh, what do we have here?”

You looked up, finding him crouched next to a box labeled Memories in your messy handwriting. His mischievous grin made your stomach drop.

“Lando,” you warned, narrowing your eyes.

“Ohhh, this looks juicy.” He pulled out a stack of folded, slightly crumpled papers, flipping through them dramatically. “Wait… are these—are these love letters?”

Your blood ran cold. You knew exactly what they were. The teenage love letters you wrote to him before you ever even met.

“Oh my god, no. No.” You lunged for them, but Lando was faster. He shot up, holding them above his head like a trophy, his laughter echoing around the apartment.

“Dear Lando,” he read, in an exaggerated, dreamy voice. “I think you are so cool. Like, ridiculously cool. Like, if I ever met you, I’d probably faint.”

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. “Lando, I swear—”

“Oh, this is gold,” he continued, dodging your attempts to snatch the letters. “Your curls? Perfect. Your driving? Flawless. Your face? Angelic.”

He gasped dramatically. “Wow, angelic, huh?”

You wanted the floor to swallow you whole. “I was sixteen, Lando! Sixteen-year-olds are delusional!”

But Lando was having way too much fun. He plopped down onto the couch, still grinning, and unfolded another letter.

“Okay, this one is titled—oh my god—‘My Future with Lando Norris.’” He burst out laughing, clutching his stomach. “Babe, you manifested me?”

“I hate you.”

“Oh no, no, no—this is adorable,” he teased. “Did you plan our whole life out? How many kids do we have? Do we have a dog?”

You groaned, shoving a pillow over your face. “Please stop.”

But Lando was having too much fun. “It says here that we get married in Monaco and I win five world championships before we retire to a beach house.” He glanced up, smirking. “Only five, huh? Bit rude.”

You grabbed another pillow and hurled it at him. He dodged, still grinning like a menace.

“Ohhh, and this one—this one is peak teenage girl,” he said, clearing his throat. “’Lando, if you’re reading this… it means we are soulmates. Or I’m dead from embarrassment. Probably the second one.’”

You threw yourself at him, trying once again to snatch the letters, but Lando just cackled and held them out of reach.

“You know, I should be offended you thought we’d never meet,” he said, tapping his chin. “But clearly, fate had other plans.”

“Shut up!”

“Nah, I think I’m gonna frame these,” he said, winking. “Maybe read them in my next Twitch stream?”

That got you moving. “LANDO NORRIS, I SWEAR TO—”

You tackled him, wrestling the letters from his grip as he laughed uncontrollably beneath you.

The Revenge

For the next week, Lando did not let it go.

At breakfast? “Would you like some tea, my angelic-faced soulmate?”

While gaming? “Chat, did you know my girlfriend wrote love letters about me before we met? Manifestation queen.”

In the car? “So, do I get my five championships or should I settle for four?”

You knew you had to get back at him.

So, one night, while he was asleep, you dug into his childhood boxes (which he had stupidly left open) and found exactly what you were looking for—his old diary.

The next morning, you strolled into the kitchen, holding up his journal with a smug grin.

Lando’s eyes widened. “Where did you—”

You flipped it open. “Let’s see… oh wow, ‘Lando’s Super Secret Life Goals.’ This should be interesting.”

“Wait, wait—babe, let’s talk about this.”

You ignored him. “Number one: ‘Become an F1 driver.’ Cute.” You flipped the page. “Number two: ‘Beat Lewis Hamilton.’ Ambitious.” You turned to the next one, smirking. “Number three: ‘Marry a really pretty girl who laughs at my jokes.’”

Lando groaned, covering his face. “Oh god.”

“Sounds like you manifested me too, huh?” You winked.

He peeked through his fingers. “…I hate you.”

“No, no, you love me,” you teased. “It’s written in fate. Or in our teenage diaries.”

Lando sighed, pulling you into his lap. “Fine. Truce.”

You grinned. “Only if you admit my letters were adorable.”

He groaned dramatically but kissed your temple. “Fine. Maybe just a little.”

“Good,” you whispered, snuggling into him. “Because I still think your curls are perfect.”

Lando groaned again. “Oh my god.”

You just laughed. Maybe your sixteen-year-old self was onto something after all.

Valentine's day specialll

Hope yall enjoyed

[gabessquishytum]

Hob is happy serving up good food and feeding people comfort food from his truck -- he's not looking to be famous; Dream is a Michelin star judge who stumbles upon his truck and loves his food.

Dream is used to liking small portion tasting menus with ingredients sourced from yurts or dug up during an irregular moon cycle. Comfort food that "sticks to your bones" is not what Dream eats, even when he needs comfort!

Dream stumbles on this food truck when he gets lost looking for his car after having a forgettable meal at the hot new speakeasy concept that recently opened.

Eating/tasting is a job and Dream is so tired of his function. So when he hears music and people having fun, Dream figures he can at least ask someone where he is and/or get his bearings. What he see when he rounds the corner are people queued up at a funky painted food truck -- laughing, joking?! with someone who is making his food safety hair net look good, and happily eating. The smell hits Dream in the face -- it's so good.

When Dream makes it to the counter, he forgets that he needs directions, hot chef hairnet, is so pretty - engaging smile, the stereotypical tattoos on his forearms, soft doe eyes -- Dream is momentarily speechless. When the chef ask him what he wants, Dream says surprise me (the same Dream who always has a plan when he's eating for his job); he gets a roguish smile and a wink,,,,, and falls a little in love.

Then he tries the food he's handed falls all the way in love.

Oh, this hit me right in the soft spot!! Absolutely love it.

I can so imagine Dream being used to those nouveau cuisine dishes where you get like, a sliver of horseradish, one grain of rice and a sauce made from gold leaf. He thinks that he likes it, that he's reasonably content. But he's never looked at one of those kind of plates and smiled. Not the way he's smiling at the loaded paper plate Hot Hair Net chef just gave him.

