#this took almost a month because of the severe lack of practice

[kairosvale]

A vale to send you ⚔️

[ang3lofdivinity]

Can we have Andrew and Reader have a life after the events of the game (In the Bulletless Decay route)?

Reader would be an exchange student who would have gone to stay with the Graves family, but in the end she ended up being another 'victim' of the game's circumstances.

She would be a type of person who was indifferent to almost everything, cold-blooded, with somewhat sociopathic tendencies but with a kind heart.

Okay, let's do this, after Ashley's murder, Andrew and Reader finally got fake teeth and moved somewhere far away, but with all the recent traumas and along with the fear of being abandoned.

Andrew started to have possessive tendencies, a little clingy, toxic, manipulative towards our 'poor thing' Reader and that would result in them having children in the future, to keep her trapped in the coffin with him.

❝𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐟𝐟𝐢𝐧❞

꒦꒷︶°꒷₊˚ʚɞ˚₊︶꒦˚︶꒷꒦

Relationship(s): (somewhat)yan!andrew x fem!reader

Format: Headcannons + some stories

Genre: ANGST. A bit of fluff?? + Yandere(?)

Warnings: spoilers for tcoaal, yandere themes (toxic behavior, non consensual kisses and such, etc), marking, smoking, swearing, blood, death.

A/n: Ty so much for this first ever request!! Other warnings will be tagged in this post later on, ofc.

Also, fair warning to all of you, my dearest readers; if anyone or yourself is acting like this in real life, please get some professional assistance as this is not healthy. This is a work of fan-fiction. Thank you.

Andrew didn’t know all of this would happen, let alone know he’d meet someone new.

He and his sister had planned to rob their parents after killing that murderer within the woods where Andrew used up all of Ashley’s bullets in her gun!

How (absolutely not) lovely.

For you? You were living somewhat in Elysian.

You were a college student, a pretty good one too, so much so because you got a scholarship to get into the college in the first place, that being a huge achievement since that was hard and not only free!

But then again, you didn’t really have anyone to stay with..

Before Mr and Mrs Graves offered, of course!

Your parents died at a young age, and you learned how to take care of yourself from that age as well.

Yet.. you couldn’t feel anything for them, you felt lack of empathy, you didn’t even shed a real tear at their funeral when you truly wanted to. It’s like something was stopping you from doing so.

You felt crazy and something akin to depersonalization came over you, and it stayed there within you for months, or well your entire life.

You were taken into an orphanage until you became 18, moving somewhere else to start fresh where you became an exchange student.

During your time in the orphanage, you still had school.. and you did that well to the point where you colleges were almost begging you to join.

But you first needed somewhere to stay while you finished your studies.

And thankfully, the Graves gave you the offer to stay with them (which you took).

You’d cook, clean after your own messes, do chores, keep quiet unless it was a severely bad issue, wouldn’t be around during their.. ‘personal playful time’, and pay them for staying there.

In return, they kept you fed, helped you with clothes (specifically Mrs Graves), and the most important of all; let you stay there and finish your studies.

You worked some extra jobs outside of college to pay for the Graves and to continue your studies, etc.

You usually slept on the couch or at the table from studying, not like you got much sleep at all since you practically overworked yourself.

Speaking of college, you didn’t have many friends because of your “weird behavior”.

I’m talking about the fact had a lack of empathy for others including yourself.

You were impulsive, like you always bought something without a second thought.

You lied a lot, about not even doing the assignments that day- that you cared for them.

You were a bit manipulative, using people to get your way.

You ignored most rights and feelings of others, never caring about how uncomfortable they got with your behavior.

And the cherry on top, you were aggressive with most people, yelling at someone to get away from you because they were ‘threatening’ you.

All factors of your sociopathic tendencies and personality.

You had started going to therapy to try and fix that, and it somewhat worked..

Keyword: somewhat.

You found out that you had a much more.. softer side, so to speak.

There wasn’t much you could do about your sociopathic tendencies but to mask them while constantly trying to get better.

And you did just that.

Cutting to the chase here though, you were out for the day getting some ingredients for some cookies for you along with Mr and Mrs Graves.

And if you had any extras, you’d give some other people within the neighborhood.

You got all of your items, went to the register and payed for all of it before packing them all into bags and leaving.

The store wasn’t too far from the Graves house, so you would just walk to and from the store.

One your way though, an odd sense of apprehension took over you.

It.. was just super weird.

You had to stop for a few seconds on your walk and just, shudder.

And this wasn’t normal.

You pressed on nonetheless, making it to the house.

When you unlocked the door, taking out your key and opening the door all the way- you saw Mrs Graves on the couch in deep thought.

However, the atmosphere was palpable.

Something wasn’t right.

“Good evening, Mrs Graves.”

She didn’t respond, only looking up at you in pure fear.

“Dad??” Someone called from kitchen.

..Dad? What. Do you sound that much like a man????

Mrs Graves slowly got up as a perplexed look came across your face, going into the kitchen.

She said something you couldn’t hear before she approached you

“(___)..” she started, obviously nervous about the person calling out from the kitchen.

Before you knew it, two people walked out of the kitchen.

One was a woman with cherry blossom pink eyes, the same as Mr Graves. She wears a black top together with a visible black brassière, light grey shorts, and a yellow pendant hanging from a black choker. Her hair is uncombed and tied at the back in a ponytail.

Then the other was a man with emerald green eyes like that of Mrs Graves (just darker) who was pale-skinned with black uncombed hair, like the woman’s and a black, slightly over-sized jumper with light grey ripped pants.

“..meet my two children, Ashley and Andrew.”

Safe to say you were genuinely so shocked

“..Good evening. I’m (___), it’s a pleasure to meet you.” You spoke solemnly, a blank look on your face.

“Nice to meet you too..” the male suddenly spoke as he looked somewhat.. stunned and mesmerized by who knows what.

“What he said.” The girl rolled her eyes inconspicuously (or at least tried to), but you saw it. You always managed to catch onto small things like that.

From then on, it was somewhat.. odd living with the two newcomers.

You crashed over at a close friend’s house for a while as Mrs Graves tried to figure everything out, but a little bit after that Andrew gave you.. small little gestures here and there, like he was asking for you to stay.

And sometimes you did.

On those times, he would try talking to you after a lot of awkward silence in between you both.

“..(___), right?” Andrew quietly asked you, looking over at you.

“..Mhm.” You managed to utter back as you refused to meet his eyes as eye contact wasn’t.. all that comfortable.

“You.. go to college, what profession are you working on?”

“Law. I’m thinking about becoming a lawyer of some kind” you quickly replied back.

“Mm..”

“Let me guess, you were a psychology major?”

“How did you-“ He stuttered over his words, baffled by yours.

��

“You just seem like that kinda person to be interested in that major” you calmly stated. With the way he’s speaking in dulcet tone strikes you as a part of it, another part being some of his body language.

You two had a long staring contest before Andrew spoke again for the both of you.

“I’m pretty fond of you..”

“Any particular reason why?..”



“You’re kinda like… somewhat the opposite of my sister” He shrugged nonchalantly.

“Don’t like her all that much?” You raised an eyebrow.

“It’s- not that..”

“What is it then?”

“..We’ve only had each other for.. so long. As long as I can remember. My- our mom forced me to take care of Ashley when I was 7 because she had me when she was 15 and felt like I was able to take of a 5 year old Ashley. That,, didn’t go well. Shes attached to me at the hip and I can’t get rid of her now.”

“Maybe try. Point out every little thing shes doing that makes you uncomfortable, tell her how shes made it feel like what it is shes doing normal when it’s not.”

You returned to slowly eat your food while Andrew just, stared.

“..Thank you” he suddenly spoke as you gave a small nod.

Tapping your foot for a few seconds as you pondered about what to say next, you sighed softly and turned your head to him.

“Want some?..” you motioned to your food.

He, although astounded by the request, accepted.

He didn’t even bother grabbing another fork and just ate from yours..

Ew.

Moving on from this however, you two bonded over a lot of things you thought you probably never would.

Interests (mainly him liking things that you liked), personalities, dislikes, likes, etc.

And due to this, you started hanging out more with each other!

And his sister obviously showed that she didn’t like you because of that.

“Oops” she’d say as she spilled over your drink, ate your food even after when you caught her multiple times and told her to stop, dropping anything she had in her hands onto you, it was just.. sucky of her.

And whenever you tried anything even defending yourself, she went crying to Andrew!!

“I’m sorry.” He would mumble to you and give you a hug for his sisters acts while she stared daggers at you.

This went on for a while until one night—

“Get up” a harsh voice echoed quietly as you were violently shook from your slumber. You had passed out after studying for hours on end for your exam next afternoon.

The room was filled with a scent of blood, and the food you all had from earlier. The zephyr wafting inside from the window.

“Mmm…?” You drowsily groaned- given you’d just woke up you still felt incredibly tired, wiping the drool away from your mouth and looking around as a hand grabbed onto the back of your scalp and slammed it down onto the wooden table, creating a loud thud as you winced in response out of pure surprise.

You wanted to yell, scream, fight back. But, with the moonlight shining through the curtains of the windows and illuminating your surroundings, you saw Ashley leaning forward into your vision a bit more, holding a gun.

Your breath hitched as you chewed your bottom lip as you waited for Ashley said something else.

“I didn’t say to speak, dumbass. Keep fucking quiet.” The girl groaned as you heard footsteps approaching.

“Ashley!! I told you not to touch her! You have already taken our parents lives— but not hers. You can’t, Ashley.” Andrew’s familiar voice echoed throughout the kitchen, sounding demanding.

“Oh? So she matters more than me now? YOU CARE MORE ABOUT HER?” She started raising her voice, almost loud enough to alarm the neighbors as he slapped a hand over her mouth to shut her up.

“KEEP YOUR FUCKING VOICE DOWN.” He whispered yelled as he furrowed his brows together. She pried off his hand with a furious look, gritting her teeth together.

“Oh, don’t wanna admit it, huh? WELL FUCK YOU!” Ashley got closer to Andrew than anyone would be comfortable with as she pointed the gun at him.

“.. damn, crazy bitch.” You whispered to yourself and giggled, before you even knew it she had the gun pointed at you next.

And she got close to pulling the trigger before—

Blood.

Theres blood everywhere.

Andrew had killed his sister with the cleaver he had been clutching in his hands so tight that his knuckles turned white.

You didn’t even know what to say anymore..

Well.

“..what did you both do to Mr and Mrs Graves?” The question slipped past your lips even though it wasn’t the moment to be talking about any of this when someone in-front of you has been murdered.

“It’s.. nothing”

“Andrew- what did you do?” You asked, adamant on prying out an answer from him.

“…”

No answer.

Who knew that this little encounter would lead to both you and Andrew cleaning up the body of his dead sister.

But, nonetheless, he took a shower to clean up from the blood that splattered all over as you turned to washing both of your piles of clothes within the washer and dryer.

No sign of Mr or Mrs Graves at all.

You laid out some clothes from him from Mr Graves; A baggy sweater, some baggy light grey pants, some really old converse shoes you’d thought he’d fit in.

Surprisingly, they did!

Huh.

Like Father like Son. You guess

Being that those shoes are when Mr Graves was just a teen to young adult.

Nonetheless, you two decide to have a conversation about.. what to do now.

Which was… off putting.

“I can pay for most of the house bills. I have a job after all… though- I would have to find out how to get the police to believe that the Graves gave the house to me.” You spoke. Hands resting one over the other in your lap.

Andrew was in front of you while you were seated on the couch, your head felt.. dizzy about everything that he and his now.. non-available sister did.

The Graves weren’t the best, but they weren’t the worse while you knew them. So why?..

He told you everything about them that happened in his childhood, and you just… felt a bit disgusted.

“We could just.. move into a less expensive place.”

“True. Until I graduate, of course. Then I could get us into a much bigger and nicer house.” You chimed in, a faint small on your face.

“I can also help you get a job, Andrew”

He seemed.. surprised.

“I can also see if I can get you back into college. I can truly believable story about why you dropped out.”

Andrew stayed silent before he slowly dipped his head down low.

“Why.. are you helping me so much?”

A quiet gasp left your mouth, your lips agape as you fidgeting with your fingers. You paused to take a moment to yourself.

“..I feel bad for you. You deserve much more than this world offers.”

Safe to say he cried a bit. Thanking you profusely.

He also told you a bit about having to dump the bones of Mr and Mrs Graves, along with Ashley.

So you went just as the sun was beginning to rise, and chucked the bags out into the lake, with the three skulls.

The two of you then just… sat in the car for a bit, processing what you two just did.

“Ready?..”

“..not really but just,, go ahead…”

The car then drove off, you hugging your knees as you stared out the window.

And that’s when the two of you started bonding more and moved in together!!

Of course, the police got into contact with you more than once about the deaths of Mr and Mrs Graves, and you told them you knew nothing as you tried to make yourself seem sadder than you were about the situation.

Nonetheless, living with Andrew in the apartment you bought wasn’t too bad.

You quickly graduated your college, now getting a job as a lawyer.

Andrew himself got a job somewhere, thankfully well paying.

You two managed to move shortly after you both were doing well enough on money as he expressed that he wanted to go back to college, to learn psychology!

You didn’t see any harm in that, and decided to help him pay for the expenses.

Maybe you shouldn’t have though.

Eventually, during your time together, he’d start commenting on some of the outfits you wore.

“..That looks a bit too short”

“The color doesn’t match you”

“It exposes.. maybe a bit too much”

You of course questioned further why he was acting like this when he wasn’t even dating you, making him reply; “I’m just.. worried about you”

So you shrugged it off.

Then the gifts started.

Romantic ones.

Flowers you loved, stuffed animals, jewelry you liked, etc.

You found it.. admiring.

Andrew started getting more touchy too.

Even if you didn’t want it.

He apologized for that of course, before going back to touch you more.

This was all before he proposed the idea that you two should start dating.

Of course, for mainly appearance looks.

But you didn’t know the truth, nor the mistake you’ve made.

It only took a little more time before Andrew started getting more and more possessive over you.

He would always have some form of physical contact with you, started saying you could only go out with him, until it changed you couldn’t go out at all besides for work.

Even then he would secretly have a tracker on you always to make sure you were always where you said you were.

You tried to object to his actions, before he started making excuses for his behavior.

“Do you know how many men would drool over you??”

“I’m just trying to protect you.”

He would then cajole you to place down the subject.

Now while you were at home, he was all handsy with you.

And he was far too good at manipulating you that you would start standing up for yourself.

The final straw was when he got you pregnant.

You sobbed for days, you never wanted children.

You eventually tried to get him out and break up with him.

But he threatened you all too well.

“If you do this, i’ll make sure to ruin everything you have, you wouldn’t want to raise that child all by yourself?” “You wouldn’t live without me.”

So you sucked it up, and couldn’t even get rid of the child either since you were too afraid.

Genuinely afraid.

