Dean couldn’t stop grinning. Normally Dean was annoyed when
Bobby chose him for gun cleaning duty but he had been more than happy to help
when you had been assigned the task. You were both sitting out in the salvage
yard. Dean watched as you sang along with the radio, cleaning the pistols and
rifles expertly without a second thought. It was supposed to be raining today
but there wasn’t a cloud in the sky. It seemed like no matter what the sun was
always shining when you were around. In general, Dean found that everything was
always better when you were around. It didn’t matter if it was a hunt, a road
trip, or a food run. You just always made everything better. Dean thought you
were far better than anything he could ever hope to deserve and he was still
confused everyday as to why you had chosen him. He was grateful for whatever it
was. It meant that he was able to enjoy moments like this. You looked up at him
and gave Dean the smile that was reserved for him. A smile so genuine it
physically hurt Dean to look at it. He smiled back, or really just looked back
because he hadn’t stopped smiling since he’d returned home to you yesterday. You
laughed and went back to work. Dean continued to stare, mesmerized. You were
everything he never thought he’d ever get to have. You were happiness.
Sam shouldn’t be alive. The hunt had took a bad turn and he
should be dead. But you were there. Somehow you were in the right place at the
right time and Sam was alive. Ever since Sam had met you things always seemed
to happen that way. The motel just happened to have one room left and it just
happened to be half price. Dean managed to choose the right boxes on his
scratch offs to win $500 everytime. The fleeing monster would accidently take a
wrong turn that led to a dead end. Nothing bad could happen when you were
around. It became statistically impossible. Sam was brought out of his thoughts
when you came and sat across his lap. You wrapped your arms around him and tucked your
head into his neck and closed your eyes. Before long you had drifted off to
sleep. He kissed your forehead and smiled. Because of you he was the luckiest
man on earth, in every way imaginable. He grabbed the remote and turned on the
TV to find them showing his favorite movie. He laughed to himself. You really
were his lady luck.
Cas kept watch as you slept. You both had just finished a
hunt that left you exhausted. After you showered you had kissed Cas goodnight
and immediately thrown yourself on the lumpy motel bed. You were asleep within
seconds. It always surprised Cas how quickly you could fall asleep. Everything
about you surprised Cas, really. He couldn’t believe that someone who had been
through what you had could manage to stay such a good person. The evidence of
your hardships lay all across your sleeping form. You were covered in scars,
some old and some fresh. You had bruises all along your knuckles and a few on
your ribs. Your bones had been broken numerous times and Cas lost track of how
many broken noses he had to heal for you. You’d been to Hell, fought in heaven
and ran through purgatory, like the honorary Winchester that you were. You’d
seen the worst of humanity, monsters, and heavenly beings (including Castiel
himself). Yet somehow through all of that you somehow managed to remain optimistic
and happy. You laughed at Dean’s dumb jokes and Sam’s stupid pranks. You tried
to see the good in everyone even when there wasn’t a shred of decency in them. No
matter what, each day you woke with a smile and told Cas you how much you loved
him every night. You rolled over in your sleep and felt around on the bed. When
you found his hand you gripped it tight and sighed. Your breathing evened back
out and you were fast asleep again. Castiel smiled. You truly were fascinating.
There was only one thing Bobby could think of to describe
you. Trouble. If you weren’t off in
some corner making out with Dean you were distracting Sam from his research and
work. If Cas was around you ignored all the work Bobby needed you to do to
watch cartoons with him instead. You ate all his food, used all his ammo, and
refused to help with the dishes. Sure, you helped stop a couple of apocalypses
but what did that matter when he couldn’t walk 2 feet in his own house without
tripping on one of your bloodied flannels? He could hear you and Dean giggling
upstairs. They’re supposed to be
translating rituals he thought. Seconds later something hit the ground and
shattered. “That wasn’t me!” you called out. Bobby sighed but couldn’t keep
from laughing. What was he gonna do with you?
Daddy Klance Drabble (loosely inspired by recent
events in my household):
Keith awoke to the pitter-patter of
little feet making their way to his room.
“What time was it?” He wondered,
not daring to check. It was best to pretend he was still sleeping.