He sits a little way from the truck and eats, slowly, carefully. There's pilau rice, delicious curry, veggies that are clearly fresh. Its warm and filling, and Dream can't quite finish it all. But he's still smiling.

And he still doesn't know where his car is. So he goes to the counter again. The gorgeous chef seems to be packing up for the day and he positively beams at Dream. "Back already? I was hoping I'd get a chance to feed you up, but I didn't think it'd be so soon."

Dream blushes and asks for directions, and Hob says that if Dream can wait a minute, he'll walk there with him. His car is over that way too. While Hob packs up, Dream dares to ask about his ingredients, and Hob absolutely lights up while he talks about where he sources his fresh stuff, how much he values his suppliers, and how excited he is to keep building his business. He's got dreams of a restaurant someday, although he dearly loves his truck - maybe he'll do both!

By the time Hob helps him find his car, Dream is absolutely ready to give his heart and soul over on a paper plate. There are spices zinging on his tongue, and Hob has taken off his hair net to reveal an adorable, sexy little man-bun. He's got measuring spoon tattoos on his hands. Dream wants him.

He's back the next day. And the next. He's driving out of his way to get to Hob. Nothing else tastes good. And when he finally, shyly asks if Hob would like to come over for dinner sometime, Hob lights up. "It's about time you cooked for me! I'd love it. And... I'll bring dessert."

When Hob winks at Dream this time, he follows it up with a kiss on the cheek. And Dream’s not hungry anymore. He's just thirsty 😉

[maybankswhore]

rafe giving you a promise ring:

the noise of your birthday party could be heard down the stairs of your room where you sat patiently. you were specifically instructed by your boyfriend to be upstairs waiting for him to show you your present , which he pressed you to be alone for.

you didn’t mind though , bouncing excitedly. rafe had always given you the best gifts. one year was a necklace with his name on it , that you had wore everyday since then. the next was a build a bear with his voice inside of it saying: “i love you , baby.”

his gifts were always important to you because you appreciated him taking the time to get gifts that meant something. if it was up to rafe , you wouldn’t even be able to close the door of your room closed because of the stacks and stacks of presents he’d always beg you to leave him shower you with.

you smiled big as he opened the door , immediately going soft at the sight of him. his eyes fell onto you as soon as he did , grinning. “hey , birthday baby.”

“hey rafey.” you responded , opening your arms , wanting to be as close as possible to him already— even though you had been wrapped up in his arms all night , you never had enough.

“how’s the party?” he hummed , kneeling down in front of where you sat on the edge of your bed , boyishly grinning as you cupped his cheek , rubbing the supple skin with the pads of your finger.

you shrugged. “it’s nice seeing everyone. i’ve missed you , though.”

rafe chuckled. “you’ve been with me all night.”

“you know what i mean.” you sent him a mischievous smile , wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.

the sound of rafe’s laughter made your heart swell. “just you wait until tonight , you little minx.” he said before placing a kiss to your knee gently. “well– are you ready for your present.”

teasingly you laid back , looking up at the ceiling and spreading your legs. “ready.”

rafe rolled his eyes amused , tapping your leg. “greedy little girl. that present’s for later.”

you giggled and sat back up , resting your arms on both of his shoulders and kissed him gently. “i’m just playing— i’m ready for my present , baby.”

swallowing , rafe dug around in his pocket. “i hate just about everyone except for you. i hate everything that isn’t you. my life has been. . . meaningful with you. you’ve given me all that i wanted in every way possible and i don’t think i’d ever be able to say how much i appreciate and love you.” rafe breathed , grabbing your hand as his throat choked up.

your own eyes swelling at his sweet sentiment , wanting nothing more than to tackle him to the ground and cover him with kisses top to bottom.

“there will never be a day where i don’t love you , i’m sure of it.” rafe nodded , picturing the future of his life , your face burning into the memories. “and i promise you , i’m gonna fuckin’ marry you one day.”

he reached out of his pocket and opened a small square box , a dainty gold ring with a small heart diamond in the middle– the band just big enough to be engraved with his and yours initial. “i promise to love you every day for the rest of my life. and i swear to everything good in this world that you’ll always be my girl. always.”

tears shamelessly ran down your face as he took the ring out and slid it on your finger , kissing the tip of it softly. “i love you , baby. happy birthday.”

you stared at it for a moment and soaked in rafe’s sweet words , before tackling him to the ground just like you had imagined doing earlier , grabbing his face with both hands and pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. his laugh was contagious , catching you with open arms and holding your waist firmly– a warning to behave whilst being on top of him.

“i love you rafe , with all of my soul.”

“i’d say i love you with all of mine–” he paused and took a moment to look at you , his eyes sparkling.

“but you’ve stolen it the moment i’ve met you.”

[the-broken-truth]

Breaking The Illusion: Yandere Ex-Boyfriend [Female Girlfriend Reader]

Summary: "You can't do anything with me!", that was the last thing he said to you when you left the apartment you shared together, tired of his abusive language and neglectful language. He has all the power, was the one who was keeping everything together, and was needed! Or, so he thought. Watch as his illusion of a perfect life cracks & shatters around him.

Broken: The Great @bweoo made a decent point in this post that we don't have enough of these trope stories, so I'm writing this. Thanks, Bweoo, and let the words weave together!

[Flashback]

"I'm breaking up with you. I cannot stand your language and attitude against me any longer." She said as she walked to their shared room with her suitcase that she dug out of the organized but overcrowded hall closet while her boyfriend was working. She had been sitting on the couch after cleaning everything, thinking about her future and what she really wanted in life; then, her thoughts trailed to her relationship with [Ex-Boyfriend], they had been dating for about 4 years, living together for 3; it was like a dream, but just like old gold, that dream was fading because it had been neglected for so long.

