#i felt every vein pop out of my body when i drew in those hand veins on the 3rd drawing. completely unnecessary but what if it was

[monobmp]

Today's doodles + BillFord I GUESS 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄

[lostinlewis]

Lewis didn’t win but maybe he deserves some consolation sex? A little cheering up for missing out on the podium 🥺

Lets give him it, with a twist hehe... Part One 🤍

Words: 2.5k

Mature.

You were two wines deep and onto your third when something out of your hotel room window caught your attention; Lewis. It wasn’t just any Lewis, it was a Lewis clad only in a white towel hung dangerously low on his hips, a Lewis that’s skin glowed with the moisture from the warm shower he had just taken, a Lewis that tempted you with every fibre of your being to give into your wants, to put aside your stubborn insistence that the two of you could never spend the night together, a Lewis that you were convinced, somehow, knew that you could see him in this moment. 

He paraded in front of the window, his phone in one hand, his braids in another, and all you could do was watch him. You were doing quite well to contain yourself really, sure you felt the tingle, the ache for him, but the feeling was simmering quietly within you, that was until he pressed one arm on the window and gave you the most perfect view of the V lines that decorated his waist as he took in the view below the hotel. 

Many a moment you had watched those V lines hung between your thighs as he drove into you, many a time you had traced the lines with kisses as you teased him to the point of frustration, before you took him in your mouth. It was those moments you missed in your tipsy state, it was them that you craved.

Reaching into your luggage you found what had fast become your best friend on trips away for work; your rose. Laying back on the bed, you pulled your shorts down just enough to allow for free space for pleasure, knowing that what you were about to do was wrong, a violation almost, but what Lewis didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him, right?

Lewis didn’t move from his position, posed perfectly against the window as if he knew his image was spurring on your pleasure in that moment. You studied every inch of his skin as if it was new to you, your eyes drew the outline of every ab, tracing down the veins that popped so violently out of his skin. The memories of many illicit moments spent with him only helped to paint a full picture of exactly what you wished he was doing to you right now.

So caught up in the moment you were that you didn’t react for a second when the man you were staring at in the window across from you suddenly lifted his head. A second is a very long time when you are in the midst of being caught in your most vulnerable of moments, but the minute you realised, when you felt his gaze lock onto yours, you bit hard down on your lip with a mixture of nerves and excitement. 

Leaving you little time to react, your phone began to buzz on the bed next to you, Lewis’ name flashing up on the screen as if to cement the fact he had caught you and now you had to face the consequences. 

“Baby…”

His voice was gruff, deeper than usual, his words drawn out to leave the anticipation of what was to come hanging in the air around you, the tension almost suffocating you for all breath in your body. 

“Lewis, I-” 

“Stop. Come closer to the window for me, sit at the end of the bed.” 

There was something about the command in his voice that made it so you were powerless to refuse. Standing up sheepishly, you moved towards the end of the bed just as he had told you to. 

“Take them off.” 

“What?”

“Before you sit down, take your shorts off.”

You didn’t argue back, yet he could tell by the way in which you were so slow to follow orders that you wanted to fight it. 

“Don’t pretend you’re shy now, baby. Just yesterday you had my dick in your mouth in the paddock, if I was not mistaken you have a little exhibitionsit kink in you, don’t you?”

No words left your lips, not because he was wrong, no words left your lips because you had never been one to admit to your kinks, especially not to a man who was nothing more than just a great fuck to you. 

Your shorts dropped to your ankles, stepping out of them you felt exposed. The game you were playing was very dangerous, not only was the hotel full with other visitors, those very same visitors worked with you both, some of those visitors were in positions to make sure the whole world found out about this game. 

As you sat back on the end of the bed, lifting your feet up to the mattress, you granted Lewis a view he would never forget, a sight that you hoped would flash through his mind every time he saw you at the factory, a glimpse of the palace he hoped to be buried in that night; if only the race had gone a different way. 

“Even from here, I can see how wet you are, baby. You liked what you could see, huh? Did it feel naughty watching me as you touched yourself?” 

You nodded your head in response, your heavy breathing doing the talking for you. 

“Words baby, I want to hear your words.” 

“Yes, Lewis. So naughty but you looked so good, too good…” 

The words you strung together were barely an intelligible response, yet the breathy groan you heard on the other side of the phone told you of how much he enjoyed it nevertheless. 

“Carry on, I won’t stop you…” 

A rush of excitement ran through your body as you reached for your toy, you knew what you were about to do was risky, but the thought of that man, Lewis Hamilton, watching you pleasure yourself to the thought of him, made it so impossible to not. 

“Spread those thighs wider, let me see it all.” 

It was as Lewis watched you place the rose on your clit, as he saw the way in which your head fought to fall back with pleasure but your need to look at him won, that he rewarded you with a sight you would never forget. 

Letting the towel drop to the floor, Lewis took his dick in his hand, slowly he began to stroke himself to the sight of you too. 

“Tell me how you feel, baby.” 

HIs voice was breathy now, a little moan ended his sentence, one that if the room wasn’t deadly silent but for the vibration sound between your thighs, you might have missed. 

“So good…so so good…” 

“More, tell me exactly how that toy is making you feel.” 

“It feels like you, it feels like your tongue flicking my clit, it feels just the way your lips feel when you wrap them around it to suck on it…” 

There was a breathy chuckle from the other end of the phone now, his ego had been stroked just as well as his dick had. 

“It isn’t as good as me, baby, do you know how I know?”

“How?”

“Because when I am between your thighs there is no fight in you that can keep your eyes open, no strength that will stop you from moaning out into the air.”

As if your body was controlled by his words, you felt a bolt of pleasure shoot up at you, letting out the most unintentional of moans in response. 

“You thought about it, didn’t you? You remembered a few months ago, when we found ourselves in the debrief room after hours and how I just couldn’t stop myself from eating your pussy right there on the desk…” 

Another moan left your lips now, a pattern was very quickly forming and judging by the heavy breathing you could hear from Lewis, he was certainly enjoying it too. 

“Want me to come over there and make you cum on my tongue, baby? I can be there in a few minutes.”

“Yes please…”

“Are you going to let me spend the whole night inside of you?”

Another yes almost left your lips, so wrapped up in the pleasure you were, the moment overwhelming you, you almost forgot that deal you had made. 

“But you didn’t win…”

The groan he let out now was more one of frustration, he had come so close to getting what he wanted, yet even as he hypnotised you with endless waves of pleasure, you were too stubborn to give into him. 

“Fine. But nothing is going to stop me from making you cum right now.” 

Was he challenging you? Was he taunting you? Did he hope that when you realised that he didn’t even need to be in the room with you to grant you your high, that you would give in and invite him over? He didn’t know you very well, afterall. 

“What if I refused to cum, Lewis? You can’t control me from all the way over there.” 

This chuckle was louder now, more telling, he found your words funny, pathetic almost. There was nothing you could do to match his competitive nature, you just didn’t realise it yet. 

“I am going to count down from ten, and when I reach zero, you are going to cum for me, you are going to cum so hard that you will never want to touch yourself alone again.”

“Okay, Lewis…”

Your tone was mocking too, although a tiny part of you knew that he lived to amaze you, a tiny part of you worried that he might just win. 

“Ten…is your throat still bruised from my dick hitting it yesterday? Can you still taste me?”

If that was all he had, you knew there was no way that he was going to get what he wanted within the next few seconds. You shook your head in response, but this time he was quite satisfied with that answer.

“Nine…you have such perfect lips, so full, your mouth is almost as inviting as your pussy is.” 

It was the praise, the words of adoration, that made you crumble a little. You were powerless to withhold the little moan you let out as your clit throbbed against the rose; the first sign of an orgasm nearing. 

“Eight…Oh you like it when I tell you how perfect you are, huh? You were made for me, your body, your pussy, built solely to take my dick, your warm wet walls wrapped so tightly around my dick, we fit together so perfectly.” 

HIs words were mixed with groans now too, his sentences a little scattered. You could see that his strokes had picked up pace, that the vein in the forearm that was against the window popped prominently, a sure sign that he was tensing against his own undoing now. 

“Seven…I wish you could feel how much my dick is aching for you. You know, since we have been…well since we have been fucking…I can no longer pleasure myself.” 

“You can’t?”

“Six…No, baby. Nothing feels half as good as you do, your hand, your mouth, your pussy, it doesn’t matter what you use, I can never make myself feel as good as you do.”

“Mmm, Lewis…”

Hearing him adore you with words so raw, a voice so breathless to match, made you teeter so dangerously close to the edge of pleasure it was impressive. 

“Five…Fuck baby, not being able to touch you is torture for me.”

“I know, I feel it too…”

“Four…You do? Stop being so stubborn, let me come over there and make you cum over and over again.”

“N-no…we can’t…”

“Three…We can’t? You don’t want my lips wrapped around your clit? You don’t want to feel me fuck you through an endless stream of orgasms as you scratch scars into the skin of my back?”

“I do…It’s just…shit Lewis, I want to, it’s just…” 

“Two…You’re scared that if you let me in anymore it will ruin it? Baby all I want to do is make you feel good.”

Every word of his struggled to rise above the groans now, he was so very close, and so were you. No longer did you care about the game you were playing, nor did you care if you lost. Within the space of 9 seconds, Lewis had done exactly as he promised and brought you to the very peak of orgasm. 

“One…I raced for you today, you know. Every inch that pushed me to drive fast was the need to spend the night with you. Not just to fuck you, to be with you, to wrap my arms around your naked sweaty body when we finally give into sleep in the middle of the night, to listen to you dream peacefully in a state that only I can keep you in.”

“Lewis, I-”

“Zero…Don’t fight it, cum for me…let me watch you cum…” 

His permission was all you needed to finally reach your peak, so unabashed with your moans, you threw your head back into the bed as your body arched off of the bed and your thighs closed around your hand, the muscles shaking uncontrollably as your body rode what felt like the longest of highs. 

So wrapped up in your own orgasm, you missed his. Lewis came as you came, groaning to the sounds of your ecstasy as he released onto the carpet below him - a problem he would deal with later. 

“So…I won.”

The smugness of his voice interrupted the silenced state of ecstasy you both rode, rudely in fact. 

“Does it count if you came too? Technically, we both won that one.” 

You teased him back as you put your shorts back on, being brought back to reality by his words, you were suddenly very aware of the fact that you were exposed to the world - your world, at least. 

“What are your plans for the rest of the night?” 

Lewis asked as he sat down on the end of his own bed now, the towel back around his waist to grant him some dignity. 

“I am about to finish this glass of wine in the bath, before I fall asleep to a random documentary on tv and wake to my alarm at some ungodly hour tomorrow morning.”

“Sounds fun, you sure you don’t want some company?”

“Goodnight, Lewis. See you at Spa next week.” 

“You are so stubborn, baby. Goodnight.”

“You wouldn’t have me any other way.” 

“Before you go, I have a question…” 

“Okay…” 

“The deal we made yesterday, that if I win I get you for a whole night, let’s make it last the whole season?” 

“You really think you are going to win in that wheelbarrow this year?” 

“It’ll be tough, sure, but knowing you are my reward at the end might be the edge I need to get it over the line.”

“Goodnight Lewis. Good luck in Spa, you’ll need it.”

“Goodnight, baby. Prepare to see a lot more of me next weekend.” 

[onouwu]

The Incubus and the Archer (M/M)

Keijo woke up in the bed of an unfamiliar room. He was surprised to be alive, but that surprise turned into terror as his mind contemplated why he would be spared by a soul-stealing demon.

He felt something gentle between his legs. His gaze trailed down across his bare body bound to the bed, finding the demonic looking white-haired incubus who outmaneuvered him. Skin a deep blue like the night sky, two small horns keeping his hair out of his eyes, slender form betraying his strength. He sat trailing fingers between Keijo’s toned legs, those emerald eyes taking in his bare well-shaped lower half, a semi-hard cock throbbing under gentle ministrations with every beat of his quickening heart. Aryn, the svelte demonic man, brimmed with delight as he watched it pulse to life.

“Keijo, is it?” Aryn let out.

“How did you know my name?!” the archer replied.

“Why wouldn't I know the name of my pets?” Aryn asked.

Though terror filled his mind, the archer couldn’t find it in his to even shift. As if some horrible primal urge wanted him to feel Aryn’s touch so badly, he could taste it.

“What have you done to me?” the archer asked.

“Mmmh, just gave you a little of what's to come.” Aryn said with a playful laugh.

Aryn’s fingers trailed up the archer’s chiseled stomach and chest. His touch, as delicate as a feather, gave the archer chills as it tingled throughout his frame. 

“Are you going to kill me again?” the archer asked with a hint of worry in his eyes.

“Maybe... but I’ll make it feel good too,” Aryn responded.

Despite the ominous warning, and his hammering heart reminding him of what happened before... He needed... at least a little more. There was nothing he could do anyway, so he might as well enjoy what he can, he thought.

Aryn lowered his head to Keijo’s now throbbing erection and kissed away the anticipation pooling at its tip. The archer’s legs tensed, and his toes curled. His breathing turned to shallow gasps as just how much he welcomed those lips. Aryn’s tongue spilled from his mouth and caressed its glistening head, pulling it into his mouth long enough to leave it wet with his saliva when he moves on.

“Nngh!”

Keijo grunted as his cock’s head popped from Aryn’s mouth like a lollipop. The tension in his overstimulated body was already overwhelming. He could already see Aryn stiff with arousal, the pink of his cock head standing out against the monotone of his body. Aryn approached, holding a potion bottle in his hands. He brought the bottle to Keijo's lips, whispering a soft incantation as he tipped the liquid into the archer's mouth. Keijo swallowed, his throat working against the bitter taste, desperate for relief.

"What was that?" Keijo said.

"Foxglove... and a little aphrodisiac" Aryn said.

The effects were swift and potent. Keijo's heart pounded in his chest, each beat echoing through his body like the thunderous beat of war drums.

"Why?!" Keijo asked.

"What's life without a little tension?" Aryn responded.

Aryn's touch drew out quivers of sensual ecstasy. Each point of contact sent a jolt of energy through Keijo, his heart racing to keep up with the onslaught. Aryn reveled in the heightened response, counting down the seconds as the liquid danger coursed through the archer's veins.

Aryn’s eyes lowered to focus on the smooth pale balls nestled beneath Keijo's throbbing cock. tender and sensitive, an irresistible invitation for the incubus who wanted to get Keijo's heart pounding the deadly chemical through his body.

His tongue spilled from his lips, a slow, languid lick that drew a sharp gasp from Keijo. The bound man writhed against his restraints, strong arms flexing in protest, veins bulging across his biceps, yet the ministrations only got more intense. Aryn's lips pursed, and he sucked one of the delicate orbs into his mouth.

A low moan rose in Keijo's throat, his cock twitching, begging for attention as it hung in the air, drooling onto Keijo's toned, quivering abs. Aryn's lips left him, and the incubus leaned down to take the other ball in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it in a slow circle.

Aryn's teeth gently grazed the surface of Keijo's tense sack. He could hear the poor guy's breath catch, and his own heart raced faster, pounding a rhythm of excitement against his ribs. The incubus's hands caressed Keijo's hips, the tips of his fingers teasing the skin around his waistline.

As Aryn lifted his head, he could see the heart's frantic, pounding rhythm coursing through Keijo's shaft. a rapid, vivid rhythm fueled by a dangerous cocktail working its way through the man's body. Keijo's cock was a beacon of his body begging for release, a heart straining to keep up with a potent cocktail of endorphins and poison.

Aryn's lips parted, his breath a warm wash against the tip of Keijo's swollen glans. Keijo whimpered, and Aryn could almost hear the desperate words held back in his throat, a plea for help that could only encourage him. Keijo writhed and begged in silence, his eyes pleading, his heart and mind too overwhelmed to do anything but offer himself to Aryn's desires in knowing defeat and desperation for release.

However, Aryn was just beginning to tease him. The incubus's black lips pressed over the toned, bound body before his in a cruel act of denial. His tongue spilling to greet every inch of trembling, sweat-dampened flesh.

The archer's heart now strained against the deadly cocktail pumping through him. His chest quaked as it slammed violently into his sternum, his cock throbbing in the air like the silent beeping of an EKG on the verge of flatline. Every fiber of his being was consumed with the desire to release, and with it, the fear of what would happen if he did.

"You want to cum, don't you?..." Aryn said, his breath hot against Keijo's pale, tense, abdomen, studying his strong and helpless form.

Aryn raised his rear, poised like a panther ready to pounce. His fingers traced a feathery path up Keijo's legs, causing the muscles to twitch in response. His mouth painted a wet trail of warmth up Keijo's body toward his heaving chest.

His lips pressed between the archer’s tense pecs, pressing a lingering kiss over his heart like a mark of death.

With a seductive grin, Aryn pressed his palms over Keijo's heart, fingers splayed out across his chest, then descended on Keijo's sex. Keijo's tip pressed at his entrance, a shiver of anticipation coursing through them both at the contact. For a moment, they remained that way, balanced on the edge of shared ecstasy.

Then, with a slow, deliberate push, Aryn lowered himself further, taking in Keijo's head with a soft, inaudible pop that made the archer's heart flutter beneath him before continuing its dangerous dance. Keijo huffed and arched his body, pulling at his restraints, but nothing could stop or hasten what was about to come except the merciless incubus. Aryn paused, his breath hitching as he adjusted to the feeling of Keijo inside his body.

Aryn pushed further, enveloping more of his victim. His own cock danced to the mischievous delight. Each descent made the quaking beacon of desperation disappear into him, stretching him, filling his lithe, deceptively supple form in the most divine way.

Keijo's chest rose and fell rapidly beneath Aryn's hands, his skin slick with sweat. The pale canvas of his body was marred by the flush of exertion and blue veins bulging against the surface. A fierce frontline warrior, little more than a toy for a cruel incubus to play with.  Aryn could feel the archer's heart pumping in vivid contractions, then faltering, the beats becoming erratic, a wild symphony on the verge of its final note. The pitiless incubus, encouraged by the unsustainable trainwreck, drove the man further into oblivion.

A tidal wave of pleasure overcame the overstimulated archer. Aryn could feel the tension building within his once formidable frame, a coiling stress that echoed through the archer's entire body and into his own. The incubus mashed his hips into Keijo, shifting the tender and sensitive flesh trapped within his body, Keijo's hips bucking in kind, desperate for the peak of bliss.

As if on command, Keijo's body tightened and convulsed beneath him in pathetic surrender, and Aryn felt the first pulse of release. His belly filled with rushes of gooey warmth from the tense, writhing captive.

Aryn let out a pleased moan. It's then, during the orgasmic shudders, that the man's poor straining heart seized violently beneath his palms, caving to a cruel and unrelenting master. Aryn clenched around Keijo, getting off after taking everything from him, his body greedily milking the archer's seed while spraying his own across the man’s belly and chest. Each powerful clench expends Keijo's precious energy in service of Aryn's pleasure. His life and soul were forfeit, a concern it was too late to have. Aryn closed his eyes and huffed out in low bliss, taking it all.

As Keijo's deadly orgasm subsided, the tension that had gripped his body was gone, leaving behind a strange sensation of tranquility within him. Aryn smiled, his dark lips brimming with satisfaction. He pulled away from the softening member, his gaze locking onto Keijo's vacant eyes.

Though accepting his fate as the light dimmed around him, he could feel a demanding push in the center of his chest, a hand caressing his still heart and squeezing an unnatural, needy rhythm. "mmmh, not letting you get away that fast" Aryn said, as if the game had just begun.

[rogue1102]

Yes, Master?

Summary: Vegeta finds himself in a strange place, and he’s pretty sure he knows the culprit.

A fic for @lovelykotori to go with the awesome art they made! Check them out at @lovelykotori-fa

He coughed and waved his hand to banish his eyes' pink and blue smoke. No matter how often it happened, which seemed to be every week at this rate, he'd never get used to the fruity scent that always seemed to linger. Cursing under his breath as he imagined the dry cleaning bill he'd have to pay, he looked around to find the causation of all his recent vexation.

However, gone were the modern trappings of his bachelor's apartment. In place of an uptown view, with its sleek buildings made of steel and glass, was what looked to be a desert city, complete with a palace that towered over the parochial village. Gone were the flat-screen TV and the temperature-controlled air; in their place were soft pillows and the humid breeze on the arid air. Sweat began to bead on his brow as mild panic, mixed with anger, began to rise from his gut.

"BULMA!!!"

With a quick pop and a flash, the bubbly female appeared.

"WHERE AM I!?"

Bulma's eyes widened with surprise at his tone but looked unaffected as she regarded him with a kind smile and straightened his mussed hair, much to his chagrin. "Why, Master. Do you not remember? You said you wished you could get away from it all…"

The woman continued to speak, but the words became muffled as if he were underwater. The vein above his temple began to throb and pulse. Vegeta had fought in wars, flown in combat, was shot down by enemy fire, and was the first to test the Saiyan Space Program prototypes, yet he had kept his cool during all of those moments. But this female had an unending ability to drive him to madness!

"…and you have looked so stressed. The line on your forehead has been ever so pronounced. Just like it is right now!" She exclaimed and moved to grab a scroll. "So, I decided to take you to the most relaxing place I could think of. The heated baths are to die for, and look! They have beds of nails…trust me, they are more relaxing than they look. And I kno-"

"Bulma," he ground out through gritted teeth, "I meant it just as a figure of speech. I didn't want you to take me…wherever this is! Take us back right now!"

The echo of his shout seemed to shake the room they were in; however, she did not seem bothered. Bulma merely laughed and tossed the scroll behind her before sidling up beside him. Unwilling to fall for her feminine wiles, he crossed his arms and looked away. "I also hoped we would be able to spend more time together. It gets lonely in your apartment and reminds me of being trapped in my bottle again."

While he could not see her, he could not be anything but hyper-aware of her presence. That strange fruity scent enveloped him again. The soft press of her body against his felt like both a sanctuary and a sin. The flesh on his neck pebbled, and a slight shiver ran through his body when he felt the weight of one of her fingers and its teasing walk across his shoulders."

"Do you not wish to spend time with me, Vegeta?"

The Saiyan Captain exhaled through his nose and glanced back at the woman at his side. Her expression was innocent, and a slight pink to her pouty lips drew his gaze downwards. Unconsciously, he moistened his lips as the temptation to kiss away her concern began to build. Before he could give in, he took a step back to put a modicum of distance between them.