So.. now you’re trapped with him forever in this rose covered coffin. One where the roses are wilting and have poisonous thorns so you may never leave again.

Woah, this took— much longer than I expected. But, i’m alive!! Ty all for reading and I’ll be sure to try and update more!

[storytowrite]

Minsung Bonus

_________________

Paring: Minsung

Genre: smut, BL

Word count: 2066

Here's the promised bonus of Minsung. At first I wanted to create a whole story about them, but it turned into a one shot instead. I hope you will enyjoy reading it as much as you enjoyed the story about Hyunlix.

_________________

Several months have passed since the Prince of Fire's retinue visited the Winter Kingdom. The Prince of Fire's delegation had to return to their kingdom to fulfill their duties related to Hyunjin's stay in the Winter Kingdom. Everyone seemed pleased with the decision. Everyone except one person. 

Minho paced around the room, almost trampling a path in the wooden floor. He couldn't concentrate on anything. For several months, all he had done was walk back and forth in his bedroom, which he practically never left. He longed, and the longing that filled him had a bitter taste. 

From the very beginning, he was not happy with the decision made by the rulers. The sending away of his new toy (who was unimaginably handsome and vulnerable to his dominant side) not only made him unhappy but also gave him a strange sense of emptiness. 

The absence of Han's presence near him made Minho go crazy. His focus was practically non-existent. He felt as if a part of him had died. And yet Han was only in another kingdom. A few days away from him.

Minho knew, however, that he could not leave his kingdom. He had responsibilities to the ruler and the kingdom. He sighed heavily. How much longer would he have to endure this torture? The lack of Han around him was really giving him a hard time. 

Suddenly, he heard a knock on the door, which awoke him from his thoughts. He groaned displeased. Who dares to disturb him? 

“Yes?” He asked in irritation. Chan entered the room with a slight smile. Minho felt the urge to wipe that smile off his face. “What do you want Chan?” He asked groggily. 

“I have news.” Chan winked at him. “You'll like this news Minho...” 

“Mhm, certainly.” The man rolled his eyes. “What is it?”

“Well, your new toy, as you called him, is coming to visit us soon.” Chan watched his friend's reaction with a smile. “Felix's birthday is coming up, and in connection with this, our wonderful king is throwing a party. And this means that a delegation from the Fire Kingdom will also come here.” 

“T-Truly?” Minho stammered. Maybe he won't be alone that long after all? “How can I be sure that Han will come here?” 

“ Well, such that Prince I.N sent a letter.” Chan handed him a bunch of paper. “And thus confirmed who from the Kingdom of Fire's delegation will come. Han is on the list.” 

Minho smiled broadly. After all, his torture would end soon.

“Then what are we waiting for Chan? We need to help plan everything.” With renewed energy, Minho left the room. He was already looking forward to meeting Han. 

_________________

Preparations for Felix's birthday ball took a week. Minho got involved more than anyone else. The thought that he would soon meet Han filled him with joy. He couldn't wait to see him. 

When the time of arrival came he began to get nervous. After all, what they had experienced together during Han's time at the palace was not just a product of Minho's imagination. But what if Han didn't remember it as well as he did? What if he didn't miss Minho? Minho sank into his thoughts. 

After dinner, when everyone had already dispersed to their rooms, only Minho and Han remained in the dining room, who, because of the man's hand holding his thigh, was afraid to move. He glanced uncertainly at the older and definitely stronger man than himself. He swallowed his saliva loudly, and Minho's hand tightened again on his thigh. 

“M-Minho...” He began to feel uncertain. “I would like to get up... May I?” 

“ You're adorable.” Minho smiled amused. “And what will you do when you get up?” 

“I... Ehm... Well...” Minho's hand ran circles down Han's thigh, very close to his crotch. Han was unable to concentrate on anything. 

“Just say what you want, kitten.” Minho whispered sensually into Han's ear and bit his earlobe again that evening. 

“Me, I want...” A pleasant shiver went through Han. The man was unable to think straight. He moved slightly in his seat. Minho's hand on his thigh did not help him at all. Han knew that if Minho didn't stop right away, things would get tighter in his pants. And well, Minho apparently knew just as well. 

“Use your words kitten.” Minho urged him. “Do you want me to give you a break, or do you want me to.... help you with your pants problem?” 

“Y-yes.” Han groaned when Minho's hand found its way to his crotch. “Please.” 

“But what are you asking for, kitten?” Minho smiled, still teasing Han. 

“Take care of me, I beg you!” Han groaned. 

Minho didn't need more. He gladly took care of Han's problem. And then... Then Minho took Han to his room, where they spent the whole night and the morning of the next day together. 

“Oi Minho!” Chan woke Minho from his thoughts. “Focus, the guests are starting to arrive.” 

“ I am focused.” Minho rolled his eyes. 

“Ehe, just not on what's needed.” Chan laughed quietly under his breath. “What were you thinking about?” 

“Nothing.” Minho muttered. “You're awfully nosy.” 

“And you're awfully in love.” Chan snapped back. Minho, however, had to admit he was right. Actually, yes, he was in love. But he didn't want to talk about it out loud, yet. 

Finally, a carriage bearing the Hyunjin family crest pulled up in front of the palace. Minho held his breath. He would soon see Han. He waited so long…

Prince Jeongin, Hyunjin's brother and then Changbin, who was now the chief guardsman, got out of the carriage first. Minho, however, kept looking out for that one tiny person. His tiny person. 

Then finally, he got off. He looked... Well, different. He was now broader in the shoulders. Has he been exercising? His muscles had become more clear. A black long coat lined with fur flowed freely over his figure, and a white shirt and black leather pants perfectly highlighted his slender waist. Minho swallowed his saliva. Over these few months, Han had certainly had a glow up. 

It is true that each of the visitors has changed slightly over these few months. However, Minho paid no attention to them. Only Han Jisung mattered to him. Chan smiled as he saw how his friend could not take his eyes off the man who had turned his head. He knew that as soon as the three newcomers crossed the threshold of the palace, Minho would take Han away and probably no one would see them until their visit was over. 

"Welcome!" Chan called out cheerfully. "Prince Felix and Hyunjin are already expecting you." He bowed and gestured for the guests to come inside the palace. "The road must have been tiring." Chan began courteously. "Would you perhaps like to freshen up first?"

"No need. I'd be happy to meet my brother first." Jeongin answered him shortly. 

"Of course. Follow me then." Said Chan and led the guests toward the lounge they were already familiar with, where Felix and Hyunjin were waiting for them. 

Minho followed them, not taking his eyes off Jisung. He couldn't get enough of looking at how Han had changed over these few months. His figure looked unearthly in his clothes. Minho, therefore, was curious to see how Han looked without them. 

"I can feel your gaze on me, you know?" Han spoke up quietly, glancing at Minho. "It's not nice to devour guests with your eyes like that." Was Han just reprimanding him? 

"I don't devour guests with my eyes, only you, kitten." Minho smirked. "You've changed... And I don't know yet whether I like the change or not." 

"Find out then." Han winked and left a stunned Minho in the hallway, following the rest into the lounge. 

Could it be that Han had gained more confidence over these few months? And stopped being scared? Did he just challenge him? Minho was confused. But at the same time, he liked it. He was curious to see what else he could expect from Jisung during this visit. 

_________________

Minho chose not to enter the lounge. He waited outside, hoping Han would come out to him right away. The wait lasted an eternity for him before the door opened and seven men stepped out of the room. 

"Oh Minho? Have you been here all this time? Why didn't you come in?" He was asked by Felix, who was the first one to leave the lounge. 

"No, no... I just came here. All the guests are practically in the ballroom already, waiting for you." He replied, deftly lying to Felix. It wasn't the first time, after all. 

"Ah, the ball... I would have forgotten." Felix sighed. 

"Let's go then." Hyunjin smiled warmly at him. "Jeongin and the others will join us later. Minho, show Jeongin and the others their rooms, please." 

The two rulers, accompanied by Chan and Seungmin, moved into the ballroom to greet the rest of the guests who had just arrived. Minho, meanwhile, nodded to the other three and led them to the royal wing, where their bedrooms awaited them. 

Jeongin and Changbin quickly disappeared into their rooms. Tired from the trip, the two men went to rest. Han, on the other hand, feeling Minho's gaze on him, stopped before entering his room. 

"You're still doing it." He said, looking at him lazily. 

"What am I doing, kitten?" Minho asked innocently. 

"You're devouring me with your eyes." Han replied, not even stammering. Mimho blinked. He didn't expect Jisung to gain so much courage over these few months. 

"This is not true." Minho denied. 

"Minho, I can see it anyway." Jisung smiled slightly and turned toward the man. "We are alone here... Admit it , you missed me." 

"Since when did you become so confident, huh?" Asked Minho, walking up to Han quickly and pinning him to the wall.  

"Since our last night." Han replied almost immediately, watching the man in front of him. "Go ahead and say it. Say you missed me." 

"How do you know I missed you?" Asked Minho leaning over the man. 

"Because I fucking missed you." Said Han and joined his lips with Minho's, who for a moment shook himself out of his thoughts and didn't react. It lasted a few seconds before consciousness returned to him and he responded to the kiss, deepening it almost immediately. 

"I like your new side, kitten." Murmured Minho and moved his lips along Jisung's neck, causing Han to gasp quietly. "Come, I'll show you how much I missed you, baby." 

Minho and Jisung disappeared into the bedroom. As soon as the door closed behind them, the two men threw themselves at each other. Minho greedily undressed Han, tearing his shirt. Han did not remain indebted to him. The two men couldn't get enough of each other. Lips, tongues, teeth, hands, every part of their bodies fought for closeness. Longing mixed with desire filled the room they were in. 

Jisung pulled Minho behind him onto the huge bed. Even though he was underneath him, Han dominated. Minho surrendered completely to the younger man. Their kisses became sloppier and wetter. Minho bit Han's neck, leaving a huge hickey on it, at which Jisung drove his nails into Minho's back. The brief moment made Minho moan. 

"I didn't know you liked..." Han began. 

"Don't you even start, kitten." Minho threw a warning, at which the younger smiled sassily and kissed Minho, twisting them around. Now it was Han who was on top. "You're stronger than before." Minho said. 

"And you're more docile." Han smirked and leaned over Minho. He kissed him lightly, then moved his lips over his jaw, neck and torso. Minho sighed blissfully, giving in to the feeling. 

Han placed wet kisses on the man's body. Each kiss was laced with a hickey. Minho surrendered to Jisung completely. He let him do everything the other man felt like doing. Their louder moans filled the room. 

That evening Minho and Jisung spent time in the bedroom. They did not go downstairs for the ball. In fact, they practically did not leave the huge bed at all. Their joy after such a long separation knew no bounds. 

And one thing was certain. Neither of them was going to leave the other ever again. They were destined for each other. They were soulmates. 

When Fire meets Ice Masterlist

[badreamiest]

Finney's Day Off

One morning, Finney feels as though school merely isn't worth it. And he drags Robin down in his bad attendance to hang out for the day. It turns out they have the cutest time together.

TW: Very light angst, slight mentions of the basement, hurt/comfort, Robin swears like a sailor at moments, extremely fluffy, like it'll rot your teeth-. Oh and Finney worships Robin because I said so.

My ao3 account if you wanna find this and more of my works there. I don't write a lot so- yeah-. Enjoy!

Translations for later: "¡Mierda!" - Shit!

Finney wasn’t sure what had come over him that morning, but he did not feel like going to school. Something must’ve been in the air, polluting his common sense. Like, come on, he knew he couldn’t not go. That wouldn’t be very Finney Blake of him. Plus, he couldn’t risk the school contacting his dad over his disappearance. He was sure they wouldn’t; they’d likely assume he was sick since Finney wasn’t the type to just decide he wouldn’t go. Besides today, anyway.

So why was he currently walking in the opposite direction of the school building?

Robin was never one to turn down skipping school, and half the time, he’ll pretend he’s practically dying to avoid it. The other half is him being suspended or sent home for fighting. He wasn’t complaining, though. He enjoyed time away from the judgemental assholes roaming inside those pathetic school walls. So when Finney ran up to him on the way to school, panting and dripping in sweat, despite the particularly chilly air around them, asking him to take the day off with him, he couldn’t bring himself to say no.

Though, he did question Finney the entire way back to his house.

“Are you sure you wanna do this? This is very…weird of you, Finn.” Robin asked as he strutted beside the taller but skinnier male. He didn’t quite understand what could’ve caused such a strange decision from the same boy that lectured him about skipping, even if he’s got bloody knuckles.

“I ‘dunno. I just- woke up this morning and decided that school wasn’t worth it today.”

“Are you sure no one fucked with you? I’ll beat their asses. You know that.”

“Yes, Robin. I’m sure. I just wanna hang with you today.” Finney felt pathetic admitting it, but that was the only reason he could come up with that would make him want to ditch school. He assumed that’s also why Robin was the first person he ran to when he decided he would ruin his perfect attendance record.

Though now that Finney was walking calmly beside him, decision made and now in a clear head, he could take in Robin’s outfit today. He wasn’t wearing his signature t-shirt with the sleeves ripped off, but in its place was a sweatshirt that looked almost too big for Robin’s physique. It was slightly devouring his hands, reaching just below where his belt would be. He had black sweatpants, a somewhat different shade than the sweatshirt, but you’d have to squint to notice. Robin was wearing his everyday dirty sneakers that were loosely tied and were severely in need of a deep wash.

Robin was indeed the polar opposite of Finney. Finney was rocking a denim jacket with wool on the cuffs of the sleeves and on the inside for top warmth. He was wearing jeans that he thought would keep him warm but soon realized that he would freeze if they didn’t make it to Robin’s house fast enough. Finney was also sporting his favorite pair of Vans. He liked his outfit, but he enjoyed Robin’s even more. Maybe it’s just because it’s Robin.

Finney and Robin had been dating for almost 3 months now. When Finney had escaped that blasted basement and confessed all his feelings to Robin in a daze from the lack of sleep, Robin had waited until Finney awoke to ask him if he meant what he said and returned Finney’s feelings. After they spent at least an hour crying and hugging, Robin had sworn never to let anything happen to Finney again. Finney had proclaimed to always be there when Robin’s knuckles took beatings to kiss them better. Robin could live with that.

Ever since then, they have been inseparable. Robin would always come over to Finney’s house throughout the week to “study” (more like whining about being bored and then somehow pull Finney away from the table to cuddle and watch movies. Finney still didn’t know how he did it.). While Finney came over on the weekends to sleep over and avoid his dad.

Eventually, they noticed their days slowly get better when they had each other around. Even on the nights Finney would sneak out and tap on Robin’s window at 3am, bawling to him about what his dad had done. He screamed and cried in his lover's arms until his lungs burned, and he felt like he couldn’t cry anymore. Or on the days Robin felt utterly hopeless and scared with the fear of losing everything, so bad that he would break down and sob until he was choking on tears. Sometimes Robin would get so worked up he’d start punching his thighs if he was sitting, getting so frustrated that he was so weak. Finney would have to pull him into a hug to get him to stop, feeling Robin softly beat on his back before accepting that it was okay to not be tough all the time and then falling asleep in his angel’s grasp. They knew they had each other, which would outdo whatever they had to experience.