[Ex-Boyfriend] was always full of himself but he was still gentle and sweet to [Name] during the first year of their relationship, they had their rough patches; however, that was the same for every relationship, right?

Then again, pressure can also bust a pipe and her pipe had finally burst.

He was getting worse, expecting too much out of her and meeting her hard work & dedication to everything she was doing for him out of love with disdain and demeaning remarks; he even started comparing her to his ex-girlfriend, who was no more than a gold digger who dumped him the moment he lost his job due to cutbacks.

[Name] was tired of it all. She needed to leave him if she wanted to find her own happiness in life. As much as she loved him and all the time she spent with him, all that she sacrificed to make him happy...She didn't care anymore.

"You wanna leave me?! Ha! You're just as stupid as you appear to be! What are you going to do without me?! Where are you going to go?! Who is going to want you if you leave me?! You'll grow old and alone if you leave me! Stop talking nonsense and fall back in line, woman!" [Ex-Boyfriend] declared with a smirk on his face, expecting [Name] to stop packing and obey him as she always has.

He looked slightly shocked when she packed her last item, zipped her suitcase before reaching into her pocket, and placed her house key on the nightstand on her side of the bed before turning to face him with a scowl on her face and unshed tears shining in her [E/C] eyes.

"Lose my number." With that, [Name] pulled her suitcase out of the room, down the hall, into the living room, and to the front door; she reached out for it when [Ex-Boyfriend] called out behind her, arrogance soaked in his voice.

"You wanna leave?! Fine, go! You'll be back! I know it! YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING WITHOUT ME!" He laughed at her as she opened the door and slammed it behind her, making the pictures on the wall shake from the force before the living room was silent once again. He stared at the door for a while before scoffing with a smirk on his face.

"She'll be back in 3 days. She won't last without me; she's too pathetic." He said before walking to the kitchen to find his dinner, but he came up empty, "Damn. She didn't even make me dinner."

[The Next Morning]

[Ex-Boyfriend woke up to a cold bed, groaning as the sunlight hit him in the face from the window in front of him.

Wait.

Sunlight?

He was supposed to be a work before the sun rose!

He shot up, threw his blanket off himself, and grabbed his phone to check the time; only to find the cell device was dead.

"What the hell?! How could my phone be dead?! It's never been dead before, I always put it on the charger at night!" [Ex-Boyfriend] yelled to himself when a thought crossed his mind, or rather, the lack of a thought. He couldn't remember when or if he placed the phone on the charger that night...or any prior night.

That's when the realization hit him: [Name] was the one putting his phone on the charger at night to make sure it was fully changed for his next day at work.

"She's been making sure my phone was charged? I just thought I forgot when I charged it." [Ex-Boyfriend] thought when he stood up and got dressed for work and dragged the power bank out of his dresser drawer; [Name] would always put it there in case he needed extra juice.

He used his power bank, called his boss, and notified her that he would be to work soon enough, before hopping in his car and leaving the apartment.

'I am gonna have a serious talk with her about not reminding me to charge my damn phone. Useless woman.' He growled in his mind as he drove to his office.

[Throughout The Month]

This month was the most stressful [Ex-Boyfriend] had gone through.

He kept forgetting to charge his phone at night, causing him to charge his phone in the car because he forgot to recharge the power banks. He would have to work with 30% of battery for the entire day.

He was out of fresh work clothes and he lacked the knowledge of washing them himself, so he had to take his suits to the Dry Cleaners so they could do it for him, but since the suits were designer, they were charging him more to make sure the suits were properly cleaned; it wasn't like he couldn't afford it but it was taking too much of his important time.

Without [Name] there to do the cooking and cleaning, [Ex-Boyfriend] hadn't had a homemade meal in a week and had been spending his money on fast food or eating out a high-class restaurants. Moreover, the apartment was getting more disgusting by the day, the trash was overflowing, dirty clothes, shoes and dishes were all over the place and he didn't know how the clean; she always did that for him.

He also found himself rather lonely on his time off. [Name] would welcome him home with a smile, a kiss on the cheek, and a warm meal, ready to listen to the stresses of his day; lending him her ear without a single word of personal input, just listening to him. He also thought about who she would run his baths for him and hold him when he found himself having a hard time sleeping at night; she felt so perfect in his arms.

Then, there was the matter of the Household Expenses. [Ex-Boyfriend] started receiving calls and notices in the mail about the payment for the bills and rent for the apartment; turned out, [Name] was doing an At-Home Job and using her salary to pay the expenses herself, but after the break-up, [Name] called the Landlord and Bill Companies, telling them that they would have to call [Ex-Boyfriend] for the future payments for any other bills; he didn't even know she had a At-Home Job, but [Name] told his elder sister about her job and how she got it to help around the house. He didn't know she was paying his bills, rent, and the groceries for the house with her OWN money... No wonder she never asked for anything other than his attention and love... She was handling everything on her own.

He groaned, holding his head in his hands as he attempted to hold back the tears building in his eyes.

"Why won't you come home already, [Name]? Why won't you answer my calls? Having me blocked is so childish. It's been a month already, so being so damn stubborn already. You still love me... Right?" He questioned himself.

His mind was filled with thoughts of his time with [Name] but all he could hear were his words of abuse and his neglectful nature; it was no wonder she was so sick of him. Then, he remembered the words his elder sister said when he was on the phone earlier in the day:

"If I were her, I would have left your narcissistic ass, too. She did all that stuff for you because she loved you, but you took her for granted. She had enough and she left. You had a good thing and now it's gone, don't cry over spilled milk now."

That's when his illusion shattered and the tears finally fell when the realization hit him hard.

"She never needed me... She wanted me... She stayed because she loved me. She never needed me. I needed her. I needed her. I need her. I NEED her." He lifted his head and looked at the picture of him and [Name] that was taken on their first day, "I need her... and I am GOING to get her back. I'm coming for you, My Love. We are going to be together again and I shall treat you like the queen you are."