All he knew was it was too early for this. He wondered at what age
kids realized weekends were for sleeping in?
Ally, his five year old, climbed up the
foot of the bed and wiggled her way in-between her fathers.
Lance rolled over with a grunt and put
his back to her. This was the best position. Let your heavy muscles
take the brute force of any incoming knees, feet or elbows.
Keith was not quick enough and before
he could turn around, Ally’s arms were around him and her head found
his shoulder. Keith let himself melt into the snuggle.
“I love you, Daddy,” Ally said, as
she petted his stubble with her little hands.
“I love you too, baby girl,” Keith
whispered and then shut his eyes.
Ally seem to settle and for a few
glorious moments, Keith let himself think this was nice and cozy and
they were all going to go back to sleep.
However, it was not long before Ally
started flip flopping like a fish out of water, digging her tiny feet
into Lance’s back and draping herself over Keith, preferring the
horizontal position. When she was tired of that, she rustled with the
blankets like a parachute or pulled them over their heads and
pretended she was camping. Then she’d kicked them off with
Keith held on tight to his fraction of
“Ally Cat, why don’t you practice
your letters on Papa’s back and I’ll guess which one you’re writing?”
Lance suggested. This would occupy her for a few minutes, letting
them cling to a few more moments of rest, plus Lance got his back
scratched. Win win.
She practised a few and then flopped
back over to face Keith.
Lance let out a small whimper. He
wanted that to last longer.
She began singing the alphabet and
patting the tune on Keith’s chest.
When she finished her hand was on
Keith’s face again.
“Papa’s beard is softer. You’re
“Mmm,” Keith grunted in agreement.
Ally flicked at his lips so they made a
flub flub sound and giggled.
“I can make you look like a pig,”
she chuckled as she pushed his nose up.
“Snort, snort,” Keith half
heartedly played along.
“Why do you have so much hair in your
Keith groaned because Lance flipped
over so fast, everyone in the bed bounced.
“Ya, Keith. Why do you have so much
hair in your nose?” Lance teased.
“I don’t know,” Keith huffed.
“You can borrow my clippers any
“Why? Nature wouldn’t have made nose hair this way, if it didn’t serve some sort of purpose.”
“Not all adaptions serve a purpose,
Keith. We cut our nails. We should trim our nose hairs.”
Keith pulled the pillow out from behind
his head and brought it down with a crash on Lance’s shoulder.
Lance was up in a flash, his own pillow
in hand and made his way around the bed to Keith’s side. Keith stood
up on the bed, pillow ready to block the impact.
This was war.
Ally jumped off the bed, bouncing with
excitement as her father’s walloped each other with the pillows.
It was not long before the battle was
called a truce and the pair lay panting on the bed, their stomachs
hurting from laughter.
However, soon a fuzzy pink pillow came
crashing down upon them.
Keith and Lance looked at each.
“We work much better as a team,”
Lance smirked and Keith nodded then tackled the squealing child while Lance
covered her in raspberries and the room once again erupted in
Our sweet kitten has disappeared. My son and I go out and call and call for her. He especially is struggling with the lack of closure.
Unfortunately, in life there is often a lack of closure…Why didn’t you get hired for the job? Why did the guy you went out with last week disappear? Why is your favorite cousin being so cold?
One way our little Sasha has been helpful is in teaching about freedom. We all want and need freedom. Letting people, and cats, be themselves is essential to happiness. By holding on too tight, the one loved will struggle more for freedom. But by loving each being as they are and giving freedom in their lives from outside expectations, we allow ourselves to enjoy the experiences and treasure one another more. Additionally, the cat doesn’t get smothered and we don’t get scratched. 😉 Win / win in my book.
For starters, today is my anniversary with RF. I cannot believe it has been a year - the most perfect year. That being said, I will always try my best to find ways to spice our sex life up. Call me a freak, but it keeps him coming back for more. If you don’t have a kinky bone in your body, I got you boo because that’s all I have.
1. As I said it before, in public areas (while shopping/dinning out/wherever you are) excuse yourself and go to the ladies room. Take your panties off and when you return casually hand it to him. It will drive him insane.