"Bulma..." he said with a sigh.

"Yes, Master?" The sparkling blue of her eyes and her effervescent smile gave him a moment's pause. In his mind's deep, private depths, he could admit that he and the ancient being shared an uncommon attraction. And it was not due to her exquisite looks. Despite the upheaval she caused and her non-stop pursuit of his affection, she filled a part of his life he had not realized was missing.

"Maybe, we can stay for a little whi-"

Before he could finish his sentence, his ears were assaulted with a high-pitched squeal that seemed to rival the efficiency of most sonic weapons. Bulma bounced on the balls of her feet in delight and stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. The sensation was akin to a caress, traveling from his head to his toes. A blush bloomed on his cheeks and spread to the back of his neck and his ears.

"Thank you, Master!!"

When faced with the overwhelming and enticing creature before him, all he could do was click his teeth.

"Tch!"

[gimmethatagustd]

only here to sin (final teaser) | kth

When your genius of a boyfriend returns to Harvard for his sophomore year of college, you never would have expected to have his worst enemy keeping you entertained in his absence.

She text me I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, I hate you But how the fuck can you hate me?

When I ain't did shit, but be the real thing She know I'm the real, that'll never change I never been the one, to try to explain While you catch them feels I'ma sip on this drank

» pairing: fuckboy!taehyung x fem!reader (ft. namjoon)

» genre: BTS | 18+ | enemies to lovers | smut | angst

» release date: september 17, 2022

» teaser wc: 689

» teaser warnings: marijuana | reader is an emotional mess | tae is acting Soft™ | references past sexual intimacy (fingering) | reader def has a hand kink (don't we all when it comes to him?) | tae really likes using pet names

» notes: i know i've taken AGES to finish this series. tbh i was just gonna leave it as a 3-part, but i realized i wanted more ~closure~ for the characters. i hope part 4 also answers some questions i left unanswered *cough*whythefuckistaehyunglikethis*cough* pls enjoy this teaser to remind you of the mess that is ohts!

» series masterlist | join my taglist

» what was jai listening to? a fuckboy spotify playlist

“Jagiya,” Taehyung murmured, running his hand along your thigh in a soothing massage. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

You shook your head and dried your tears. All you felt was a deep-rooted numbness that started in the middle of your chest, seeping into every crevice and limb. Brynn said sometimes with emotions there was nothing to do but ride the wave. 

You were going to ride the wave. 

Taehyung led you to his apartment, his fingers intertwined with yours to make sure you were keeping up. Nothing passed before your eyes as you stumbled behind him; you barely saw or heard anything but the back of Taehyung’s leather jacket and white noise flooding your ears. There was nothing else for you. 

Inside, Taehyung watched you stand frozen in the doorway for a few seconds too long before it eventually unnerved him. 

“Y/N, take your shoes off and come here,” he said in a strong voice, hoping to cut through whatever was going on in your head. 

With a sigh, you kicked your shoes off and dragged yourself towards Taehyung. You pressed your face against his broad chest and loosely wrapped your arms around his waist. Just as the night you’d broken up with Namjoon, you felt Taehyung tense beneath the hug, and it took him a moment to ease up. His hands found your waist and drew you flush against his body. 

“I hate that you’re the only person I can go to.” 

“I know.” 

Taehyung’s hands tucked inside of your cardigan to find the hem of your shirt. He slipped his hands beneath the fabric, giving himself access to your bare waist. You shivered as he traced patterns into your skin with his fingertips. 

“Wanna smoke?” 

You tilted your head back to look at his face, admiring his muscular neck and sharp jawline. In the past couple of months when the two of you hadn’t spent much time together, Taehyung had changed. His lanky body had filled in more, seemingly more muscular. He also lived alone; Jungkook moved in with his girlfriend. You found it interesting that Taehyung’s friends were beginning to settle down. You wondered if he was still fucking other people. 

Smoking with him was a really bad idea. 

“Sure.” 

You followed Taehyung to the living room, plopping down on his couch while you watched him grind up weed he plucked from a glass jar. The veins in his hands popped as he twisted the grinder and picked out the pieces he wanted. Those long fingers expertly rolled a joint with a rolling paper that had little cartoon grapes printed on it. You couldn’t stop yourself from remembering the last time you had those hands on you when Taehyung fingered you during your picnic at the local forest reserve. You remembered how secure you’d felt with your back leaned against his chest, your legs hooked around his so he could keep you spread open for him. The way you licked and sucked his fingers clean when he was done. 

“Here.” Taehyung’s deep voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You took the now lit joint from his fingers and brought it to your lips. “You still like the grape, right?” 

You nodded, exhaling a thick cloud of smoke that made Taehyung’s figure waver in front of you. “I haven’t smoked with anyone else.” 

He nodded, taking the joint back from you. The two of you sat in relative silence, only murmuring comments about the weed or for you to get an update about Jungkook’s new place. It was nice to sit, to simply exist, and let the high lift your mood and have your body buzz. 

“You can do whatever you want now,” Taehyung commented, tapping the joint against an ashtray on the coffee table. “Go where you want, do what you want, see who you want.” 

“But not with you, right?” You couldn’t bring yourself to meet his bloodshot eyes with yours, instead choosing to inspect the glass jar of weed on the table. 

“You can do whatever you want with me, baby girl,” Taehyung countered. 

Whatever you wanted. With one condition. 

[demonslayedher]

I lost a bet to myself and paid the price by making another demon sibling AU. Was originally just going to be headcanons and doodles, but I wound up writing the parts I felt like. The names of Tengen's siblings are entirely made up. This will come in two parts due to length.

Clicking each bone in his spine, Yogen stood to his full height, taller than Tengen remembered. It wasn't uncommon to go long periods of time without seeing his siblings when they were on their own missions, but Yogen shouldn't had changed that much. "I'll spare you. It wouldn't do for the Uzui clan not to have a head. Now you're the strongest one."

"...Yogen..."

"I wouldn't had been able to take you on, if not for the fact that you'd never have done it if you knew. You should thank me, Aniki. You know what I've spared you? Father was going to make us all have a fight to the death. You'd have done at least half of this."

"What have you done!?"

"I ate them," he laughed, something Tengen had never heard Yogen do in his adult voice. He had the most infectious laugh when they were children, and this rang with the same pleasure, however dissonant. "I was stunned too, at first. When I came to, I had eaten two of them, they were still warm in my mouth, their cells already nourishing mine. But you know what? I decided to eat the others. I was going to kill them anyway, what difference does it make that I should eat them?"

Tengen's face pearled back into a snarl, his eyes flaring.

"One, two, three... Eizen got away before I could bite him, though. That whelp would had done nothing for me. The one I really wanted to eat was the strongest," he said, his glowing white eyes shifting down to their father's fresh corpse. "And now, even he's nothing to me."

Tengen could stand no more of this. "Yogen!!" he screamed and gripped one of the swords at his back, and charged at Yogen all in one motion. A hard sickle burst out of the flesh of Yogen's arm and caught it, but when Tengen pulled his other sword down through Yogen's shoulder and chest, the sound of ripping sinews what different than it should had been. A look over to the injury revealed that the shoulder was repairing itself before Tengen's eyes. When had he learned any technique like that?

The momentary lapse in focus caught him, Yogen swiped up against Tengen's forearm. It felt too varied to had been spiked knuckles--those were his fingertips, he had grown claws. Tengen drew a sword up to lop off Yogen's forearm, and then his brother let out a shrill scream as his features lit up and revealed how contorted they had become. Yogen didn't look human anymore with how his veins bulged and burned. Burned? From what? Tengen took a look over his shoulder to the sun rising and casting light through the wide open door, and when he looked back, Yogen was gone.

---

Tengen watched the flames consume the house and the bodies of his slain family. He had combed it for any trace of Yogen, but his brother left none. Hope though he did that the flames may consume Yogen too, he knew in his gut that he was still out there.

Behind him, Suma sneezed in a gust of smoke that wafted into her face. Hinatsuru handed her a handkerchief, as she and Makio were already covering their faces in case of poison. Tengen didn't bother, he was resistent to most ninja poisons, and the scratches down his forearm were already less swollen. "You three should go back to your homes."

"No!" insisted Suma.

"We're already members of the Uzui clan," said Hinatsuru.

"Your revenge is ours," added Makio.

Hinatsuru made the most important point, they were already seen as his property. He could hear whispers and feel them all being watched; the other ninja clans knew what had befallen the most powerful family, and the Uzui name was now shunned. Even if Tengen wanted to stay, he had no place in the village, and neither did anything that belonged to him. The only thing left for him now was to track his brother down and drag him to hell.

Someone else was approaching, and Tengen reached for one sword. Uneven footsteps. One didn't have the splat of a foot, it was the thunk of wood--a cane, or two canes? A leisurely, but determined pace. Self-assuredness, even for entering ninja territory. A robust heartbeat. Who was coming?

"Well, is that what you all look like? I feel like I've wandered into one of those storybooks," said an old man. He had one missing leg, a full head of hair and moustache to rival it, a grin, and a telltale scar lining the underside of his left eye. "I had always left your kind alone, but I couldn't when I felt the presence of a demon over here."

"Who are you?" Tengen asked, stetching one arm before his wives while the other hand stayed at his weapon.

"You didn't chop its head off, did you, ninja boy? It's long gone by now, you know. It'll hide from daylight. Be even more trouble to find if it's one of your folk."

"How do you know about us?" Makio shot back.

"How do you children not know about demons? Aye," the old man huffed to himself as he set down a stool he carried. He planted his rump on it, then folded his arms. "The name's Kuwajima Jigoro, former Roaring Pillar of the Demon Slayer Corp. I figured this would be out of your expertise, so I've come to help."

Tengen felt in his gut he could trust that. He dropped to one knee and bowed his head, his wives all doing likewise behind him. Jigoro seemed to enjoy that, but insisted they do not. Instead of bowing, he'd appreciate the ladies rubbing his shoulders to display their gratitude, he said.

While Hinatsuru and Makio set about at each arm, Suma kneeled at his remaining foot with a gasp. "Aren't old people not supposed to be this beefy?"

"Can it, Suma!" chided Makio.

Hinatsuru said nothing, but could feel something was different in this man, not only in his physique. Whatever he had to say was going to change their lives more than the previous night already had. They all listened carefully as Jigoro orated about the existence of demons, how they eat humans, how they are near impossible to kill, but also the methods of those who hunt them, with specialized blades and an organization to support them. As he began describing Breath, however, Tengen stopped him. "I already know all that, that's ninjutsu basics. That's not giving me anything I don’t already have."

"Oh? I figured as much. Always made me curious about you pups. So you you've got the basics of Breath technique, huh?"

"It's beyond basic," he shot him an annoyed frown.

"I'll be the judge of that. See that tree over there? That's probably about the strength of the usual demon neck. Go hog wild on it." As much as showing off was against the ninja code, Tengen wasn't in the mood to argue and made short work of that tree, the only sound being the pop of it seperating into two halves. Jigoro gave him a clap, then stood with his cane. "Good accuracy. Spot on. Now you pick one out for me. Take some mercy, though, I'm only working at half-strength." He balanced on his foot and his peg, plopping the end of his cane in his palm to show off that he meant to use it in place of a sword. Tengen hated when other people tried to be show-offs, so he pointed to a tree a few rings thicker than the one he had cut.

The old man eyed it, then slid his good foot through the dirt, and as he leaned forward, clouds of steam rose from his lips. "Breath of Thunder, Fifth Form. Heat Lightning."

The sound hit Tengen so hard that he covered his ears, and the old man was gone--on the other side of the tree, which was not only cleanly chopped, but split itself in half vertically as it fell. A rarity, Tengen's jaw dropped. Jigoro looked back with a fierce grin, knowing he'd have left them all impressed.

Rather than one knee, Tengen planted his palms and face to the ground. "Please teach me this technique, Master."

"When did I ever say I wanted a student like you? You already said you know Breath technique, don't you?"

"You won't teach him?" Suma sat straight up, little tears in the corners of her eyes.

"I only want students with talents I can mold. You're already set your ways and would just try to make Thunder Breathing into what you want. You can't fill a full tea cup, as they say."

Tengen wanted to insist he's do anything to take his revenge, but the old man was right. As he was, he wouldn't be able to unlearn everything he always knew, it was as much a part of him as every experience and memory, like every scar, such as the ones running down his left arm.

"The true nature of Thunder Breathing would escape you, you'd get too caught up in how powerful it looks. You're too flashy!"

His cheeks flushed. "Say that again."

"You're too... flashy? I don't think a ninja should find that a compliment."

"You can't tell him all that and then not train him!" insisted Makio. "Please! There's got to be something you can do! Tengen-sama works really hard!"

"Tengen-sama works harder than anyone!"

"Please, Master. Tengen-sama can think flexibly, please give him a chance."

"I won't! I can already tell he's not the sort of student I'm looking for!" he barked back, and Suma burst out into sobs, while Hinatsuru hid delicate tears and Makio's face turned dark red. Jigoro flinched at the sight of the upset girls, then looked back to Tengen. "I--I didn't come out here to leave you high and dry, you know. I already told you about the Corp, didn't I? That's where you really need to go. I can't teach you Thunder Breathing, but if you really think you can pick up something new, there's an old scroll I've got of an off-shoot Breath. Someone like you might be able to pull it off. What do you say, ninja boy? How about I give that to you and you teach yourself Sound Breathing?"

---

From there, Tengen took much the same course as in canon. When he became a Pillar and had his meeting with Oyakata-sama, he was upfront about his reasons for entering the Corp. Oyakata-sama appreciated his frankness and assured him that the entire Corp would support him if they found any information on Yogen, but Oyakata-sama was also keen on the undercurrent of Tengen's heart; that he was relieved to leave the murderous ways of ninja, and that he wanted to live an upright life. This finally gave words to something Tengen always felt, but thought he had no right to wish for. He and his wives were moved and they swore loyalty to Oyakata-sama.

However, as time went on, there were no clues whatsoever about Yogen. Around the time they all got antsy, Makio finally couldn't stand it anymore and suggested they may never find him. "Think about it," she said. "This Corp is full of strong swordsmen. Someone might had already chopped off his head long before we got here."

While that should had come as a relief, Tengen couldn't help but find the idea frustrating. That revenge was his to take. He could think of only one person stronger than him who might had done it, so he described Yogen to Himejima one day and asked if he remembered seeing a demon like that. Himejima plainly replied that he was blind.

As they began to accept that they may never have closure, Hinatsuru proposed that they be satisfied bagging an Upper Moon. That should be enough for them to earn their peace, she said, and as much as it grinded away at Tengen's heart, he agreed.

In the course of performing Tengen's Pillar duties, they closed in on what was likely an Upper Moon in Yoshiwara. Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma slipped in, but when he lost contact, Tengen went looking for some female Corp members to sneak in and see what was up. That's when he reencountered the boy whose head he meant to spill at the last Pillar meeting, as well as his two annoying buddies. Inosuke would had been satisfyingly flamboyant, if not for the fact that he was gross. The other whelp was named Zenitsu.

"You write that 'Zen' with the kanji for virtue?"

"Yeah. What's it to you?"

"Nothing," Tengen replied, never saying anything of it ever again. It didn't take long for him to notice that Zenitsu had ears on par with his own.

The boys managed to get in, and soon the plan went awry. Tengen's first encounter with an Upper Moon broke out, and that went awry in the most horrifically flamboyant of ways. Tengen found himself unconscious, needing to stop his heart to keep the demon poison from spreading, as it was many times more potent than any ninja or demon poison he encountered before. There was fire in the wreckage nearby, he'd be consumed if he doesn't move soon. In the odd space where consciousness was returning to him, his hearing reached into a deeper plain, where he could hear the most carnal thoughts pounding though the bodies of those around him.

Tanjiro was panicking.

No scent! No scent! Upper Moon Five--where did--but--no scent! No scent!!

Tengen could hear Upper Moon Six, in both bodies, but he couldn't hear any other demon. It gave off no sound. He struggled to look in Tanjiro's direction, and was stunned by the sight of a demon partway sticking out of the shadow Tanjiro has cast, guarding Upper Moon Six with a kunai stuck in his arm.

"Sakage!" growled Upper Moon Six. That is not the demon's name. "I don't need you here! Were you intruding on my thoughts?"

"I didn't need to. I heard the cacophony from ages away. You wouldn't had seen wisteria coming anyway."

Upper Moon Six looked to the kunai, while Tanjiro panicked that the poison had no effect on the newly arrived demon.

"Quit with all the fuss. I'd appreciate it if you hurry up and silence that Pillar over there," he turned his glance to Tengen. His eyes had writing in them, but that was Yogen. "I can't be bothered."

Yogen disappeared into the shadow as suddenly as he appeared, and Tanjiro fell forward with a stumble. He'd be a sitting duck like that, Tengen had to go save him, he pushed himself off the ground to--but--but his arm was missing--the scars were torn off-----

---

Yogen had been quick to learn some of the ins and outs of being a demon, but not all the finer details. He gathered from the surrounding demons' fear of the drum demon that the "Twelve Moons" were the most fearsome demons, closest to their progenitor, but didn't those other demons notice that the drum demon couldn't stomach humans as he ate them? That demon was weak, and Yogen wouldn't stand for it. He cut off his head.

It did not kill the demon, who screamed at him with the characters "Lower Six" in one of his eyes, but he shut up quick when Kibutsuji Muzan arrived. Despite warning Yogen that this was not how fights between demons were done and he should kill Yogen for acting without permission, Muzan smilingly decided to allow it, and instructed him to absorb the former Lower Moon Six and assume his role. Muzan did not care for how Yogen's name referenced sunlight, though. He renamed him Sakage on a whim.

Sakage went on to learn very quickly how to please Muzan, and how to climb the ranks. While not immune, he could resist wisteria poison, which Muzan was more than pleased to borrow from him and see how he could try to adopt it into his own cells. Sakage could move between connected shadows, and in spying on the Corp, he picked up on the hand signs the swordsmen used and quickly deciphered them, and openly reported so to the demons that outranked him. With hearing far more advanced that his brother's ever was, he listened to the information shared between crows, piecing apart their language to the best of his understanding.

Lower Moons Three and Two later, he used his spying abilities to identify his next target: Upper Moon Five.

Gyokko was startled by the challenge, and under Muzan's gaze, he could not refuse. Sakage made short work of him, and the other Moons all felt a chill. Akaza's chill was excitement.

Akaza wasted no time in chatting up the new Upper Moon, for Sakage likewise had a stated hatred for weaklings. While Sakage did find it a bit of a bother, especially since he knew he was a long way from ever being able to pose a real challenge to Akaza, he learned that the quickest way to stop Akaza from pestering him was to spar. Akaza loved to chit-chat even while sparring, though, and this became a useful way for Sakage to catch up on a hundred years of gossip about the other Upper Moons.

While it did feel they had somewhat of a friendship, one day they got on the topic of poison. "I hate people who use poison," said Akaza, between punches. "It's as cowardly and low as you can get."

Sakage, who could create a myriad of weapons from his cells as needed and always laced them in poison, was not offended, but disagreed. "I see no problem in being effective."

This gave Akaza pause, and an uncomfortable drop in his stomach. He excused himself, and bothered Sakage not so often after that.

Muzan was typically pleased with Sakage, which made Hantengu tremble that the ambitious demon had it out for him next. When Muzan was in a foul mood after Upper Moon Six's defeat, Sakage was likewise in a bad mood for the annoyance he encountered out there, someone who should had stayed hidden away instead of bearing free his inherently show-offy personality by joining the Demon Slayer Corp, especially since he was sure to have his ears set to the ground now for any new sign of him. He was certain Tengen witnessed him. But, for as much of an insult as it was to the Upper Moons that Gyutaro let him live, Tengen wouldn't be much of a threat anymore.

Still, Sakage knew to keep his cool. He had news to report, and he was certain of his deciphering. When he declared where the swordsmith village was located, Muzan had no doubts, and sent Hantengu alone. "Now why couldn't you find that, after all this time?" Muzan smirked to Nakime. She, not being of any rank, could merely apologize. Sakage took no pleasure or pride in looking better than a peer whom he knew he was stronger than. Muzan's mood could never be sustained for long, though, and he very soon frowned back to him. "You've brought no word of the blue spider lily."

"My apologies."

"Aren't ninja supposed to have knowledge of these things? Weren't you of a high ranking clan? Go back and order them to search."

And, at that moment, a dangerous thought escaped Sakage's inner filter, it leaked though to his mind at the same moment it leaked to Muzan's: But I can't show my face back there.

The way Muzan's face bent with disgust drove more terror into Sakage than when he was still a human and first encountered the demon lord. He felt certain of a swift death, but Muzan let him be. Sakage was still too useful. But, Sakage knew he'd have to crawl back to Muzan's graces by providing something of more use to him. He had to unveil a secret of more value.

--

Tengen, who remained active despite missing an eye and a hand, was present at an emergency Pillar meeting. Tokito and Kanroji were bandaged up, and they recounted how the swordsmith village was attacked by Upper Moon Four. With two Pillars and a few other reliable Corp members all working together they defeated him well before daybreak, but not before discovering an ancient ability known only as "the mark."

As he was now, Tengen knew he'd never attain this. What bothered him more was how the demons found the village, so hidden that he'd have to put his mind to it to have figured out where it was. He could had resorted to old tricks to figure it out, whether that be silently tracking the smiths after their deliveries or flirting with the Kakushi, but what recourse would a demon have had?

'I heard the cacophony----'

A demon may have had ears that rivaled his own, or were better!

Feeling sure of which demon it may had been, he set to thinking of what he would do next. If the demon moved in shadow, listening for the Corps' secrets, what would be a bigger target than the swordsmith village?

Oyakata-sama!

"Uzui-san, are you alright?" asked Himejima. "You seem quiet today."

"You look pale," added Kanroji.

"I'm jealous I won't get one of those flashy marks," he lief without flaw. "We all know I can't take any demons on like I used to. Maybe I don’t belong here."

"Uzui, what sort of talk is that?" Iguro looked to him with his flamboyant dichromatic eyes wide, and brows knit tight over them. "This isn't like you."

"I've got a different sort of mission to go on, I'll see myself out. You all stay here and keep each other company discussing this."

"Then I'll excuse myself here as well--"

"Not you, you've got no excuse," Uzui forced Tomioka back to a seated position by pressing on his head.