[END]

@bweoo - Thoughts?

[heavenlyraindrops]

♱Father Forgive Me (For I have Sinned) ~Chapter Sixteen♱

Lucifer Morningstar x Angel!Reader Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Chapter Sixteen Warnings: profanity Visit the first tag on this post to see all other chapters.

♱ In which the purest soul in Heaven falls from grace… for the Devil. ♱

[Chapter Sixteen]

Lute’s heel dug sharply into your back. Another surge of hot blood bubbled up in your throat. Lute wrenched her spear from your wing, a trickle of gold tracing the air as she pulled it up. Your wing twitched in agony. 

She grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled you up. “I should just kill you right now,” she spat. “Save Hell-“ a jerk of the spear towards the glowing rift- “From being graced with your presence.” She released you roughly and you stumbled forwards. 

You whirled around, eyes shakily fixed on the glint of her blade as she brought it up in the air, aiming for where your wings met your back. You squeezed your eyes shut, waiting for the searing blow.

Something clattered onto the floor.

You opened your eyes a crack. The spear lay on the floor at Lute’s feet. Her hands were curled into fists, back rigid.

With tears streaming down her face.

“Lute?” You choked out. She flinched back, then grabbed you by the collar, heaving you close.

“You fucking bitch,” she spat. “I loved him.” She was crying like she’d never cried before. Worse than when she was sitting on your couch. Her shoulders racked with sobs, face red. “He was the closest, the truest friend I’d ever had.” 

Adam.

Your gut wrenched with pain and misery. 

She shook you a little. “And you. You and I.” Her eyes clouded even further. “I love you too, [name]. I loved you. I was going to love you.” She loosened her hold, fingers going slack. “Do you realize how much I liked you? Everything you did for me…” more tears bubbled up and over, streaking down her cheeks. “But you just had to fuck it up.” 

You grabbed her wrist, fingernails digging into her pale skin as your heart pounded against your ribcage, as if it was begging to be let out. “You don’t have to do this,” you said shakily. Her fingers unfurled, letting go of you. You stumbled back. The portal whirled and shook behind you like an awakened beast. 

“You didn’t have to fuck Lucifer either, did you?” She seethed. “Don’t you see, [name]? It’s not my fault, it’s yours. You’ve brought this on all of us. Me.” Another tear slipped down her face. 

“Adam.”

You were curling over the toilet bowl, nausea swirling on your gut. Adam was dead. He was never coming back. 

“Sera.” 

Sera smiled at you approvingly, believing you unconditionally and all the lies that spilled from your lips. She’d thought she was looking at the purest soul in all of Creation. Her smile morphed into a disappointed, patronizing scowl as you fell to the ground. 

“Emily.”

Emily tackled you to the ground in a hug, worried to death. “Adam said you went missing.” She screamed at you, voice burning with betrayal. “Tell me you didn’t know.” She then screamed at Sera, begging her to spare you. “It’s just love. Why are you punishing her for being in love?”

Why are they punishing me for being in love?  

Lute’s head whipped back.

Your hand smarted with pain. A trickle of blood dripped over her lips, down her chin.

“You need to stop fucking blaming me for this, Lute,” you seethed, the venom in your voice dripping onto her, burning her. She recoiled. “Me and Lucifer weren’t some fling, some random fuck. I love him.”

She slowly licked the blood from her lips. “Does he love you?”

A seed of doubt made your body stutter to a standstill. “Of course he does.” 

Lute wiped her mouth, and the blood smeared. “Fuck you, [name]. I hope he doesn’t. I hope you realize what a fucking mistake you’ve made.”

Another blow of pain landed in your chest, where her foot planted and knocked you back. She grabbed you by the collar. The edges of the portal swirled even closer now, burning you with the promise of a fall from grace as you teetered back, the only thing holding you being Lute.

“I ought to cut off your wings and leave you for the hellspawn, for them to rip you apart.” She snarled. But then her face softened. “But I won’t.”

Your eyes shot open in surprise. “Wha-“

She let go.

The last thing you saw was Lute’s miserable face glaring at you through the portal, and the red sky as you fell.  

♱♱♱

You twitched. 

Every part of you was aching. Your ribs, your head. You groaned, stirring. A stab of pain jabbed at your shoulder blades. White feathers lay scattered around you. You picked yourself up, trying to ignore the agony and blood dried and dark, crusting the tip of your wing. 

The hell-baked pavement seared underfoot. It burnt your palms as you pushed yourself up. You looked up.  

Everything was red. 

The buildings, the sky. The people. Sinners roamed the streets, their demonic forms unfamiliar to what you were used to, that being soft white feathers and shiny new buildings. Not this crumbling hellscape.

You clutched your arms, looking around frantically as sinners stopped to look at your curiously. They advanced.

“An angel?”

“It’s a fallen angel.”

Hungry eyes glowed at you from the crowd.

“You think I can-“

You tuned the voice out before it could list the atrocities its owner would have liked to commit to you, focusing on another.

“Poor thing.”

Could sinners have a heart?

Your mind rushed and swirled like a raging river of panic as you looked up. A huge tower loomed above you, encasing you in its shadow. The large doors at the bottom, in front of you, clanged open.

What you could only describe as a tall, hideous, bald creature slunk out, smoke curling between it’s lips, a large gun in it’s hands.

“The fuck’s all this?” It grumbled. Then it’s red hot eyes settled on you, and it’s eyebrows shot up as it’s gaze roved down your body. 

That thing has definitely molested something in it’s lifetime. It’s state was violating, penetrating. You wrapped your wings around you like a shield. 

Your wings.

Lute hadn’t cut of your wings.