Finney watched Robin’s house come into view and almost punched the air. He felt an incredible adrenaline rush from his slight rebellious decision this morning. He was going to spend the day with Robin Arellano. No bullies. No teachers. No abusive father. Just Robin. And he couldn’t decide on which higher being to thank. He slowly grasped Robin’s hand in his, squeezing lightly, until he felt the hand pull away from his grip.

“Jesus fuck, your hands are freezing, Finn!” Robin shouted as he stuffed his hand in his pockets for a moment. Finney giggled evilly as he stared at his hands.

“Are they? I’m sorry,” he started before quickly shoving his hand on Robin’s neck, anywhere he could reach that wasn’t blocked by his beautiful dark brown hair. Robin screeched and pushed Finney away and into the street before gripping the collar of his sweatshirt and pulling it higher to cover the part Finney had touched. His hands left a tingly cold feeling that Robin couldn’t say he hated, but he didn’t love it either. He was perfectly warm before Finney had touched him with his ice-cold fingers, and now he had shivers running up and down his spine.

“Damnit, Finn-! Now I’m cold! Fuck you!” Finney was laughing so hard that he about fell over. His lungs were begging him to stop as he slowly felt lightheaded. Robin glared at him, grabbed his arm, and pulled him back onto the sidewalk.

“You brought it upon yourself when you pulled your hand away!”

“Well, sorry that your hands are colder than the fucking arctic waters of the South Pole!”

“Now you’re just exaggerating! They aren’t that cold!” Finney argued as he put his hands to his cheeks. It took a minute for the feeling to come back to his face, but when it did, he quickly pulled his hands away and shoved them in his pockets.

“Yeah, see? Fucking freezing.” Finney pouted as he stopped on Robin’s porch. Robin pulled out his keys and unlocked the door, allowing Finney to walk in first. They both kicked off their shoes and plopped onto the couch, absolutely defeated by the chilling walk. Their hands were aching and numb simultaneously, and their noses were bright red. Robin would’ve kicked Finney’s ass for ditching on such a cold day if he weren’t so surprised still. He didn’t understand why Finney decided today would be the day to fuck up his attendance, but Robin knew Finney. Robin knew Finney didn’t understand, either. Robin could see it on his face that he was just as shocked.

Robin sat there to warm his hands before an idea popped into his head. He quickly turned his head to the latter and smiled brightly, which resulted in Finney cracking a smile of his own.

“Wanna make some hot chocolate?! That’ll warm us up!” Robin asked excitedly and leaned closer to Finney’s face. Finney hated it when he did that. It would always make his face get hot, even if he felt as though he was on the verge of frostbite. Finney leaned away slightly to clear his throat and smile wider.

“Of course. Anything to bring the feeling back to my fingers.” Robin jumped up at this and pulled Finney with him, leading him to the kitchen. Finney leaned against the counter when they walked in and let Robin find the materials for the chocolatey drink. Finney knew Robin’s house like the back of his hand, but he knew Robin loved to make him things. The thought brought him back to second grade when they had an assignment for arts and crafts. Robin had made it his mission to make Finney a kitten out of cotton. It didn’t last long, though, because a random little girl in their grade had snatched the kitten when Robin wasn’t looking and ate it. You can only imagine why Robin landed in the principal’s office that day.

Robin finished putting the chocolate mix into the cup and stirred it gently before handing the exceptionally burning cup to Finney. Causing the latter to hiss quietly and start blowing on the drink while shifting his fingers uncomfortably around the mug. Robin began swirling his and then took a sip before jumping back and whisper-shouting a swear.

“¡Mierda! That’s hot!” Robin quickly set down his drink and fanned his lips, causing Finney to burst into laughter and spit out some of his hot chocolate. He wanted to ask if Robin was alright, but all he could do was mutter out incoherent words between giggles. When Robin regained his composure, he shot Finney the most upset glare he could muster. Of course, it didn’t affect Finney besides making him laugh harder. All of Finney’s giggling began to chip away at Robin’s glare until he started laughing with him.

When they finally managed to calm down, they walked to the living room with their mugs of chocolatey goodness. Finney was the first to sit down and huddle up with the blanket in the corner of the couch. Robin glanced at him and forced a frown.

“You plan on sharing my blanket, right?” Robin questioned as he frowned more and raised an eyebrow. Finney giggled at his expression and gently shook his head, causing his beautiful curls to shake.

“Nah, it’s my blanket now. Find your own.”

“That is my own! My mamá bought it for me!” Robin argued as he crossed his arms and glared at Finney. Finney laughed and sipped his chocolate. All Robin did was observe because they both knew he wouldn’t take it from Finney. Robin couldn’t help but think about how cute Finney looked at the moment. His cheeks were flushed from the hot drink the same beverage was making his flushed nose run a bit, so he was sneaking in adorable sniffs between giggles and sips. His hair was slightly covering his eyes, and he was beautifully wrapped in the latter’s blanket, completely comfy and warm. How could Robin steal it from him when he looked so angelic the way he was?

Finney finished his sip and sighed contently before bringing his fingers below his chin to pretend to think. When he was satisfied with his amount of fake consideration, he lifted the side of the blanket and nodded his head sideways to nonverbally tell Robin he could snuggle with him. His act had Robin’s heart leaping towards Finney, pulling his entire body with it as he slipped underneath the covers.

Both his and Finney’s hearts were racing, and both could feel it. Finney would definitely use this for his daily journal writing that Gwen was making him do for “therapy purposes.” It’s what Finney usually did; write about Robin. If it wasn’t something random like school or bullshit feelings about his father or his bullies, it was about how Robin made him feel. It’s how she found out that not only was Finney gay, but he was madly in love with Robin. Gwen immediately confronted him about it, asking him unbelievable questions finishing the conversation with an “I knew it” and walking away. It left Finney dumbfounded, but he left little notes at the end of each prompt saying how she should NEVER bring it up.

Tonight, he was going to leave a lengthy ass essay about how Robin’s heart was beating so hard and fast against his arm as he snuggled into him. He would write in meticulous detail about how many beats Robin’s heart made in a second or how it made his own skip a beat or two within moments. He would explain his stomach twirling every time he imagined how Robin must’ve felt at this moment since he was practically on the verge of a heart attack. Or maybe Robin’s body was breaking out into goosebumps, and Finney’s hair was standing on end, and how it was incredible that just one person, that person being Robin Arellano of all people, made him feel such a way. How could one person make him feel like he was suffocating and yet oh so alive at the same time? How could someone that shares the same amount, if not more, hatred towards the world make him feel as though the gods brought him here to bless him with such a beautiful person? It was mind-boggling.

Robin’s breathing started to slow, and his grip gradually slipped from his cup. Just before it spilled, Finney quickly caught hold of it and gently pulled it from him to set it on the table, along with his own. Robin snored softly into his ear while Finney admired him. How could he not regard the divine proportions of his partner? The way Robin’s hair outlined his face. How his nose was just the perfect shape for his face. How his eyelashes were the ideal length for his beautiful, big, doe eyes. Robin’s cheekbones were barely visible unless you got as close as Finney, so close that you could see the slightest indent of his cheeks but still puffy enough to exaggerate when he pouted. Finney also couldn’t help but adore how plump his lips were. How they could express so many emotions just from the direction they turned. How they contained so many soft-spoken words that only Finney got to hear, so many secrets they kept between each other. Robin’s lips were almost always chapped and covered with teeth marks and rips from when he got too nervous and bit them, yet every time they kissed, they were softer than anything Finney’s ever felt. Sure, he’s never kissed anyone other than Robin, but he’s sure no one could compare to Robin’s lips. Robin’s kisses were something out of this world. They could snatch Finney’s breath away faster than he’s ever experienced.

All these thoughts were making Finney exhausted. He planned to save the rest of his sentimental thoughts for his journal entry later and decided to nap with Robin. Robin’s mother would be home around 2-3pm, and Finney was sure she would wake them up and ask about them being there. It would be good for him to get home around the same time he generally would so he wouldn’t have to worry too much about his father. He could lie about what he was doing to cause him to be late and play it off as nothing. His plan's calm and soothing words made him feel safe enough to sleep. Or maybe Robin’s warm touch and welcoming scent lured the boy to slumber.

All Finney knew was that with Robin, he was safe. And that’s all he needed to sleep soundly.

[llythium-art]

15/12/22

An illustration i did a few months ago of another one of my DnD characters, meet Kwee-Kwee, an owlfolk, cleric of life and moon priest (he worships Séluné, the Moon Goddess).

His real name is Kheowyn, but when he tried to tell Emen the half-orc, she only understood something like "cui-cui" (french), bird sounds. So she named him Kwee-Kwee. And she never asked him to write his name down, so he never did. Same for the other members of the group they later met. He got used to his nickname anyway.

He's considered as a mute but actually isn't. He never has said a word in 60 years of existence and doesn't know how to talk. He only uses sign language to express himself.

He's considered as a social weirdo because of his lack of manners and his ignorance of society codes.

He doesn't understand what gender is. As a doctor, he knows the physical differences, but socially it makes no sense to him.

Séluné is everything to him. He's nothing without her and he'd rather die than live in a world where she isn't shining in the sky.

He's 2m10 (6.9 feet i guess ?) tall.

All he can remember from his first days as a newborn is the forest on top of a mountain where he was about to live as an hermit for the next 60 years. Guided by the light of the moon, he walked to an old and forgotten temple. Grateful and still a very small chick, he did his best to restore the place on his own. It took him several years, and dedicated himself to the goddess.

At first, life was hard, he mostly ate roots and worms, didn't know how to use his wings and didn't know how to talk or read. But as long as he could see the light of Séluné, he was happy. He's not exactly a mute since he can make bird sounds but he still doesn't know how to talk properly and only use sign language. There are only weird sounds coming out of his mouth when he tries to say a few words in common language, and the very few people he met laughed at him, so he stopped.

He never encountered anyone of his kind, all he knows of his species, is his reflection. As an hermit, he almost never saw anyone in 60 years of life. Very occasional travelers ended up in his temple after being lost, and thanks to them, in exchange of a shelter for some nights, food and help, they taught him how to read and write, with a lot of patience. He was finally able to read the dusty books of the temple, learned about plants, and after a lot of practice, learned their use. He became a decent healer. And when he didn't know how to use something properly, Séluné's blessing was there for him.

He was living a quiet life, dedicating every single day of his existence to Séluné, when one day, a wounded half-orc named Emen arrived at his temple. He didn't know at first, but she was being chased by bandits she had offended (she beat them up). He offered her shelter, healed her, unaware that his life was about to change for ever. A few days later, the bandits found the temple where she was hiding, and Emen took Kwee-Kwee with her to prevent his death, leaving his home to the bandits wrath. The last image he has of his beloved temple, was a intense fire, burning 60 years of his existence to ashes.

His real name is Kheowyn, but when he tried to tell Emen, she only understood something like "cui-cui", bird sounds. So she named him Kwee-Kwee. And she never asked him to write his name down, so he never did. Same for the other members of the group they later met. He got used to his nickname anyway.

He's considered as a mute but actually isn't. He almost never said a word in 60 years of existence, so his vocal cords don't work properly. That's why he only uses sign language to express himself.

He can be considered as a social weirdo because of his lack of manners and his ignorance of society codes. Which happens when you've been an hermit for 60 years.

He doesn't understand what gender is. Because of him being a doctor, he knows the physical differences, but socially it makes no sense to him.

Séluné is everything to him. He's nothing without her and he'd rather die than live in a world where she isn't shining in the sky.

He's 2m10 (6.9 feet i guess ?) tall.

[queengarbage]

feeling really angry about life today and i just need to rant a little

it sounds so silly to be like "tearing my acl significantly changed my life and not for the better" but like this injury fucking sucks and i hate it and i hate my life right now. and yeah, i'll recover and things will get better. but like. not for a fucking year. i can't even fucking walk right now. all the muscles in my left leg have just vanished to the point where i can't even lift my foot off the ground without assistance. and i'm just so tired and i'm only at the beginning of this journey.

sports and working out have been such a huge part of my life for my entire life and to have something that is both an outlet for frustration/hard feelings and also a huge source of joy just yanked away from me without warning has been really fucking hard to deal with. and like boohoo i can't go kick a ball around with my friends people are dying kim but like. i feel trapped in my body, my life severely limited by my lack of mobility. i do not feel like myself. i'm angry. i'm constantly crying. i'm not even in pain anymore, it's just that i physically cannot do anything!!!!! and i've just never been in this position before and i'm not handling it well.

it's been almost 3 months since i got injured and almost 2 weeks since i had the surgery and i feel like i'm being robbed of that time, as well as the year of recovery ahead of me. my partner and i keep referring to this summer as a "sacrificial summer" (because he's getting ready to apply to post-docs/finish his phd, and because i literally can't walk, so neither of us ever leave the apartment). and it's kind of like "yeah okay we just gotta get through this period and things will get better." and yeah maybe they will, but they won't be the same as they were before.

my sister tore her acl her junior year of college when she was playing soccer. she trained really hard to come back for her senior season, and a week after she started practicing again, she tore her other acl. after that, she took a few years off (because who wouldn't). she started playing again this past year. and then she tore her acl for a third time. my dad has also torn his acl playing football. this injury haunts my family, and even when i get cleared to return to sport, who knows if i'll be brave enough to come back?

i hate so much that i will never be able to step on a field with confidence in my body again. my athleticism has always been a huge source of pride and confidence, it was something that i put a lot of time and effort into, and i don't know if i'll ever feel that way again. i am very grateful that i'm still able to do a lot of other things not related to physicality (i can still write, i can still work, i can still pursue my intellectual hobbies/interests), but there is a particular thrill of satisfaction that comes from physical achievement, and i'm just really sad that i'm cut off from that for the forseeable future, and that even when i return, it will probably feel different.

i just want things to be normal again. and they're just straight up never going to be, not like they were. i'll find a new normal, and i'll adjust, and i know this time will pass. but right now i'm smack in the middle of it and i'm just so deeply, deeply unhappy, and i just needed to let that out.

[lizseyi]

What Are The Risks Of Allowing Your Office Desk To Become Dirty - Nationwide Property Clean

There can be a temptation among many of us at times to imagine that a lack of cleanliness in the office would be largely an aesthetic matter, or even one of simple pride, rather than necessarily something that should be a top-of-the-line priority for company bosses and workers. 

Yes, when there are constantly new and stressful assignments coming in, and deadlines to contend with, you might easily forget to wipe down your office desk – never mind undertake a more substantial clean of the space as a whole. 

But below, we have set out some of the risks of allowing such deterioration in the cleanliness of your office desk, and why you must therefore take it seriously. 