In conducting his own investigation, Tengen set his crow to work investigating from the sky. What the crow learned, tracing a few leaks and scolding the birds involved, was that their mid-air communications may had been what spoiled the secret location. This confirmed Tengen's suspicion about Yogen's hearing. He had a feeling about some other spoiled secrets too, and in following up with Corp members involved in previous mishaps, he concluded that the secret hand signals had been divulged.

--

(Read the conclusion reblog here.)

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

Just friends

Pairing: Sky x reader

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

After an entire night of sipping beer and looking for someone to connect with, Y/N finally found a guy that truly stood out. Tall, broad shoulders, dirty blonde hair that reminded her of a certain Specialist she wanted to forget and those eyes….Phew, those emerald green eyes that drew her in with their promise of a good time she’s been looking for truly captured her attention.

Standing a little too close to him in order to keep up a conversation with music blaring, Y/N allowed herself to lean into his lean body, his hand resting on the small of her back. His lips called out to her, or the beer in her system made it seem so. Whatever the case may be, she didn’t really care. 

Y/N wanted someone to feel close to and he looked like someone appropriate; similar to the very cause of the aching heart she’s trying to ignore. The way he looked at her showed he’s just as interested as she is, but his eyes kept glancing at something or someone behind them.

Irritated with his loss of focus, with her index finger on his chin, Y/N demanded his attention unapologetically.

“Ignore a fairy and she leaves.“ Y/N said with a light tone, but she hoped her pursed lips and slightly narrowed eyes were a warning he’d read.

Chuckling, the guy, Porter, nodded, licking his lips. Following his gaze, Y/N turns. Tossing her hair over her shoulder to make sure nothing obscured her vision, she gnaws on the inside of her lower lip.

On the far end of the room stood a handsome guy taller than Porter. He’s leaned against a wall, muscular arms crossed over his chest, hair floppy with blond bangs that fell on his forehead. He held a pensive look on his face, lips pressed together and dark blue eyes sending daggers Y/N’s way. 

Sky.

“Who is he?“ Porter breaks up the little staring contest with a question. Turning to him, Y/N gives him an innocent smile, shrugging.

“No one important.“ She informs him, placing a hand on his chest. Trailing it upwards, she holds onto his shoulder and looks into his eyes.

Raising an eyebrow, Porter glances at the guy and at Y/N once more, tilting his head. “Not a jealous boyfriend or anything?“ He questions, unconvinced by her previous answer.

Y/N sighs, faking a smile that never really failed to trick those around her; especially not him. She could never fool him, even when she tried. Somehow, he always knew better.

“Nope.“ She says, popping the P for effect. Feeling her heartbeat quicken its pace, she keeps that smile frozen on her face as if she had used her ice powers on herself, knowing it’s rehearsed to perfection.

“Does he know that?“ Porter asks, smirking. 

Rolling her eyes, Y/N let him go, moving out of his embrace. 

It took her a moment to stop herself from blowing up on the guy, annoyed by his constant questioning. She figured he’s a senior in Specialist training looking for a way to blow off steam that wouldn’t ask too many questions, but Porter proved to be anything but.

“Be right back.“ She taps his arm, turning around and walking towards the door.

Leaving the basement, she sits on the steps. They’re cold but she’s used to cold - she’s the ice queen anyway. She knew she’d have to be waiting patiently only for a short time. Moments later, the door opens again, the man who couldn’t keep his eyes off her coming outside.

“Took you long enough.“ She huffs, focusing her eyes on the ground in front of her instead of him. She didn’t have to look at him to know who it is. She knew by the sound of his footsteps, the left one always releasing a slight creak on the floorboards as he stepped with his entire foot while he only stepped with his heel on the right one.

Taking a seat next to her, Sky doesn’t look at her either.

“He’s not good enough for you.“ With those words, Y/N feels his piercing gaze on her. The emotion in Sky’s eyes is fathoms deep, yet they carry the warmth and life of the sunlit surface. They have a thousand hues of blue and a small touch of hazel radiating in softly swooping arcs and they leave Y/N breathless, as they always do.

Blood rushes to her face, turning up the temperature in her head to a dangerous level and it wasn’t from his eyes on her…it was that statement. His sentence had pissed her off enough for ice to swallow the steps they sit on; enough to lose control.

“You don’t get to say that.“ Y/N spits, standing up. Body rigid from anger, hands clenched so tight she felt her knuckles turning a pale color with a disruption in blood circulation. “Or anything to me. Ever.“ She turns to him with narrowed eyes.

Sky didn’t look away, no matter how cold her glare got. She hated how he could withstand it as it tore her apart.

“I only have your best interests in mind.“ Sky dares to say, fixing his tender gaze upon her as if his words were meant to calm the storm inside. His fingers twitch, like he can’t decide if he should reach out or keep physical contact to a minimum in fear of making the situation a lot worse.

Looking up in disbelief, Y/N releases something between a choked sob and a chuckle. Biting her lower lip to keep herself from shouting, her eyes fall back on the man before her.

“Don’t. Just…don’t.“ Placing a hand on her hip, she uses the other one to point her index finger at him.

“You said we were friends and then you kissed me! And then you told me we would never happen!” Shaking her head, Y/N sighs. “You can’t do this to me. You can’t stare down every guy I talk to or tell me they’re not good enough or...” Pausing, she stops before she breaks her own heart. 

She thought, ‘Friends don’t look at friends the way you’re looking at me now’, but what’s the point? He’s determined it means nothing. That she means nothing.

Standing, she points her finger at him again, “Stop. Alright? I’m tired of waiting, I’m tired of arguing! Just leave me alone.” 

Standing as well, Sky seems to have made up his mind and went for it. He grabs her finger, wrapping his hand around her entire fist with ease, pulling her closer to him. Flush against his firm chest, Y/N dares not look up, feeling his raging heartbeat through the palm pressed over his sternum.

“I never meant to hurt you. Do you know that?“ He whispers. His warm breath reaches her forehead, fanning away a couple of loose strands of her hair.

"Sky, I can’t do this right now.“ She feels her head spinning. Being so close to him was too much too fast. Especially after he broke her heart.

“You’re my best friend.“ Sky’s voice breaks, his chin resting atop her head. 

She could feel him pulling her closer, pressing his body against hers in a mock embrace, but she’s just a frozen statue in his arms. There is no way for her to relax. If she did, she’d break and she never wanted to break in front of him. Not again.

Placing both palms against his chest, ignoring the way his heart rushed with the contact, she pushes with all her might. Moving away as Sky stumbles backwards, Y/N turns her back on him. Feeling her chin tremble as his warmth leaving her body renders her as cold as the ice in her veins, her eyes close She never found the cold bothersome, not until she felt the warmth of Sky’s embrace and tender kisses.

“Yeah, well…things changed. You know very well how that came to be.“ Y/N’s response is surprisingly calm, but she’s certain Sky could read her emotions even without looking at her properly. After all, he knew her for so long…In a way, they grew up together.

“Why am I to blame for that, huh? I can’t help how I feel.“ Sky defends, lips parted as Y/N scoffs, turning back to face him.

She shakes her head slightly. It feels surreal that she has to have this conversation with him again.

“You left me standing there without a word. I poured my heart out and you had nothing to say! You couldn’t be with me? You’re not good enough? You can’t give me the answer I want? Well, guess what? I can’t give you the answer you want either.“ Y/N’s voice trembles as she speaks, feeling every muscle in her face clench under the pressure of keeping a straight face. Her entire body shakes, but she’s determined to keep herself centered.

Going to a dance with her best friend was meant to be fun and an experience she’ll never forget. However, the entire night she was stuck with Riven while the guy she wanted to dance with was away flirting with Stella, Bloom, everyone but her. She didn’t mind Riven, he’s definitely someone she considers to be very close to her heart, but she was in love with his roommate.

The guys took her home, Sky walked her to the door to make sure she got in safely. It gave her butterflies, but it was just who Sky is. He always made sure she was taken care of and protected. Always.

However, that night, Y/N was unsheltered, vulnerable in every way possible. She couldn’t keep her secret any longer.

Turning back, she looks at him, shaking. Averting her gaze to the right, only to focus it back on him, she wraps her arms around herself for reassurance.

“Everything okay?“ Sky steps closer, tilting his head.

Shaking her head as an answer, Y/N musters up some courage fueled by years of jealousy and heartache.

“Do you love me?“ She blurts out, slightly bouncing on her feet though the heels she wore made her feet hurt.

Sky smiles widely, rolling his eyes at her playfully before answering. “You know I do.“

Shaking her head furiously, feeling her heart beating so fast her head is pounding and her knees are weak, she explains.

“No, I mean. Do you LOVE me?“ she emphasizes, leaning on her right leg more for balance. She watches the look of realization cross his face, confusion taking place. He didn’t say a damn thing, just looked at her like she had uttered the most atrocious insult.

Blinking fast, she bites her lip so hard, feeling a metallic taste of blood in her mouth as a result.

“Sky, do you?“ Her voice cracks, the last part coming out almost as a whisper.

Sky stares at her, searching for an appropriate answer in her eyes in hopes of escaping this entire conversation, but he’s dead silent.

“Say something!“ She whisper shouts, desperate for a reply. She had opened up to him, completely vulnerable and at his mercy and all he gave in return was a lost stare and fast, shallow breathing by the way his chest moved.

Until he moved toward her, pushing her against the locked door. Before she has a chance to say anything, his lips capture hers and her eyes widen in shock. Arms wrapping around her waist gave her courage to entangle her hands in his hair, drawing him closer to her.

Breathless, she couldn’t think, she didn’t want to. Being in the moment, drowning in his tender, yet passionate touch was more than enough.

But as unexpected as the kiss was, so was the moment Sky broke it. He steps back, lips swollen and smudged from hers, even more kissable than before. He opens his mouth and Y/N’s ready to hear him say it back, to promise her they would try, but when Sky speaks, her heart breaks.

“I…I can’t give you the answer you want.“ Sky spoke slowly, continuing. “You’re…you’ve always been out of my league.“ Taking a step closer, he keeps talking as she grimaces at the unwanted closeness. Moments ago, Y/N wanted him closer, but it made her queasy now.

“You’re just so…perfect!“ He exclaims, outstretching his arms in her direction.

She tries to step back, tensing up as she realizes she’s backed against the door already. She has nowhere to run.

“I’m not good enough for you. I will NEVER be good enough to be with you.“ Sky’s arms return to his side, understanding she’s not interested in any sort of touching.

She nods in disbelief, not believing his logic nor the words he spoke. “You don’t get to use that as an excuse. Especially when it’s not true. But if this is the way you want to handle things….Then this is goodbye.“ 

Barely holding back tears, she watched Sky turn around, leaving her broken and alone with her heart bleeding on the ground after he so carelessly tossed it from his hands.

What hurts is that he didn’t even try to fight for her to at least remain a friend. He didn’t even try to stay. He simply stole her peace of mind and stomped on her heart and left.

In the end, the night was definitely one she wouldn’t forget, simply not for the good memories.

“I just want you back.“ Sky’s eyes brim with tears he hadn’t shed in years, leaving her speechless, but firm as he continues. “I’m not me without you.”  

Y/N couldn’t give in. Sometimes you have to take care of oneself and this is one of those times. She gave him every chance and when it came down to it, he didn’t take them. 

“I wanted many things and I didn’t get any of them. I don’t blame you for not loving me back, Sky. I don’t. I just wish you would understand how it feels for me.“ She says softly, feeling a crack in the tall, icy wall specifically meant to keep him out of her heart.

“I never said I don’t love you back”, Sky breathes out as the door opened again, Porter stepping out. 

Porter’s eyes immediately find hers, showing his concern and caution. “Everything okay here?“ Porter asks.

Folding her arms across her chest, she releases a shaky sigh. Did Sky really just admit he loves her too? Was it serious or just a way to keep her close?

She can’t make that into something it’s not. Not again.

“We’re okay. No biggie.“ She plasters a smile that Sky could read as a fake one a mile away, but Porter seems to be clueless.

“Want me to take you to your room?“ Porter returns her smile, standing in front of her. She notices he keeps glancing back at Sky, unsure of what went down moments before he arrived.

“Unless someone has something against it?“ She looks at her former best friend, hoping he’d give her a reason to stay. One word would be enough, to say that he really does love her again. She saw him saying it in her mind a thousand times, but in reality, his lips parted without a single word leaving his mouth. 

He didn’t care that much after all. If he did, it wasn’t enough. It’s just not enough.

Taking Porter’s hand, she smiles genuinely now, pulling him along without looking back.

“Let’s go.“

And all Sky can think of as he watches them leave is that it might take his whole life to make it right, but he truly felt he did the right thing for her; for them. He never dreamed it would have broken their friendship. 

Perhaps he’s guilty for the kiss he’d have died if he didn’t feel against his lips that night, because letting her go without ever tasting her would haunt him forever. 

Joke’s on him - the kiss, she, would haunt him regardless. It was the first time he felt connected to anything, but he isn’t good for her. Not now when his father is back and adamant on ruining his life.

He must protect her from Andreas and he will. Even if it costs him everything.

PART 2

[binniesthighs]

wetter | reader x minho

Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x lee minho 

Genre: smut, angst,  pwp 

Tags: harddom!minho, sub!reader, fuckboi!minho, fratboy!minho, waitstaff!reader, hookup au, degredation, penetration (r), oral and facefucking (m receiving), several mentions of gagging bc of deepthroating, fingering (r), semi-public sex (bathroom), quickie, cumshot (face), several allusions to infidelity 

Word count: 2.5k 

Requested: “hard dom!minho... with degradation...pls...”  &  “my thoughts are filled with hard dom!minho with degredation 🤤” (original ask)

There’s something intoxicating about hooking up with a person when the only thing that you know about them is the heat from their lips. 

Some would argue that this makes them less of a “person” but more of a fantasy. If you had know their name, it would’ve made other strings twist in the mix. If you had known their name, maybe you would have been inclined to look them up maybe, or even worse, fall asleep with their name running over and over in your mind. 

It was best when they tasted like sin and like the daydreams that you had never uttered. 

He wasn’t like the other men that you would lead into the spotless bathroom of the country club which practically shone from the hard work of janitors who were paid less than the meals served at the god-forsaken place. As a part of the wait staff, your pay was dismal, but at least you could get a good fuck out of it once and a while. 

Then men that would frequent the country club and golf course were always the kind that had starving hands and dicks that would twitch under their belts from the slightest brush of your hand. They were the kind of men who had wives, mistresses, and even handsome young men who could be at their beck and call. You liked to think that you were unlike those who they secretly craved. If anything, you were their daydreams. 

This man seemed to be no different--at least in looks. 

He sat with his legs spread where he socialized with his young friends on the veranda. The small group ate their salmon on bagels and caviar along with expensive cocktails that you barely knew the names of. A couple of them already had girls on their laps, and they fed them cherries which stained their plush (and likely fake) lips. 

This man sat alone with his cardigan and perfectly pressed pants and loafers that appeared to have never been worn before. He had barely touched his food, but rather seemed to satiate his appetite from the teasing and dumb laughter of his friends. Judging off of his chunky and extravagant watch, there must’ve been no way that he had paid for the thing himself. Daddy or Mommy’s money made him appear as if he was some heir or prince. He even smelled like one too. 

The male patrons would often follow the way that your hips moved when you walked to and from their table, or how your hands would rest on the crystal glass tables as you took their orders. You knew they must have been imagining what your fingers would’ve looked around their cocks. 

He even gave you the same look. 

You had guessed that he must’ve been college age or some kind of graduate. His friends wore Greek letters, so you assumed that he must have been one of the “brothers.” A long time ago, someone had told you to be especially careful of his breed of boy. 

“Care to accompany me away from this crowd?” He had whispered into your ear, tickling it, when you had reached across to grab the plates. 

 The other boys had decided to go to the pool or the gym--not that it mattered--and his hand crept behind your waist as soon as he had excused himself from the rest of the group. 

“I’ve got to call my mom real quick. If she wasn’t such a nag all the time...” 

He held your hand as if he had known you, but it was likely not to rouse suspicion. 

“Nice to meet you.” He sneers, looking back and passing the crowds of women in their feathered hats and other golfers in their finest designer polos and slacks. 

You nod, noting that his hand feels strong and domineering in your own, and you can’t even begin to wonder where he might be taking you. If you were lucky, they would take you to their rooms and lay you down on the California King Sized Mattress, then you wouldn’t have to bend uncomfortably. However, this wouldn’t always be the case. Most of them favored coat closets, bathrooms and powder rooms. 

You kept your head down as he pulled you further down hallways, praying that none of your coworkers would take notice. Some of them already had, however it wasn’t like any of them cared...not when they would often indulge in the same vice. Unhappy marriages were where most of you found some brief moments of happiness. 

The young man snickered finding his hiding place and promptly lead you along with him into the towel closet which had been unlocked by the pool boys. The door was painted white and louvered with slits for airflow. It was then when you knew this would have to be one of the times when you would have to bite your tongue back. 

He closed the door as quietly as he could, then turned to shove you back against it, and smear his heavy breaths over your mouth where he slicked his tongue against yours immediately. As he did so, his heated fingertips set to shrugging off your apron and hastily throwing it aside. You returned by sinking your fingers under his leather belt and jingling the metal around. If he was to see you bare, you wanted to see him too--something told you that he had something to show under his designer cardigan and this cotton shirt which must’ve cost a similar fortune. 

His abs were toned as you had expected, and they rippled under your fingertips. The young man popped the button to your pants, and you reciprocated doing the same. Just like the others, it barely took anything for him to get hard. His length swelled against your stomach and he grinded it into you too just so you could feel his eagerness. 

“You were practically asking to get fucked? Weren’t you? You whore.” 

The young man smiled out his poisonous words, but they felt as luxurious as they usually did when you had heard them grace your ears. He kissed you once again with a mixture of teeth and tongue that ran your lips raw while you pulled down his pants to his ankles and tugged at the elastic to his briefs. 

“Fuck, you really do want it that bad don’t you baby?” 

His hands palmed at your own quivering sex which had slicked with your own arousal from his greedy advances. His hand pushed at the confines of our underwear and pants where he started to rub incessantly, then ate up your shuddering moans which floated from your lips to his. 

All at once, he removed his hand and left your knees to buckle from the sudden lack of contact. With a deathly glare, he brought his fingers to your gasping mouth. 

“Wetter.”  He demanded before dipping them onto your tongue. You lathered them with your salvia where he twisted them around your muscle with the taste of bitter sweat and your own cum. 

Once he saw fit, he drew his soaked fingers back down to your waistband and resumed teasing at your sensitive skin. 

“You’d like to taste my cock wouldn’t you? Are you hungry enough for it, kitten?” 

You nodded, trying to hide your whimpering from his touch. 

“Get on your fucking knees then.” 

He nearly shoved your shoulders to the ground, but you didn’t need him to prompt you. You pulled down his briefs on your way down his body, springing free his hardened member that was wrapped in thick veins. You firstly jerked at his hooded shaft beading with his cum, and you kissed at his tip roughly too for good measure. 

“Did I say to tease me? Take me in your throat, you slut.” He slapped at your cheek, then aligned his dick with your lips. “What? Scared that it’s too much for you?” 

“No.” You answered while testing him from below. “I can take it.” 

“Show me.” 

You did so--even though his considerable length burned and stretched out your throat at first. You knew that sometimes they liked it when they saw you cry, so you let the tears well at their own will. You hummed against his dick while he pushed at your gag reflex. With your right hand, you took his shaft back to twist at it while your head bobbed. Your steady pace kept your gags at bay, but every so often he would jerk his hips a little with a grunt, and you would nearly loose your composure. 

“Is that as deep as you can take it? Fuck...here I was thinking that you would feel different...” 

The young man laced both of his hands to the sides of your face: the exact place to give a cue into his intentions. 

“Let me know if you need me to stop.” He growled. 

He fucked your face deeper and deeper, gradually working up to a pace that felt comfortable while you puffed up your cheeks. Gag after gag he teased, and the strings of your drool slicked and bubbled on his cock while dripping down your neck too. 

“Your pretty, tight, little throat feels so fucking good on my cock. Is that how you like it you cockslut?” 

Hot tears dripped down your cheeks while you nodded the best you could in response, and your feet startled to tingle where they had fallen asleep where you knelt. 

“Oh fuck yes.” 

All that you could do to steady yourself was claw at his lower back, then moan helplessly against his length which stretched you out so well, it was impossible that it had felt this good before. 

The young man pulled out after leaving your lips raw, pausing to pant like a wild animal while still firmly holding your head. You gasped, open mouthed, and sucked in air greedily while your spit strung from your lips to his cock. 

“Stand up.” He commanded, and pulled you to your shaking feet. “Ready to get fucked sweetheart?” 

“Y-yes.” You said, lightheaded, wiping the drool from your mouth onto your uniform sleeve. 

The young man smirked out before turning you face first into the door. “Good. Don’t make a fucking sound doll. That is, unless you want to get caught? To have someone see you fucked out like this?” 

“N-no...”  

“Lets feel then how tight this hole of yours is.” 

He let out a devilish sounding chuckle while bringing his hips to yours and coaxing his cock into your leaking entrance. He was just as thick in your hole as he had felt in your throat, and you squeaked out feeling the challenge. With your face pressed against the wooden door with ventilation slits, you could see the feet of those walking past, barely even knowing what had been occurring on the other side. Light from the hallway peeped in and striped over your whole body which the man ravished. 

“Spread your legs farther...that’s it...just like that.” 

The stranger thrust slowly at first, like he could just barely give you a taste of his full length; like you barely deserved it too. 

“Fells good, doesn’t it? Such an obedient little fucktoy for me, aren’t you? I bet you were dreaming of this happening weren’t you? ...Looking at me the way that you were...” 

“P-please...” You begged for him to quicken, but that wasn’t even your place. 

“Do you fuck everyone like how you fuck me? I should have guessed that you would put out for anyone with those coy glances. I’m no idiot.” 

“H-harder...fuck me harder...” 

“Harder?” The rich young man scoffed, “I get to decide when I go harder.” 

The man rolled his hips, and the patting of skin filled the darkened room. He gasped out while finding his rhythm, then reached around his fingers to tease at your lips once more. 

“Wetter.” He chanted. 

You did as you were told, he and rewarded you with the harsher grinding of his hips. Once his digits were properly wetted again, he brought them back to your throbbing sex, and rubbed at it with the same ferocity that he snapped. 

