#{ bites you bITES YOU BITES YOU.... affectionately }

[hoonven]

CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS

2.1K ⸺ a moment of clarity brings you back to your fiancé, flour-dusted and waiting, and somehow, amid the remnants of your champagne problems, you find hope stirring in the winter air

‎PAIRING! fiancé!park sunghoon x female reader

GENRES! fluff, angst, established relationship, hurt/comfort

WARNINGS! mentions of emotionally absent parents, brief mention of food, the reader struggles with overcoming childhood fears, i think that’s it lmk if i missed anything

Park Sunghoon was like snow, a silent beauty in the unforgiving frigid season of winter. He was the joy of building snowmen, the thrill of snowball fights, and the wonder of making snow angels. He was the delicate touch of snowflakes melting on your skin, the serene hush of snowfall blanketing the world. He was the sweetness of gingerbread cookies and the warmth of hot cocoa brimming with marshmallows. He was the comfort of a flickering fireplace, the softness of a fuzzy blanket wrapped tightly around you, the subtle perfume of winter spices from a burning candle.

Park Sunghoon was like snow—pure, ethereal, and timeless. He shone like the star atop a Christmas tree, his presence brought the excitement of a gift waiting to be unwrapped. He was the nostalgia of holiday movies you’ve seen a hundred times, yet never grew tired of.

Park Sunghoon was winter’s magic, a special spirit that blessed the earth in all its glory.

So why did you feel the biting cold?

It was exactly a year ago on Christmas Eve, and his proposal was perfect. The snow-covered gazebo twinkled with string lights, the crisp air carried the scent of pine, and a soft melody of carolers drifted from the town square. His hand, trembling but steady, had pulled a blue velvet box from his coat pocket. He smiled, warm and sure, as if he already knew your answer.

“Will you marry me?” he’d asked. The four simple words spoken in the kind of voice that could thaw an endless winter.

Your heart swelled, your hands shook, and you whispered a quiet “yes.” But later that night, as you laid in bed staring at the ceiling while the world outside froze over, doubt crept in like frost spreading across a windowpane.

Your mother’s voice rang in your ears, in weary resignation. You remembered how she used to sit by the window in the afternoons, staring out at a world she never felt part of anymore. “I gave up everything,” she had said once. “For my kids. For my husband. And look where it got me.”

The memory tightened around your chest like a vice. Sunghoon wasn’t like your father—he wasn’t distant, distracted, or cold. He was attentive, affectionate, and endlessly patient. But still, what if? What if marrying him meant losing yourself, too? What if everything started out great and then slowly got worse just like it did for your parents?

“Talk to me,” he said one evening, his voice soft but firm as he pulled you from the kitchen where you’d been stirring a pot of soup you didn't intend to eat. The engagement ring on your finger catches the light, a reminder of the promise you made but aren’t sure you can keep.

“I’m fine,” you murmured, refusing to meet his eyes.

“You’re lying.” His hands gently rest on your shoulders, his thumbs brushing reassuring circles. “You’ve been somewhere else since last Christmas Eve.”

You paused for a moment, caught off guard. You had almost forgotten how good he was at psychologizing you in the midst of your internal battle. But you lie again—because it's what comes most naturally to you when someone asks if you're okay.

“It’s nothing. I’m just stressed.”

“It’s not nothing. I can see it on your face. Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

His persistence feels like sunlight breaking through clouds, but you’re not ready to let the warmth in. You pull away, wrapping your arms around yourself as if shielding your heart from his. “I just… I don’t know if I can do this. What if I end up like my mom? What if I lose myself in this, Sunghoon?”

The words hang in the air like smoke, and for a moment, his expression cracks—hurt flickering across his features like a candle about to go out. But then he steps closer, his voice steady, gentle. “You’re not your mom. And I’m not your dad. Your mom had dreams, ambitions—things she was passionate about just like you. But the difference is you found someone who loves that about you. I would never ask you to give any of that up.”

“But what if I do anyway?” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes. “What if I forget who I am because I love you too much?”

“Then I’ll remind you,” he said simply. “Every day, if I have to.”

His words chipped away at the icy wall you had built around yourself, but fear is a stubborn thing, clinging even as warmth seeps in.

You suppose that's why you're sitting on a couch, staring at the framed watercolor painting on the wall—something abstract, meant to be calming, but to you, it’s just a swirl of indistinct shapes. Your hands fidget with the hem of your knit sweater as the snow-laden world outside the window reflects your mood: quiet, heavy, and cold.

“Y/N?”

The sound of your name pulls you back. Your therapist, Dr. Hart, leans forward slightly, her pen poised over her notepad. Her voice is soft, patient. “What’s on your mind?”