It can pose a real risk to your health

Did you know that the typical office desk hosts over 10 million bacteria? On its own, that might seem like a relatively meaningless figure, but it amounts to 400 times more dirt than can be found on a toilet seat. 

This, combined with the fact that bacteria can remain active for months on surfaces and equipment in the office, should worry you if you haven’t cleaned your office desk for a while. The germs from such surfaces can easily transfer to the person using the space – probably you – causing illnesses such as flu, food poisoning, and diarrhoea. 

And illness, of course, brings with it such risks as forced absences from work, and the capacity of your company’s team being reduced. It’s one reason why arranging for your office desk to be professionally cleaned isn’t just something you might do for the sake of maintaining a pleasant appearance.  

Your workspace becomes an off-putting sight 

We have mentioned in this piece already that the cleanliness of an office workspace isn’t just about aesthetic matters. 

Indeed, that is because even the visual factors that do exist can have real knock-on practical effects. A classic example is a potential client or stakeholder coming into your office, seeing the dirtiness, and perhaps suddenly not being so confident about being associated with your company. 

You might imagine that a would-be client is hardly likely to withdraw from a relationship with your company simply because of a dirty desk. However, it might be a signifier of a bigger concern; that a company that doesn’t even keep its office desks clean might not be one that takes pride in itself, or that values the health and wellbeing of its employees.

You are less likely to want to spend time at your desk

When a survey was carried out several years ago – covering some 1,500 workers in 300 offices – it was found that in offices where workers felt there was a lack of cleanliness, 72% of respondents said their working environment damaged their productivity. 

Meanwhile, almost half – 46% – of those respondents said they took longer lunch breaks and didn’t spend as much time in the office as a result of such dirtiness. A quarter of those polled even said they took sick leave due to finding their unclean surroundings depressing. 

These are statistics that should worry employees and employers alike. As a worker, you will naturally wish to have a pleasant and inspiring place in which to work. And if you are reading this as a company boss, the implications that unclean office desks could have for such things as employee sickness rates and staff retention should be causes for concern. 

Hopefully, all the above will have made clear to you that a dirty office desk can bring risks far beyond the workspace being less pleasant to look at. Certain detrimental effects can be serious ones for a company and its workers, particularly given the potential accumulative impact of the aforementioned factors combined. 

So, one thing your organisation should be aspiring to do in 2023, is get its office cleaning regime right. Enquire to the team at Nationwide Property Clean today, and we can help make that a reality for your business, for the right price. 

[barnesafterglow]

in the heat of the moment

summary: your boyfriend doesn't treat you right. bucky knows he won't make the same mistake

pairing: boyfriend's dad!bucky barnes x f!reader

word count: 3.2k

warnings: age gap (not explicit stated but reader is 21, bucky is 40), infidelity (on reader's end), shitty bf, smut (MINORS DNI) [mention of masturbation, oral (f receiving), fingering, hand job kinda, pussy job (i hate saying that), penetrative sex, porn with plot with feelings]

a/n: apparently the thought of kinktober awakened something in me, because i sat down and wrote this in one sitting after not being able to finish anything since may. smut is always out of my comfort zone, but i always need the practice. make sure to reblog and comment if you enjoyed this!

main masterlist ─ i know longer have a taglist but you can follow @theafterglowlibraryand turn in notifications for fic updates! 🤍

You knew it was wrong. You knew you should at least break up with your boyfriend first. It was terrible. You both were terrible. But that didn’t mean you were going to stop.

You knocked on the door of the Barnes’ house, already annoyed. Jacob had promised you a movie night, and of course his car wasn’t in the driveway when you pulled up. You only even knocked on the stupid hope that maybe he was here even if his car wasn’t. But even as you walked up the front steps, texting him to ask if he was home, you already knew the answer. 

He had just texted you back sorry babe as the door opened. You nearly dropped your phone at the sight in front of you - Mr. Barnes in a sweat soaked shirt and a pair of shorts with an inseam that shouldn’t look so good on a man his age. Half of you wanted to turn around and run back to your car, the other half wanted him to invite you in. Like an angel and devil on your shoulder, each whispered to you, but you knew what you really wanted.

So when he said, “Oh, hey. Jake’s not here, but you can go ahead and come on in,” you brushed both imaginary friends off you and stepped through the doorway.

“Thanks, Mr. Barnes. Jake bailed on me and I had no clue until I got here.”

As you followed him into the kitchen, you tried not to stare as his back muscles moved under the grey of his t-shirt. You wiped at a wetness on the corner of your mouth and hoped the drool was just a figment of your imagination

“How many times have I told you to call me Bucky?” he asked as he pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, taking a sip. This time you couldn’t help stare as a bead of water trailed down his throat.

You shook your head of the filthy thoughts spiraling - like how it would to have that shirt stick to the skin of your back as he bent you over the kitchen counter and fucked your brains out - and scoffed.

“Probably as many times as your son has been an asshole,” you muttered under your breath.

“What was that?” But the half smile on his face told you that he knew exactly what you had said.

“Nothing Mr -, I mean Bucky.” That half smile turned into a full grin that nearly brought you to your knees.

Bucky was, for a lack of better words, a certified DILF. He’d raised Jacob since his mom up and left them when he was three. They had moved to your hometown a year ago, and unfortunately caught Jacob’s eye immediately. At first he was sweet, always doting on you, bringing you little gifts at work, making you smile. Then somehow you ended up here, almost a year later, and you had spent more time with his dad than you had him in months. Every time you came over and Jake had found better plans, Bucky insisted he cook you dinner so you didn’t make the trip for nothing.

Usually, he packed it up and you took several nights worth of meals home with you, but on occasion he would ask you to stay, and you ended up talking for hours.

For a while, you felt weird that you got along better with your boyfriend’s dad than your own boyfriend. Now, you showed up even when you knew Jake would cancel, just to see him for any amount of time.

It started off innocent, really it did. The talks were casual, mundane, about things like how your degree was going and what he was up to at work. Then one night it took a different turn.

You were already two glasses of wine in, even though you should have known this was coming. Jake had forgotten a lot, been distant lately, but you thought for sure you could count on him for your birthday.

Instead, you sat on the couch in his living room for well over an hour, texting him periodically, with no response. You had finally given up, making a move to stand and leave, when Bucky walked through the front door.

His hair was in a disarray, his tie already loosened and the top few buttons of his shirt undone. You knew it must have been a stressful day if he was coming home this late. He took one look at your mascara stained cheeks, and gave a nod towards the couch before disappearing into the kitchen.

You obediently sat back down, and a moment later he emerged with two glasses and a bottle of wine. He poured a healthy amount in each and you both drank the first down in silence. When he poured a second glass and handed it to you, he finally spoke.

“My idiot son?” It was more of a statement than a question. He knew how his son had been treating you, and no matter how much he tried to talk some sense into him, nothing changed.

You nodded, afraid that if you voiced the words then you would crack. The tears were already pushing against your eyes, willing you to let them free. Instead, you swallowed them down and chased them with a healthy sip of wine.

When you had drained half the glass, you finally looked at Bucky, staring into his eyes.

“Your son fucking sucks, Mr. Barnes.” In anger, in frustration, in whatever other emotion overtook you as the wine opened your system, you squeezed your eyes tight and a tear slipped out. You moved to wipe it away, but Bucky was already there.

In a split second, he had moved across the couch and was closer to you than he had ever been before; his thigh pressed close to yours and his thumb stroking the soft skin of your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, like he was telling you a secret. “You deserve better.”

You wanted to pretend you imagined the flicker of his eyes down to your lips, that it was the alcohol making you see things. That would make everything easier. But you couldn’t ignore the cool touch of his hand on your thigh, just below where the hem of your dress ended.

“You deserve someone who’ll treat you better.” He sucked in a breath, contemplating his next words. “In every way.”

His fingers inched higher, daring to slip under the fabric, pushing it up just a fraction up your leg. Your eyes flickered from your lap back to his flushed face, dark eyes staring back at you. He wasn’t hiding it now - his gaze on your lips was clear, and he leaned close enough that you could taste his breath. Just another moment and he -

The front door swung up and you both sprung apart. You stood up quickly, and saw Jake walking into the living room on unsteady feet. When you moved forward to help keep him upright, he all but collapsed in your arms. It wasn’t until you had dragged him halfway to the couch that you realized you had no explanation for the two glasses and a half empty bottle of wine. But when you finally laid him down, there was no trace of them - or Bucky - almost like they had never been there at all.

You had planned to break up with him then. It was the last straw of the last straw of the last straw. You knew it as soon as he wasn’t there to greet you that night. But then Bucky snuck through your mind and tugged on a string you couldn’t ignore. So instead of breaking up with your shitty boyfriend, you kept him around for the sole purpose of getting to see his father.

You figured it was only fair after everything he had put you through.

Now, you had to shake your head to get rid of the memory. But alone in your bed at night, when your hand slipped under the sheets and your breaths quickened, all you could think about was that hand on your thigh, those eyes boring into your own.

“Do you want a drink?” His voice pulled you from your own head and you looked up. He was extending his arm, the water bottle still in his hand.

You started to shake your head, declining him, when a rampant idea took hold. So instead of doing what you knew you should, you took the bottle from him. It was ice cold in your hand, and you winced at the thought of what you were about to do.

When you lifted the bottle to your lips, you purposely tipped it too far, letting the cool liquid spill down the front of your top. You yelped from the sudden cold - and you were sure to Bucky it sounded like surprise - and pulled the bottle back, “accidentally” spilling more. You shrugged your jacket off, letting it fall to the floor, and stood in front of Bucky in nothing but a thin white tank top - now soaked completely through.

He had made a move as soon as he heard you shriek, scrambling for a dish towel in a drawer, but when he turned to hand it to you, he couldn’t take his eyes off your chest.

You hadn’t worn a bra, so the entirety of your breasts were on display, so much that he could see the color peeking around your pebbled nipples. He lightly bit his bottom lip, pressing the towel lightly to your exposed skin, curiously careful not to go any lower, though his staring never stopped.

“I, uh,” His words stuck in his throat. “I can grab you a spare shirt if you want to throw that in the dryer.”

“Thank you so much, Bucky,” you said sweetly. Then, before you could talk yourself out of it, you peeled the soaked tank top off and let it fall on the tiled floor.

One of his hands gripped the counter so hard his knuckles were white, while the other clenched into a fist, trying desperately not to reach out and touch you.

“I’m feeling cold from the water.” You took a small step forward, placing one hand lightly on his chest. The heat radiating off of him was a godsend. “Do you think you could help warm me up?”

You could see the thoughts racing through his mind, trying to decide if this was real, if it was a trick, if it was worth it. And he had his answers in the same instant; yes, no, a thousand times yes.

Before you could even begin to question yourself, he had you caged against the kitchen counter, awe in his eyes as he looked down at you.

He still didn’t touch you anywhere except his arms that crowded your body, but you could tell he wanted to. So you gave him a push, slowly moving your hand under the hem of his shirt, feeling the smooth, hard expanse of skin there. You stroked gently, trailing your hand down until they brushed the waistband of his shorts.

It was like a spark lit up in him, and he dipped his head to capture your lips with his own. You immediately moaned into it, your surprise causing you to grip the band of his shorts, pulling them down enough for you to feel the heat of him. 

His hands moved, finally, off the counter, to your sides. They squeezed lightly, like he was testing the waters. But you didn’t want timid or careful; you wanted what you had been craving for longer than you wanted to admit. So you pushed your chest against him, your still hardened nipples brushing the soft fabric of his shirt. His hands moved again - one grazed the side of your face, slightly possessive and guiding your kiss, and the other moved to grip your breast. It was a dizzying mixture of dominance and care, and you didn’t think you had ever been so turned on in your life, let alone from just a kiss.

Sick of wasting time, you let your hands move up to tug his shirt, getting as much off of him as you could in the position you were in. When he caught on, he pulled away from you long enough to pull it up and over his head. You were almost as mesmerized by the sight of him topless and he was with you, and you blinked dumbly until he placed a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him.

“You have no clue how much I’ve wanted this.” There was emotion radiating from him that you couldn’t name; all you knew was it turned your core into molten lava.

“I think I might have an idea,” was your response, and you pulled him down for another kiss. This one wasn’t like the first - wasn’t slow and searching. No, this one was hot and desperate, all the tension from months of time lost bursting open and shattering across the kitchen tiles. 

You looped your hands back into your waistband, trying to get them off, but he pulled away, biting your bottom lip lightly as he did.

“Wanna do this right,” he murmured, lips still close enough that you could feel the moment of them as he talked.

“I don’t care. Just -”

“I do,” he interrupted, a touch of a growl in his voice. Then, without a second of hesitation, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder as if it was the easiest thing in the world. You squirmed at first, until he placed a light swat to your ass, and then you let him take you wherever he wanted.

When you felt the soft plush of a mattress beneath your back, you didn’t even have time to register the fact that you had never been in his room before. His hands were already on the button of your jeans while he bent down to kiss you again. Once he had them off your legs, he pulled you to the edge of the bed and kneeled before you.

It was nearly enough to make you come at the sight. Here was this beautiful man, one who could have anyone he wanted, kneeling before you like he was ready to worship. His hands roamed your legs, then he let his mouth follow the same trail. He bit lightly on your inner thigh and he spread you further, until you were fully exposed to him.

He watched you in amazement, bringing his hands up to touch you lightly - to spread you apart and see you glisten with wetness for him. You wiggled your hips a bit, almost uncomfortable with the attention you were receiving. Then his lips met your core and any other thought you had was lost to the wind rustling outside.

His expert tongue and the beautiful feel of beard burn was enough to have you panting, gripping the thick strands of hair on his head.

“Bucky,” you gasped. “I’m gonna -”

But he didn’t let you finish your sentence. Instead, he pushed two fingers into you, and you clenched down around them, unable to hold yourself back. He didn’t stop as you rode your high; he let his head rest on your thigh, looking up at you, keeping the pace of his fingers until you finally came down.

When you could finally begin to relax, he pulled his fingers from you, moving so his body hovered above yours.

“Open.”

You obeyed immediately - something about him made you do it without question - and he gently rubbed his fingers on your tongue. You closed your mouth around him, cleaning your own release from him, and when he pulled them out he immediately replaced them with his own lips.

“Knew you’d be fucking perfect,” he said, and you weren’t sure whether it was to you or himself. You didn’t have time to dwell on it because he was moving you like a ragdoll again, positioning you on your back, your head resting in the fluff of pillows, and he placed his body weight over you.

Almost immediately, your hands went to his shorts, wanting desperately for them to finally be off. And he obliged you, more than ready to give you whatever you wanted.

He quickly pulled the shorts off, and once he was back on the bed, he stood on his knees in between your legs, stroking his painfully hard cock. You reached out almost timidly to replace his hand with your own, and at his low groan, you picked up the pace, twisting your wrist and squeezing lightly. He bit his lip harshly, trying to hold back a damn near whimper at the feel of your hands finally on him.