“Cum all over my fingers you whore, cum like you fucking want it.” 

His words were dizzying, and you gently rocked yourself over his hand and focused everything you could to drawing out your orgasm which was nearly there. 

“That's right. Fuck my fingers kitten.” 

The stranger too began to shake and you could sense that he had started to let go as well. The door rattled where he had you pressed against it, but he didn’t appear to care in the slightest. 

“Oh god,” You peeped as quietly as you could, and felt your orgasm begging wildly. 

He stopped for a couple moments to tap lightly into your arousal nearly on the edge, then laughed wickedly at the way that your whole body shook in response. All the while, his hips maintained their quick drags. 

“Cum for me.” He demanded once more, and you obliged, finally erupting over his fingers with the cream of your cum lathers over your thighs and wrapping around his digits. 

The words came out airy and broken, “S-shit....s-shit...” 

He had become unchained, then turned his whole attention to the way that his fingers dug into your hips and how he could graze you so deep inside, it was like nothing you had known of before. He then grabbed at your ass with the bite of his fingernails while he pumped with hitched breaths. 

“Back to your knees.” The command was sudden, but soon you found your shaking legs right back on the ground. 

The stranger jerked himself fervently with eyes screwed shut and his own soft moans trailing from his pink lips and wetted tongue. 

“Look at me.” He whispered. With one more flick of his wrist, he sent himself spewing his white and warm cum all over your face; ruining every feature. You closed your eyes to protect them but permitted your tongue to him freely where he jerked out the last of his milkly liquid directly onto your taste buds. His cum had painted your cheeks, and dripped from your jaw. At last you swallowed down the most you could with the bitter aftertaste that you had loved so much. 

“Well, that’s certainly a sight.” The man reveled at his work. 

You gasped out for him and grabbed a nearby towel to wipe the rest away, although he appeared somewhat disappointed by this. He too took a towel to wipe off his length and sweating forehead. After, he was silent picking up his clothes, and jingling his belt once more back over his waist. It often ended like this: the few words spoken in the moments before they left. 

“Thanks for that babe.” He grinned. “Name’s Lee Minho. ‘Hope I’ll be seeing you around again.” 

~🌹~ 

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz  @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @lmhmins @eunaeiekim

[potter-imagines]

Meadow (George Weasley x Reader)

Prompt: Hi, maybe fred or george (you can choose) and the reader are spending the afternoon in a flower meadow together? (sorry for my english, it's not my first language)🙈😊

Notes: okay I'm sure spring break isn't a thing at hogwarts but for this write, it is . hope you enjoy !!

Warnings: none, just a lot of fluff cause everyone loves george

Word Count: 3.5k

Spring break was winding down to a close as early April broke through. New life was brought to fruition as the snow from the harsh winter evaporated into the ground. Outside the grounds of the Weasley’s home were fields and fields of open land. Flowers sprouted in every step creating a kaleidoscope of colors. Those tumbling plains seemed to extend for miles beyond the horizon. Just beyond those grassy hills and slopes was a large, secluded meadow.

It was the early hours of a Saturday morning when a pair invaded the area far before the sun began to rise. The meadow Y/n and George had been occupying seemed to be the perfect location to view the birth of the new season. The perfect spot to enjoy each other’s company. Soon they would be ushered back to Kings Cross and board the Hogwarts Express- George for his last time and Y/n, well it certainly wouldn’t be her last time, no matter how hard she dreamed it was. The topic of George leaving Hogwarts was one the couple tip-toed around. Break was only two weeks but that meant two extra weeks for the pair to be together. With the school year tumbling to an end, George would be leaving school soon with his brother to start his dream and Y/n would be stuck needing to finish her last year at Hogwarts alone. The girl was a year below her boyfriend and although it never caused any friction for the pair, the gap was finally giving them issues.

In George’s mind, arriving to his last school year was both an accomplishment, and a burden. As excited as he was to finally leave those stone walls that held him back, the last thing he wanted was to leave her behind. It didn’t make any of the pain easier knowing that he’d be leaving alongside Fred earlier than the rest of their classmates. Y/n had been the only other living soul Fred and George had filled in on their grand exit plan. They needed someone to keep guard and be a lookout so who better than the one person they trusted not to run their mouth.

There was a heavy smell of earth in the air, mixed with the faint odor of new growth. The vivid green leaves and the cheerful colors of the blossoms are a feast. Flowers popped up from the soiled ground and the fruit hanging from the trees were starting to come to life.

The couple had spent a good portion of their break at the secluded meadow. In a way, it became their little secret spot. Not that it was a secret location by any means. Fred and George had discovered the meadow a few years back when they had ventured miles away from the burrow. The boys were always adventurous, especially when Molly and Arthur finally allowed them free range outside the family home when they were eleven. There were miles and miles of tall grass and woodland that made it easy to get lost. Of course with Fred and George, losing their way was never a worry. When the boys stumbled upon the breathtaking meadow, George seemed to be the only one interested in their find. Fred had wandered off into the section of forest they entered through, his attention captured by a group of baby deer camouflage in the woods. For years George would wander back to the meadow on his own when he needed a break from the loudness of his siblings or grew tired of Ron trailing on his coattails every turn. He promised himself he would keep the spot to himself, let it be his own private sanctuary. This plan ran smooth for a few years before George made the exception to break the rule for one person only.

But for now, the two could only take advantage of the time they had together and they didn’t intend to spend a second apart. It looked as if Y/n and George had stepped straight into a storybook. The grass was Eden-green and thigh-high to a thrush. A neon-blue ribbon of river ran through the ground in a squiggle line. A party of bright yellow ducklings scattered in the calm water, small quacks filling the air. Chirping and sweet songs from the birds made that feeling of Spring become a reality. Buzzing bumble bees and wildflowers sprung along the land. The sounds of nature engulfed the girl whole as she melted into the soft grass.

“I could stay here for the rest of my life- away from people, away from the world. It’s peaceful.” Y/n hummed softly. Her large doe eyes observed the clouds that formed a perfect line-up in the baby blue sky, as if they were boats safely moored in celestial harbour. Peeks of sunlight seeped in through the cracks in the fluffy clouds casting a shimmering light as they danced slowly by in the sky. Just a moment before she was listing off all the animals and objects she saw in the sky. Now she was considering the thought of staring at them forever.

George stole a quick glance down where she laid in his lap. Strands of her h/c hair flowing across his legs and hands. It tickled against his skin as a light breeze swept past. Her abrupt words had caught him off guard. He had missed the sound of her voice for the last hour, although adored the trance-like state of happiness that she was in so he was constantly biting his tongue to keep his thoughts from pouring out. Now that she was somewhat back to earth, he was eager to chat. Tilting his head in her direction George raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah?” He questioned.

A smile graced her lips as she nodded in confirmation. The land was beautiful, unlike anything she had seen. There certainly weren’t any meadows with such serenity as this in the city of London. For once in her life she could hear the sound of her heart beating in the quietness of the open land and she loved it. No cars honking, no crabby cityfolk shoving their way through crowds, no taxi drivers screaming at pedestrians to move, no bright lights, just nature and all of its creations.

Extending her arm, Y/n pointed out to the land. George followed her direction to see she was gesturing to a small section of the meadow that was surrounded by an eyecatching army of poppies and bellflowers. A large willow tree stood towering over the side. In the middle was a bare section- large enough for a home to fit. Y/n grinned in excitement as she suddenly sat up straight.

“Yeah. Build a little cottage, start a garden, maybe even a family… I think it would be lovely.” She said dreamily. Her eyes looked up to George in wonder, silently asking him to share his opinion. Mirroring her previous actions, George scanned the meadow. He placed his hand against his chin, pretending to think long and hard about her idea. Y/n giggled besides him and shoved him lightly on the shoulder. He chuckled in response and leaned back into the log supporting him. George nodded in agreement to the pondering dream.

There was a casual grace to the meadow, as if it has a peripheral awareness of its own beauty yet would rather be at peace in this warm sun. It was quaint and humble yet glowing in - like a glorious mansion hidden away in a forest. A hidden gem that was to be kept away from the rest of society. Their own little happy place that opened and bloomed just for them. There was something so magical about the meadow that George couldn’t pass it up. It felt like fate leading him there- leading them.

“Think we could make that work. The family part is a definante- it’s just building a home that’ll take a bit of time. We could get started on making a family of our own right now-” George was cut off when a hand clamped over his mouth. Although he was only joking, he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.

“George-” She warned playfully.

“Or in a few years. But living out here would be nice. ‘S not like I got to worry about commuting for work. It’d be a nice escape from the shop once we get business running, and once you graduate. Not to mention moving out here would mean I’d get to see more of you in that pretty dress. Flowers in your hair... you look so enchanting, darling.” A bashfulness struck Y/n to her core at his words. Her eyes instinctively shot down to the grass as a paint of red rose to her face. George’s heart quite literally stuttered at her reaction. Making her blush, seeing her smile because of something he said never failed to bring a sense of happiness to George. That damn smile, he thought to himself. He was sure she could convince him of anything when that innocent look took over. It was natural for her. Y/n was simply ethereal in every way.

His hand brushed as gently as a feather across the skin of her cheek. Pushing the daisy back in place behind her ear, George drew his hand down from her ear to her neck. Gripping her softly George pulled her towards his body, lessening the space between the pair. Dipping his head he leaned in towards the girl until their lips were only inches apart. He smirked teasingly, ready to make a remark when Y/n took matters into her own hands.

Linking her hand around his chin she pulled his face in hers with a deep kiss. Although she initiated the gesture, it was George’s response that made her lose all sense of control. His large hands moved from her face to her waist in an instant. Much to Y/n’s surprise he lifted her without warning, still holding her lips in his, and placed her in his lap so she was facing him. Her hands instinctively switched to wrap around his neck for stability. Fingers gripped at his short ginger locks as she adjusted her hips into his.

Y/n’s heart pounded in her chest as her entire body got weaker. She could only focus on how soft he felt against her mouth, how addictively he invaded all her senses. Everytime their lips met a rush of adrenaline and love ran through her veins. The muscles in her body went limp at his touch, jelly like. George held a tight lock around her waist keeping her steady against him. He slipped his tongue against her mouth, visibly shuddering when she slid her tongue against his in return. Tension was pooling by the second as the kiss intensified. Y/n’s strawberry dress cascaded down the side of legs as she repositioned in his lap earning a groan from George. Hot breath fanned against her face briefly at her movements. His hand darted from the small of her back to the exposed skin on her upper thigh, pushing her further into his body. The vibration of his voice against her lips and the tight grip of his hands on her thighs sent shivers down her spine. His kiss was sweet, like a long awaited embrace. Stars blurred her vision as George gripped her against his chest. The moment was quickly turning into a not so innocent kiss causing Y/n to slowly detach her lips from his. As she pulled away she remained sat in his lap, fingers brushing along the skin of his face as she admired his beauty. A smug smile was displayed on his face while he repositioned his hands behind his body to hold the pair up. Still holding his face in her palms, Y/n pressed forward to scatter a line of kisses on his cheeks. He chuckled in amusement before her kiss latched to his mouth once more. Between short and passionate pecks she fought for words to tell him how much he meant to her. She wanted to tell him all the emotions of love and desire he brought onto her. Tell him how she could never live with another- how he was the only one she wanted for the rest of her life.

“You’re too good to me, George.” She whispered against his lips. The lack of space between them was intoxicating. Heat emanated from George’s cheeks as he desperately attempted to regain his breath and compose himself. His chest was light with air caused by the sweetness of the girl before him. A small smear of glitter lip gloss covered his bottom lip in a shine.

George tasted a hint of bubble gum as his tongue swept along the skin of his bottom lip.

“I’d give you the whole world if I could but I’m afraid I don’t have the coins for that yet, princess.” Pressing his forehead against hers, George hummed the words. Y/n shook her head with a smile as she countered his grand proposition with one of her own.

“All I need is a quaint, cozy cottage out here and you… well a dog or a kitten would be nice too.” She laughed.

George could only stare at her in that moment. Her words registered although the naturalness to her beauty was too much for him to process. The sun hit her back in with such purpose it was as if she were an angel breaking through the sky. Her strawberry midi dress flowed down her sides and pooled in between his legs. Pretty pink satin clung to her form. The sparkling red strawberries fitted her perfectly. The ruffles on her shoulders gave her the look of a cottage princess, a fairy even. Hair flowing freely in the wind, it was a sight he’d never grow tired of seeing. He’d never seen someone as breathtaking as her.

Taking advantage of his silence, Y/n looked up to George in seriousness. His large brown eyes stared lovingly back to her. Gesturing to the meadow surrounding them, Y/n asked him,

“Do you think you’d be happy out here?”

George tore his stare from the girl to scope out the land once more. All the years he spent wandering down here alone in his mind and looking for some sort of answer to life, now he had found it. He could already picture where he would build a playset for the children and where he’d be able to make a small Quidditch pitch to teach your future kids. Ideas were forming for the house and how many rooms you’d both want. George was thinking somewhere around eight- extra room for more kids. Mapped out where the house would go, where he’d build a garden for you, figured out what tree would be perfect for him to put together a treehouse with Fred for the kids, and where the path would go towards the lake. The layout was quickly forming and he wanted in.

Y/n watched in curiosity as the thoughts swarmed through her lover’s head. She could see him intently thinking things over, then smiling before tilting his face back down at the girl. His head moved down so his lips could press against the skin of her forehead as he kissed her.

“Darling, as long as I’m with you, I’ll be more than happy.” He reassured her.

Y/n melted into the warmth provided by his lips. Her body leaned into his, desperate for more of him. George wrapped his arm around her shoulder tightly and fixed his body so he was sitting tall. She clung to his frame like a koala to a tree, burying her face into the material of his hoodie.

“Once I graduate?” Her muffled voice vibrated against his sternum. George ran his fingers up and down her spine as he held her tight.

“Once you graduate.” George repeated sincerely. Although they’d gone over the conversation a million different times, Y/n couldn’t help the shadow of doubts that crept into her mind. She trusted George with all her heart- every inch of her being but they’d be living in two separate worlds for a year and she worried that was something he might not want. Maybe he would realize he wanted to be with a girl his age, or someone older, someone not stuck at Hogwarts. Even without reason for worry, it still came.

Remaining in his hold yet moving back slightly, Y/n’s eyes darted to the flower covered ground. Her fingers ran along the petals absentmindedly as she worked to find the courage to speak. Her shift in emotions did not go unnoticed by the boy. George focused on the look of contemplation adorning her. As adorable as she looked, he hated seeing her in the slightest bit of distress. This went for any situation whether Y/n was stressed about a class, feeling ill, or just sad because she’s hungry, George does everything in his control to fix it for her.

“You’ll wait for me?” The sudden question took George aback. Her tone was a mix of innocence and fear. His confusion arose for the grave manner of her inquiry. Even if her worries were astonishingly unworldly to George, he knew better than to shut down her insecurities brashly. If the topic at hand weren’t so significant to their relationship, he might even crack a joke. However the seriousness in her features was not to be ignored.

George reached out to interlock his fingers through her warm hands. That comforting smile of his graced his face as he brought her knuckles up to his lips and placed a trial of kisses along the bones.

“Of course I’ll wait, love. No other girl I’d want to spend the rest of my life with- no other girl I want to call my wife, the mother of my children. No one but you, my love.” George insisted. It seemed magical to Y/n the way he always knew exactly what to say. Always so heartfelt and honest in meaning. He never told her a lie to make her happy but somehow managed to piece together a perfect string of words to make her whole again. Something in the way he spoke, in his words, it made her believe nearly anything was plausible. Most of all, she trusted him and believed that he had every intention of sticking around, which brought a sneaking grin to Y/n’s face. All those worries washed away at his words. It was a part she loved deeply about him.

The feeling of George’s touch smoothing over the bottom of her pink dress pulled Y/n back to the meadow. The scent of lavender and vanilla wafted past his nose from the perfume he had gifted her for Christmas. His fingers would skim against her bare leg in a teasing fashion as he smirked. Y/n let out a giggle at the tickling sensation of his touch. Her arms wrapped around his neck for support while her bashful grin never ceased.

“There’s that pretty smile.” George remarked with a chuckle. A sense of victory took hold of him at seeing her worries vanish. Arms locked around his neck, Y/n pulled him towards her as her head fell to his chest. Given their limited time, all the couple wanted to do for the next month was be in each other’s arms. George cherished every opportunity he got to hold her, knowing he’d spend the next year missing her everyday. It came in the little things as well like the way her hair always smelled like a basket of delicious fruits, or how she’d hum to herself while they were studying together. He already knew he’d spend most days babbling on to Fred about how much he missed Y/n. Break was almost over which meant the twins would be leaving Hogwarts for good within a few weeks. Y/n dreaded the idea of not seeing George every day, not getting to kiss him or hug him. George hated thinking about having to hear from her through letters and not getting to hear that sweet laughter every day. So for now, all George wanted was to hold his girl and enjoy the excitement for their future he felt budding inside of him.

The colors in the sky were starting to grow brighter by the minute and without saying it, the pair both knew they’d be needing to head back to The Burrow for lunch sooner then they’d care to admit. In the serenity of the meadows the couple found a sense of home. Y/n soaked in their last bits of time in the meadow before George mentioned them heading back. Although neither moved at his words but instead remained holding onto one another.

“I love you, George.”

“I love you more, princess.”

[selinakidreams]

suck: Bokuto Koutarou

big boy bo is most definitely into tongue sucking this is something you may not fight me on,, and as you can tell from the title,,, this man likes having it done to him,, again, will not be taking arguments on this :D

genre: smut

warnings: more tongue sucking brrrr, foreplay, uhh slight fem!dom?, non-penetrative sex, praise kink, size kink if you squint

masterlist for suck or be sucked is here!

“You know Ko.. watching you at practice… you do a lot with your body…?” you trail off, eyes racking over your boyfriend's slouched frame. You knew you phrased it- quite literally- all wrong and incredibly awkward. It came out more as a question than a seductive statement- You couldn’t help it though, the sight in front of you made your brain shut down.

Partially lit up by the changing scenes of the television, Bokuto Koutaro was sinking into the cushions of the couch, arm slung over the back of the sofa in nothing but his boxer briefs and a t-shirt he swore wasn’t too tight for him. Even when relaxed, you could see the tone of his muscles- each and every outline through his clothes.

“Uhh yea! I have to use my body with full force to spike the ball over the net and land that point. I can’t just use my arm.” He awkwardly chuckles.

You two had just come back from Bokuto’s MSBY practice and the whole time you were practically trying to keep yourself from salivating. To say you were a fan of his body would be stating an understatement.

“Baby,” you tried again, shifting towards him so that you were sitting on your calves, hands placed on the top of your thighs. The movement and new position drew all of Bokuto’s attention to you; not one wavering glance to the tv.

You couldn’t tell if he figured out what you were trying to get at but you pressed on anyway.

“I-,” the pressure was on. When Bo’s full attention was on you, face as curious and innocent as can be, it was even harder to get out what you wanted to say, much less string two coherent thoughts together.

He softly spoke your name before saying, “whatever it is you want to say, take your time. I can wait.”

What threw you off was the mischievous glint in his eyes.

So he did know what was going on. This made things a lot easier.

“Kōtarō, come here.”

He didn’t hesitate. Always your attentive boy, and he prides himself on that.

Bokuto loves it when you get like this, when you take control and do as you please. He is the kind of partner that gets off on knowing that you’re enjoying yourself and from the looks of it, you have a plan. He’s in for a treat.

You let your hands wander his body, touch as light as a feather over his intricate muscles.

“Fuck…,” You relish the way he leans into your touch. “Watching you practice.. god I wanted you to fuck me right in the bleachers… but for right now.. we’re gonna do something a little different.”

Bokuto’s face was a mere centimeters away from yours, his lips ghosting your own. He responded in a whisper as he leaned in, “And what would that be, doll?”

Instead of fully pulling away, you moved to straddle his lap; giggles dancing out of your mouth as he looked up at you with those wide golden eyes. With the new found pressure applied on the bulge in his pants, putting on the innocent facade was getting harder and harder for him.

It started off at his ear, you lightly licked the shell before going down to nibble on his earlobe; a low grunt signaling it was time for you to move to the next area: the neck.

As you nip and suck at the speeding pulse, your hands went to his pecs where you kneaded his chest and drew soft outlines around his nipples. They hardened instantly, his quiet panting became only heavier with the start of him rutting onto you to relieve some friction.

Bokuto went to pull you in for a feverish kiss, but you stopped it, putting a single finger over his readying lips.

“No no Ko, let me do all the work. I’m sure that you have to be tired from practicing for so long and I just wanna make… you.. feel good.” You teasingly taunted ever so close to his lips.

Bokuto let out a delicious moan that riled something in you, it drove you to completely skip the original ide of teasing him for far too long and just get to the best part.

You slunk off of his lap and onto your knees- you didn’t want to completely rid all teasing though, just keeping it where it counts. Your hand ghosted over his throbbing cock to reach for the waistband of his shorts, feeling the slight twitch. You didn’t pull them down completely, but with his help, just enough to have his dick spring free and greet you, head shining with beads of pre-cum.

So pretty, you thought before making eye contact with Bo while lowering yourself closer to his cock.

Not breaking the gaze was easy for you, you basked in his squirms. Plus, watching those facial expressions contort was a huge bonus.

Kitten licking the tip, you hummed at the taste, shifting to lick a fat stripe along the thick vein curving up his shaft.

“I can’t ever get enough of your dick- fuck .. look at how pretty it is.. waiting for me to give it all the attention its begging for..” you moan, all your fingers going from the base trailing up to his head and repeating the motion as you began a trail of kisses from his pelvis up. A breathy whimper left his lips, making you smile mid kiss.

Bokuto would try and thrust into your hand but you made no effort into actually relieving him, continually repeating the same action.

“Baby please-“ he managed to choke out before lying back into the couch.

“Shh Ko... you’re so defined and toned.. mmm fuck you’re so sexy,” your lips hover over his abs right before you lick a thick stripe up to his pecks.

“H-ah… ngh- y/n please,” bokuto huffed again; each beg, huff, whine, and plea went straight to your core- but this wasn’t about you, not just yet.

You took one of his nipples in your mouth, twirling your tongue around it; your other hand came to tease the neglected one, leaving his dick unattended and angrier than before.