2. Head to your nearest sex store and make some friends. They have this vibrator that you have on and it comes with a remote. While you’re at dinner, put it on or in (some go inside of you) and hand him the remote. Men love power. There’s nothing sexier than pleasing a woman and no one else in the room knows but you two.
3. If he is a work or in a business meeting, I always have a little picture stored ready to play with him. I love driving him insane with those. Just press send and capture his mind.
4. It’s self explanatory: lingerie set and a trench coat (fall is coming ladies)
5. Last Christmas I gave RF a sex box with a bunch of goodies. If you check Amazon or Spencer’s, there are a bunch of scratch-and-win sex cards or coupons. I remember once, RF kept the coupon and redeemed when I was so tired. It was so funny, I could not resist.
If you ladies have any more freaky tips, feel free to add because I’m always looking for more
yes but has anyone talked about this: the foxes playing monopoly
- somehow dan and neil convince all the foxes to play monopoly together
- the upperclassmen bet on who’ll throw the first punch
- neil has never played monopoly and he’s at least mildly interested in it
- since there’s nine of them i think neil and andrew would play together
- allison is probably the best at monopoly lbr
- everytime someone gets money out of kevin he takes it as a personal offense
- as the game goes on the foxes start to crumble
- colorful and creative threats go back and forth
- andrew couldn’t care less, he’s probably been stacking the houses and hotels on top of each other
- surprisingly (or not) kevin is the first to throw punches (it’s probably nicky or aaron on the receiving end) and the game dissolves quickly after that
- no one wins
Since I’ve had a few people ask about Barbatos (from Tales of Destiny 2), the latest Carnage Sphere boss in Tales of Link, and why he’s such a total meme, I thought I’d share a video (not mine) from his appearance in Vesperia’s coliseum 200-man melee:
For full context (or “Why Repede will always be my favorite mascot”):
Hold Me Close Through The Long & Terrible Night (1/?)
Pairings: Immortal!Ivar x reader
Warnings: Just angst for this part
Word count: 468
Summary: Ivar has been cursed with a limitless life and he finds himself in the present day, alone. The only problem is that he’s changed and he finds something from his old life, but holds on too tightly.
A/N: Welp. Here I am, writing this from my dorm room. I’ve never written Ivar before and refer to this post about who I blame about my new obsession.
There are not many things that Ivar finds pleasant. He’s lived too long and seen too many things throughout his life for him to experience the simplest pleasures of life. His life has been too long and he wonders what gods he has angered to make his life become a never ending cycle of hell and misery.
Request: Hiii! I’ve read your imagines and drabbles, and they are so good! I have one request though! Could do one with Peter x female!reader, where some ‘evil villain’ suddenly attacks the avengers tower? Kinda similar to the scene where ultron and the other robots attack the avengers in the tower. Also, could you do the scene similar to where Bruce falls on top of Natasha but with Peter and the reader? Idk, I just thought it was hilarious and cute of how flustered he got..😂 sorry this is long!