Then he gripped your wrist, stopping you from ending it too short. Again, he laid his body over yours, careful not to crush you, and you felt the length of him rub against you. Both of you moaned into the kiss you shared - you at the feel of him brushing your sensitive clit, him at the slick feel of your wetness coating him. He moved his hips lightly, keeping that momentum going, until the thrusts started to speed up, and his tip caught at your entrance.

“Please, Bucky,” you gasped, moving your hand to grip him, guiding him to where you were willing and waiting. “I want you so bad.”

Unable to resist - not that he would ever want to - he finally sunk into you. Inch by inch, you whimpered at the sweet mixture of pleasure and pain that the stretch of someone so big brought. Bucky had his forehead pressed against yours, breaths heavy and trying not to hurt you. Once he was fully seated inside you, your eyes met his, and a slight nod gave him permission to move.

He started thrusting into you, gradually at first, alternating between kisses to your lips and trailing them down your jaw and neck; it was like he couldn’t bear to go a moment without his lips pressed to you. Then, as the intensity grew, so did his movements. It wasn’t long until you were moaning without restrain, every breath a mixture of his name and whatever expletive your mind could come up with. You wrapped your arms around him, scratching red lines down his back as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

He was mumbling something over and over, his grip on you tightening.

“Come for me, Bucky. Please, I want you so bad. Fill me up.” He moaned, lifting his head to meet your eyes again, when you said the words that sent him hurtling over the edge.

“I’m yours.”

Nothing could have prepared either of you for the intensity of the shatter. Both of you exploded in sync, sparks flying, flames igniting, threatening to burn the goddamn world down. Bucky was an out of body experience, where your only tether was the feel of his body against your own. He lit you up from the inside; threatened to consume you.

And you would let him.

[1randomperson15]

So, Ace Race...what happened?

To give everyone a clearer, more objective view of the situation, I present: the spreadsheet. It contains a list of every player's two times and placements and who disconnected (Keep in mind there could be more, these are just the names I saw in chat join/leave).

I calculated how many places players went up or down and how their time improved. They are color coded by team, and for your convenience I put three lists next to each other: The original placements, the new placements, and what the placements would look like if the only new times you counted were the players that disconnected. (This took seven hours).

Analysis under the cut

For the record, when the first player logged off (Captain Sparklez), there was 4:30 left, when the last player rejoined (Scar) there was 4:01 left, the first person (Dream) placed with 3:28 seconds left. they stopped the game with 1:20 left. And 5up, as far as I know, didn't even rejoin until after the race was over.

Fruit brought up the issue in chat at 2:29 left (after he finished), a few others agreed with him. Oli brought up redoing it with 2:07 left. I don't know whether the admins didn't notice or didn't realize how many people actually dc'd or figured teams were equally affected, but they announced a redo at 1:44. It was tight, they made a decision in 2 minutes and 17 seconds if they noticed everyone disconnecting. Or in less than a minute if they only noticed when people talked in chat, and they did stop the game 14 seconds later.

-

Now for some analysis, many players dropped a few placements and felt upset about it, thinking they did worse. This leads to them becoming more frustrated with the reset. I suspected they likely didn't, it was just there were quite a few really good ace race players that got discontented (Illumina, Fruitberries, HBomb).

The vast majority of players improved their time, often by a lot. The only ones that didn't were: Dream, Sapnap, InTheLittleWood, Smallishbeans, FoolishG, Badboyhalo, and AntVenom.

To my knowledge: Dream tried and failed to copy Purpled's skip several times, Martyn had a really good run the first time/tried skips, and Ant's trident didn't work/he tried skips. Joel, Sap, and Bad's were 0-2 seconds worse. I don't know what happened to Foolish (lack of morale ?)

As to be expected, everyone who disconnected improved majorly from 45 seconds to over 1 minute and 30 seconds. Most also rose quite a few placements, but not all. And not enough to account for all the upset in the new placements, so what else?

Well, those who practiced for ace race a lot, vod reviewed, and had experience was now void of those advantages. Now, people had a fresh run, they are familiar with the movements needed, and they saw other people do skips that they can try.

Bad originally had a massive advantage because he has a unique way he practices it that familiarizes the movements to him, but that's now gone, though he only lost one second, he dropped 14 places. Hannah, on the other hand, had never played ace race in an event before. But with the reset, she did and thus performed much better, gaining 6 places.

Almost everyone got faster times, but certain people with certain circumstances were more affected by it. So players, rest assured, you probably did improve the second time around, others just improved more (others being players that were previously handicapped).

(Also Dream, yes it was at least 10 people that were dc'd, Skeppy has not played in 14 months and it was Fruit and Illumina.)

Here's the link if anyone was having trouble accessing it: https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1TnIGRBftyOJUFE0IDK-cffCyTHVMVeQjeJ8nz-4egY4/edit?usp=sharing

I really hope this doesn't need to be said, but DO NOT use this as a basis to harass Scott or Noxite or any of the Noxcrew. I really hope this clears up some misunderstandings and make some people feel better, not make things worse. It was a tough decision, but I think it was by far the right one. You can see for yourself how much of a difference the disconnects made. Noxcrew does a lot every month to bring us the wonderful event that is MCC, Scott made the teams we're all so fond of, they just released the closed beta of MCC Island. No, things weren't perfect or ideal, but it was out of their control. Besides, we've only had 2 MCCs out of 24 that was this level of scuffed and I think that's a pretty damn good track record.

[dougiewonderland]

And With A Little Magic (Jack Hughes)

Word Count: 1662 Notes: I did not edit it because I wanted to get it out to you guys tonight so please excuse any typos or awkward sentences! Tagging: @bords

One of Jack's favourite things to do when he was around you lately was put his hands on your stomach like you were expecting. Whenever you asked him why, he always responded "Just imagining," without divulging further.

The two of you had spoken briefly about children and your plans for the future when you moved in together, but there were never any serious conversations about when you wanted to start a family. His career is his top priority at this point in life, you know. But still, his newfound affinity for "just imagining" made you confused.

Which is why you had no idea how he'd respond to the news that he didn't have to imagine anymore.

You consulted your best friend and even his mother on how to tell him, and the three of you came up with several ideas: an infant 86 jersey with "Daddy" on it, a pair of baby skates, a mini treasure hunt, even a sweater for your dog that says "Big sister." But nothing felt original enough to you. You ended up stressing about it enough that even Jack took notice.

"Hey baby, are you okay?" he nudged your arm at the dinner table. "You look like something's bothering you."

Instead of answering, you simply shook your head, opting to try and change the subject while searching for inspiration in what excited him most about his day.

And while Jack knew by your response (or lack thereof) that there was something on your mind, he also knew that if you wanted to talk about it you would've. So instead he told you about practice: how Dougie tried to pull off the Michigan during a team game, how much harder the drills were, and how he worked on the choreography for his breakaway challenge for this year's All-Star weekend.

And that's when it dawned on you.

Ever since his first All-Star appearance and first breakaway challenge a few years ago, he's talked about how cute it would have been to perform with a child of his own. There are a lot of hockey memories and experiences he would love to share with children of his own, and that has always been one of them.

And even better for you: he goes away for a week-long road trip in a couple of days, which should give you enough time to prepare everything for when he gets back. Over the course of the night as he's showering and getting ready for bed, you browse the internet for everything you need, making sure it will all arrive on time for you to set up before he gets back from his trip.

And for the first time since you found out last week, you felt like you could breathe.

---

Jack doesn't arrive home until almost 2am, long after you're in bed. You wake up just enough to welcome him home and feel him climb into bed, holding you and putting his hands on your stomach as he settles into bed himself.

The next day is his first true day off in months, with no obligations for practice or other team activities. It's as good a day as you can get, you think. You get up well before him, pulling the box out of the closet and setting it up on the dining table. The sight of it makes you nervous but excited, knowing that today's the day he'll finally know. You've built it up so much in your head, you can only hope it goes as well as you've imagined it would.

You're at the stove cooking breakfast when you hear his footsteps come down the stairs. "Good mo- what's that on the table?" he interrupts himself, rubbing his eyes to make sure it isn't his sleep-ridden eyes playing tricks on him.

"It's for after breakfast. I've been working on a magic trick I need your help with," you smile at him before turning back to the stove. As he gets to the table, he tries to peek inside the box but gets caught before he can even grab the side of it. You point to his seat at the kitchen island, silently instructing him to take a seat.

Throughout breakfast, you try to make conversation with Jack about anything and everything, but both of you are too distracted by the box on the table to hold any topic for long. He knows the setup looks familiar, but can't quite figure out why you would be replicating his All-Star stage on a smaller scale. And as soon as your plates are in the sink, Jack heads straight for the table, hoping you'll forgo doing the dishes in order to show him this magic trick. As much as you wanted to give yourself the extra few minutes to mentally prepare yourself, you couldn't make him wait any longer so you joined him at the table.

The box in question is actually two boxes: one on the bottom that serves as the "platform" for the top box that unbeknownst to Jack is able to be opened by removing the lid and box on top, and the box on top which is taller and skinnier, with one side cut to open like a door. Both boxes were painted black and assembled to look similar to the one from his All-Star stage, but on a smaller scale just large enough to hold a couple of kid's hockey gloves and a mini-stick.

"So for this trick, I tried to draw inspiration from your breakaway in Vegas," you begin to explain, hoping to cover any questions he might have as you go along. "It felt like the best fit for the trick I was trying to accomplish. Plus, when you were telling me about that experience, you mentioned something you wished was different that stuck with me. So with this, I'm hoping I can help fulfill that desire at least a little bit."

Jack can only nod, too intrigued to offer a verbal response.

"Now, if you'll come here," you position Jack in front of the opening side of the box, "we can get started." From beside the table, you pick up a bag and hand it to Jack. "If you could put these things into the box one at a time, please."

As Jack is pulling out the items from the bag, he recognizes them as the same ingredients he used in his magic trick; so into the box go: one glove, two gloves, a youth 86 Hughes jersey, and a mini-stick. Something about reliving his All-Star experience combined with his amusement of your magic trick causes an impenetrable smile to grow on his face. As confused as he was by the point of this, he was enjoying the playfulness of this moment.

"Now if you could please, close that door as best as you can and gently spin everything until it's back to facing you." He does as you ask, slowly and gently spinning the unit until the door is back to its original position. "And if you tap on the door..." he does so as you're dictating, "...and then open the bottom box, you'll see what you created."

You clasp your hands together, them growing clammy as your anxiety skyrockets. Jack finds the lid and lifts everything off of the bottom box to find...

A tiny pair of gloves

A tiny pair of skates

A mini-stick

An 86 jersey with the name listed as "Daddy"

And a positive pregnancy test

He just stares at the contents of the box for what feels like ages, your fear and anxiety growing with every second without a reaction. You're about to step away to catch your breath, anticipating nothing but the worst when his head snaps up to look at you, tears welling up in his eyes and a smile threatening to break its way out onto his face. Jack tries to blink away the tears, but not without a couple escaping and rolling down his cheeks. His hands are shaking as he finally sets down the rest of the box setup before reaching out and pulling you into a hug that you could only describe as expressing every emotion Jack is feeling at this moment.

When he finally lets go and pulls away from you, the smile on his face is spread from ear to ear and a few more tears had made their way down his face.

"It's true? Like... it's really true?" he asks hesitantly, afraid that this might be a prank.

With how overwhelmed you have become over how positive of a reaction he had, all you can manage is a smile and excited nod as tears begin running down your cheeks as well.

Jack picks you up and twirls you around in a tight embrace, his giggling washing a wave of relief over you at the same time. Upon putting you down, he peppers your face with kisses. “I love you so much.” “I love you too, so much.” “I can’t believe this is really happening.” “Me, either. But I’m so happy to be doing this with you,” you confide in him, wiping away another tear rolling down his cheek.

You hold each other in a tight embrace for as long as you two are able to stand, expressing feelings that words can’t quite capture. And once you pull away from each other, his first instinct is to do what it seems like every newly-expectant dad does: drop to his knees and talk to your belly, even though he knows what’s in there can’t hear him yet.

“Hey there, little guy. It’s me, your dad. I know you can’t hear me yet, but you’ll get to know my voice soon enough. Your mom and I love you so much already and can’t wait until you’re here with us.”

And you know that today was the day his priorities changed in an instant, and that you had nothing to worry about to begin with.

[queenshelby]

Under His Eye (Part Four)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader

Words: 2,891

Warning: Angst, Violence, Fertility Issues, Smut, Lack of Consent

Just over two weeks had passed and your bruises were finally healing, turning yellow and starting to disappear.

She had hit you hard, several times, across your face and you fell to the ground, hurting your knees and arms. You were stronger than her, but you couldn’t fight back. You knew it would have made matters worse if you did and, if things weren’t already bad enough, over the past two weeks, the commander’s crazy wife began to force the fertility drugs down your throat.

She wanted a child at all costs and, with her husband having been away, she was unbearable. She kept you locked up in your room until the night of the next ceremony and you felt like prisoner or some kind of breeding stock who was nothing but a piece of meat.

Of course, you had some books to keep yourself occupied with. Tommy made sure of that and, when everyone was asleep, you sneaked into his office and worked on your secret mission, on your own, while Tommy was away on business.

Grace Shelby was lucky that the commander was away, you thought. You knew that he would have set her straight for treating you like this but, then again, it was probably better that he didn’t. You didn’t want him to raise any suspicions and you certainly didn’t want his anger towards her give away your relationship.

***

On the night of the next ceremony, after you hadn’t seen the commander for two weeks and despite your secret interactions with him in the past, you were still playing shy when you were around the commander’s wife. You submitted to her wishes as you knew that it was essential for your survival and you knew that you needed to be careful around her.

Even during the ceremony, you had to keep a low profile which, clearly, was difficult not only for you but also for Tommy. You hadn’t been with each other for two weeks and were longing for one another.

You enjoyed being with him and, when he saw you that day for the first time in two weeks, a small smile escaped him.

“You look beautiful” he whispered to you in passing several hours before the ceremony as you helped the other maids to prepare the house for a function much later that evening.

All of the commanders were said to be there and the only reason it didn’t start until 8 o’clock was because you were at the start of your fertile window which took priority.

The ceremony had to be conducted beforehand. Grace Shelby insisted on it.

Since you had only been at the Shelby household for a little less than two months, this was going to be your first ceremony after you had entered a secret relationship with Tommy and you knew that it was going to be awkward and somewhat difficult. But just how difficult it was going to be, you had no idea about.

***

It wasn’t until quarter past seven that you were called into the Shelby bedroom, which is where Grace Shelby was already waiting for you.

As had been common practice, you sat down on the bed in front of her, facing into the opposite direction and it was at about twenty past seven that the commander entered the bedroom.

You bit your lips as you saw him approach you and he couldn’t help but smile almost cheekily when his eyes met yours.