“s-sh-it,” he gasped.

A soft chuckle waved through you, entertaining the hardened buds a little longer before switching tactics.

You pulled off his pecs and stood up, admiring the disheveled veiw of your boyfriend. There in front of you was your big mighty man reduced to a needy boy who’s dick was crying against his pelvis. You almost felt bad.

As your smirk grew, you went to straddle his legs again, but this time you strategically maneuvered his member into your panties, placing him in between your lips.

Bo salivated at the new position, you were so wet for him; lubed him up so quick.

“Ko.. there’s one rule to this position if you want to cum..” you breathed out, “you don’t get to put it in me until I say so.”

To this, his jaw fell slack but he didn’t have time to process anything because next thing he knew, your hot puffy lips met with his in a sloppy kiss. He followed in hot pursuit as he delve deeper into the kiss with full thrusts along the entirety of your pussy, brushing your clit with each go.

Your breathing became ragged, “Kōtarō! Ah! Baby- f-UCK!” All of your moans were swallowed by his grunts. His body was so big, when he wrapped his arms around your waist, you felt so small against him. It only made you want to be even more dominant.

His tongue went into your mouth and you took that opportunity to mesh both of your damp muscles before pulling away slightly and giving yourself leverage to wrap your lips around his tongue. Almost instantly he froze, stopping all movements.

This was new.

His reaction caused you to pause but the moan he let out signaled you to continue sucking all the way to the tip before pulling off and looking into Bokuto’s eyes. They were full of shock, but a different shade. A darker shade.

“Did Ko like it when I sucked his tongue?” You cooed. You didn’t miss the twitch of his cock against you yet, he stayed unmoving, still trying to process the wave of pleasure that ran through him.

Slowly with a roll of his hip, soliciting a low moan from you, you saw that he stuck his tongue out again. He wanted you to take it.

Your excited giggle fills the room and you have a quick lick to his before grinding down on him and taking in his wet muscle again, this time sucking a little harder.

When you let off with a muted pop, he said in such a low tone that you felt it through your chest all the way down to the pooling heat right above Bokuto’s cock, “Alright puppy,” as he spoke, he pet the top of your hair before sliding his hand around your neck in one swift motion, “time for me to cum and I want you to lap up every single drop.”

—-

tags: @twilightwrites

[juminly]

Poison & Wine (Dabi x Reader)

Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia.  Pairing: Dabi x Female!Reader.  Summary: Dabi just wanted you to pour him some wine. Things just get a bit more heated from there as you when you get a good taste of him... and he just does the same.  Rating: Explicit. (Minors, DNI) Warnings: Alcohol Consumption, Pet-Play, Teasing, BDSM, Desk Sex, Rough Sex, Slight Degradation, Blow-Job, Hate sex?, A tiny tiny bit of Gore, Doggy-Style, Hair-Pulling, Creampie.  Word Count: 4.7k ~ –♥– There he goes again. Calling you a puppy and asking you to go fetch him a bottle of wine. Emphasis on the word bottle cause God forbid you got him something else, he was going to burn something to ashes and you would have to suffer the consequences, for whatever reason that may be. Out of all of the villains you met, Dabi was the worst of them all. You've heard much about him, those bright and deadly blue flames of him that strike both fear and bewilderment in your heart.

He was different from them all. You knew exactly why but never dared to say it.

You had no idea why he was in Kurogiri/Shigaraki's study and you couldn't care less. Or that's what you told yourself. Even before you found yourself accidentally associated in one of the League of Villains crimes, you had no choice but to join them, even if you were but a mere quirkless human. You used your talents to do research, aka gathering intelligence on the public's opinion on the war between heroes and villains in return for their protection, keeping you from getting locked in prison for life, for a crime that you didn't even commit.

Opening the door to the study, a small gasp escaped your lips which you immediately masked with a few words, the surprise you felt betrayed you and ringing clearly in your voice even when you huffed as disgruntledly as you could. "H-Here's the bottle. Where do you want it?"

Sitting in a disheveled button down white blouse, his chest was on full display, showcasing the staples that joined the curved lines of his pale skin with the wrinkled burnt flesh, the contrasting purple was never something you could get used to, especially when you thought about how he even suffered such atrocious injuries. But it was... his hair, stark white compared to the usual black that he wore, the spiky locks appeared to glow when he brushed a scarred hand between them while he looked up blankly at the ceiling.

When was he going to acknowledge you? Or at least the wine that you brought him?

Even with his physique covered in marred skin, his turquoise eyes gazing at you with nothing but complete disinterest, evidently bored with your mere existence as he always seemed to remind you with either his words or his actions. You could offer him nothing, annoying him to the point of contempt. Why was he so pissed off with you being around? Why did he treat like you were some sort of slave? You had no idea.

Well, he could kill you right on the spot so you had better do as he said, having the power to go down in flames in a split-second, turn you to nothing without a blink of his gorgeous eyes. It was a challenge, you finding him incredibly and criminally attractive, spending countless nights with your fingers, knuckles deep inside your dripping cunt, calling out Dabi’s name… wishing that you knew his real one.

Fuck him for making you feel this way. Literally.

If only.

"Is that how you speak to your Master, little puppy?" He smirked, the words dragging from his lips as he drawled teasingly, not even bothering to sit up and look at you as he addressed you. You were wondering why he didn’t even speak to you when your feet had been frozen in place, your mind travelling to a place so far away… a place that could never exist. One where you… "If you know what's best for you, come here and pour me some." Dabi interrupted your thoughts, his raspy voice portraying his bubbling frustration.

Fucking son of a bitch. Walking towards him, you stood behind the chair he was slouching on, looking down at him yet his eyes were still trained on the ceiling, flickering only momentarily towards you then back on whatever it is he was staring at. What the hell was he looking at? Tilting your head upwards, you found nothing. Just the plain white ceiling. Okay… weird. Sighing, you brought your attention back to him and droned, your own irritation with him growing. “Do you have a glass somewhere around here? You just asked me to fetch the damn bottle.” Idly lifting his hand towards his face, you watched as one of his long bony fingers pinched one of the staples by his lips, plucking them out without even a wince and he did the same on the other side, snickering at your reaction. He didn’t even have to look at you to see you wince at his seemingly masochistic behaviour, the pain actually a feeling that he welcomed with open arms, amongst other sensations that he sought. Right then, he just really wanted some liquor in his system and to spite Kurogiri. It was no one’s business why he wanted to do so but unjustifiably consuming heaps of the man’s favourite wine. That would definitely do it. “Quit your damn yapping? I swear, you’re worse than fucking white noise.” Now that he removed one of the staples, Dabi could open his mouth even wider, his long tongue lapping up at the small trail of blood that oozed from the small pricks on his skin, the familiar metallic taste settling on his tongue eliciting a small groan of approval from him. “Why would I need a damn glass when I’ve got a puppy to help me drink it all up?” Without even waiting for your response, Dabi glared at you from the corner of his eyes, his head tilted back with his mouth wide open, waiting for you to actually move. You didn’t know why you let him string you along the way he did but here you were, popping the wine bottle open and tipping it slowly, watching the vinaceous liquid flow into Dabi’s expectant mouth. Your eyes remained trained on him, observing how he let the liquid accumulate in his mouth, then swallowing it in large gulps, his adam’s apple protruding visibly from his throat, you found yourself mesmerized by the way it bobbed up and down as he continued to take more and more of the wine inside his body. The moment you tried to tip the bottle back a bit, easing slightly on the amount you poured, a threatening groan rumbled in his chest, making you roll your eyes at him. “You can choke on that damn wine for all I care. I won’t stop until you finish the bottle then.”

The corner of his lips, of his face to be more accurate, turned up into a malicious smirk, as derisive as he ever was, his turquoise eyes staring into yours as the wine began to seep past his lips and broken flesh. A blood-red trail began meandering down his face, tracing the skin of his neck as it began to flow freely, painting a stream of crimson rivers along the valleys of his sculpted chest, as if it were worshipping the ripples of his scarred skin and reaching down to the end of the path, right by his Adonis belt where Dabi’s low-hanging pants lied. You could feel your throat getting dry, thoughts playing over what the man that lounged before you looked like past his well-defined V-line. How much of a tease could he be? Not only was he sitting in an almost indecent manner, practically asking for you to drool and swoon all over how fuckable he was? God knew how much you craved him, the countless fantasies of yours where he just gripped you by the neck and railed you, leaving you breathless, with a sore pussy and legs that practically turned into jelly.

“Hey!” He snapped you out of your lustful reverie, realizing that you had already emptied the bottle, tiny droplets were now falling on Dabi’s face and trickling down his chin. He cocked an eyebrow at you, not bothering to wipe the rivulets of wine that joined the red roadmap that you drew on his imperfectly perfect banging body. Hngh, why the fuck did he make you this thirsty? “Yo, pup. You gonna stop spacin’ out and clean up this damn mess?”

Normally, you would’ve just walked away but something kept your damn feet glued to the floor, your eyes searching around the room for napkins. It wasn’t like anything in this damn room could be used to get those wine stains off his shirt. With the same hand you held the wine bottle in, you placed it over your hip and the other on your waist, informing him despondently. “There ain’t any tissues here so you’ll have to make do with that already ruined shirt of yours.

“You’re running that pretty mouth of yours. I’m sure you could put it to better use.”

“Yeah, I could.” You replied, without even realizing the implications of your own words.

”Then get on with it.” Dabi rolled the chair a tad and spread his legs even wider, giving you enough space to step in between them and you did exactly just that. With his eyes closed shut, he just let you take matters into your own hands, thinking you were the one in control. You didn’t think your actions through but you found yourself hovering over him, balancing yourself with your hands on the back of the chair. Leaning down, your tongue trailed over the corner of his jawline, the tender feeling of his marred skin strange but not revolting in the least. 

It was exhilarating, finally being able to have your lips on his body, to know how he felt and especially the part of him that made him seem even more of a ‘bad guy’. In your eyes, he was the hottest fucker you could have your hands on and right then, your lips wantonly kissed down the column of his neck, sucking on his skin, looping your tongue around his collarbone. Hiking down his chest, you lapped up the crimson liquid, sucking on the piercing rings that adorned his nipples. Why was he like this? Why was it that he didn’t seem the least bit affected by this? You could already feel your body running hot, adrenaline rushing through your veins. He didn’t ask for you to do anything to pleasure him but this certainly came as an added bonus, his pants tightening with every brush of your wet tongue, every kiss from your soft perfect lips on his hideous self. The smile that turned up the corner of his lips was an involuntary one, a certain anticipation building inside of him to see how you would react as you travelled further down his ripped body, reaching where his pants were feeling tight as shit. Oh well, it was going to hurt if he just relieved himself as you did your thing. Now, would it? His hands were focused on freeing his half-erect cock from his pants and damn, it was a good day to have gone commando and be chilling with wine just streaking his body and a good puppy just licking it all off. Now that your lips had already found his rib cage, intricately and delicately licking all traces of red from his skin, a small yelp escaped you as your upper lip got caught on one of the staples. While crouching down so you could tend to his abs, completely ignoring the nick of your lips, Dabi grabbed your chin and tilted your head up before your knees could touch the floor, before you could finally get to the part you’ve always dreamed of. Licking his abs. With your eyes locked on turquoise, you gulped loudly as he hunched forward abruptly, capturing your upper lip between his and sucked lazily, dragging his tongue lazily over the bit of blood that dripped from your soft flesh. To keep yourself from falling, you stabilized yourself with your hands on his knees, reeling over him hungrily as he teased you by letting his tongue delve into your mouth, brushing against the roof of your mouth, having you let out an involuntary preen at the shivering sensation that washed over you. Before you could even kiss him back or even get a better taste of him, he broke your bind with a final suck, licking his lips as he slouched back against the chair once again.   Fuck. You knew that he was packing under the belt but holy shit, you weren’t expecting to see Jacob’s Ladder pierced from the base of his cock right to his tip. His loose grip on his length made your mouth water, your mind certainly no longer focused on his abs but on the way you saw his thick shaft lay heavy in his palm, hardening by the second as he brushed the underside with his thumb. “You’re really provin’ to be a bad pup. There’s still some wine left.” Giving him your best glare, you propped yourself comfortably between his thighs, slapping his hand away from his cock, earning you a warning glare of his own. “Shut up. I’ll get to it later. Let me help you with this.” You grumbled, wrapping your lithe fingers around his girth with one hand, dragging your fingers up and down the underside of his cock, feeling the bumps of the cool metal in the experimental trail you drew, just to gauge his reaction. Staring at you with half-lidded eyes, his face stretched into a lazy smirk, his tongue wetting his lower lip in a swift sweep. “You’re just hungry for my cock, huh? Could’ve just said so.” Lifting his hands to cradle the back of his head, he was ready to enjoy the show. Prying your mouth slightly ajar, you began by giving him kitten licks around his tip with your palm squeezed the base of his cock, focusing on pumping him with a steady rhythm. Your curiosity guided you as you enveloped his tip with your mouth, suckling on it harder while your tongue swept on the underside of his shaft, teasing him around the metal circle you found there then up to his slit, feeling the salty taste of his pre-cum hit your tongue. You really tried, really did but ultimately failed when you moaned appreciatively as he got thicker inside your mouth, motivating you to open even wider and take him even deeper into your mouth, releasing your hands to tend to his balls, kneading them with enough pressure to have him twitch against your tongue. Your eyes fleeted up towards him, finding Dabi still wearing the stoically unimpressed expression he usually had. You had a fucking mouthful of his cock and he wasn’t even batting an eyelash. What kind of self-control did this guy have? “Didn’t know that you like having your mouth full of cock, puppy.” He chuckled deep and low, the rumbling only infuriating you… and arousing you too. Lowering yourself down further, you flattened your tongue against him, letting it glide over his hard cock, sucking him deeper as while you hollowed your cheeks, choking slightly the moment he hit the back of your throat. Wait… he wasn’t all the way in yet! You were going to have to ease him even further inside in your next try. Sucking in a deep breath, you swirled your tongue around his length languorously, making sure that every bit of him was warm and slick, your mouth feeling immediately lighter as you suckled on his tip. Just thinking about how big he is had you squirming, your panties growing slick with the thought of him stretching your tight pussy with his thick cock. With your strong resolve, you relaxed your jaw and swallowed him whole this time, bobbing your head over him as drool dripped from your lips, the wet noises of your sucking getting louder as you moved with smug eagerness. If you were looking to get a reaction out of him, well… you were better off looking elsewhere.

“You’re gonna keep wagging your tail like a bitch in heat?” You suddenly felt his hand on you, gripping your hair harshly. He yanked your head away from him, his cock slipping out of your mouth with a loud wet pop, you licked up the drool seeping from the corner of your mouth. “You wanna choke on my dick or stuff your dripping pussy with me?” He spoke harshly between his teeth, the aggression in his words making your core clench with need, fucking reeling just for him to finally fuck you the way you always wanted. “You’re drooling for my cock and I’m being nice enough to ask you what you want. Answer me.”

With your lips parted, you gasped for air, the heat pooling between your legs was something that you could no longer ignore despite the fact that you hated how much your body just ached him. ”Get your fucking hands off me.” Gripping his hand tightly, you sank your nails into his skin and removed it from the crown of your head and back to his side. “Since you asked me, ‘nicely’, what I want…” You spat venomously at him, unzipping your pants and popping the button before shimmying out of them, your hips moving side to side as you slid your panties down along with it, turning around to step your feet out of them, exposing your bare ass to Dabi’s now slightly more interested eyes. “Mhm… I always thought you had a nice ass, puppy but I’m actually impressed.” You felt a bit smug that he found you at least kinda attractive, or that’s at least what you thought he was trying to say. You were able to get it up for him and please him thoroughly with your mouth, so it seemed fair to assume so. Still, why the fuck did you care what he thought of you? You really… really hated how cold and impassive he was with you.

“Fuck you, Dabi.” You growled out. With your hands settling on either side of his head, gripping the back of his chair while you placed one knee on it and then the other, finally straddling him and feeling the tip of his erection brushed against your lips.

“Haha, most gladly. But this is not gonna go the way you want.” Mocking you with a derisive smirk, his hands grabbing onto your waist and lifting you off the chair as he stood and kicked the damn thing away from him. With your feet now dangling off the floor, he grinned widely, his face was the true representation of malice and chaos. “I’ll give you exactly what you asked for.” He breathed raspily, the threatening edge to his voice made you want to squirm in his hold yet you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing you weak for him. You already felt the wetness of your slick pool at your core, drenching your lips and drip down your inner thighs, a sensation that you were so familiar with when you spent so many nights just edging yourself with wet daydreams, initially refusing to give in to your lust for the despicable man. One moment, you were facing and the next, he flipped you onto your stomach over the desk, basically slamming your body onto the wooden surface, spreading your legs apart while you scrambled to plant your feet on the floor, reaching for the edge of the desk and gripping it with all your might. You were right in doing so because the second you were parallel to the floor, Dabi lined his cock at your entrance and thrust violently inside of you, impaling you as he stretched your tight walls with no prelude whatsoever. The mixture of pleasure of being filled so deliciously made you cry out but didn’t keep you from wincing, your breath coming out in gasp at the sore sensation in your pussy, having been jabbed into so abruptly. “Still too early to whine, puppy. We’re just getting started.” He chuckled mockingly, his voice still as monotonous and raspy as it had always been, as if he wasn’t so strenuously splitting you with his cock. With his hands at your hips, his bruising grip held you tightly in place as he rocked his hips against you, the wet sounds of your sopping pussy milking him as his balls slapped against you, electrifying tremors racking through your legs with the intensity of his assault. You didn’t mind the manhandling, it was hot and like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. Holy fucking shit… you didn’t know that Jacob’s Ladder would feel this good, adding another layer of stimulation that had your eyes roll back. You had never been fucked like this before and the sounds that came from your lips were a true testament to that. You were never really a loud one in bed but Dabi was making you moan loudly, your tight core sucking him in every time he pulled your hips to him, slamming into you and sheathing himself fully inside of you, the tip of his cock grazing your sweet spot only for a split second before he pulled back, removing himself completely out of you just to hear you keen loudly for him, begging for his cock, especially when you felt the cool metal dragged out of your walls. “Hah… fuck fuck… fuck me harder, damn it!” You screamed through heaving gasps, your voice muffled as you spoke against the hard surface beneath you, holding on to it with your dear life as it began rocking under you every time he pummelled you. The strength he put into each thrust was more than enough to have your legs quaking, your sense of equilibrium teetering on the edge, just like your sanity was. He felt way too fucking good and you wanted more. “Aren’t you a greedy little bitch, huh?” He drawled, unable to keep himself from laughing out loud. You were really proving yourself to be such a good puppy for him and he was definitely starting to get more and more into this. “Milking my cock like this and you still want more?” His unrelenting rhythm in which he was fucking you slowed after every few harsh thrusts, allowing your pussy to swallow him whole, your inner walls just tightening around him, the wet contractions accompanied by your annoyingly sweet whines intoxicating him even more that the full-bodied wine he emptied. He always wanted to have such a good pet like you, with a pussy as ready and welcoming as yours yet strong enough to handle him just as he was. “You just really want me to wreck you, puppy. How long have you been fantasizing about me fucking you like this?” He asked, his raspy timbre wavering slightly as his breath quickened, pleasure making his walls slowly crumbled but what really mattered still remained. He was the one in control. “Answer me, bitch.” He didn’t have to sugarcoat things for you, take it easy on you or treat you like you were fragile. Reaching forward, he laced his fingers into your locks, latching on your hair and pulling your head back, forcing you off the desk to look into his cruel turquoise orbs. He really wished he had a collar wrapped around your pretty little neck and a chain that he could just pull on. For now, your hair would make do.

“Yesssss… fuck mee, yesss. I hate you so much for this, Dabi.” You mewled out, the knot in your stomach becoming excruciatingly tighter, the eminent pulsing of your ravaged core assuring that your release was near. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The feeling of your hair being tugged on your scalp had your eyes burning, tears forming in the corner of your eyes but it wasn’t only from the stinging sensation that was borderline abusive. And you loved it. “Hate me all you want.. I know you’ve been fucking yourself to the thought of me.” Dabi droned, a teasing lilt to his tone that set you aflame and your blood boiling. What he said was unfortunately true and who were you to deny it. Nodding in response to him or to your own thoughts, you weren’t entirely sure. All you knew was that you absolutely loved how he was using you like the pet that you were. His fuck toy.

“Don’t try to be proud. I can feel your pussy clamping my cock harder now.” Driving himself into you, his cock pushed even deeper inside of you when you arched your back, pushing your ass up and getting him to penetrate you even more. “You like it rough, don’t ya?” For the first time since he started fucking you, a deep groan ripped from his throat, exhaling through gritted teeth as the pleasure of being enveloped by your warmth finally started creeping on to him, managing to break through the stronghold that was his emotionless demeanor. He didn’t expect you to feel so damn good and he just needed so much more of you, feeling himself get closer to his orgasm as his cock began to twitch inside you, your pussy squeezing him even tighter with you being right over the edge of falling apart. Just a few more thrusts and he was gone. Pulling even harder on your hair, you raised yourself onto your elbows, crying out as Dabi was now repeatedly hitting you exactly where you needed him to, the one hand he had on your hips thankfully keeping you in place while he pumped himself into you, the pace of his thrusts faltering as your release came crashing down on you. Your choked moans threw him off, the meek sounds tumbling from your lips had him wondering why the fuck it took him so damn long to fuck you. Letting go of your hair, Dabi smacked his hands down on either side of you, rolling his hips to dive in to the hilt, spilling himself inside you, filling you up with his cum while your entire body trembled from the force of your climax, the ripples of pleasure still coursing through you as you continued to milk him dry. Dabi felt so damn disoriented and he wasn’t sure whether it was because of the fucking wine or the nutting he just had. He hadn’t come that much in such a long time and he really really wanted to just flop over you and cool down. Maybe go for another round. But he didn’t need a damn clingy puppy. Just a good obedient bitch he could fuck. Slipping out of you, he looked down at the mess that he made out of you, licking his lips as he spread your cheeks apart, watching his cum ooze out of you and drip to the floor. Your inner thighs were glistening with your own slick and fuck, didn’t you have a pretty pussy? It looked good and felt good too. Maybe next time, he’d have a taste of it too. If he felt like it. He didn’t have the chance to look at you before but examining you now and after fucking you, you were much better than he thought you would be. Pulling his pants back on, he zipped his pants and began scuffing away, throwing a bored glance back at you before walking out the door. “You were a decent fuck so I wouldn’t mind doing this again.” And right before he closed the door behind him, he added. “Clean up before you leave. Don’t need Kurogiri up my ass.” Not that he was going to leave him be anyways. Click. Now that he was gone and you were all alone. You finally got some time to let what happened just sink in. You were not ashamed and paid absolutely mind at the throbbing ache between your legs, the tingling sensation of numbness coursing through your lower body, thanks to the thorough pounding you had just received. The only thought that went through your mind, the subtle rise of giddiness mixing with utter satisfaction as you reminded yourself that you just had gotten the best fuck of your life. What a masochist you were. It was certainly a day full of discoveries. Now that you had a taste of this. You knew that you hadn’t gotten enough. And you would prowl for more. –♥– A/N: SORRY IF THIS was OOC, this is my first time writing anything of this sort. Tagging: @cleverlittlevixen​ here is some-dumpster-thing you would like and @hqissodelicate​ thank you for agreeing to beta this (I was too impatient to wait so I posted T_T)  Please feel free to leave some love in the comments or some feedback!💜 You can also check out my Masterlist ! 