The shock had barely registered by the time before the ugly creature flicked its head, and two sinners came and gripped your arms. Your mind flashed back to the exorcists as they dropped you on the cold floor of the Seraphim’s office. 

You struck out. “Let go of me,” you hissed, clawing at their wrists. But you were too weak. The crowd burst into commotion. 

“Why the fuck do you get her?” A harsh voice shouted from the crowd. 

A shot rang out. The sinner who had spoken out crumpled to the ground. 

The creature pushed it’s gun back under it’s arm. Another demon stepped out through the doors, and you were so dazed that you didn’t even care that he had a TV for a head. He reached up with a clawed hand for the creature’s shoulder.

“Val,” he said, smile and voice strained, “What the fuck is going on.”

And then his eyes landed on you. 

You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but suddenly a hand with a cloth closed over your mouth. You inhaled, and your brain grew fuzzy. You tried to pull away but your limbs wouldn’t move.

You crumpled to your knees, as the world faded to black. And the last thing you saw was the creature, grinning with malice, and the TV, errors flashing on his face from shock.

The darkness closed in. 

[pankowcrumbs]

The Sandcastle Pact X Elizabeth Olsen (Fem reader- Requested)

MasterList

Marvel MasterList

When I got Elizabeth’s text “Fancy a beach day? Just us. Like the old times.” I couldn’t help but smile.

It had been years since we’d spent a summer together like we used to. Back then, every July and August were stitched together with sand between our toes, salt-crusted swimsuits, and sunburnt shoulders. We’d build sandcastles for hours, invent ridiculous games with overly dramatic rules, and race into the waves with nothing but joy and sunscreen in our eyes.

Now we were adults, schedules crammed full, friendships often reduced to the occasional catch-up over text. But the second I saw her name pop up with that message, I didn’t hesitate.

Of course I’m in. What time?

The beach she’d picked was tucked away a hidden gem only locals seemed to know. It was quiet, peaceful, framed by dunes and swaying sea grass. The kind of place where time slowed down, where you could hear your own thoughts or simply let the waves drown them out.

Elizabeth was already there when I arrived, barefoot in the sand, hair tucked beneath a wide straw hat, sunglasses perched on her nose. She turned when she heard me, her face lighting up with that familiar, open grin.

“You made it!”

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” I said, setting down my bag beside hers. “You even brought the old beach towels.”

“I dug them out of my mum’s attic,” she laughed. “They still smell like childhood.”

We laid them out under the shade of a half-tilted umbrella and kicked off our sandals. It didn’t take long before we were in the water, shrieking like kids again as we splashed each other and dove under the waves. The cool sea tugged at us gently, and for a moment, I forgot we were grown-ups with deadlines and real-world worries.

When we finally trudged out of the surf, hair dripping and cheeks aching from smiling too much, Elizabeth turned to me with a glint in her eye.

“Do you remember The Sandcastle Pact?”

I laughed. “How could I forget? Rule one: no grown-up ideas. Rule two: no peeking at the other person’s castle until time’s up.”

“And rule three…” she said, dramatically placing her hand over her heart, “The castle with the best moat wins eternal bragging rights.”

“Exactly,” I grinned. “Are we doing this?”

“Oh, we’re doing this.”

We dropped to our knees in the sand, grabbing at handfuls like we were eight again. For the next hour, we worked in mostly-silent concentration, only occasionally breaking into laughter when a wall collapsed or a crab scuttled a little too close. I felt the sun on my back, the grit under my nails, and the kind of pure contentment that only comes from being with someone who’s known every version of you.

When time was up, we revealed our creations. Hers had turrets made from upturned buckets, little shell flags, and a moat so deep.

Mine was crooked but charming, with a winding seaweed path leading to a central tower shaped like a cupcake a nod to the time we’d tried (and failed) to open a beachside “castle bakery” for passing strangers.

We declared it a draw.

“I forgot how much fun this was,” she said, flopping onto her towel beside me.

“Me too. I didn’t realise how much I missed it… missed you.”

She turned her head to look at me, her expression soft. “I’ve missed you too. Life just got busy.”

“It always does.”

We lay there for a while, listening to the waves and the distant cry of gulls, letting the quiet fill in all the things we didn’t need to say out loud.

“I’m really glad we did this,” I murmured eventually.

“Me too,” she said. “Let’s not wait another ten years before the next sandcastle battle.”

“Deal.”

She reached out, her pinky hooking around mine just like we used to do when we were little. No words, just that small, binding promise.

The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting everything in gold. And in that moment, I wasn’t thinking about work, or time, or how rare days like this were. I was just a girl on the beach with her best friend, heart full, toes sandy, and a castle proudly crumbling beside us.

Some parts of growing up are hard. But some, like this they’re magic.

And sometimes, the best kind of friendship is the one that can still laugh in the sand and remember every silly rule you made up at age nine.

[sacredjake]

Heaven & Hell

pairing: Jake Kiszka x Reader

word count: 3.8k

warnings: 18+ MDNI!!!! basically p*rn, there is no plot. unprotected penetrative sex, cussing, impact play/spanking, edging, orgasm denial, sir kink, daddy kink, nicknames, hair pulling (f. receiving), oral (f. receiving), rough sex, cockwarming, squirting, dom!jake, eyeliner jake, sweaty jake, some fluff at the end. if i missed any pls let me know!

a/n: i intended to write this many moons ago and finally got around to it. this is inspired by end DIG jake and his smudged eyeliner. huge thank you to @gold-mines-melting for proof reading, coming up with the title, sending pic ideas and telling me to put in more sweaty jake and better descriptions of his beautiful tummy that we all love so much. love you so much, poppy, thank you<33333 also i wanna say that this is the first time @malany-gvf has not read one of my fics before it got posted so she will be going in blind hehe <3

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The show seemed to drag on for eternity, and you were grateful when the boys reappeared back on the stage for their encore. It's not that you weren’t enjoying the show. You were actually enjoying it a little too much. More specifically you were enjoying the way your hot rockstar of a boyfriend looked on the stage, his chest and neck glistening with sweat, his fingers moving furiously against the strings of his guitar, the way his hips were rocking into the instrument and his back arched, and the eyeliner that had smudged under his eyes. 