“We don’t have much time, so please get to it Thomas” Grace said sternly while looking at the clock and Tommy couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Love, I haven’t had sex for two weeks so, trust me when I say that it won’t take long tonight” he joked and you couldn’t help but chuckle, earning you a quick ‘shh’ from the mistress.

‘I want you to turn around and face me Y/N” Grace then ordered you and you weren’t sure what to say to her request. It was an unusual request and, it most certainly wasn’t permissible by law. By law, you were meant to lie on your back for the ceremony, facing the commander while resting your head on the mistress’s lap or gown.

“Grace, this is not how it is done. You know the rules” the commander argued, feeling uncomfortable about you being put into this position and desiring to see your beautiful face after two weeks of abstinence.

“And since when do you play by the rules Thomas?” Grace asked harshly before shouting at you again.

“Now turn around and look at me. I don’t want you to lay eyes on my husband. Do you understand?” she said again and Tommy argued with her once more.

“Grace, that’s enough…” he began to say but, since you didn’t want her to become suspicious, you interrupted their arguing.

“It’s fine commander. I will turn around. I don’t mind” you said as you got off from your seat which was on the edge of the bed and turned around to face the mistress.

You could hear Tommy sigh from behind you and, just after he did, his wife pulled you towards her, onto all fours, and secured your hands.

‘She is ready. Let’s get this over and done with’ Grace said and, after another deep and reluctant sigh, Tommy took hold of you by your hips and pulled, bringing you closer to the edge of the bed.

‘Thomas, please’ Grace then said again as he continued to hesitate and, after collecting his thoughts, he finally complied with her request.

A flip of his hand had your dress piled up around your waist, exposing your ass to the cooler air of the room. The only layer between you and the commander was your undergarments, and he tugged those down in a single motion, leaving you bare to him.

You looked back over your shoulder, and weren’t surprised when Grace yelled at you again.

“Look at me, not him” she spat while almost crushing your hands with hers.

“Yes Mrs Shelby” you confirmed, trying to ignore the pain that she was inflicting, and, just as you spoke, you could hear the buckle of Tommy’s belt, immediately followed by the zipper of his pants.

He pushed his clothes down quickly, seeing that his wife was becoming impatient and his erection pointed proudly into the air, swaying slightly as he inched towards you.

He took hold of his cock with one hand, the other moving to your pussy and opening you up for his intrusion. A moment later you felt the head of it against your sensitive flesh and, without words, he shifted, sliding the tip against your lips.

He slid against the soft skin there, passing back and forth. You felt shivers go up your spine, partly from the sensations and partly from the anticipation. It felt nice, but you knew that what came next was even nicer. You just had to try not to show your enjoyment to his wife, who you were still facing.

“Thomas, please hurry this along. We have guests arriving in half an hour” Grace reminded him and, with that, Tommy stopped at your slick entrance and started pressing forward. Your body yielded before the commander, accompanied by the familiar sting as your pussy opened for him.

There was no foreplay and the pain Grace Shelby inflicted on your wrists was almost unbearable. For this reason, you weren’t wet, causing Tommy’s mission to be more difficult than usual. The mistresses’ presence took away your sense of arousal, the arousal which would usually come naturally when you were alone with the commander.

Tommy paused when he noticed your discomfort. He was not even an inch in, and let you recover.

“Grace, pass me the bottle please” Tommy said eventually, pointing to the lubricant on the bedside table. Clearly, he didn’t want to hurt you.

“No Thomas. She will have to deal with the pain. Lubricant can interfere with the sperm’s ability to fertilise the egg and we don’t want that, do we?” Grace said harshly and Tommy began to argue with her again.

As usual, you were quick to interrupt. This situation was awkward and uncomfortable and you wanted it to be over quickly.

“It’s fine commander…I am fine” you reassured him and, with that, Tommy was pressing forward again, moving with glacial deliberation.

You could acutely feel your pussy spreading as his shaft pressed deeper and deeper. The feeling was one of pleasure mixed with pain as he pushed into you, but you managed to bite down on the groan that tried to slip out of your lips. It was one of discomfort, pain and arousal.

Tommy then paused again before giving one last, small thrust of his hips. He slid all the way into you, until the curly hair on his pelvis was pressed against your ass and his cock was fully nestled inside of you. You sighed in contentment, as did the commander.

Tommy’s hands traced the curves of your posterior. He gently squeezed one cheek before tracing the curving line up to your hips and waist until his wife began to notice.

“Thomas, concentrate!” she spat and his hands settled on the swell of your hips, holding you steady as he shifted his hips back. The tip of his shaft dragged along your slick, tight walls, leaving a wake of pleasant tingles. Then he thrust forward, still moving slowly and deliberately. you sighed as you felt him slide back into you again.

“I am Grace, fuck!” he said as he shifted his hands slightly, getting a better grip on you, then pulled back and thrust again. He still moved slowly, but now it was long smooth motions instead of the erratic movements.

Eventually, Tommy closed his eyes and pulled back and left a feeling of emptiness, a vacuum waiting to be filled - and then he pushed back into you and filled it.

He found a rhythm, not too slow and not too fast, just steady deep thrusts. You felt your body adapting to his rhythm, starting to move with him of its own accord. You pushed your hips back with each of his thrusts, bringing him in deeper and harder until Grace pulled you away, ensuring that you wouldn’t gain pleasure from this.

“Hold still!” she spat just as, secretly, one of Tommy’s hands shifted again, sliding around your waist until it was on your stomach. Then he traced a single digit in a straight line down your stomach and past your freshly trimmed pubes. you sighed in appreciation as his finger found its way to the site of your connection. He brushed his finger over your sensitive nub at the same time as he thrust his cock into you, and you couldn't suppress a shudder and a sigh of appreciation.

Without his wife noticing, Tommy’s finger traced around your clit, circling it and leaving trails of tingling pleasure. He kept thrusting, moving just a bit faster now that you were both getting worked up. You could feel your heat and wetness increasing as he stroked you.

This was the most interest he could possibly show in ensuring your pleasure with his wife present and Tommy soon found a new rhythm, with both his hips and his finger.

When you opened your eyes momentarily, you had to hold back your moans and, when you saw Grace Shelby’s face, you enjoyed the look of annoyance on it. Clearly, she could tell that her husband was enjoying this as he was pumping harder and faster, enough to make your body shake and your breasts bounce with each thrust.

“Oh god” you moaned involuntarily, causing Tommy to chuckle briefly and his wife to pull back your hair.

“Quiet! You aren’t here for your pleasure. You are here to give us a child” she spat before covering your mouth with her hand and holding you in place.

His finger was moving faster too, but he managed not to press down too roughly. You heard another moan of pleasure, and realised it had come out of your own throat. Your mouth was covered with Grace’s hand and you hadn't even realised that you were starting to get loud, and clenched your mouth to keep the noise to a minimum.

Tingles radiated from your clit with each stroke of Tommy’s finger, and from the depths of your vagina with each deep thrust. The sensations met and raced up your spine, leaving you panting. you were already getting close.

The commander was thrusting faster, his cock pumping in and out of your slick passage. Each motion was deep and long, stimulating you from your entrance to your deepest point. His fingers kept up their movements over your clit, and as he thrust into you again you felt yourself teeter over the edge.

You dropped your head down against Grace’s dress involuntarily and muffled a loud moan into her hand. A wall of tingling pleasure exploded from your core and raced outwards, and all of your muscles clamped up as your orgasm overtook you. Your whole body shuddered as pleasure ran up your spine and down your limbs. you stopped being able to meet Tommy’s thrusts with your own, but he just kept pounding.

You could distantly hear him grunting, probably in pleasure at the feeling of your body clamping down around his cock, but it may as well have been a thousand miles away. You were totally lost in the feeling of bliss.

You shook and trembled, and you thought that the commander’s hands holding your waist were the only thing keeping you from collapsing entirely.

You passed the crest of your pleasure, coming down from the high and returning to your body. You became more fully aware of the feeling of Tommy’s hands digging into your hips just a bit too hard. His breathing was a bit too fast, thrusts even faster than that.

His pelvis slapped against your ass again, again, again and, then, with a loud groan, he was grinding himself against you, holding himself there. His cock twitched, and you could feel the muscle pulsating both inside of you and against core.

Finally, a sudden burst of heat came as he ground the tip of his cock as deep in you as it would go. He groaned loudly as he shot his first salvo of cum, spraying the entrance that separated him from your womb.

You sighed, your voice still muffled by the palm of Grace’s hand. This moment, right there, it was your very favourite feeling in the world. He twitched and pressed himself harder against you, as if trying to go deeper. A gush of that sweet heat spread within you as a second burst of cum poured into you. Your hips were higher than your head, and it felt like your whole body was perfectly lined up to receive his seed. You could feel the heat of his semen spreading into you, like it would permeate your whole body.

“Are we done?” Grace eventually asked impatiently as Tommy had clearly finished now, but kept thrusting for another few moments as your orgasm made you shudder before him.

“Almost Grace…almost!” Tommy said with content as his cum-slicked cock rocked in and out of your clenched body as you came down from you own high. He wanted to feel you a little while longer but, eventually, he had to stop moving, his cock still wedged in your drenched hole.

"Thomas!” she said more sternly now and, with that, he pulled back, his member sliding out of you with a wet sound.

“Turn around now, pull up your underwear and rest” Grace instructed and you quickly dropped to the bed with deep sigh while feeling Tommy’s seed running down your inner thighs as you did.

There was a lot of cum and, without thinking, you pulled up your cotton panties and trapped it inside of you.

Just as you turned around and watched the commander close up his pants. Grace Shelby reached for one of the pillows, and slid it under your ass to elevate your pussy full of her husband’s cum, to keep every last royal drop of it inside.

“I want you to lie her for twenty minutes and don’t get any stupid ideas, do you understand?” the mistress then spat before getting herself ready for the function for which guests were now slowly starting to arrive.

“Yes Mrs Shelby” you said as you laid there, on the plush bedding, ass raised to keep the commander’s sperm in you waiting body.

“Good. I will put on an alarm for you and, when it goes off, I need you to come downstairs and help with serving drinks to the commanders” she the instructed and you nodded yet another yes.

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[touyasdoll]

Aizawa x Reader, a gift. — ℊ

You sobbed out as you came again, one orgasm right after the other due to your Master giving your tail a harsh yank right near the base as soon as he felt you reach a crescendo the first time cuming. This was the first time you were having sex with him and you knew you were done for. Sometimes, you were certain your Master had a cat quirk, too. Just a more passive one, at least until today when he had come up behind you, pinned you to the couch and bit the back of your neck until you slumped in submission.

Not that he had had to wait very long for you to submits only fighting back from the surprise of the action. You had learned early on that you weren’t one to take the reigns in the bedroom. You were so far from being a dominant person that you had begun to question yourself. It took two relationships fizzling out at your “lack of passion”, as one called it, and an accidental crashing of a fellow heroine’s “dungeon party” to figure it out.

But you did get it figured it out, all with your fellow heroines help. She had helpfully guided you as your first dom, taken you on herself that very night and the next few weeks as well, teaching you as much as having you experiment. She had laughed when you had told her about the passion comment in the aftermath of a session — mainly because she had just gotten through with having you on your hands and knees, begging to taste her, then begging to be used and taken before sucking off her strap on and being bent over a desk where she did indeed take. You had pouted in embarrassment at her reaction, so once more she took you over the desk that night, going farther than before with a wicked smirk as she made you yowl, dissolving into begging to cum again between absolutely filthy promises to all she asked, all just to prove that “a lack of passion” was most certainly the not in any way true. Your former partners just hadn’t known how to be what you needed. And that was fine. You just had to find what you needed in someone you clicked with — after you fulfilled your promises to her. You were going to be sore for months, you had thought, but found yourself enjoying every moment of sinfully wonderful pleasure as you soaked up all she diligently taught you.

Which is when she introduced you to Aizawa Shouta, aka the underground hero Eraserhead, a friend of hers from their school days. You both had moved slowly, learning about one another before today had come.

He had asked you to sit down and then silently brought out an elegant tray with a collar, a beautiful amethyst one that matched your eyes, with a matching lead (that was unattached for now, not even out of its delicately showcased packaging) and set of accessories. There were silk blindfolds, cuffs and ties, three stud and three hooped piercings, a beautiful clit clip that was evidentially expensive by appearance alone, several matching clamps, a y-shaped chain to connect them, an anal plug trainer set, a vibrator, a gag and several other items all complimentary in colour and design to the collar and lead. Your eyes roamed over everything carefully, recognizing pieces from your training that made you gulp, mouth going dry as you couldn’t help but image him putting them on you, using them on you. You squirmed in your seat, rubbing your thighs together before a sharp word has you stilling, your attention back on your boyfriend.

Shouta then carefully and completely set up terms and rules to follow, going as far as to set up three different safe words of your choice. He looked at you as if you were a gift waiting to be opened as you went through the discussion with your well being as the topic. When the collar went on, so too did he become Master. What he said was to be followed. You gave a small whine, already feeling yourself slip a bit. You wanted to be his, you needed to be his and this was taking too slow!

He obviously could tell as he let out an irritated sigh and quickly pinned you to the couch on your stomach. Your hands were held tightly behind your back and a knee was settled between your legs, making it so you couldn’t escape back or forward so long as he held you tight. His mouth was right behind your ear as he firmly commanded you to be still. Your heart dove into your stomach and bounced right back out as he repeated himself before making sure you understood by repeating him.

As soon as you replied with your knowledge of what he said and consent he bit the back of your neck. Just which one of you had the cat quirk again?

Your answer came in the form of a nip to your ear that causes both to flatten to your head in reflex. You had zoned out and your Master looked amused.

“Still with me, Kitten?”, he asked, a hand moving through your hair, causing you to purr loudly.

You gave a soft mewl at the affection in his tone and nodded, leaning further into his hand at your hair, noting the other was massaging your breast, giving gentle squeezes and then tugging lightly at your nipples sending a shiver down your spine. If he kept that up….. “Yessir,” you responded, blinking slowly up at him, not quite looking at his eyes.

“Good,”he nodded, letting out an amused huff as your head presses him for more petting. Shouta pressed back, gripping your hair as he leaned down, capturing your mouth in a firm but loving kiss.

As the kiss broke you mewled questioningly, head tilting as much as you could, “Good Kitten?” You hoped you were. He seemed pleased, but you had to ask to be sure. You didn’t want to disappoint your new Master, not now, not ever. You had already started off distracted, but he seemed to let that pass.

Shouta chuckled, a wicked hint to it, and you felt his clever fingers tweak your nipples eliciting a moan before both hands traveled down your body.

“Excellent Kitten,” he replied, one hand slipping to press against and squeeze your ass, bringing your body even closer to him. The other slipped around to between the both of you and honed in on your clit, rubbing it in even measure. “My Kitten.”

“Oh!” You let out a sound of surprise as you began to squirm as he began to play your body, the first round and break done with the second beginning. “All yours! All for Master! Master’s Kitten, Master’s pet, Master’s, Master’s!”