[crimsonrae]

Cigarettes & Morning Breath

Summary: Syverson, finally home, has a rough night that leads into a productive morning.

Captain Syverson X OFC

Warning: Kitchen Sex, Breeding.

Rated NC-17.

A/N: I think that I’m just too pent up, but I hope you all enjoy! Continue with Fussin' with the Facts.

Tagged: @henry-cavill-obsessed​ @xxxkatxo​ @omgkatinka​ @clarreee​ @ginger-tiger @viking-raider​ @tinabean37​ @graceful-leah​ @worshipping-skarsgard​ @sweetdreamsofgelato​ @michellemybelles-world @werewolfonastolenbike @bichibibi @singeramg​ @a-wxnderless-mind​ @chamomilebottom @wolvesandhoundshowltogether​ @cavillhavoc​ ​ @promptandpros​ @multixwolf​ @oddsnendsfanfics​ @vikingsbifrost​ @marswritings​ @imneonpanda​ @tumblnewby @henryfanfics101​ @lebguardians​ @agniavateira

Cigarettes & Morning Breath

He woke with the blasts of gunfire still ringing in his ears. It took a moment for Sy to remember where he was, his hand had already been reaching for the knife that he kept under his pillow...used to keep under his pillow. It was only as his dark gaze registered the person lying next to him that he recalled he was home.

Home.

He was home.

He drew a shaky hand over his face, glad that he hadn’t woken her. Some nights he screamed and thrashed, only to find that he had left bruises when he came back to reality. She never blamed him, never got angry over it or even scared. Syverson wished she would. Wished she would scream at him or even leave. Anything was better than the quiet worry that shined at him as she soothed him.

How pathetic was he?

His gaze traced her peaceful face. Her mouth was open slightly, a thin trail of drool pooling onto the pillow. He smirked at the adorable picture she made, but resisted the urge to touch her. He had ruined too many nights of sleep as it was, but he knew he wouldn’t be visiting the Sandman’s realm again. Gingerly, he eased himself out of bed, shushing her as she stirred and silently crept to the kitchen.

He got the coffee brewing and reached into the cabinet above the fridge. He had hidden a pack of cigarettes up there. A habit he had been trying to break since he had gotten back. He was more successful than not on a good day. This wasn’t a good day. He needed one. He needed something to calm the nervous energy stinging his veins that was telling him to run, to defend.    

He popped the nicotine roll behind his ear as he waited for the coffee to finish percolating. He’d smoke it outside with a cup. He didn’t want her smelling it.

Not that he had a chance to smoke it as a few seconds later a hard flick to his ear had him jerking around, “Ow, fuck! Baby!”

Her nimble fingers had snatched his cigarette and tossed it in the trash as he rubbed at his assaulted appendage. She turned to look at him in groggy grumpiness and he had to bite back another smirk. His girl was not a morning person...at all.  

He wasn’t surprised when she fell against his chest, half asleep, “Didn’t mean to wake you, darlin’. Go back to bed.”  

She grunted and looped her arms around his waist and fuck if it didn’t feel good to have her pressed against him. He relaxed a little and played with the ends of her hair until he heard a quietly murmured, “Dreams again?”

“Hmm.” He grumbled, not interested in talking about his night terrors. His fingers itched for that cigarette.

The box was knocked from his hand before he even registered that he had reached for it. He raised an annoyed brow as he turned to see her glaring sternly at him, “Really?”

“No more smoking, Jay.” She growled at him, “Rather have your morning breath than that tobacco taste.”  

Sy snorted in disbelief, “Is this the morning breath before or after a Listerine rinse?”

He dodged her swat and reached around her to pour a cup of coffee. He was only allowed a sip before she took it and pressed her lips against his. She was insistent and he had never been one to refuse her.  

His strong fingers looped under the back of her curvy thighs and hefted her up as he took control of their kiss. She would damn well take what he was willing to give. He nibbled on the supple swell of her lip until her mouth parted to grant him entrance. Morning breath was smothered by strong coffee and a distinct lack of giving a fuck as they tasted each other.  

Sy channeled all his nervous energy into that kiss. And was rewarded with breathy whimpers and searching fingers that delved beneath the hem of his boxers. He slipped her onto the counter as her little touches turned bold and she stroked him with all the talent of a high-priced hooker.  

Fuck.  

Arousal burned his veins and he pulled back enough to see it flaming up in her as well.

Growling lowly, he smacked her hands away and yanked her underwear down her legs. He could practically smell her. He didn’t have the patience to be gentle in that moment. He pulled her legs apart and freed himself in one move before thrusting sharply into her. She yelped at the sharp intrusion, but he was lost to her scalding heat as her slick tight muscles engulfed him.

He could live inside her. 

She squirmed – needing friction when he didn’t move right away. He bit warningly at her neck, but gripped her hips hard and slammed her down onto his cock over and over. 

She clawed at his shoulders and whimpered at every pounding hump, but her body was made for him. She took everything and threw it back at him as she grinded and clenched around him.  

He hammered into her until he heard the squelching of her slickness slapping against his hips as they joined over and over. Then and only then did he search out her swollen little nub.

Her head flung back as he pinched and played with her little clit. It didn’t take much before she erupted so beautifully on him. Her hoarse scream a symphony for his ears. He groaned as her muscles clamped down on him so snuggly, he wasn’t sure he would be able to leave her. It was so damn good. 

He pumped into her a few more times before her little cavern became too much and he spilled his hot milky seed into her womb.

Ragged breathing filled the kitchen and he rested his head against hers as he managed to choke out, “Doesn’t count as morning breath. Had that bit of coffee.”

She huffed a faint laugh and nipped at his chin, “Shut up, you idiot.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He murmured, unwilling to move away from her just yet.  

She stayed like that pressed against him, on him until her fingers began to press urgently at his chest. He heard her whispered, “Fuck.”

Worry shot through his bliss as he eyed her, “What? What is it? Did I hurt you?”

She shook her head exasperated, “We didn’t use a condom and I only finished those antibiotics yesterday. I haven’t gone back on my birth control. Let me up.”

He stilled as the implications settled in his mind. His hand smoothed over her stomach with unconscious tenderness. A baby... they could have made a baby. He pictured her swollen with his child and felt a fierce flash of pride, but also contentment. He wanted that...

His sapphire eyes met her slightly panicked ones and smirked, “No.”

Her panic turned to disbelief, “No? You want a baby?”

“Yeah.” He said quietly, shyly, “Yeah, I do.”

She arched a brow at him, “You want me fat with mood swings, cravings, and cankles?”  

“What the fuck are cankles?” He asked thrown by that last item, but still unmoving.

She smiled charmed by his cluelessness, “Does it really matter?”

Sy shrugged and lightly snapped his hips against hers. She gasped and realized that he was still very much aroused. He continued his shallow thrusts, building her desire back up as he said, “You could wear a damn burlap bag and I still find you attractive, darlin’. But I’ll say right now, you’re not allowed to call yourself fat when you’re carrying my little one. I won’t put up with it and junior will feel his first tanning via his mama should I hear that word leave your lips.”  

“What about chunky?” She asked provokingly as she clenched around him.

Sy groaned, “Nope.”

“Heavy?”

“No.”

“Gross? Whalelike? Elephant?”

“No. No. And no.” He punctuated each no with a hard thrust, “Not allowed.”

She mewled before asking, “And after? We’ll have more sleeplessness nights. A screaming baby and diapers to change.”

Sy grinned at the thought, but couldn’t say he minded any of those things. He slipped his hand under the hem of her shirt, “I think we’ll survive.”

“I think so too.” She whispered and he felt something relax inside him. He knew that was her acquiescence to his desire.

He pressed a bruising kiss to her lips, “Then stop your yapping, woman. I have work to do.”

She snorted with laughter as he picked her up and carried her back to their bedroom. The coffee left on, forgotten.

[commander-diomika]

(Click to Read From the Beginning) Part 6 - Pairing: Zolf Smith/Oscar Wilde Word Count: 4700 Additional Tags: Slow Burn, 18-Month Time Gap (Rusty Quill Gaming), Opposites Attract, Trans Male Character, Forced Outing, Pining, Additional Warnings In Author's Note

Summary: New intel from Curie brings new rules about the quarantine process. This puts Zolf and Wilde in an awkward position. A/N - The forced outing depicted in this chapter isn’t through any malicious intent, but rather circumstances outside character control. There are no transphobic sentiments portrayed in this series, internalised or direct, but some of Wilde’s caution around disclosing indicates that this is a world where transphobia exists. These things could make for an uncomfortable experience for some readers.

The few times that Zolf went out on missions alone, usually on fruitless attempts to scout the Shoin Institute, it had been Barnes that welcomed him back and locked him in. Zolf didn’t mind isolation stretches, but he didn’t love that Wilde kept himself absent for the entire duration. He understood why, but there was something unsettling about coming home, and yet having to wait for what he felt like was the proper homecoming of being reunited with Wilde. But he coped with it just fine.

When the invitation from Curie came for a meeting, and specified that only one person was welcome, Zolf fought hard for it to be him.

“You’ve never even met Curie.” Wilde pointed out, voice level despite the heat in Zolf’s tone. “It makes far more sense for me to go, and someone needs to stay here.”

“At least take Barnes with you,” Zolf countered, knowing he was being ridiculous but unable to help it. He’d known that this time was coming but that didn’t make it come any easier. “He don’t have to come with you to meet her, but he can keep you safe.”

Wilde’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t need a bodyguard.”

Zolf crossed his arms, stymied. It wasn’t that he was overprotective. But he couldn’t squash the memory of Wilde’s face, slippery with blood beneath frantic fingers, or the haunted look in Wilde’s eyes when he emerged from isolation.

“I won’t even be gone long, Zolf. Curie is going to meet me in Hiroshima.”

Zolf opened his mouth to argue further, and was stopped by Wilde closing his eyes, looking genuinely tired for a moment. Normally Wilde relished a bit of verbal sparring and the two of them fought as easily as they breathed. But something about the way he sighed gave Zolf pause.

When Wilde next spoke, his voice was soft, a rare pleading in his tone. “I know, Zolf. I know you don’t like it. I don’t like it, but I have been looking at these same four walls for months. I am sick of not being a productive member of this team.”

“WHAT!” Zolf exploded. “You are the most productive member! Me n’ Barnes n’ Carter would be nothin’ without-”

“You know what I mean!” Wilde said, frustrated. Zolf hardly ever saw him like this. Anger was an emotion that Wilde kept locked away, just like his fear. “I’m sick of people treating me like I’m some sort of china doll, just because I can’t cast anymore!”

Zolf spluttered. “You’re not- we don’- nobody said-”

Wilde raised his hand. “I appreciate your concern, Zolf, I really do. But I’m going on this mission. And I am asking you-” Wilde drew a deep breath in through his nose “-to trust me.”

Well. That had been played like a trump card. Zolf felt something in him release, the angry churn of his stomach dissipating. If there was any truth left in the world at this point, it was that Zolf trusted Wilde.

He nodded.

---

As was protocol, on the evening he returned, Zolf, Barnes and Carter made themselves scarce until Wilde was safely in the anti-magic chamber, not detouring to any other rooms of the inn. They had arrangements for how to handle if a returning party member didn’t head straight for what they’d all started calling “the box,” but thankfully it was yet to come up. Zolf headed in after, with the keys to the cell, fresh clothes, and a bowl of prawn gyoza in hand.

“How’s Hiroshima?” Zolf asked, locking up and passing through the food.

Wilde didn’t respond, just levelled Zolf with a flat glare.

Zolf shrugged. “You can talk to me, an’ if at the end of the week you’re compromised, I’ll just assume that anythin’ you said was false intel, yeah? Until then,” Zolf pulled up the chair that sat outside and cell and settled it. “There’s no harm in it going this way,” he swept his hand from Wilde’s direction toward himself. “I just won’t tell you anything you don’t already know.” He, quite simply, was not going to take no for an answer. He wasn’t leaving Wilde alone with his thoughts for a week.

Wilde managed to look disapproving for a moment more, then a little smirk slipped through the veneer. “I find it difficult to believe you know anything I don’t, Smith.”

“Oh, sod off.”

“I can’t help it if I just happen to be the brains of the operation.” Wilde gave a small, defeated chuckle, and sat on the cot. He started undoing the anti-magic cuffs and massaging his ankles. Sometimes when there was no one using the box, Wilde would come sleep down here just for a chance to take them off for a little while.

“Hiroshima is well enough, but Curie says Cairo is a mess. The sandstorms have been giving it absolute hell. Anyone who doesn’t still need to be there isn’t, though it’s still seeing a lot of refugee traffic.” He picked up the food Zolf had passed through.

“From Europe?”

Wilde nodded between popping gyoza into his mouth. “These are very good, you know.”

Zolf waved a hand. “Hiromi’s been giving me lessons. She’s much nicer about it than her husband.”

Wilde updated Zolf on Curie’s operation. When he mentioned that she had been gifted the old Tahan estate, Zolf’s gut squeezed. It had been… almost over a year since he’d seen Hamid, and months since they’d last heard from him and the others. It was almost impossible to think that they were still alive, but without bodies or news, there was no way forward. Both men were left lingering in ambivalence, hope laid thick and heavy over a grief that couldn’t surface.

Wilde finished his food and frowned. He spoke more hesitantly than before. “There is one more thing I should tell you. We need to update some of the protocols.”

“Yeh? Howso?”

“The blue vein rumours? About the infected? Confirmed. More importantly, Curie says in every instance of a double agent, the blue veins have appeared on the body first, not the face or hands.” Wilde was overexplaining in a way that was unlike him. “In addition to the quarantine, being on the lookout for behavioural changes, Curie also recommended we do,” Wilde hesitated, again in a most un-Wilde-like fashion, “…visual inspections of those in quarantine. Thorough ones.” He fluttered nervous hands up and down his torso to illustrate.

As Zolf slowly turned over the implications, Wilde turned to rummage through his bag and withdraw papers. He gestured for Zolf to come take them through the slot.

“Reports, signed and sealed, detailing it all.”

Zolf took them, still absorbing what Wilde had said. He didn’t look through the bars. If he had, he would have seen something cautious and watchful in Wilde’s eyes.

The silence stretched on too long between them.

“Anyway, if you don’t mind, I am going to get some sleep. The boat from here to the mainland isn’t exactly a luxury cruiser, and I am exhausted.” Wilde flumped down onto the cot to punctuate the point.

“I… yeh. I’ll go have a look through these reports.” As Zolf walked away from the box, he paused in the door. “I’m glad you’re back,” he said. I’m glad you’re safe, he didn’t add.

“Of course you are,” Wilde replied without missing a beat. “This place must be dreadfully dull without me to liven it up for you.”

Zolf rolled his eyes and headed upstairs.

Having read through Curie’s reports, the next day Zolf went back to Wilde’s cell with his heart in his mouth.

Naked inspections. It’s just one thing after another in this brave new fucking world, isn’t it, he thought, agitated.

The whole situation was ridiculous. What was he so worried about? After everything they’d been through there was a certain trust, an ease between them now. What was a bit of nudity in the face of all that?

He was only feeling nervy about it because he was sure that Wilde was going to be a dick about it, in his usual style. Getting under Zolf’s skin hadn’t stopped being a hobby of Wilde’s, and this whole situation set the stage for his insufferable needling.

Wilde stood quickly as Zolf entered. He’d changed out of the clothes he’d travelled to Hiroshima in, and was now wearing long dark pants and his favourite yukata, the one with green and pink floral pattern.

“I read through all the reports,” Zolf began.

“We might as well get this over with,” Wilde said at the same time, and then laughed a little manically.

Zolf took his seat, waited for Wilde to quiet, then continued. “Curie also recommended we start askin’ people to tell us stories of things that only the other would know. Code words aren’t enough because it’s more about how you do the retellin’ than it is about the information.” Wilde’s face relaxed at the notion of delaying what came next.

“I’ll get you to tell me about… tell me how you remember our first meetin’, then.” Zolf said. Since all the other people who were there are either dead or presumed dead, he didn’t want to add.

Wilde launched into an explanation of flaming notepads, blood noses, slipping into his storyteller shoes with relief. It was nice to listen to him perform, even if thinking about Hamid and Sasha was depressing.

“And,” Wilde wound up, “I just happened to linger by the door and overhear you mention something about my bum, of all things. Now, if you’ll do me the favour of telling what that was, and we can all move forward assured of each other’s memory, though probably not their integrity.”

Oh, curses. He hadn’t thought Wilde had still been around for those comments. He crossed his arms and frowned loudly.

“Come now Zolf, you’ve already said it, you can’t take it back now.” Exactly as Zolf had suspected, Wilde seemed to be delighting in causing Zolf discomfort once again, whilst he slipped back into his old, familiar smarm. Wilde wrapped his hands around the bars of the cell and bounced slightly on his toes.

“I said,” Zolf pinched the bridge of his nose. “I said it was very nice.” And he stood by it, but Wilde didn’t need to know that.

Wilde laughed, free and throaty, running his hand through his hair in a way that Zolf knew, if he had access to his magic, would be accompanied by a bawdy shimmer of sparkles. For a moment, things felt bright.

The energy snapped back. Wilde wasn’t performing for a party, he wasn’t needling Zolf for a laugh, he was locked up in a cell waiting to find out if he had an infection that would turn him into something unrecognizable and dangerous… Wilde dropped his hands from the adamantine, and the two of them fell silent.

“I can go get Barnes, if you’d prefer,” Zolf said with a useless gesture. Wilde was already shaking his head.

“What’s a bit of nudity between… friends.” Wilde asked, with a quizzical tilt of his head. His eyes were asking does friends really cover it anymore? Zolf didn’t have an answer.

Zolf didn’t know how to get this whole awkward scenario started, so he just waited, his mouth dry. There was something so grim in Wilde’s face, and Zolf didn’t understand. His obvious discomfort with the notion of watching Wilde undress should’ve delighted the man. It should have been ammunition.

As Wilde started on the ties of his yukata, for the briefest of moments, Zolf’s discomfort was replaced by a blistering anger at the absurdity of it all. All those moments he had wanted to be closer to Wilde, to touch his bare skin or to hold him… but he hadn’t asked for this. Between the two of them hung a nascent possibility. A possibility that Zolf was only just starting to acknowledge, and that deserved a chance to blossom.

That instead it should be forced to happen like this, through cell bars, was perversely unfair. To him. To Wilde. To the pair of them and all the ways that this could have been different.

Wilde paused, as if seeing the flash of anger in Zolf’s eyes. He spoke quietly, almost to himself. “Thinking about… hmph. The truth is rarely pure and never simple.” With that non sequitur, he disrobed, turning his body to drape the cloth over the cot.

As he turned back, Zolf was struck by a sudden realisation; he’d never seen Wilde with his shirt off. Never swum together, never seen him coming back from bathing with a towel around his waist. Even in the heat, Wilde always wore his shirt buttoned, his yukata firmly tied. Zolf swore he could see Wilde’s chest in his mind’s eye. It just made sense. Wilde had certainly seen Zolf’s chest; they’d been living in each other’s pockets for almost a year now and Zolf didn’t think much of it.

But no, because if he’d seen Wilde without the shirt, he would know that Wilde had a smattering of dark chest hair. And more scars on his torso than seemed right. The wounds from Douglas had torn two messy gashes near the ribs, and those scars were present as expected. But there were two more - slightly crescent shaped, uniform and well-healed - swooping across his chest just beneath flat nipples.

Surgical scars.

The air was knocked out of Zolf’s lungs. His body had grasped answers before his mind did. His thoughts felt sluggish, crawling, gasping to catch up, and when they did it was with the lurching realisation of just how unfair it was that they had been brought here, to this cell, to this grotesque scenario, against their will.

Wilde undid the drawstring of his pants and stepped out of them. Dark hair ran in a soft line from his navel down, fanning out to the triangle that dipped between his legs. His face was carefully blank, as he lifted his hands, palms up, in a sardonic “ta-dah” gesture.

Zolf was frozen inside his mind, as Wilde turned slowly on the spot.

He did have a fantastic arse, the perfect balance of muscular and plush, and once again Zolf was furious that any hint of eros in this had been utterly perverted.

Wilde turned back to face Zolf and raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Zolf nodded again, his mouth dry. Wilde dressed, not rushed but efficient.

They sat in silence for a time.

“You never told me,” was all Zolf could think of to say.

“Fantastically witty and incisive commentary from one Zolf Smith, yet again,” Wilde said, voice like acrid smoke. Nothing made Wilde bite like losing the upper hand.

“I’m- I’m sorry. I jus’, I’ll go-” Zolf tried to walk and turn at the same time and knocked into the stool, clanging it down to the floor. He righted it with hands that shook and headed for the stairs.

“Zolf!” Wilde called after him. “You don’t have to leave.”

Well. That was as close to begging as Wilde ever got.

Zolf returned to his stool, and re-joined the silence. Wilde sat on the cot, watching the close wall of the cell with a face that Zolf recognised; it was one of Wilde’s favourite expressions, deliberately mild, open, waiting. It gave away nothing and invited everything. For Wilde, it was safety.