A/N: Reader has got the power of teleporting! This is a bit rushed since I am supposed to leave in 5 minutes for my birthday party, so I haven’t edited it 😅 I hope it is nice anyway!!! xx
It had been a relaxing day at the Tower, just chilling out and watching movies. You were wrapped up in a blanket, your head resting on Peter’s shoulder, eyes almost closed. You had been trying to get Peter to notice your liking towards him for the longest time, but he was so oblivious. As you were about to close your eyes completely, you heard the glass walls break. Opening your eyes to see clearly, you saw a group of around thirty men, armed with guns, pointing at each of the Avengers. You didn’t know how, but in a few seconds, they were no longer pointing at you, and there was a huge fight going on between your friends and the men. You felt Peter leave -probably to put on his suit, and you teleported to do the same, since being a teenager you didn’t want people to recognize you. All dressed up and back in the living room, you started to fight. Using your powers and the fighting skills Natasha had taught you, you made your way through the men, getting a few scratches, but mostly winning. Everyone seemed to be doing well, but you didn’t see Peter. Starting to get worried of the thought of something happening to him, you teleported to his room, not finding him there. Teleporting back to the living room, you were almost shot by one of the men, and when trying to move, you fell to the ground. Teleporting behind the man, you hit him on the head, making him pass out. You then hid between the couch and the wall, trying to get your gun ready, which for some reason was blocked. You could hear your friends fighting, some of them already tired, and just as you were about to get up and help, you felt somebody collapsing on you. ‘Shit, I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, you know… I’m sorry’ Peter said. He was right on top of you, one of his hands on the ground and the other extremely close to your boob. Looking down at his hand, he looked too, and removed it really quickly, rambling more. ‘Oh my God, I’m sorry, I didn’t do it on purpo-‘ he was cut off by Tony, shouting and moving things around. ‘Okay, guys! Fight is over! Has anybody seen Parker and [Y/L/N]?’ Tony asked. As you heard his steps approaching you, you teleported with Peter back to your room, pushing him off you just as you got there. He took off his mask, his cheeks still red, and he took a glance around him. ‘I had never been in your room’ he said. That was true -you had been in his multiple times watching movies, but you liked to keep your room as something private. ‘Well, if we had stayed there and Tony had caught us in that position, he would probably joke non-stop for months, and this was the first place I could think of before teleporting’ you said with a shrug, trying not to blush at the thought of how close you had been to Peter moments ago. ‘About that, I’m sorry -I was pushed and didn’t see you and you know, I-I didn’t mean to touch you in an inappropriate way -not that you are ugly, cause you are not! You are extremely beautiful! I mean-shit, I’m rambling, I kind-‘ he was rambling so much by this point, and even if you found it funny and adorable, you wanted him to shut up. ‘Cut it, Parker’ you said, and approaching him you took his face in your hands and pressed your lips to his. You could tell he was startled at first, and just as you were about to pull apart, he pressed you closer to him, and softly unlaced your mask, careful not to pull your hair. Pulling apart to remove it, he threw it to the bed and pulled you close to him once again. Just as you two were about to lie on the bed, your door flung open, and pulling apart extremely quickly, trying to act as if nothing happened, you both looked at who it was. ‘So here they were, our lovebirds finally actually acting like lovebirds’ Tony said, a smirk on his face, the rest of the Avengers behind him, giving you guys a thumbs up. You wanted to be ashamed, but hey, you had gotten to kiss your crush, and you didn’t really care about the rest. Looking back at Peter, you saw him smiling at you, and using your powers to quickly close the door and be back in his arms, you smiled back at him. ‘I had been wanting to do that for so long, ya’ know’ he whispered before pulling you close again, kissing you and pressing your body to his.
i’m firmly of the opinion that mac arranging for their old apartment to be fixed up isn’t a plan by mac to make dennis stay.. i think it’s been in the works for a while and perhaps mac used his scratch card winnings to pay for it? yeah i believe there was no ulterior motive, mac just did it bc he loves dennis and he misses their old lifestyle (as shown by his dream in ptsdee)
whats more, i think the scene where the apartment is revealed to dennis may be the opener. consider: the apartment has finally been finished and so mac takes dennis there to reveal his surprise to him. however unbeknown to mac, dennis has recently found out that he has a child and is possibly considering leaving the gang bc of that. so when dennis sees what macs done, he short circuits bc wait…. maybe he doesn’t want to leave? and maybe he loves mac more than he lets himself think? and whilst dennis is having this internal crisis, macs patiently waiting for some kind of reaction and eventually he asks something along the lines of “so what do you think?” with a big grin on his face and dennis panics and blurts out that he has a child. roll “dennis’ double life” title card.
#46, “If you love it so much, then
why don’t you marry it?” for Royai
Roy ran his hands through his hair,
clutched it between his fingers and tugged on it hard enough to feel
the pain but not rip any follicles out of his scalp. He needed the
distraction to from the headache forming at the base of his skull.
“Why can’t you just wear the damned uniform? It’s the least
offensive fashion choice you have available to you.”
“I’m not a soldier. I will never
be a soldier. I don’t want anyone even thinking I’d compromise on
that! ” Edward Elric would not be swayed. “And my fashion
choices represent that I am a unique individual with impeccable taste
who is not afraid to make a statement. Also, red is bad ass.”