The words played out like a chant as the hand on your rear moved to cup your hip and readjust your body to fit his. You’re core was matched with his cock and took just one smooth thrust before it slipped into your pussy, bottoming out. You gasped in surprise again before moaning loudly. “Master….!”

“Yessss,” he grunted in pleasure, thrusting his hips forward with a sharp snap to bury himself almost far more impossibly deeper. “Fits perfectly, Kitten. Your used little pussy, opening up and swallowing me right up, Pet! My Kitten’s tight little pussy, taking me so perfectly! Knows who it belongs to! Going to make it so it’ll fit me and only me, Kitten. So you’ll only get wet for me, can only be filled up right by me, can only cum for me. Only for your Master, who you only belong to, isn’t that right?”

“Only for Master, only Master’s.” You nodded quickly, beginning to babble as you repeated his words to show you understood. You wore his collar. You were his Kitten, his pet and only his. You followed his words and your body would only be filled up right by him. By your Master. “Master’s pussy, Master’s pussycat! So good for Master! Only Master, only Master’s pussy, only fit, only wet for him, only Masters Please! Please please please! Master! Oh!”

With each deep, slow thrust Shouta gave you, you promised, you begged. And he smirked smugly with a touch of sadistic. He’d keep you begging for a few more minutes. See if he could bring out some more promises, maybe get you to agree to those piercings — he had the tools for it. You would look so good laying on the table, trying to stay still like he would order, only to fail and have to be tied up. He’d then pierce you, listening to your restrained whimpers as he took care to fasten and clean you up, admiring the gorgeous sight of you with them, then reminding you with a sadistic smirk that you couldn’t have your tight, sweet little pussy used up any until it healed. Same with your sweet nipples, just to be safe, of course. You wouldn’t be allowed to touch yourself, either.

You would whine and whimper, wanting to be filled with your Master’s cock and that’s when he’d bring out the set of training plugs. You’d be so eager, needing to be filled now that you found out you couldn’t. He’d prepare you maddeningly slow, letting you squirm some more on his fingers, but giving your ass a firm warning smack when you wouldn’t settle. Shouta could picture it perfectly, accurately too as you would indeed react true to his predictions, even going further to his surprise. Just because you couldn’t use your pussy didn’t mean you couldn’t use your mouth, too.

And he’d soon learn how addicting your mouth would be. How much he’d come to love watching you be spit roasted between him and your toys, maybe even just between your toys, practically choking on a dildo, drooling around the thick and textured replica like a slutty little kitty as a large vibrator made your tail stand straight up as it pushed into you from behind, slowly and then with a last harsh thrust to bury itself inside that would have you yowling? What of two sex machines, perhaps? Or maybe three, with you tied in his scarf, wrists bound up as you bent forward on your knees, a spreader bar locking your legs wide open as one machine thrust into your delicious pussy, another your ass and the final one into your mouth, slick and drool making for lewd squelching sounds with every movement as he sat back and jerked off to the amazing scene before him again and again? Maybe he’d even tape it. He’s sure Nemuri would appreciate it, as a gift.

Maybe he’s even allow another person to help spir roast you, if there was anyone else worthy of being able to use what belongs to him, that is. Worthy of his perfect pet’s beautiful holes, excellent body. Just perfect, just right, just his.

Shouta’s pet, his obedient little Kitten.

—

Deepest apologies that this is so messy, but I was in a hurry to share while I have so many things to do. I’m thrilled you want to continue up the last bits I have left you and I cannot wait to read it. Have a lovely week!

ℊ

Thank you for the wonderful meal, g 😩😩

Aizawa simps, come & eatttt 💕

[astaroth1357]

How the Brothers were Growing Up

Sorry, still finishing up the next request. I just had this idea wandering around Lowes because I got distracted by some orchids and somehow managed to lose track of my family... I'm a grown ass woman, so I texted them but still. Maybe I've actually been a five year-old piloting an adult body this whole time… 

Lucifer 

Child? What child? All I see is a miniature adult.

Well, that's not completely accurate. He had a perfectly normal childhood, all things considered. Michael and Raphael more or less took the helm of raising him with Michael acting as the doting parent and Raphael the more strict one to balance things out.

Since there weren’t any children to play with at the time, Lucifer made it a habit of imitating the older angels - that way he could feel included too. 

He was pretty much that little kid who walked around in his father's ties and pretended to have meetings so he could "play" with the grownups...

He always kind of knew that he didn't fit in with the other angels when he was young and he still remembered that left out feeling, so he had a habit of checking on other “misfit” angels even after becoming an fully accepted adult.

Mammon

Problem child. Plain and simple.

He came up at a time where Lucifer was too old and busy to play with him and this poor baby just wanted attention…

He'd break rules, push buttons, and generally just act out in ways that weren't "angelic” for a long time. It caused a lot of problems, but Lucifer - still pretty young himself - always had a small soft spot for his antics (I mean, who wouldn’t laugh after he replaced Raphael's spear with a teddy bear on a broomstick?)

Mammon never exactly rebelled, though. He'd just push the envelope a lot in order to get noticed which, unfortunately, only got more and more problematic as he grew older...

Lucifer was one of the few people to ever reach out to him and see his potential as an angel, which is why he chose him to be his closest assistant. This helped Mammon straighten out some… but not entirely. This is still Mammon we're talking about here.

Levi

Shy baby boi… but with a good head on his shoulders.

Levi was one of those quiet kids who’s too shy to actually interact with people unless they initiated the conversation, which made him feel extra left out from the others…

Thankfully, since Mammon and Levi were young around the same time the two ended up being partners-in-crime for a while. If there was mischief to be had, they were probably behind it with Mammon spearheading the ideas and Levi making sure that they’d work.

After Mammon started getting his act together, that left Levi feeling left out of something again and he eventually developed several insecurities as a result…

Lucifer was the one to actually notice that Levi had a good mind for strategy - having devised a lot of he and Mammon's pranks in the past - and recommended him as an Archangel, finally giving Levi a place to "belong" (until the war ended anyway.)

Satan

A literal hellspawn.

Pretty much just the worst for the longest time. Temperamental, violent, and destructive on good days, downright homicidal on bad.

Babysitting Satan was less about making sure he didn't hurt himself and more about making sure he didn't hurt anyone else...

He eventually started leveling out after his brain began developing better reasoning skills. Everybody had a fucking celebration the first time he got through a full dinner without attempting to stab a waitress! Lucifer almost cried, it was a joyous day...

Lucifer mostly took on the job of raising Satan, but because he had become even more distant to everyone after the Fall (and he was never particularly warm to start with) it may have left a few... lingering problems for Satan growing up.

Asmo

The "Pay Attention to Me! Pay Attention to Me!!" kid.

There was another lull after Levi was created, which left another angel with no one to play with… but Asmo would not be ignored.

He hung off of everybody's heels, acting cute and "helping" with things in his own way - if the older angels look stressed, he'd go pick them flowers. That sort of thing.

Took "youngest child" privileges to a whole new level. He could practically get away with anything until the twins came around by just flashing his big, amber eyes and a few tears. Even Raphael had a hard time telling him no, something the man would later come to regret...

Asmo didn't exactly change his bad habits much, even after the twins were made, so he'd get reprimanded by the others pretty often. Lucifer was usually the only one who'd ever cover for him (and even then not without a lecture) so Asmo would always try his best to return the favor.

Beel

You know those big, happy puppies who just don't know their own strength…?

Beel's frame sort of outpaced his age. He grew up big and fast compared to everyone else. By the time he started puberty he was only a head shorter than Lucifer and he had fully surpassed his brother not a few months later!

Naturally, this left Beel with a lot of awkward coordination and strength problems through much of his life… Anytime he got a handle on his own body, it'd grow an inch taller or get even stronger seemingly overnight…

Though he was sweet, he’d always end up breaking things on accident and most angels couldn't help but see him as a sort of brutish, hulking giant as a result...

Though Beel was never really "alone" like any of the others thanks to Belphie, his lack of self-coordination and constant slip ups made the older angels look down on him… Expect for Lucifer, who actually took the time to encourage Beel's strengths over berating his faults. Their relationship remained strong ever since.

Belphie 

That kid you'd lose in the park because he got distracted by a pretty flower, didn't remember to keep walking beside you, then just wandered off to the swing set because he felt like it.

Belphie marched to the beat of his own drum. He wouldn’t be rushed, he wouldn’t be swayed, and he might have listened to someone… but only if he wanted to.

Dealing with Belphie was maddening for anyone not named Beel because he'd do what he pleased and was very good at getting away with it. He had a potent combination of wit and Baby Brother Privilege even then.

It didn’t help that Asmo babied Belphie the most and pretty much taught his brother all the ways he'd get away with things back before the twins were made…

In all honesty, Lucifer probably coddled Belphie nearly as much as Asmo. Angel twins are exceedingly rare and Belphie being there at all was literally a miracle. Though he had enough backbone not to let him get away with everything, Belphie always knew "Big Brother Lucifer" would help him out... most of the time...

[themandylion]

There Are Many Advantages

I could hold onto this for a month and use it for JayTim Week. But MerMay is almost over and this is, fundamentally, a product of Tumblr.

Read it on AO3.

—

The thing that got Jason wasn't the uncanny valley near-humanity of the top half, or the row upon row of terrifyingly sharp teeth, or even the solid grasp of the English language. No, all of that kind of took a back seat to the creature's skin.

"It's so smooth," he marveled, running his hand along the surface first one way, then the other. Logically, it shouldn't surprise him so. The creature—mer—T'm wasn't exactly what one might call 'typical marine life.' It made sense that his body parts didn't follow established 'rules.' But it still threw him a bit.

"Only a little smoother than yours," T'm said, dragging webbed fingers along Jason's bare arm, his slightly clammy touch summoning goosebumps. "Well, than yours was," he amended. "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you bumpy. Is this an allergic reaction?"

"Uh, no. It's just. I." Jason swallowed, trying to organize his thoughts before he blurted out something ridiculous like 'I'm sensitive to being touched by gorgeous men.' T'm wasn't a man, after all—hell, his species might not even have sexes, let alone sexual dimorphism. "See the little hairs growing on my skin? They gather information and send messages to my brain about the world around me. Sometimes the skin around them reacts as well, to help me notice faster. The bumps are an involuntary response to unexpected stimuli, like touch or a change in temperature."

Transparent membranes nictated across one of the mer's eyes, then the other. "Fascinating. Now, explain to me why my skin being smooth is so interesting."

"Well, several of your physiological characteristics are similar to those of sharks—lack of swim bladder, multiple rows of teeth that replace each other over time, cartilaginous skeleton, the fin shape and placement, in particular the heterocercal caudal fin… But sharks have placoid—tooth-like—scales that feel smooth when stroked in one direction, but rough and 'biting' when stroked in the opposite direction," Jason explains, technical terms slipping in even as he tries to keep his explanation simple.

T'm nodded thoughtfully, though that might have been the movement of the water most of his body was still immersed in, only his upper torso propped on the edge of the raft. "My species does share many characteristics with them, I suppose. But recall that we originate from another star system and are thus apart from the evolutionary chains found among Terran species."

"Right! Right. Sorry, still wrapping my head around the idea that an entire society of people live under the waves. Might take me a bit longer to really grasp the alien aspect—we have myths and legends of mers, but none of them include extraterrestrial origins." Well, outside the fringe theories cryptozoologists occasionally floated and only supermarket tabloids were interested in publishing.

"To be fair, we've been on this planet for long enough that we actually lost that part of our history and only recently rediscovered it," T'm consoled him. "I just know a bit more than most because my parents were particularly keen on archeology. As it is, our cultures are more similar to nearby human ones than to anything our ancient spacefaring ancestors might have practiced."

Anthropology was far from Jason's area of study, but he supposed that could be interesting to those who were interested in such things. "Well, that certainly explains your mastery of English."

"Eh, I mostly learned it to follow television shows," T'm admitted, flapping a hand dismissively. "But it's a useful skill and allows me to keep up with scientific advancements, though it was pretty hard to read journals in a marine environment. Electronic publications have been a boon."

"Is terrestrial biology a popular area of study down below?"

"Not really. Land makes up less than forty percent of the planet's surface and even smaller percentage of the living space. I'm considered a bit of an eccentric, but that's something of a family tradition at this point." Gripping the edge of the raft, T'm pulled himself farther onto the deck.

"Uh. You okay there?" Jason gulped, his fight-or-flight response warring with other parts of him that were still all too aware of how attractive he found T'm's more humanoid features.

T'm's pale cheeks were quickly turning a bright blue that perfectly complimented his eyes. A part of Jason wondered if they would radiate heat if he held his hand up to them. He had yet to determine if T’m's species was homeothermic or poikilothermic. "Like I said, I've mostly learned about humanity from television, so I may be reading the situation wrong, but. I, ah. I find our conversations exciting and you and your ideas very interesting and attractive and I swear this isn't because I think you're exotic or that you represent an opportunity for me advance the entire field of terrestrial biology or—"

"Me too," Jason blurted out, his own cheeks very definitely betraying his own homeothermic nature. "I mean, I think you're very interesting and attractive also. As a fellow sentient lifeform. Person. You know."

T'm smiled at him and shifted his weight to one hand so he could rest the other on Jason's. "I know this is going to be difficult to work out, but I'd like to at least try?"

Turning his hand over, Jason squeezed the webbed one encouragingly as he returned the smile. "I'd like that too. Though I have no idea how we're going to manage dates when I can't breathe underwater and you don't have any real way of moving on land."

"Ah. I may have a few ideas on that," T'm assured him, eyes sparkling. "There are many advantages to being a terrestrial biologist."

[lilacsandwhiskey]

Traveling long distances just to see them with Drew Starkey from 50 ways

Not A Dream

Pairing: Drew Starkey x reader

Prompt from HERE

Drew had heard those three words one too many times.

“I miss you.”

You laid in bed, head propped on your pillow and the string lights draping your walls being the only proper light. Drew stared at you through the screen, in the bed he’d been laying in for almost a month now, a bed that was many miles from yours.

“I miss you too, baby. So much.” He replied, face squished against his own pillow. He was exhausted but never too exhausted to get in a nightly call with you.

Drew knew you better than anyone, and it didn’t slip by him that your voice was laced with hurt. He knew it because he’d been feeling the same way - his heart just aching at the lack of seeing you, touching you.

When he hung up the phone that night, he made a few quick calls. His goal was to see you sooner than you’d think. The weekend was approaching and with a little bit of begging, he managed to get some time off, a flight booked, and a plan to see you in just a few short days.

——————

Drew couldn’t shove clothes into his bag faster. Unknowing that your boyfriend was coming to see you, you sent a message telling him to have a good day and that you’d talk to him tonight. You would indeed.

Drew made it to the airport in record time, checked in, and sat to wait for his boarding time. He couldn’t help but to look through your social media, where you posted on your story of you walking your dog that morning, getting coffee with your friend (that was picking him up from the airport and had, wink wink, made plans with you).