Oh the eyeliner. 

It was a shock to you just as much as it was to the fans that night when the curtain dropped. It was faint, just a little bit of black on his waterline, but my god was it driving you absolutely insane. And as the show went on, and the more Jake sweat, the more the eyeliner smudged making it almost unbearable. The throbbing between your legs wouldn't cease and only got worse, the thin material of your underwear sticking uncomfortably to your core with the arousal that pooled there.

When they started to play Highway Tune you decided it was time to make your way down to the floor so you could meet them as they walked back to their dressing rooms. You were able to catch the last half of the song after their jam session break, and you waited patiently for them to come off the stage. Just by the way Jake had been playing tonight you knew he would be looking for some relief, and that thought alone excited you. 

They had finally finished their set and were coming off the stage, Jake was first, nearly sprinting down the steps. Instead of handing his guitar to his stagehand Jake kept walking, one hand on the neck of the guitar to keep it from swinging about. His eyes were glued to your frame the moment he saw you standing there, the eyeliner extenuating his piercing stare. When he caught up to you, his right arm grabbed your left bicep, pulling you with him down the hall.

You didn’t say a word, knowing all too well what was going on. His guitar was covering the erection that had gotten increasingly worse throughout the night which is why he didn’t hand it off. His fingers dug into the meat of your arm, threatening to leave bruises, and it only turned you on more. The thought of him needing release so badly, and what he was about to do to you in the arena dressing room. 

Jake released your arm once at the door, his hand flying out to twist the knob. He guided you inside the room with a hand on your lower back, and quickly shut the door behind himself. You wandered over to the vanity in the dressing room, finding the eyeliner he used still laying on the counter. 

“The eyeliner was a nice touch, baby. Made all the fans go crazy.” You picked the pencil up and rolled it between your fingers. You watched through the vanity as Jake carefully removed his beloved guitar from his body and placed it on the spare stand by the couch. With the guitar out of the way, you could see just how badly he was straining against his pants.

He was quiet as he came up behind you, his left hand gripping your hip, the right brushing against your neck lightly to move your hair, exposing your neck. You watched his reflection come closer to you, his mouth right by the shell of your ear. His lips skimmed across your skin leaving fiery heat in their wake trailing from your ear down to the junction of your shoulder and neck where he began to place wet, hot kisses against your skin. 

“And what about you, sweetness? You seemed to be enjoying the show more than usual tonight. I bet those lacey panties of yours are just dripping.” The sensation of his breath fanning over your skin was making your head fuzzy, and your limbs weak. You barely registered the sound of the eyeliner pencil dropping onto the counter from your hand. 

You reached behind your head, tangling your fingers into his hair as your head rested against his shoulder, your back arching to push your ass further into his erection. With both his hands on your hips, Jake gave you what you asked for, rutting his hips into the swell of your ass. A whimper flew from your lips unable to contain just how needy you were for him.

“Jake please, don’t tease me. I need it, need you, bad.” Your voice was breathy and cracked when it came out, sounding like nothing more than a sigh. His hands traveled to the front of your denim shorts, popping the button and pulling the zipper down slowly. Jake slid the material down your legs, letting them pool at your feet. 

“Oh don’t worry,” He nipped at your neck before pulling away, “Daddy’s gonna take good care of you.” 

Jake pulled your hands away from him and placed them on top of the vanity, closer to the mirror. With the new placement of your hands he had you bent over the desk of the vanity, giving him the perfect view of your ass and your face. Not completely satisfied with your position, Jake swiftly nudged your feet wider apart with his own, spreading your legs for him. 

“She’s all wet and ready for me, isn’t she?” He drug his middle finger over your clothed slit slowly. The minor action alone made your heat clench and your clit throb. You needed more, and Jake obliged. His finger peeled your underwear away from your sopping cunt, dropping them to lay with your shorts. 

Once removed, his middle and ring fingers swept between your folds, stopping at your clit to rub tight, fast circles. His other hand was busy with the button and fly of his pants, doing his best to free his cock from its confines. You watched his dick slap against his tan and toned stomach that was still glistening with sweat as he pulled his boxers down. He grasped himself with his free hand and ran his tip through your folds, gathering your slick. Your high was building steadily the entire time, the coil in your core getting tighter and tighter. But in an instant it was gone. Jake’s ministrations on the hard bundle had stopped completely when he switched the hand holding his dick to pump himself a few times, covering him tip to base in your arousal.

You were ready to beg, and plead for him to do something, anything, when he slammed himself into you fully. The force with which he rocked into you caused your elbows to give out, your weight leaning solely on your forearms against the cold wood of the desk, and forcing your back to arch more. 

“Fuck Jake!” You gasped in pleasure at the way he stretched and filled you just right. It was borderline painful, but that's what made it so delectable. His hips hammered into you, punishing and unrelenting. Just the way you liked. 

You pressed your hand against the cool mirror to protect your head from being rammed into it, never taking your eyes off of Jake. Sweat trailed down his face and chest, his hair sticking to his forehead and neck. The scene was like one you had seen almost a hundred times, but not restricted solely to the bedroom. He looked as he did on stage not too long ago, brows furrowed and pinched together, mouth hung open slightly, hips thrusting and eyes glued to the source of his pleasure.

“That’s it, baby,” He nearly growled watching his cock piston in and out of you, “God you take me so fucking well. Like you’re made just for me, isn’t that right?” He tore his eyes from where the two of you connected and met yours through the reflection in the mirror. All of the air had been sucked out of your lungs. The sight of his dark, lustful eyes rimmed in the black eyeliner had depleted you of all thoughts and oxygen. You could only stare back at him and nod with your mouth open. 