“The only statement it makes is that
you dress yourself and want people to notice you…” Roy said and
closed his eyes. “So you don’t get stepped on.”
“And you just wear your trench coat
like a cape because you’re too lazy to put your arms in the sleeves?
Please. The uniform is too drab for you too.“ Ed countered.
Maes Hughes was enjoying the show. He
was sitting on the couch with Al and watching the argument play out,
both of them keeping score on notebooks to declare who was the winner
of the debate when it was all over. Eventually Roy would play
dirty and just threaten to freeze Ed’s spending account or perhaps
dry up his source of information involving the philosopher’s stone,
but for now they would enjoy the second Fullmetal vs. Flame battle
here in the office. They might have been amused, but he could see
from Hawkeye’s face she was getting annoyed with the duration of this
discussion. He chewed on his lip as he thought of a way to keep her
from ending this by stepping in on Roy’s behalf.
“Stop changing the topic, Ed! This
is about the military ball! Four hours of your life where you have
to play the part of an adult and do what your superior officer is
asking you to do and change into presentable clothing.” Roy
exclaimed and let go of his hair in order to slap his hands down on
the table. “It’s a dress uniform, it’s meant to make you look
proper not conform. For god’s sake Fullmetal, that watch you pride
yourself on is more of a symbol of your commitment to the military
than any uniform. If anything you should want to wear the uniform
because it will make you look taller and you get to carry a sword!”
Al scratched a point into Mustang’s
column on his score card.
“It should offend you that I would
dress up like a soldier at all!” Ed snapped. “I am the worst
soldier you have! I never listen, I destroy everything and I speak
out against the military wherever I go!”
“I noticed.” Roy said and leaned
back in his chair. “However, maybe you are exactly what the papers
call you…a ‘Hero of the people’. An alchemist who works for
the people and isn’t a
government errand boy. A Major in the military who
protects the ones who need it the most. Maybe you’re not in
uniform, but you still have your title and watch and that is far more
condemning than any gabardine coat. In the eyes of Amestris you are
a military dog no matter what color you wear.”
“Are you trying to get me to quit?”
“You wanted attention, you got
everyone’s attention.” Roy replied. “Now the top brass
and the Amestrian elite want to see you, Fullmetal Alchemist. They
want to see this kid who was the youngest ever to become a state
alchemist. They want to determine if you are a threat or an
asset, but more importantly they want to capitalize on your fame and
popularity and show you off. You’re not some research alchemist,
you’re a weapon. That makes people nervous because weapons with a
mind of their own can become liabilities. They fear another
Kimblee, especially one who starts out as a loose cannon like you
have. You in a uniform shows that there is some degree of control
over you and also stirs up some pride in the nation who you represent
in the starched blue frock you’re going to damn well wear to that
Ed crossed his arms. He could feel
himself losing this battle, but dammit if he was going to just agree
to dress up for this shit. “If you love it so much, then why don’t
you marry it?”
“Because he’s going to marry
Hawkeye.” Hughes piped in. You’re not going to win that easily
And Al had to grudgingly give his
brother a scratch in his column when he saw the startled and
embarrassed reactions to Hughes’s comment from the Colonel and
Ed seized the moment, jumping towards
the desk and slamming his hands into it like a large cat pouncing on
it’s prey. He grinned, “So that’s why you’re so interested in
this ball, because you can go on a date?”
“He’s passionate about his balls.”
Hughes added and could see Roy’s fingers twitch, the motion of a snap
before he just curled his hand into a fist out of frustration. He
wasn’t wearing gloves, but the motion made the desired statement.
Hughes didn’t care and gave him a wink, he could see Roy thinking
about throwing his coffee cup at him. Hawkeye glared at him, he
could feel it but he wasn’t going to break eye contact with Roy.
Yeah, he just might have bet on Ed because the odds were really
Roy’s eyes shifted away from his
asshole best friend and looked instead to the teenager leaning on his
desk celebrating a victory all too soon. “Actually my interest in
getting you to the ball was so that you could have a date,
with your mechanic.”