When the plane landed, Drew couldn’t find his bag soon enough. He was practically running through the airport, managing to dodge people left and right before he saw a recognizable car that belonged to your friend. She stood outside the driver side, waving at Drew and calling for him to get in.

The drive was filled with a quick stop, one where Drew picked up your favorite flowers and snacks. Your friend talked about how much you’d missed him, and how this played out perfect because he had about an hour before you’d be back in your apartment. Drew unlocked the door with his spare, thanking your friend profusely as he closed the door.

He took in everything he’d missed over the month, including the small dog running up to him. Drew took time to smother him with love and kisses before standing up to take his bag to your room. He walked into the bed, made up like you loved, everything perfectly in its own place. The picture next to your bedside table of the two of you from a camping trip, one of your favorite pictures.

He smiled at the memory, heart swelling at the fact he’d be seeing you soon. The apartment had so many traces of the two of you, though Drew hadn’t actually moved in, but he might as well had. When he was in town, he managed to spend any time he could with you.

The hour seemed slower than ever as he turned on the television, trying to keep his mind occupied, which failed as he checked his phone several times for the time.

You patted up the steps to your apartment, a sigh escaping from your lips from the long day behind you. You walked towards your door, pulling your keys out of your bag. You started to unlock the door when you noticed something - the television was on. You were sure you hadn’t left it on.

Your mind was racing, sick to your stomach with the fact that someone could’ve broken - but why would they be watching television? You prepared your pepper spray just in case, slowly turning the knob and peeking in. Expecting to meet death, you were met with the complete opposite.

There standing in between your kitchen and living room, holding a bouquet of roses and a priceless smile was Drew. Your heart was pounding out of your chest, finally seeing the boy you love so much after an entire month.

You dropped your bags to the floor, running towards Drew. He was quick to sweep you up, careful to hold the flowers out as he spun your around with your legs around his waist. “Am I dreaming? Please tell me I’m not dreaming.” You whisper, eyes filled with tears. “It’s not a dream, sweetheart.” He mumbles in your hair, nuzzling into your neck to absorb every sweet thing about you he’s missed. “Not a dream.”

[sweettodo]

best friends dad.

levi ackerman x freader.

includes : dub con - [ age gap ] , smut, swearing, daddy kink, squirting. pretty much porn with no plot.

wc : 2,7k

a/n, thank you for 600 followers !!! <33 i love every single one of you.

••

She's your best friend, your closest ally, your soul sister.

She has been there with you through thick and thin, since youth, you two took showers together as children, ate off the same plate, went on countless vacations, share the same clothes. What would your life be without her?

Your behavior prevails to be horrendous.

It catches you when you're alone, or when there's nothing to distract you. Creeping up, lingering around your soul- guilt- quite the foe.

You lay on your bed, shame depleting you the more you remained in silence, left alone with your thoughts. Staring at the soft white ceiling, the sun scarcely pouring through the cracks of the shades, rendering it impossible to fall back asleep.

It was eating you alive, it was driving you nuts, you were so selfish. It was too late to go back on this.

And this isn't even the worst part of it all...

Your fathers are best friends, also close since childhood. Being neighbors, your mothers were close too, you all were practically family.

Hence, it boils down to one thing- one simple, and easy question.

That being, why was your 'second father' mere inches away from you, naked, barely covered by a sheet, and sleeping in your bed?

Yet, as disgusted as you are with yourself, you're turning to face the sleeping man, placing a small kiss below his ear, his arms instantaneously fastening around your frame, pulling you closer to his body, he loves when you wake him up like this, you're both accustomed to this routine.

After all, you did sleep in the same bed more often than you'd like the admit.

Living alone in your apartment made it easier for the both of you to be with each other, though your best friend resided here, she was at college, living in a dorm out of state for extended periods.

He told his wife and other children the ridiculous excuse, 'I'll be back in a week or so, on business' and he'd come straight to you. Always. With take-out dinner, a duffle over his shoulder, and a plethora of condoms in his pocket.

Call it disturbing, but it's almost perverse to give his wife kudos, 'no wonder you tied the knot.' because shit, you wish you could.

No one knows about the infidelity, so it was fun to sneak around; since becoming an adult, that's when family dinners with the neighbors took a turn, your body filled with a mix of excitement and angst almost every Friday.

He always sits next to you, to your right, hand secretly placed on your thigh under the tablecloth. He finds himself unable to resist your body.

The second you turned eighteen he was ready to pounce, he couldn't take his eyes off you.

He's so good at what he does, he knows how to sneak around, he always plays his cards right, he knew you couldn't resist the temptation; the temptation of your best friend's father.

•

How it started was almost too cliché.

•

"Hey, is y/f/n home? We're supposed to be getting ready to go out, she's not answering my texts."

"She's not home, likely caught up at work."

You nod, "how about you come in and wait?" he allows you in, "what's the occasion?" he laughs, plopping down on the couch, you sit on the other side, placing your dress, makeup bag, and shoes on the floor beside your feet.

"A friend's birthday dinner, she just turned eighteen." He smiles, looking back at the television, "she's always making us late." You chuckle, your phone going off at the same time, Levi watching your thumbs frantically respond to the disappointing message.

"She won't be off for another few hours." Levi sighs, "I'll just hang out in her room until then."

"You can stay down here, you're not in my way." He quickly replies, you accept his offer and slip off your shoes.

"How's your mom?" he changes the topic, standing and walking out of the room towards the direction of the kitchen, "and your dad."

"Both good, how about you and-"

"Good." he interrupts, returning with a glass in his hands, likely a glass of whiskey, that was his go-to.

Oddly enough, you felt unsettled being alone with him, something inside of you remained nervous, but not necessarily a bad sentiment.

You didn't spend much time with Levi alone, most of the time it was with your father and y/f/n, so you sat quietly, both watching the screen mounted on the wall in front of you.

Little did you know, he was feeling the same way, awkward and nervy.

"Do you need to get ready at any particular time?" he cuts the silence.

"Uhm, I didn't expect to wait, because I have to shower."

He hums in agreement, "you can shower here if you want." You didn't even bat an eye, standing and saying 'okay', trotting upstairs towards your best friend's room, dropping all your belongings on the floor.

Leaving the room, you're opening the linen closet to retrieve a towel and head straight for the bathroom.

This was your second home, why leave the bathroom door locked while you showered?

His leg tapped in anticipation, he knew now was such a perfect time, he had to do something about how he was feeling.

Levi told himself that this feeling would pass, he was disgusted in himself.

The first time he found himself with his hand wrapped around his cock, making himself cum to the thought of his daughter's best friend.

He had never thought about you sexually, it was almost like a switch was flipped when you came home, stumbling drunk with his daughter the night of your birthday to avoid your own parents, you were now an adult, and that's when things changed.

He thought about you in so many twisted ways, and the fetish only grew- it grew day by day, month by month.

Now, you were only a few months shy of nineteen, in college, in your own living space, independent, he loved it; and every day, he prayed to God he'd stop feeling so guilty about his vices.

But he was trapped, stewing on his thoughts before he went to bed at night, on the way to work, waking up in the morning- he only thought about you. He needed to do something.

He found his feet quickly moving up the stairs, entering his bedroom, and pacing, this was sure as hell a tough dilemma, but he knew he could get you to see it too.

"Levi, I- uh, need some help."

Like it was a blessing, a foot in the door, he's now knocking before you allow him in, you stand there only in a towel, hair wet and your body dripping with water, "the thing won't turn off, I'm sorry."

He could barely swallow, "I'll fix it."

The hot steam made him overwhelmed, the fresh smell of the strawberry-scented body wash that you had after your shower was sending him into a frenzy.

You stood there, watching him turn the hot water off, you acknowledged how close you were to him, naked except for the towel, he was so close to your legs, your wet body.

He stood straight after fixing the faucet, wiping his hands on his shirt, "thanks."

You step around him, down the hall, and towards your friend's room, "y/n," turning, Levi's there, in the hallway, a few feet behind you, "I need to talk to you."

He knew now was the only time he could fix this disgusting fixation he has on you.

You pursued him, you followed him straight to his bedroom, you allowed him to close the door behind you; you felt his hands grab your own, pinning them above your head against the wall.

You allowed him to kiss you, you kissed him back, and you savored the taste of him. It was almost like you didn't allow your mind to register what you were doing.

"I've been meaning to do this." He breathes, catching up on his lack of oxygen.

You didn't say anything, your towel was coming loose, his free hand encircling around the small of your back, pulling you against him, "Levi." You uttered, his head dips down, kissing your lips as he's whisking you off your feet and onto his shared bed with his wife.

Your legs wrap around his waist, his elbows propped up beside your head, his tongue swiping across your lip, you do the same, what the fuck were you doing?

You pull away from him, "Levi- this is bad." Hand pressing against his shoulder, pushing him off of you gently, "this is so bad."

He moves his hand through his hair, "no one has to know."

"I gotta' go get dressed," yet your legs don't move, "fuck- fuck this is bad, she's gonna hate me."

"No, no she won't," he objects, pushing you onto your back, "you want it, don't you?"

Your stomach was doing backflips, nauseated almost. You saw his tight body, you've always loved it- like a father.

You felt his cock between your legs instants earlier, you didn't comprehend just how willing you were; how wet you were between your legs.

"Let me show you," throwing off his shirt, "don't worry, no ones gonna know,"

He sees the look on your face, stunned.

"Don't you trust me?" your head was spinning.

"I do."

Your head is pushed onto his pillow, making sure he doesn't strip you of your towel just yet.

The feeling of performing something so bad, so disturbing, so sinful, it was driving you nuts, your stomach twisted, filled with butterflies as you saw the man strip in front of you. This was really happening.

"Open."

Your legs open, but you hold your towel down, feeling his eyes bore into you, "you can show me."

His hands open your legs, gasping, he's kissing you again, laying between your legs with just his boxers severing the direct touch.

"God, this fucking body."

The towel slipping down your chest, his hands instantly cupping your tits, the now, cold droplets of water from your shower making your nipples twice as hard, he smiles, "you've always been so beautiful- so innocent too, you know that?" his hands trail down your sides, feeling your flesh in his palms, up to your thighs.

You felt so dirty, you wanted more, you wanted him to touch every inch of your body, you wanted to feel secure and full, "you want me to touch you don't you. You want it?" he sees your pleading eyes, he sees how hungry you looked, he brings his hand to your beck, squeezing your jugular, "say it, use your words.”

“I do, but y/f/n, Levi.” Your words meant one thing, but your actions were proving another. You didn't know how much you needed this- how much you longed to be touched by a man who helped raise you.

It made you sick, but fuck, it felt so good, “you want it, just as I do,” he pulls back, taking his hand and forcing open your mouth, “here.”

He wet his fingers with your saliva, ripping the towel that barely covered your lower half. “Look at how pretty, so wet too.”

You hiss, his finger pressing down against your clit, your thigh spasming from the harsh pressure against your nerves, “I’m gonna make you cum, you want that, right?”

“Yes, please make me cum.” You plead, his thumb still pressing hard against your bud, “f-fuck!” your legs slamming around his arm.

“Open those legs, I didn't say you could close them.” He commands, getting a better look at your pussy, his hand moving down the threads of his boxers with his free hand, cock springing from his constraints.

“Spit.” He steals more alive from your tongue, using it to lubricate his cock; he was thick, girthy with few veins decorating up the bottom to right below the tip. His chest heaving, hands pinning up your thighs, your legs wide open for him to see.

You whined, his throbbing tip teasing you by soaking up your slick, he was so painfully hard- the way he knocked against the tight hole in front of him.

“You want my cock? You want your other daddy to fuck you, huh?” You nod, eyes begging with every ounce of your entity.

You nod desperately, “please- fuck me.”

He obeys, gripping your thighs, pressing them upwards as he’s leaning down towards you, slowly sliding past your entrance.

Splitting you open, immense pressure brings you to screams, your eyes screwed shut as you spit out the man's name.

“Can barely fit- fuck.” His shoulders lax, cock seeping deeper into your pussy.

He pushes back and forth into you, the sound of your pussy juicing around his cock filled the room as you two take in the feeling of each other's touch.

“S’big- so big, Levi.” Your tongue lols out, he takes it as a welcome to capture your lips, sucking on your tongue as you mewl against his mouth.

He pulls away from you, “say my name,” he groans, “say it, what's my name?” his cock filling you so well, you could say many things; tears brimming your eyes as he's stabbing your cervix with his tip.

You wail, gasping for air, “daddy- please harder!”

His hips piston into you, slamming against yours as he's speeding up, cock ramming into you senselessly, harder thrusts when he hears you call him by his name, fucking you stupid.

“Go on and cum all over my cock, you're so close- fuck- you keep squeezing me-” he can barely contain himself.

But he keeps pace, the sweet spot in the depths of your pussy being abused, pussy squelching with every rut of his wide hips.

You're so close, inching closer towards release, a mantra of his name rolling out of your mouth, you feel so full, packed to the fucking brim.

The weight of his body on top of yours, cock reaching impossible lengths inside of you, sweat dripping down his forehead, chest glistening with sweat, “so good, creaming all over my dick, yeah? You love it.” He boasts, you whined, mouth agape.

“So close- daddy- so close.”

“Do it, you're so tight- fuck, can't get over it.”

The coil in your stomach tightening, your body going numb as he rips an incredible orgasm out of your weak body, “that's right, squirt all over my cock, God this pussy s’ fuckin’ amazing.”

He slowed down, bearing his high, watching as your cum drips down your pussy, his thighs and stomach soaked with your essence as it drips down his thighs. Amazed at the sight, he continues to steadily fuck into your convulsing walls, you're body shaking from the debilitating orgasm.

You squeeze your eyes shut, your eyes surrounded by a starry white, wet noises driving Levi closer to climax, the sheets below the both of you soaked, “open those eyes.” He commands.

You open your eyes, legs squeezing tighter around his sides, “you’re gonna swallow my cum, right baby?” he sees you nod your head, needy to taste him down your throat.

He provides you with a few strong thrusts, before slowly pulling out of you, your hand quickly wrapping around the base of his cock, rolling out your tongue like a whore.

You take his tip on the pad of your tongue, swirling around, his eyebrows scrunching from the sensitive touch, “fuck, so fuckin’ perfect,” hand coming down to caress your head before dipping his fingers between the- still wet hair from your shower.

He twitches, releasing his load in your mouth, the salty taste tainting your tastebuds, he watches it coat your tongue, catching his breath as he's seeing you swallow every drop of cum, his thumb strokes across your bottom lip, smirking.

“Look at the mess you made, now I have to clean these sheets.” Gripping your hair between his digits, he's pushing your head down to look at the damp sheets, you gnaw on your bottom lip.

He pushes you back down on the bed, sloppily kissing your red and swollen lips once more.

“That cunt is just as good as I thought it was.”