Other people, people who didn’t know Wilde as well, might take that as an invitation to speak. Zolf wasn’t other people. He thought about all the times he’d stumbled through something awkward, with good intentions but clumsy words. He had no idea how to proceed, other than it was probably wise to wait, and let Wilde find words first.

“Don’t feel bad about me not telling you.” Wilde said eventually. “It usually doesn’t come up, unless I’m sleeping with someone. Even then you’d be impressed at what can be achieved with creative use of props, dim lighting and a bit of magic.” He trailed his hand wistfully through the air, an impotent somatic component.

Zolf continued to wait, to leave the man space. Zolf wasn’t the one who’d been stripped, forced into a deeply personal disclosure without plan or intent.

“It’s not that I’m ashamed, you see. It's more… it feels like handing over a weapon, and I try to avoid that if I can. And well, I’m usually not in someone’s acquaintance long enough to feel bad about keeping it a secret.” There was an apology tucked between the words, and Zolf nodded even though Wilde wasn’t watching

He paused to run his thumb over the facial scarring, once, twice. “Bosie knew.”

Wilde let the silence stretch on long enough that Zolf felt like he had to speak or he would never stop thinking about skidding through Wilde’s blood on a cold stone floor. “You… you used to use your magic for it, righ’?”

Wilde barked out a harsh laugh. “Oh yes, for practically all of it! It was the reason I got so good at glamours! Back in Cairo I… I suspected that an anti-magic chamber or cuffs might halt the hexing, but I couldn’t, you see? I’d been doing it for so long. Everyone knew me as a man.” He shrugged, saying obviously with his shoulders. “I couldn’t go back.”

Zolf examined Wilde’s face. He was still carefully keeping his gaze on the cell wall. He still had that mild expression on his face, as though they discussed what to have for lunch, not one of the lowest points of his life. But he didn’t seem upset, so Zolf pressed on. “What happened?”

“Oh I…” he huffed a small laugh. “I got lucky. Turns out Grizzop already knew. I don’t think I reacted quite right when he punched me in the crotch.” Now something like genuine fondness crept into Wilde’s voice. “He suspected what might happen if I had to stop casting; he helped smooth things over. I was in no position to be fending for myself at that juncture, I had let the curse go on too long.” Wilde looked at his hands. “I will always be grateful to him.”

Wilde sounded like a man who knew, without a doubt, that the object of his gratitude was dead.

“Once it became clear the cuffs were going to become a permanent accessory, he set things up with the Cult of Aphrodite for me to have surgery and for them to supply the right potions. They have all the gear and know-how, of course. Not everyone in my position is a caster.”

Something else clicked in place for Zolf as he pondered the technicalities of non-magical surgery.

“Wait a minute. You were still recovering from that when we joined back up, weren’t you?”

Wilde’s brow crinkled as he considered timelines. “That’s right. Scarring needs to heal with almost no magical intervention, otherwise it’s back to square one. So it was… quite painful, to be quite honest. And compared to magical healing, the process drags on and on.”

Wilde smoothed a hand over his robe-clad chest. “I like it better this way now. No more binding my chest just in case, though I try to be careful about who sees the scars.” His voice was light, that faux-levelness starting to fade and he just, talked. Wilde was relieved, Zolf realised with a start. He wanted to tell Zolf about these things.

“It’s nice to just … be myself. Even at the end of day when I’m tired and can’t cast anymore.” And he finally looked at Zolf and smiled. Not a smirk or grin, just a completely open smile that welcomed Zolf into his joy instead of belittling or declaring victory with it. Even with the scar, sitting in a dim cell, he looked radiant.

As Zolf went to smile back, he felt his face wobble. This - Wilde smiling, confiding, being easy and honest with him - it was a better outcome than he could have hoped for. He felt the sudden bloom of Wilde’s smile in his chest, the warmth of the man’s trust.

But this was merely day one of seven, and it was still terrifyingly possible that the man who sat across from him was not Wilde at all. So Zolf’s smile twisted as it appeared on his face, and he didn’t reply, allowing them to lapse back into silence.

Day 2

“Wouldn’ it be- well not easier but less, I dunno- to just wait and do one inspection on the last day?” Zolf asked. He’d brought down breakfast and the paper, and they’d sat quietly as they ate; Wilde had finished eating and was starting on the motions of undressing.

“Zolf. My dear.” Wilde cocked his head in that patronising way that he did when he thought Zolf had said something legitimately dumb. “If I am reading your intentions correctly, your plan for the week is to eschew all your other jobs to waste away at my door-” Zolf opened his mouth to argue and Wilde simply raised his voice and pressed on “-not that I am complaining, but if you truly are going to while away the days with me, and then on the final day, you find out I have been infected the whole time and have to kill me, how, pray tell, is that going to make you feel?”

Zolf snapped his mouth shut.

“Wouldn’t you rather know as soon as it comes up?” Wilde pointed out, frustratingly reasonable.

Zolf simply wanted to throw the cell doors open because there didn’t seem any possibility that the man behind the bars was anything other than 100% pure, vexatious Oscar Wilde, but he stilled his twitching hand. Wilde’s question was to remain unanswered as Zolf simply gestured go on then and Wilde, with a grim, self-satisfied nod, started to strip.

Day 3

“No, don’tcha see, if Jennifer had gone to Antony in the garden, her mother would have known from the get-go-”

“But I simply don’t see how Alianne knowing would have improved things for Jennifer-”

“She was supportive, she could’ve helped smooth things over when Antony’s sister started her meddlin’, and they could have wrapped the whole thing up before supper!”

“Yes, but where is the fun in that, Zolf?”

Day 4

As Wilde dispassionately disrobed for a fourth time, Zolf realised there was now a familiarity to Wilde’s naked body, and that was jarring.

He wasn’t lanky, not really, but Zolf couldn’t help but think of most humans that way. The truth was he was solid enough in build, surprisingly muscular for a man who mostly rode a desk. His legs and arse especially were firm with it. He does a lot of walking about the village, I s’pose.

Zolf watched Wilde turn on the spot and he longed to trace the shape of Wilde’s shoulders, cup his ass, rub my damn nose in that soft lookin’ chest hair and…

Zolf ground his teeth against the wrongness of it all.

He thought of slipping his hands between Wilde’s legs, and though the shape of the fantasy had changed, the intensity had not.

It had been a long time since Zolf had felt a physical or sexual attraction like this, and the fact that it was at the most inconvenient time, and the most unlikely person, was enough to make him think he’d made a mistake breaking ties with Poseidon. Maybe if he hadn’t eschewed divine favour, he would have been protected from whatever trickster god had decided to throw this at him.

He kept his hands in his pockets so that Wilde wouldn’t see him clench his fists.

Maybe I should offer to strip too. At least that would put us on an equally horrible footing, Zolf mused.

Wilde dressed and turned back to look at Zolf with careful, watchful eyes. Wilde was in the business of reading even the most inscrutable enemies like a book, and at this point he had a thorough translation guide for Zolf. He knew it bothered the dwarf. The fact that Wilde hadn’t made a bunch of lewd comments was probably his idea of a kindness, but the absence of Wilde’s typical peacocking it somehow made it worse.

When he looked at him like that, it made Zolf feel like he was the one in the cell.

Zolf cleared his throat. “Got a new crossword book if you like?”

Day 5

“Pawn to E4.”

A chess board sat on a small table just outside the cell. Zolf moved the white pawn for Wilde then took his own move.

“Knight to G3.” Wilde said in a bored tone. He’d voted for bridge, but Zolf had talked him out of it. Too difficult to wrangle cards between the cell’s bars and mesh, he’d pointed out. Which was true, but what was also true was that Wilde was surprisingly bad at chess (it was much easier to cheat in cards).

Whilst Zolf did feel sympathy for Wilde, things weren’t so bad that Zolf wasn’t going to relish the opportunity to beat him at something for a change.

Day 6

Each day Wilde got closer to being comfortable with the inspections. Closer but not there. Half a lifetime of needing to be guarded about who saw your body created some strong foundational habits. That foundation wasn’t going to be eroded in seven days, regardless of how much you trusted the person who saw you.

But still, it could have been worse. Zolf shuddered to think what would have happened if this situation had been thrust on them a year ago. Their friendship, tenuous as it was, might not have been able to survive.

Dressing again, Wilde stretched the kinks out of neck. “I cannot wait to get out of here and have a proper bath and a nice long walk.”

“Nearly there.” Zolf said absently. He’d stopped needing to worry every second moment that Wilde was infected. Even though they’d been dealing with it all with distractions, with laughter, with pretending like it wasn’t happening, Zolf felt the sudden urge to be honest.

“I’m sorry that… that it happened like this. That you didn’t get a choice in tellin’ me about...” Your past? Your journey? Your truth? “…Everythin’.”

Wilde made a face of surprise, but instead of deflecting the offer of an honest conversation, he accepted. “Me too. I intended to, but as I said. I’m rarely… close enough with someone that I feel they deserve it. I wish-” Wilde paused, considering his next words, and what other weapons he might be handing over, deeply. “I wish that the circumstances had been different.”

Zolf could just ask what he meant. He could. It was practically an invitation for him to press, to force Wilde to clarify exactly under what circumstance he’d envisioned sharing secrets about his body with Zolf… but he didn’t.

Inside Zolf, uneasy guilt gnawed at him. The circumstances they had were only these ones. Wilde was vulnerable, caged, and thoroughly without a choice; but Zolf knew there were moments he’d chosen to ignore those elements. He knew, deep in his guilty core, he had been inspecting far more than he had the right. It didn’t feel honourable to press Wilde any further after that.

“Yeah.” Zolf stood. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Wilde. Last day ‘n all.”

Day 7

“It would have been too much to hope that the bloody sun would come out for this, wouldn’t it,” Wilde grumbled.

Freshly released, he was pondering umbrella selection in the entry hall.

“I’m guessing you don’t want me to come with,” Zolf ventured. Wilde had come out of his quarantine cheerful enough, but there was something understandably off about him; something distant and a little contemplative. Zolf had been half-expecting, or even hoping for, one of Wilde’s warm shoulder-touches. But he had kept his hands firmly to himself.

Wilde looked up, mouth twisted wryly. “I think I’ll be fine.” He hesitated, as he always did before saying something sincere. “I do appreciate what you’ve done for me this week, Zolf, but I could use a little space.”

Zolf nodded. He’d expected as much.

Inside him, the guilt twisted a little, the word violator rising in his mind. No. Neither of them had chosen anything about this situation. If anything, their connection felt even stronger for having been through the wringer, yet again. Whatever liberties Zolf accused himself of taking, it wasn’t enough to dent that.

We’re alright. Zolf thought.

We’ll be alright. I think we both could use a little time, is all.

Wilde selected the green umbrella, gave Zolf a tentative smile, and headed out into the rain.

[etlunainmorte]

Vergil X Reader: True Feelings

~ Hello, everyone! This is my present to Exy ( @impendingexodus ). A little Vergil X Reader to warm up your holidays!❤❤❤😍😍😍

I hope you like this! And Merry Christmas! ❤❤❤😍😍😍

***

He knew this feeling all too well. After all, he did experience something like this a long, long time ago.

However, this time around, Vergil felt it was even more difficult than ever before.

It was one of those days when he just couldn't control his temper. The simplest things would easily annoy him, and the deadliest words would just spill out of his mouth uncontrollably, regardless of who was present.

Maybe it's just old age or frustration getting the better of him, or maybe it's his brother's incompetence in many things that pulls the two of them down as Devil Hunters but, whatever the case, he just couldn't explain why he explodes like that at times. Yes, that's the word. He just explodes.

Sadly, the last time he did that was when (Y/N) was around.

Actually, the girl didn't do anything wrong. She didn't step out of the line. However, the way his brother lingered to her, the way he touched her, the way he looked at her, it just,... sets him off. Normally, Vergil could withstand his brother's suspicious behavior towards (Y/N) but, this time, he felt,... different.

After all, he knew this feeling all too well. He experienced something like this a long, long time ago.

However, this time around, Vergil felt it was even more difficult than ever before.

Needless to say, the moment Vergil let out those poisonous words that threatened to burn his throat like acid, he felt as if someone just poured hot water right on top of his head. He felt so hot all over, he could feel his anger coursing through each and every part of his body beginning from his veins to the tips of his fingers and toes. He felt so close to exploding, to triggering, and yet, the moment he saw the tears dangerously coming out of her (E/C) - colored eyes, he instantly felt his heart dropping to the darkest pit of his stomach. The moment she ran away, scared of what he has become right before her and Dante, Vergil felt this deathly coldness seeping through those same veins that brought the heat of wrath all over his body. And when she ran away from him in fear like that, he felt a precious part of his being leaving him forever.

Precious,...

Was (Y/N) that precious to him? He didn't know.

All he knew was whenever she's with him, he feels very calm. When she's around, he feels this warm sensation glowing deep within his core. All those negative thoughts that constantly plague his head, of darkness, and evil, and danger, would instantly leave his body, to be filled with warmth, and something very soft and tender that he couldn't quite explain. In a very short time, (Y/N) has become a very bright beacon for Vergil. The beacon that calms his mind, and gives him a feeling of reassurance that everything would be fine despite the chaotic state of his being.

In all honesty, Vergil wanted to surprise her. He wanted to give her a little something for Christmas. After all, she has done so much for him during the past few months, even when he was still not the man he is now. After acquiring those memories from V, he realized how much she has cared for him. How she took care of him when he's wounded. How she fed him when he's starving and how she clothed him when he felt cold. How she stayed with him despite all difficulties and how she remained by his side during all those trials. And even when she first met the real Vergil, she did her best to understand the situation. Despite her confusion, she did her best to learn about his kin and the truth, and darkness, behind his family name.

And even when she found out the things he has done in the past, she chose to remain by his side. She chose to believe in him.

She chose to always be there for him.

However, Vergil knew he's becoming such a burden towards her.

More so, he's becoming more and more volatile towards her when Dante's around.

Dropping the Yamato on the ground next to his feet, he collapsed and went down on his knees, his chest hurting as the image of her crying popped into his head.

Just earlier after his outburst, Dante tried to reason with him. His brother tried to calm him. As a matter of fact, Dante received a few slashes from him before his senses finally resurfaced. Through his hyper sensitive eyes, he noticed his brother helpless on the ground, refusing to fight, and still trying to reason with him.

And through his hazy mind, he saw her anguished face once again. Begging him to stop. Begging him to listen to her.

Right then and there, Vergil morphed back to his human form, drew the Yamato, and made a portal to this isolated place where no one dared to follow him.

It was the place where he separated his human self from his demonic self all those months ago.

And as he knelt there, regretting all the actions he has done, he thought of nothing but (Y/N).

Of how much he wanted to see her smiling again. Of how much he wanted to spend the rest of the day with her. Of how much he wanted to feel her frail body against him. Of how much he wanted to feel protected and loved.

Protected and loved,... by her.

But he has messed up. His jealousy,... has driven her away,...

Yes, jealousy, that's the word.

Jealousy has driven Vergil Sparda mad.

How would he get her back? How could he explain everything to her? Would she even believe him? Would she even listen to him?

"Vergil?"

There. Just now, he heard her soft and tender voice. Oh, how he missed that sweet, sweet voice of hers.

"Vergil, are you alright?"

And even his mind was playing tricks on him. How could she know where he was? Unless,...

The man scrambled to his feet, turned around, and saw none other than her, (Y/N) herself, in the flesh.

But,... how?

She gave him a little smile as she made small steps towards him, probably still wary of him and how he would possibly react.

This made Vergil wince. Has he really fallen low enough to make her frightened of him like that?

"I don't understand." Vergil began as he watched her get closer and closer towards him. "You didn't have to follow me here,... "

Her nose bridge wrinkled ever so slightly at what he just said.

Oh, how adorable she looked doing that,...

"But, I'm here for you." She said as she looked up at him, her eyes ever so gentle and her voice ever so soft.

"I don't even deserve you." Vergil answered. "Do I,... even deserve you?"

(Y/N) sighed as she shook her head. Fishing something from her pocket, she said, "I thought I would wait until midnight to give you this but," From her pocket, she produced a small gift he reckoned she wrapped herself and gingerly handed it to him. Placing her hands behind her back, she nodded at the little present in his hands. And with that adorable little smile of hers, she went on, " ... I guess there's no better time than tonight, right?"

A series of words came out as mere mumbles from Vergil's mouth as he looked at the gift then at her, then back at the gift once more, and this made her chuckle.

"Go on! Open it." She invited.

With a deep breath, Vergil placed his fingers on the little bow and carefully pulled it loose, letting the soft fabric wrapper fall flat on his palm.

What he saw confused him at first. It was nothing more than a small bundle of handmade bookmarks of all shapes and sizes.

How - ?

Then, he finally remembered. He finally remembered, and it actually made his eyes sting.

"Do you remember this?" (Y/N) began as she pointed at one particular bookmark that looked like a bird. "We both made this one to look like Griffon. I remember he was so annoyed by this, he actually tried to rip it apart!"

"(Y/N), I,... " You,… you kept these bookmarks,… all this time?

"Oh! And this one." She went on, now pointing at a gun shaped bookmark made from colorful pages of old magazines. "I remember there was a storm. We couldn't go out so we borrowed some of Nico's old Artisan magazines, and we were inspired to make our very own weapon. But, we're not Artisans, so, instead, we made this to pass the time! Do you remember, Vergil?"

"I - "

"And this one." She said, pointing at a Christmas tree shaped bookmark. "Do you remember this?"

Vergil closed his eyes, still trying to contain the emotions that were flooding out. He nodded, simply because he couldn't trust his voice.

"It was my idea." Vergil said, his voice hoarse and low. "I told you I'd buy as much books as I can with my own earnings as a Devil Hunter and spend the holidays reading them with you."

Vergil waited for her answer, and a few moments later, a smile creeped up on the corner of her lips. "Well, the books are ready, if you still want to come home with me."

"W - what do you mean? What is - ?"

"Umm, I mean, there's comedy, and tragedy, romance, poetry, of course, and those comics you saw at the local book shop once. The Far Side series. I got all your requests."

"I had no idea back then if I would live long enough to experience this day with you." Vergil added, his emotions betraying him.

"Hmm? You're here with me, right now."

"I knew I was at death's door, and I didn't want you to worry."

"But, you came back."

"And I was a terrible, terrible man." Vergil went on, trying to ignore the pain in his chest. The pain of bottling up all of his emotions.

The girl tilted her head to the side. "Why would you say that?"

"I,... hurt you! Despite everything you did for me, I still made you cry. I don't,... deserve someone as good as you!" Finally letting the painful truth go, Vergil sighed and gave her a pleading look. "I want you to have a happy life together with the man you love. I don't ever want you to experience pain, or suffering, or sadness. I want the best for you.

"(Y/N),... it's the best I could do for you for everything you've done for a,... shameful,... and tainted man,... such as myself."

There. The words were out, and honestly, Vergil felt so stupid for saying those.

And (Y/N)?

Well, the girl seemed to agree with him on that!

"W - what's so funny?" Vergil mumbled in embarrassment as he watched the girl control her mirth. "D - do I have s - something on my face?"

"Oh, you are a terrible, terrible liar, Vergil!" She spoke through her laughter.

Ah, it seems I have lost to her yet again,... "And what do you want me to say?! (Y/N), be with Dante because you deserve each other? Go out, spread the happy news, and,... multiply?!"

"Who told you I like Dante?!" The girl went on as if she's mocking Vergil's words.

Ah, so much for letting out those crushing and painful feelings,...

"Well, do you?!"

"Oh, dear, of course, I do! But, only as a friend." The girl informed him, then rolled her eyes. "And who said anything about," she stepped closer, dangerously closer, towards him and pressed an accusing finger against his forehead. Which looked very cute, considering the gap in their heights. " ... MULTIPLYING WITH YOUR BROTHER?!"

"Y - you mean, y - you're not in love with Dante?" And once again, Vergil felt he was back in middle - school, confessing to his very first crush.

Once again, Vergil heard her laughter. And her loveable snort. Oh, how he missed the sound and the sight,...

Then, without warning, Vergil felt something very soft and sweet, the taste of cherries, and,... chocolate? Against his lips. Then, the flowery scent of her hair assaulted his nostrils. Her smooth arms went around his neck, and he slightly felt her weight when she clung to him. He closed his eyes, wrapped his muscular arms around her shapely waist, held her oh so close to his chest, and finally,... finally! Moved his lips against hers.

Heaven. It felt as if he has died and gone straight to Heaven. He, a sinful man who has committed grave mistakes in the past, was being showered with love and affection by the loveliest Angel he has ever met.

With the rhythm of their lips and the soft moans of the girl he loved, Vergil felt that a great blessing has just entered his life.

Yes, he may have lied to her about him wanting her to be happy with someone else. Yes, he told her that he didn't deserve someone as good as her. But, deep inside, he wanted to be hers, and hers alone. He wanted to hold her like this for the rest of his life. He wanted to do more than read those books with her. He wanted the two of them to make their own stories, together. And,... more.

Vergil opened his eyes and saw her pouty lips as he broke the kiss that seemed to go on forever in their heads.

"I,... have a little surprise for you, as well." He revealed, his voice sounding as satisfied as it can be.

"Really? What is it?"

The corner of Vergil's lips curled up in a mischievous smirk, and this sent delicious shivers down (Y/N)'s spine.

"Oh, my love, you can keep guessing until we get back home." Vergil teased as he carried (Y/N) like a Princess.

"My love, stop being a tease and at least, give me a hint." The girl teased back with a mischievous smile of her own.

My love.

Those,... were the sweetest words he has ever heard in his entire, miserable life.

"You want a hint!" Vergil exclaimed theatrically, planting a chaste kiss on her forehead. "Let's say it's something you'll be mesmerized with for the rest of the evening,... "

***

@dmcsecretsanta

***

[ninbayphua-moyan]

Moonlit Sparrow Through Parted Clouds

Thunderous grey clouds hung heavy in the sky as I made my way towards the lecture hall. My body ached with a bone-deep exhaustion and each leaden step I took felt heavier than the last. I stopped, wanting to turn back, but time and time again, my body refused to obey as my legs carried me towards my destination.

          Half an hour later, I found myself standing outside the empty lecture hall despite the countless hesitations along the way. Sighing, I sank to the floor and closed my eyes, too tired to remain upright. That’s what university does to you. It sucks out your soul, your passion, and your youth, leaving nothing behind but an empty husk of a human being.