Hughes heard Al’s pencil scratch a win
mark in Roy’s column, he didn’t even have to look to know that was
who got the point. Ed’s short lived victory grin was gone, his
cheeks were bright red and his mouth was hanging open hoping words
would just fall off his tongue and save him from this awkward
situation. He leaned forward to say something but Hawkeye stepped
in front of him to block his view and remove him from the situation.
Dammit! Riza always swept in to save Roy! Lucky bastard!
Riza placed her hand on Ed’s shoulder
and leaned close to his ear. “Edward, Winry does a lot for you and
it would be nice if you treated her to an evening out like this. Of
course it doesn’t have to be a date, the Colonel and I are just going
together as superior and subordinate, but it is still an honor to be
escorted to the Central
the person you support. Think of how happy she would be to spend
the evening with you, to see how important you are and have you tell
these very important people who made your automail. Think of how
excited she would be to wear a ball gown.”
sat back in to the couch and threw up his hands in a sign of defeat.
Ed couldn’t see him but Roy could, and he watched that smug smirk
tug at the corner of his mouth and the sideways glance that screamed
‘checkmate, bitch’. Hawkeye was speaking low, but the room was so
quiet they could hear the ticking of Ed’s watch from inside his
pocket. That was done on purpose, Hawkeye was the master of silent
but deadly attacks and it was no different when she chose to fight
with words. She could have whispered, but this was for his ears as
well, to tell him this debate was over. He still had one more play
though and he looked at Roy, held up his hand and pointed to his own
wedding ring before pointing at Hawkeye and mouthing the words, 'If
you love her so much maybe you should marry her’.
added a scratch in the win column for Hughes as Mustang’s smirk faded
and he broke eye contact with Hughes.
do you say, Edward?” Riza asked as she stood up straight and
raised her voice back to normal. “Would you like to use the
office phone to call Winry and ask her to the ball? I’ll make
everyone leave so you can have some privacy. “
guess.” Ed said and stood there in amazement as he realized he
just committed to going to a dance with Winry.
wonderful Edward, I’d love to have someone to go dress shopping
with.” Riza said and turned to Roy and pointed to the door to tell
him to get out and not say another word.
circled Mustang’s name on his paper it denoting him the winner.
Hughes reached over and grabbed his pencil, wrote in 'Mr. and Mrs.’
above Mustang and flashed a smile before standing up. Al chuckled a
little and Ed shot him a dirty look, assuming it was because he was
going on a date with Winry. He got up and followed Hughes out and
they waited on Mustang, who slapped Hughes in the chest with the back
of his hand as he exited his office.
going to be your best man someday, I just would like that someday to
come before you’re too old and deaf to hear my speech.” Maes
replied and slung his arm over his best friend’s shoulder. “So
where do you want to go eat for lunch?”
I roll my eyes at Tyler, not exactly in the mood for games after the extremely draining task of weeding through, then responding to all of my emails.
“C'mon, it’ll be fun, promise,” he pleads.
“So it goes like this: there’s a soccer ball and two goals. I try to get the ball in your goal, and you try to get it in mine. Whoever gets the most goals wins.”
“…Tyler, that’s just soccer,” I sigh.
“Yep. Only in this version, every time you get a goal, the other person has to remove an article of clothing,” he smirks.
“Oh my god,” I groan. "I’m not doing that.“
"Pleeaase,” he pouts, shoving me around a bit to annoy me.
“Fine….pussy,” he says, cracking up when he sees my expression.
“Shut up. I’m better than you at soccer, you’re a basketball player,” I mumble.
“Yeah? Why are you so afraid then?” he taunts.
“I’m not! Fucking come on, I’ll play your stupid game,” I seethe
Tyler just chuckles, grabbing a ball and making his way down to the basement. I follow him reluctantly.
When we get down, Tyler gathers random objects from around the room to make goal boundaries.
“So how many goals should we go up to before someone wins?” Tyler scratches his chin thoughtfully.
“Well I’m only wearing so many articles of clothing,” I roll my eyes.
“Good point,” he grins. He pauses for a second before shouting “Threetwoone Go!” and before I can react, he punts the ball through my goal.
“Go ahead,” Tyler smirks, motioning for me to remove my sweatshirt.