Air quickly filled your lungs again with a sharp breath as his hand came down on your ass. The sound cracked loudly throughout the space, the motions of his hips never ceasing. You knew there was likely to be a full handprint, red and angry etched onto your skin. 

“I’ll try again in case you didn’t understand the question,” He planted his hand on the vanity next to your elbow, the sweat that spilled down his chest now began to seep into your shirt as he leaned into you. His other hand gripped your hip, using it to hold you firm. You didn’t dare look away from him, holding eye contact while he spoke next to your ear. 

“Who does this dripping cunt belong to?” He asked, his voice low and gruff. You couldn’t stop the groan that tumbled passed your lips even if you had tried. 

Jake was always sweet and gentle with you. He would constantly whisper ‘i love you’s into your hair with a kiss, bring you flowers any chance he had, open doors for you and hold you like you were the most fragile thing on the planet. You knew he would never hurt you intentionally and loved the way he worships you. 

Every now and then, though, you would get this side of Jake. He was demanding and rough and obscene. And you loved every single bit of it. This was exactly what you had been hoping for when you saw him on stage earlier in the night, and you were ready to feed into this side of him. 

“You, daddy, it’s all for you. Only for you.” You cooed watching for his reaction. His jaw clenched, and you could’ve sworn the chocolate of his irises turned solid black. 

In a split second he stood back up, both hands latched onto your waist. The speed on his hips never waivered, but his hands guided your hips to meet his with every thrust. 

“Don’t you dare take your eyes off me, do you understand?” 

“Yes, sir.” You nodded quickly. 

Your promise was quickly forgotten as his hips drilled into you faster and harder. The pace he set was absolutely grueling. With each thrust you were brought closer and closer to your end, you couldn’t hold your head up any longer. Your chin dropped down to your chest, your eyes squeezing shut. 

“What did I just fucking say?” Jake’s hand wrapped around your throat and pulled you upwards as he continued to fuck you mercilessly. When your back was fully flush against his chest, his hand moved upwards to grip your jaw, forcing you to look at him in the mirror. With the new angle you were teetering on the edge of bliss.

Jake knew instantly. He knew your body better than anyone. Knew all the signs of your impending orgasm. 

“I’m gonna-“ You were swiftly cut off with a smack to your left outer thigh. 

“No you aren’t, you’re gonna be a good girl and you’re not going to cum until I say so.” Jake grit out through his clenched teeth next to your ear, hot breath cascading over your sticky skin. 

Using the hold on your jaw he roughly pushed you back towards the counter top of the vanity. Your left arm shot down, your right catching on the mirror to stabilize yourself. Every breath, moan, and whine escaping your mouth fell against the mirror making it fog slightly. 

“Jake please, please. I can’t- I need to- fuck, I need to cum, please.” You whine, giving him your best fucked-out-doe-eyes. 

Jake’s only response was a groan coming from deep within his chest. His hand that was previously on your jaw wound tightly in your hair, drawing your head back sharply. The new pleasure that coursed throughout your body was heavenly. You felt him everywhere, and it was sinful bliss. 

With the grip on your hair, he used the leverage to pull your body backwards to meet each unforgiving thrust of his hips. The only sounds that came from you now were choked back sobs as you did your best to keep your orgasm at bay. You did as you were told and kept your eyes on his reflection, his lust blown orbs staring back at you. 

“Oh fuck babygirl, just like that.” The words came out low and breathy, sending you headfirst into your long awaited climax. Through your squinted eyes you watched as Jake’s head snapped back, his mouth hung open. 

Before he reached his own climax, he pulled out of you quickly. His fingers circled your clit making sure to carry you through the rest of your high. When you finally came down, he turned you around pressing your ass to sit on the counter. Without warning Jake dropped to his knees in front of you and pulled your thighs around his shoulders, eyes boring into you the entire time. 

He dragged his tongue slowly up your slit, gathering your release and groaning deeply, his eyes rolling backwards. The sight alone was enough to bring you to the edge so quickly. The smudged eyeliner underneath his eyes made him look so soft, yet dangerous. Like he could flip on a dime at any moment and split you in half just as he was moments ago. 

With each pass of his tongue over your sensitive bundle the coil deep in your core burned hotter. Jake was steadily working you towards another orgasm with his velvet smooth tongue alone. Your nails raked against his scalp, pulling groans from him and sending the vibrations straight to your dripping heat. 

You could spend eternity like this. Jake’s head between your legs, worshiping you the way he loves most. He looked absolutely divine. Beads of sweat trickled down his forehead and neck. The ends of his hair clinging to the wet skin. The look in his eyes was probably the best part. He looked like he was in absolute heaven, enjoying the way his tongue glided against you, gathering every bit of your sweet nectar.

Just when you were about to fall off the edge, Jake pulled back with a wicked grin. He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, his tongue darting out to clean what he missed. You huffed a needy sigh in retaliation. 

“What’s the matter babygirl?” He rose to his feet and placed his hands on the vanity, caging your hips between them. His eyes darted around your face in faux concern before his mouth broke into a smirk. 

“Oh.” 

Such a simple word, but it was mocking and condescending, “Did you think I was going to let you cum?” The arrogant smirk never left his face as he reached up to tuck the hair from your face behind your ear. His hand slid down your neck softly, landing on the juncture of your throat and shoulder. 

“Only good girls get to cum more than once, baby. You haven’t been very good.” 

“I’ve been good.” You whined with a pout, squirming under his gaze. 

“But you haven’t. I told you not to cum until I said so and did you listen?” 

“No.” You dropped your chin to your chest, your focus landing on his necklaces dangling from his chest. His hand snaked up your neck to the base of your skull, his thumb pushing under your jaw and forcing you to look up at him. 