           A familiar voice calling my name pricked my hazy, sleep deprived brain and I cracked open my heavy eyelids. My facial muscles moved like clockwork, automatically forming a smile to greet my friend.

           “You look like a corpse!” Chu Ying exclaimed worriedly at the sight of the heavy dark circles beneath my vacant eyes.

           “Haven’t been getting much sleep this week…” I replied with a nonchalant shrug as I quickly scrunched up my eyes until they turned into little crescents of laughter, “assignments due soon.”

           Seemingly convinced by my explanation, she gave me a look of sympathetic encouragement and left. The second no one was looking, I let the smile fall. Amazing what a simple smile could conceal. You could probably murder someone, smile, plead innocent and everyone would believe you. Sighing softly under my breath, I grabbed my bag and joined the gathering crowd of students as they trickled into the dimly lit lecture theatre.

           My laptop sat quietly on the desk, an empty word document laid open on its illuminated screen as the lecturer’s monotonous voiced droned on and on in the background. I should have been taking down notes but my mind was too preoccupied with my issues with the Undergraduate Office to focus on what the lecturer was saying.

           A rhythmic vibration drew my attention towards the phone sitting on my lap. Glancing at the pop-up notification, a wave of anxiety and hope surged through my body as I registered who the sender was – the Undergraduate‘s Office. Quickly, I pulled up the email and immediately felt my heart sinking after reading the first line.

          All seminar groups are full and we cannot move students.

          Lies.

          Another notification, this time, from my personal tutor.

          It’s only week 3, relax.

          Disappointment. Betrayal. Frustration. Anger. I clenched my trembling hands into fists as the tsunami of emotions threatened to explode and spill out of my shaking body. Half of me wanted to storm over to the Undergraduate’s office and let loose the unbridled rage coursing through my veins at the unfair treatment. The other half of me wanted to lash out at my tutor’s condescending advice. My body trembled at the barely, ever so barely contained anger.

          Sixteen thousand pounds. That would be eighty-four thousand two hundred and seventy-nine ringgit each year in school fees. Fees which didn’t even include the amount I needed to spend in order to buy the books required for the modules. Sixteen thousand pounds per year just to get an education, an education that I wasn’t even getting at this point and her advice for me was to relax? How could I when my parents worked their entire youth away, saving every cent just so they could send me, all the way to Britain to get a proper education! Did they even know what the stakes of sending me abroad to study was?!

          My father’s average yearly income is twenty-four thousand ringgits, barely twenty-eight percent of my yearly school fees. Was it that unreasonable to want to be in a class that will allow me to learn and improve after paying for that much money out of my parents’ own pocket?! Why would anyone in their right mind come half way across the globe, paying that ridiculous amount of money, and being so far away from family and home for years, just to fool around? If that had been my intention, I wouldn’t even have bothered going to university in the first place, let alone coming all the way to Cardiff!

          University will be fun they said. You’ll meet open-minded people passionate about learning they said. Hah! That’s the biggest misconception if there ever was one. First of all, the university doesn’t care about whether you actually learn anything so long as you're paying the fees. The majority of lecturers or seminar leaders will only do the most minimal amount of work required and by that, I mean three hundred words of prose only per weekly assignment. What kind of creative work could anyone produce under three hundred words? In prose! Some don’t even bother with critical commentary which is just as essential as the creative pieces. Not only does the lack of practice in writing critical commentaries and limited word count for the creative pieces inhibit students from developing any work of significance, it also underprepares students for the three-thousand-word portfolio due at the end of the semester.

          Secondly, British universities are also especially discriminatory towards outsiders or people of colour, often treating minorities and international students with hostility or disregard. I’ve experienced this discrimination first hand upon requesting a seminar change. Despite having emailed the Undergraduate Office at the same time with the exact same reasons, I was denied the change whilst my British classmate was immediately allowed to swap seminars. The office even went so far as to lie about the class being full even though I was told by the professor leading that very seminar that it wasn’t. So much for the integrity of the institution.

          At the end of the day, international students are nothing but cash cows to British universities.[1] Not only do they have to pay double of what British students pay in terms of fees, they also have to deal with the discriminations that come alongside being an outsider. I understood that in this day and age, education was a business, and that the university itself was, essentially, a business, but doesn’t actual passion for learning still count for something? Or was I wrong in believing in that as well? Oh, so naïve, so very naïve!

          Old memories started to surface amongst the turmoil of emotions. My father and his worn-out clothes, refusing each time to buy new ones for himself just to save a little more money. My mother mending them as best she could whilst we slept, never once complaining. Images of my father’s prematurely greying hair and bloodshot eyes as he worked his health away to provide for his children’s future. My mother’s back bent low, labouring away at some project or another in order to make ends meet. Yet, they never once showed us how tired or how tough things were. There was always enough food on the table and they always had a smile on their faces around us. Sometimes, I noticed that they would eat a lot less than usual but whenever I asked, they merely joked and said they were trying to lose weight. They could have enjoyed their youth, their honeymoon, but they decided to save it all, sacrificing their health and comfort just to ensure mine by sending me here.

          I remember the times where they would secretly check their wallets whenever I begged them to buy me a book. Oh, how those very books painted and fuelled my illusions of Britain’s perfection. If only I had known the reality of it all before applying to study here. But it’s too late for regrets now.

          A sharp stinging pricked the back of my eyes, tears threatening to fall as my body shook with suppressed, uncontrollable rage. Maybe if I was a little braver…maybe if I fought a little harder…maybe if I confronted them a bit more…maybe…maybe…maybe…

          Then as quickly as they appeared, the tsunami of emotions faded away, leaving behind an empty husk. My clenched fists loosen and fell limply at my sides as a quiet, bitter laugh escaped my lips. Nothing was going to change. No matter how hard I fought, the end results will remain the same so what’s the point of even trying in the first place?

          As the cold hard reality of the situation finally presented itself, I slumped against the chair, my empty laptop screen staring blankly back at me. Resignation dragged me deeper and deeper into the murky depths of my mind. I was drowning. No one knew and no one cared. But that’s fine. The ending remains the same regardless. Always the same…

          The sound of rustling papers and loud chatter momentarily draws me out of the murky waters. Realising that the lecture had ended, I gathered my things and shuffled towards the exit, my mind returning once more to the depths of the void. Outside, the rain was pouring. I plodded down the streets drenched to the bone as my legs moved mechanically towards my flat. A stifling numbness engulfed my mind as I trudged on in silence, the howling wind battering my shivering, rain-soaked body from all sides. Rounding the corner, I pulled out a key-card and entered the cramped grey flat. Out of sheer habit, I grabbed the letters from my letterbox and stuffed them into my coat pocket before heading upstairs.

           Entering the dingy room, I dropped my backpack on the bed and sank to the floor. Hugging my knees to my chest, I stared vacantly at the bleak wall. My phone rang insistently in my pocket but I didn’t answer, too tired to move. The crushing weight on my lungs forced out whatever little oxygen I managed to draw, making each breath a struggle. The clamouring voices in my mind grew louder and louder, growing in intensity yet forcefully contained, like built-up pressure without release on the brink of implosion.

You’re useless

          I’m…not…

You can’t even stand up for yourself or fight for what you believe is right

          Yes I can! And I’m trying! I’ve –

You’re a disappointment to your parents and your family

          I’m not! I swear! I –

You’ll never amount up to anything

          That’s not true! I –

You’re pathetic

          No –

Nothing but a Failure

          Stop saying –

Human garbage

          Please! Just –

Waste of space

           “SHUT UP!”

           Silence. Nothing but the sound of my ragged breathing in the darkness.

The world would be better off without you

          I don’t know how long I had stayed there on the floor but by the time I came around, my dripping wet clothes were nearly dry. The chaotic calamity within had finally died down and I was filled with an eerie calmness. A deafening silence blanketed the air, pierced only by the hypnotic rumbling of trains across tracks. Ah yes…the railway…my ticket to solving everything…just two blocks away…and it’ll all be over…permanently…

          Forcing my lethargic limbs to move, I wobbled onto my feet and stumbled towards the door. A tiny parcel fell out of my pocket and the handwriting on it made me paused. It was my mother’s. Even under the dimness of the moonlight trickling in, there was no mistaking that immaculately cursive hand.

          Letting go of the door handle, I kneeled down to pick up the neatly wrapped package. Then, slowly, as if afraid it would fall apart at the slightest touch, I began unwrapping the parcel. Upon opening the box, tears welled at the corner of my eyes. Six little cylindrical bundles of haw flakes were carefully packed within, each attached to a tightly rolled up strip of paper. Gently untying the scrolls from the sweets, I began reading them one at a time.

          Jie![2] I got you your favourite sweets! Wanted to buy you more of them but Ma said there wasn’t enough space in the box. Don’t worry, I’ll send you a big box of them once I’ve saved up enough money.

– Di[3]

          My heart ached as I thought about how much it must have costed for them to ship the parcel all the way from Penang to Britain. And with the little amount of pocket money…it must have taken Di-Di months of saving to be able to afford buying that one bundle of sweets…

          Jie, just because you’re the oldest doesn’t mean you have to hold everything in on your own y’know? It’s okay to rely on others a bit more from time to time. Enjoy the sweets you idiot, you’re crazy about those haw flakes. No idea why you like them either, they aren’t even that nice.

– Mei[4]

          Tears pricked the back of my eyes as my sister’s grumpy voice echoed in my ears. I could even see the disbelieving eye roll at my odd preferences in sweets after the last sentence. How I’ve missed our senseless squabbles and late-night chats….

          A-Yun, being an international student in the UK isn’t always the easiest thing, especially when you’re a minority there. You’ve already taken the necessary steps and have done all you can in that situation. Remember, it’s the end result and not the process that defines a victory. Remember what Sun Tzu mentioned in The Art of War? ‘The most important rule to victory is to know when to pick your fights and how to fight it’. Not all battles need to be fought to win the war. Never forget our family values and never lose sight of your goal. Don’t worry about finances, let me handle that. Just focus on your studies and aim for that first-class honours. The best revenge is to succeed despite their efforts to stop you. Continue to work hard and don’t give up. Know that regardless of the outcome, your Ma and I are proud of you and that we love you very, very much.

– Ba[5]

           A sob catches at the back of my throat as tears flowed freely down my cheeks. Acute pangs of longing weighed heavily on my chest, making it hard to breathe.

          A-Yun[6] ah, if it ever becomes too much to bear at Cardiff, come home. Ma will make you your favourite dishes. I know you want to do well but don’t overwork yourself. Remember to get enough rest and try to change your bad habit of skipping meals. Two boiled eggs alone don’t count as a proper meal either!

– Ma[7]           

          A sheepish giggle escaped my lips despite the tears, Ma’s exasperated voice ringing in my ears. I could almost picture the look of indignation on her face as she judges my terrible meal choices before proceeding to fill my bowl with steamy boiled dumplings.

          Ah…Ma’s famous boiled dumplings…the saltiness of minced pork marinated with soy sauce and sesame oil…the refreshing sweetness of spring onions and carrots contrasting the pork’s saltiness…flecks of finely chopped hei-mu-er adding a chewy texture to the tender meat whilst thin sheets of delicately wrapped dough encapsulated it all…the slight bitterness of the herbal broth complementing the savoury dumplings…[8] My stomach growled in protest as I smiled fondly at the memory.

          Wiping away the remaining tears, I unrolled the last strip of paper. Elegant brushstrokes painted familiar characters in horizontal lines. A wave of nostalgia washed over me as I recalled sitting on A-Gong’s [9] lap in the garden as kid, watching him practice calligraphy. I remembered how he used to read his poems aloud as I gaze at his hands guiding the bamboo brush across the ivory sheet, entranced by its flowing movements. Each word written was like a piece of art, each stroke of ink painting a meaning of its own.

Tranquil night’s darkness, the moon shines bright, From the mud the lotus rises, its petals pure despite. Vermillion red blossom like wildly raging flames; Elegant, virtuous, delicate, yet exquisitely untamed. The wise once said that adversity yields flair, An upright heart, oblique shadows don’t scare. Dripping water with time wears the stubborn stone, Sturdy wood too can be cut with rope saws alone! [10]

          A strange tranquility wrapped itself around me as I read the poem, A-Gong’s calm and mellow voice resonating in my ears. It was almost as if he was standing right before me with the usual toothless smile and twinkling eyes on his wizen face. Tenderly cradling the small box of sweets, a faint smile graced my lips. Their vermillion red and gold wrappings shone with a certain warmth under the soft light of the moon. Gently unwrapping one of the thumb-size bundles with shaking hands, I popped a disk-like piece into my mouth.         

          Immediately, a wave of warmth spread throughout my cold and hollowed body, almost as if it was infused with the life-giving heat of home. The familiar tart sweetness of the hawthorn berries cleared the heavy fog that clouded my mind and for the first time in a long while, I felt energy slowly seeping back into my worn-out soul, reigniting the snuffed-out fire within. Strange how something so small, barely the size of my thumb, could bring so much comfort and hope. That night, the moon shone a little brighter than usual, and the normally barren sky seemed to be exploding with billions of twinkling stars.

NOTES

[1] Alina Schartner & Yoonjoo Cho, ‘“Empty signifiers” and “dreamy ideals”: perceptions of the “international university” among higher education students and staff at a British university’, Higher Education, 74 (2017), 455-472

[2] ‘Jie’ means older sister in Chinese

[3] 'Di’ means younger brother in Chinese

[4] 'Mei’ means younger sister in Chinese

[5] ‘Ba’ means father in Chinese

[6] ‘Yun’ is written as ‘云’ meaning ‘cloud’

[7] 'Ma’ means mother in Chinese

[8] Hei-mu-er is the Mandarin term for black cloud ear fungus, a type of mushroom often used in Chinese cuisines.

[9] ‘A-Gong’ means grandfather in Chinese (specifically, the Hainanese pronounciation)

[10] This is a self written and self translated poem I wrote. The original Chinese version can be found here.

[11] ‘Moonlit Sparrow Through Parted Clouds’ is a play on 守得云开见月明 meaning the moon will shine brightly again when the clouds part, and 麻雀虽小五脏俱全 meaning though a sparrow is small, it has all the vital organs.

Author's Notes:

So this is one of my earlier prose pieces from uni (all the way back from first year lol). I don’t usually post prose? Not prose of this length at least. Anyways, I thought I’d take the leap and try posting them online now since I decided to start doing that for my poetry pieces? The rest of my prose pieces throughout uni somehow ended up becoming interlinked with several recurring characters though there are some inconsistencies since they were initially intended as stand-alone pieces rather than a series of somewhat loosely linked short stories. I’ll be posting them in story timeline sequence (or at least as closely to a sequence as I can since I didn’t exactly plan out the timeline of these pieces either) rather than in the sequence it was written in so there might be a slight fluctuation in writing style cuz they do kinda change over the years? Anyways, I hope you enjoyed reading Part 1~ 

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 

Since exams are over and graded and I've officially graduated, I can finally post my work online without having to worry about Turnitin picking it up as plagiarism because apparently you aren't allowed to plagiarise yourself according to university which is absolutely ridiculous but I'm not the one making the rules here so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Also, please don't reupload my works without permission.

[narrators-journal]

Stress relief is crucial

Oh what a shock, smut for the favored dr stone ship. Stano fans come get ya’lls juice, because I’m working on more of this sort of content lololol.

Warnings: Not much, just some soft sex, massages, unhealthy energy drink habits.

Exhaustion felt like a weighted blanket wrapped around Xeno's body and mind as he pulled into his driveway in the early hours of the day. For three days, three days, he'd been so swamped with preparations for an experiment that he hadn't even come home, let alone sleep more than two hours a night, so he was more than ready to get inside and just flop onto the couch and watch tv to relax. He knew he still wouldn't sleep until maybe noon, since he'd downed some energy tablets and an energy drink before leaving the lab, so he'd have to settle for a show he'd seen through a few times and just relax. Which, as he opened the door to his home and walked in, he was fine with. 

However, Xeno wasn't greeted with the normal sight of an empty couch and dark livingroom when he opened the door. Instead, he found the light on and his room mate and childhood best friend, Stanley, sitting on the couch.              "Why are you up so late?" He asked, admittedly a bit snappy, but the platinum blonde soldier was hardly phased,              "Y'know my sleep schedule is garbage, doll, I either sleep all day or not at all." He snorted, blowing out a puff of smoke as he spoke, "When was the last time you slept though? Because you kinda look like a raccoon with two black eyes." He pointed out, giving another snort when the scientist flipped him off and just decided to go to his room. Stan curiously followed.                "I'm overworked, under-appreciated, and too damned stressed." He muttered as he flopped face down onto the bed and let his friend run a hand through his snowy hair.              "If it'd help, I could give you a back rub?" He offered, running his finger down the back of Xeno's neck and along his back. The shorter man grunted,             "I'm too wired from energy drinks to sleep, so I guess." He knew Stan was giving him a dirty look without even turning his head to face the soldier, but he didn't chide him or anything. Instead, he simply climbed onto the bed and threw his leg over Xeno, straddling him and sitting on his hips. As if to confirm the need for the massage, Xeno's back cracked audibly, making Stan snort. Before the cranky scientist could complain or whine, his friend's hands were rubbing at his shoulder muscles with a calculated and measured grip, earning more little pops as he worked the tension from his body. It felt absolutely heavenly after the hellish few days the NASA scientist had had.              "You allowed to talk about what you were doing to make you so high strung?" Stanley hummed after the man below him let out a combination of a groan and a moan,               "One of my coworkers dropped the ball on his part of preparations, so we had to scramble to pick up the slack and ensure the experiment will turn out right. It was a nightmare and a half..." he mumbled, sighing happily while snaking his hands beneath his pillow while the blonde moved his calloused hands a bit lower on his back. Stan hummed again, as if he were thinking, and put a bit more pressure against Xeno's back so it'd give another audible pop as well as make Xeno give a small cry and he could plant a soft kiss to the back of his neck,              "I know a very quick way to kill two birds with one stone, if you'd like." The offer fanned a small flame in Xeno's stomach and cheeks, fuelled further by the way Stan's painted lips trailed down his vertebrae, leaving a trail of surprisingly arousing, loving kisses. The smaller male stayed silent for a while, just letting Stan rub the stress out of his exhaustion-riddled frame. Every once in a while, Stan would lean down again to kiss at his neck, coaxing the words he knew the awkward NASA employee wanted to say. He really did know the scientist too well. It took the soldier ghosting his soft lips against Xeno's sweetspot for him to finally break.             "mmmm, fine. It would be efficient to do," he agreed, turning a darker red when he felt his childhood friend smile against his pale neck, "J-just nothing too rough...I need to be able to walk." he added with a huff. With that, the soldier got up and tugged at the over-worked man's lab coat and shirt, so he begrudgingly got up and took them and his pants off, trying not to turn a darker shade of crimson as he laid back down. Now down to his boxers. After that, Stan stripped down to the same level of undress, returning to his spot and continuing to rub his hands over the pale man's lower back. Those same calloused hands continued down the NASA scientist's body, this time with more kisses to his neck, mostly focused around that spot that set his veins on fire and drew out whiney little sighs. Mentally, Xeno cursed his friend for having each and every weakness of his seemingly memorized after only one or two hedonistic nights, but he didn't actually stop him from kissing and nipping at that special spot until he was letting out proper little moans. Once he'd gotten those noises, the blonde tugged his boxers off and his hips up just enough for him to at least slip his legs beneath him. With his hips now in his friend's lap, Xeno could feel how excited the man above him was getting, and he couldn't lie and say he wasn't further riled up by the feeling of Stan's member straining against his boxers. The fog clouding his logic was thickened further when the blonde slowly begun to grind against him, his rough hands now on his pale hips to keep him in place while he lazily humped against him while letting out some of his own groans.               "Y'sure you don't want to get railed, doll?" the soldier purred to the the scientist, who was hiding his face in his pillow to muffle his moans and breathy curses that the friction and anticipation pulled out. However, he still nodded, lifting his head long enough to get out,                 "Work day after tomorrow..." So, Stan gave a frustrated and dissapointed sigh, but obliged. Of course, the equally riled up genius had lied. In reality, the primal part of his brain was yowling for him to just call in to work and forsake the ability to walk without a limp, to let Stan absolutely throttle him like he had the day before his first deployment, but his logic stubbornly butt-in. So, the scientist had to make due with filing the demand for rough sex for another day, for now Stanley leaning over to fish the small bottle of lube he knew Xeno had hidden in his side table drawer was enough to make his breath hitch with excitement. Xeno then hummed, biting back the urge to curse when he felt his friend's fingers circling his hole before slipping  a lubricated finger in. Stan chuckling at his shakey breath sent another bolt of pleasure down Xeno's spine, making his member twitch. The excitement was slowly killing the scientist, but all he could seem to manage was mumbled curses and gutteral moans each time his friend thrust his finger into him, gasping a bit when he worked in a second digit in order to warm him up for his length.               "God damn it, Xeno. You should know better than to moan like a whore. What are you trying to do? Torture me?" The soldier groaned, leaning over onto his free arm and forward so he could continue to rub at the scientist's prostate while his breath tickled his ear. The only reply he got was a muffled 'fuck', but it satisfied him well enough. With that, he pulled his fingers out and just resituated the needy man so that he could replace his digits with his dick. They both groaned at the feeling that brought, Stan pausing to wrap his arms around his friend's leaner frame, holding him against his well muscled chest and trap him there before he slowly began to move. The sensation of being filled with warmth was enough for Xeno to orgasm, but he couldn't bring himself to stop the soldier from continuing to lazily hump him. In fact, the sparks of pain simply mixed into the storm of resurging pleasure, further enforced when Stan's restraint would seemingly slip and he'd give a harsher thrust.            "S-Stan!" Xeno gasped, and that's all it took for the ex-soldier to understand. Without an intellegeable word further, he complied, speeding up and getting rougher. After that, the room was quickly filled with their moans and the rythmic slapping of skin against skin until they both orgasmed, the second time for Xeno, and his body felt another powerful wave of warmth flooding into him to heighten the already mind numbing euphoria. After that, Stanley slowed to a stop, but kept his member buried inside the NASA employee even when he rolled onto his side, bringing the scientist with.           "Feelin' better, doll?" Stan breathed, and all the thoroughly tuckered out male could do was groan, already half asleep. Content with his friend keeping himself buried in him so long as he kept his arms around Xeno's pale, tired body and cuddled him.