“Cheap shot,” I grumble, pulling the hoodie over my head and quickly discarding it. I then go to retrieve the ball, feeling more determined than ever to rid him of his annoyingly cocky attitude.
I race towards his goal while he’s still basking in his victory, intending to catch him off guard, but he catches me at the last second and pulls the ball out from under me.
“You’re gonna have to try harder than that if you wanna beat me, babe,” Tyler taunts.
“Just go,” I growl. "You don’t even stand a chance.“
A half an hour later, we’re both sweaty and out of breath. Tyler stands across from me in just his gym shorts, watching as I pull off my t-shirt and grumble about how unfair his latest goal was.
He rolls his eyes at me and I decide that that is the final straw. I lunge at him, knocking him down and easily tapping the ball into his goal. I grin widely and turn around, fully prepared to gloat to him; but when I go back to face him, I see his limp body on the floor a few feet away from me.
"Jesus!” I cry out, rushing to his side and kneeling beside him. "Oh my god, oh my god.“
"Ah-hh, baby?” he says weakly.
“Where does it hurt? What happened?” I scan his body, trying to find the source of his pain. When I reach out to feel for any broken bones, I feel him grab my arms and pull me down on top of him. I struggle against his bare chest, shifting on top of him to look at his face.
“Fuck you, Tyler, do you know how worried I was?” I screech, shaking my head at the smug grin decorating his face; all traces of his previous anguish have completely vanished. "You are such an asshole.“ I wrench myself from his grasp and clamber to my feet.
"Aww I’m sorry babygirl, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“I guess I’ll just have to make it up to you then, huh?” Tyler gets to his feet.
I am about to ask what exactly he means by that, when he scoops me up and throws me over his shoulder.
“What the hell?!”
“C'mon, love, we’re already half naked, the rest is easy,” he laughs.
When we get to our bedroom he lets me down, but quickly shoves me back down on the bed. He licks his lips as his eyes graze my body.
“God, you are fucking perfect,” he mumbles, quickly ridding me of the rest of my clothes. Tyler crawls on top of me, still in his shorts, and gently presses a finger against me. "Mm, someone got wet playing soccer.“
He finally slips a finger, then another, inside me; and begins to thrust and curl them. He chuckles at the way I squirm under his touch.
"Fuck, just get inside me,” I groan, having had enough of his teasing.
“Oh no, you’re not in charge here,” he chides softly. "Maybe I should just leave you here for a while, make you beg for me.“
"No! Please daddy, please fuck me,” I smile when I see his jaw tighten from hearing the pet name.
“Just because you’ve been such a good girl for me,” he says, slipping out of his shorts and briefs. He slides his tip into me, waiting for me to grind down against him and beg him for more. When he gets what he wants, Tyler slams himself into me all the way. I arch my back against the sheets at the sudden feeling, and he quickly begins to set a pace. Tyler thrusts into me quickly and harshly, and I find myself close to my orgasm already, having gotten so worked up during the game. I begin to clench around Tyler, and he groans, slipping a hand between us to rub at my clit. He pushes me over the edge, and I bite my lip to stifle the moans spilling out of my mouth.
“Good girl,” he breathes heavily, coming up to his own end. He manages a few more sloppy thrusts, before spilling into me. Tyler then collapses on top of me, trying to slow his breathing.
I press a kiss to his lips, and he smiles down at me sweetly, saying: “I think I have a new favorite sport.”
hak/yona written for hakyonaweek day 1: first (meeting) summary: She enters the restaurant with a sway of hips, her six-inch heels clacking on the marble tiles. She can feel the way people turn and look at her. But she only has eyes for the gorgeous black haired man in a trench coat… nsfw. modern au. notes:beta’d by the wonderful, talented, gorgeous Kat @sawamura-daichis-thighs!! Couldn’t have done this without your continuous support and guidance, so thank you, love.
Yona tightens up the large white fur coat around her, her jet black heels click-clacking on the marble ground, her curls bouncing on her shoulders.
She enters the bar with a sway of her hips and, while she’s certainly not the only one who’s dressed rather provocatively, she gets a few appreciative stares that make her self-conscious.
Walking over to one of the bar stools, she orders whatever drink that comes up first on the menu. She’s too anxious to enjoy it.