“No, you didn’t. Do you know what that means?” 

“I need to be punished.” You whispered innocently and sweet, looking at him doe-eyed. 

“That’s right, baby. Stand up.” 

You did as he asked and stood from your seated position with a little help from Jake. He led you to the couch where he rid himself of his pants and boxers fully before taking a seat. 

“You’re gonna ride me until I say you can cum. Is that clear?” 

He looked glorious sprawled out across the mundane couch. His arms were outstretched on the back, legs wide open and cock pressed against his soft, yet firm stomach. Everything about him in this simple state exuded confidence and authority.

The cushions of the couch were plush, your knees sinking into them softly as you moved closer to straddle him. With your mouth practically watering you nodded frantically. You received nothing but a ‘tsk’ from Jake and a firm hand connecting to your backside earning a hiss from your lips as you sucked in a quick breath. 

“I asked you a question.” He was stoic with an eyebrow cocked looking up at you, waiting for another slip up. 

“Yes sir.” 

“That’s my girl.” His hand soothed the sting it left behind and slid upwards to rest on your waist.  You lowered yourself down onto his lap with your hand wrapped around his length, guiding him through your slick walls. 

He wore the same authoritative expression as you lowered yourself all the way down. Cocksure and waiting. It was a sight that made you that much more aroused. Something about the way he emanated power while you were mechanically in control turned you on immensely. 

With both hands on his shoulders for support you lifted yourself up while rolling your hips forward before taking all of him in again. The speed you moved was steady, enjoying the feeling of his cock pushing and pulling against your clenching walls. Each motion of your hips wound the coil tighter and hotter, your second orgasm within reach. 

It was at this point that Jake grew impatient. His fingers dug roughly into the flesh at your waist and he took control of your hips, lifting you up quickly before slamming you back down on him fully. With each descent of your hips to his, you were met halfway as he began to thrust up into you. Moans, and gasps tumbled past your lips with an occasional curse word. 

Your body eventually gave up, letting Jake have all the power. The only thing holding you upright were your arms looped around his neck and his left arm cradling the entirety of your back, your head supported with the same hand. In this position he was all around you. There was nothing else, only Jake. 

You kept your eyes locked on his, your mouth hung open in ecstasy, his lips drawn up into something akin to a pinched sneer. 

“Is the pretty girl too fucked out to beg?” He mocked between thrusts. You couldn’t answer him, not a coherent thought forming. 

“That’s okay baby. She’s doing all the begging for you, gripping my cock so tight. I know she wants it.” Your eyes rolled back at the way he spoke about your pussy. He was going to be the death of you. 

“Go on then, let her have it. Cum for me, princess, give it to me.” Jake grit between clenched teeth, holding back his own climax just long enough to demand yours. For the second time he threw you over the edge into the vast pit of searing pleasure. The feeling was euphoric and relieving, the intense pressure that had been building finally released. 

Though your senses were dulled through the haze you could feel water coating your thighs, ass and belly, soaking portions of your shirt. 

“Oh fuck!” Jake groaned from below you the sound emanating from deep within his chest. He fucked into you faster somehow prolonging your orgasm and increasing the amount of liquid you felt splattering your skin. 

“That’s it babygirl, keep soaking my cock. Such a good girl squirting for daddy. Goddamn.” Praises flew past his clenched teeth as he reached his own high only to fall on deaf ears. You were far too gone to understand any of what he was saying. 

Violent muscle spasms rolled through your body while Jake did his best to support you through his release. He pulled your body into his with your chests pressed together and your cheek resting against his shoulder. The spasms faded into twitches before dissipating while you laid against him. You could feel every breath he took, his chest heaving up and down. 

“Goddamn you are perfect,” Jake whispered breathlessly and turned to place a kiss on your cheek, smoothing your hair with his hand, “I love you so much, baby.” 

You peered up at him, not having the energy to move your head, and met his eyes. He was smiling softly at you and practically glowing. A smile etched its way onto your face, tired and completely fucked out. 

“I love you too.” 

The two of you stayed in that position for a little while longer until you were uncomfortable, your combined sweat beginning to dry. You sat up from his sticky chest and winced due to the soreness and him still being tucked inside you. Jake was about to help you off of him when you froze. 

The entire couch was practically soaked. The cushions on either side of you were wet and you were positive the one below you had to be drenched. Your shirt was also wet, the lower half of it clinging to your skin, and Jake’s groin and belly showed remnants of liquid that had sprayed across him.

“Oh my god…” 

“Made quite the mess baby, but it’s okay,” He pulled you closer with a hand to the nape of your neck, “It was insanely hot.” He flashed you a smirk and placed a quick kiss to your lips. 

He helped you ease off of him and stand, holding your hands while you regained your balance on wobbly legs. When he was sure you could stand on your own he followed suit. Your guess was in fact correct. The cushion that had been below you was almost completely covered. 

Jake followed your wide eyes staring at the couch. As if sensing your anxiety he pulled the cushion out of the couch, turning it 180° before flipping it over and placing it back on the couch. He did the same with the others before looking back to you. 

“Good as new.” He pulled you into his side and kissed your hair. You wrapped your arms around his waist and gave him a thankful squeeze. 

“Thank you.” 

“Of course, baby. Now,” He squeezed you back before untangling himself from you to face you fully and hold both of your hands, “Let’s get you a new shirt and get back to the hotel so we can take a nice hot shower and clean you up. How does that sound?” 

“Like heaven.” You sighed dreamily feeling your body relax at just the mention of hot water cascading over your aching muscles. 

“Not quite,” Jake chuckled and shook his head, “You’re the only thing on this earth that’s like Heaven, baby.” 

“If I’m like Heaven, then what’re you?” 

He gave you a wicked grin and shot you a wink, holding his arms out as if presenting himself. 

“Welcome to Hell, angel.”

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