You blink, feeling the heat of her steady gaze. “Oh, um…” You hesitate, glancing down at your hands. “Nothing, really. Just lost in thought.”

Dr. Hart tilts her head, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. “Nothing’s rarely ever nothing. Take your time.”

For a moment, the room feels too small, too quiet, but you exhale and decide to speak. “Sunghoon,” you admit softly.

“Your fiancé?”

You nod, feeling a pang in your chest as the word settles between you. Fiancé. It’s supposed to feel joyful, exciting, but lately, it’s felt complicated.

“I love him,” you begin, your voice barely above a whisper. “I really do. He’s kind, supportive, and everything I could ever ask for in a man. But ever since he proposed, I’ve been… scared?”

Dr. Hart doesn’t interrupt, her expression open and encouraging.

“I keep thinking about my parents,” you continue. “My mom gave up everything to be with my dad. She stopped working, stayed home to raise me and my siblings, and over time, she just… lost herself. She used to love winning lawsuits for her clients, but eventually, all she did was clean and cook and wait for him to come home. She became so bitter, and my dad barely noticed. I don’t want that to happen to me. I don’t want to lose myself like she did.”

“And you’re afraid marrying Sunghoon will put you on the same path,” Dr. Hart says, her voice gentle.

You nod, your throat tightening. “I know Sunghoon isn’t my dad. He’s nothing like him. But what if I am like my mom? What if, without meaning to, I give up who I am because I love him too much?”

Dr. Hart lets the silence linger for a moment before speaking. “It sounds like you’ve built a wall around yourself, trying to protect your identity and your independence. And that’s not a bad thing—those parts of you are important. But Y/N, have you ever asked yourself this: is Sunghoon asking you to give those parts up?”

You blink, her question catching you off guard, and you're reminded of your conversation with him a few days ago when he pulled you out of the kitchen. “No,” you admit quietly. “He’s always encouraging me to do what I love. And reminding me to take breaks when I get too wrapped up in work.”

Dr. Hart nods thoughtfully. “It seems to me that the fear you’re holding onto doesn’t come from Sunghoon. It comes from your past—from what you saw in your parents’ relationship. You’ve taken that fear and made it your own, but it doesn’t have to be. You are not your mother, and Sunghoon is not your father. Their story is not yours.”

Her words land like a stone sinking into water, rippling through your thoughts.

“But what if I still mess it up?” you ask, your voice small. “What if I get it wrong?”

Dr. Hart smiles gently. “Every relationship takes work, compromise, and communication. But the fact that you’re here, reflecting on your fears, tells me you care deeply about doing this right. Sunghoon sounds like someone who sees you for who you are and loves you as you are. Maybe the question isn’t about whether you’ll lose yourself but whether you’ll allow yourself to trust you—and him.”

The knot in your chest loosens, her words settling like fresh snow over the chaos in your mind.

“Trust him,” you echo softly, more to yourself than to her.

Dr. Hart nods. “And trust yourself. You are not defined by your parents’ choices. You have the power to create the future you desire.”

For the first time in a year, the weight on your shoulders feels a little lighter. You leave the session feeling like the frost in your heart is starting to melt, warmed by the realization that maybe, just maybe, you can be brave enough to trust in the love you’ve found—and the person you’ve grown to be.

The smell hits you first—something warm and sweet, mingling with the faintest hint of something burning. You push open the front door, stepping into the glow of the tiny Christmas tree you and Sunghoon had decorated last week. Lights twinkle softly, casting shadows that dance on the walls, but it’s the sound of soft muttering coming from the kitchen that makes you smile.

When you round the corner, you stop in your tracks.

Sunghoon is standing by the counter, dusted in flour from his hair to his slippers, poking at a tray of slightly misshapen cookies. He’s wearing the most outrageously festive apron you’ve ever seen—bright red with cartoon reindeer and candy canes, a pair of oven mittens that look like Santa’s hands resting on the counter. His brow is furrowed in concentration as he lifts one cookie with a spatula, only for it to crumble in half.

“Oh, come on,” he grumbles under his breath, shaking his head.

You press a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh, but the sound escapes anyway, and his head snaps up.

“You’re home,” he says, his eyes lighting up despite the flour smudged on his cheek. “Uh, surprise?”

“What are you doing?” you ask, stepping closer.

He shrugs sheepishly, glancing at the mess on the counter. “I thought I’d try making your favorite holiday cookies. You know, the ones your mom always made? I figured it might cheer you up.” He winces as he looks at the tray. “But, uh, they didn’t turn out as planned. I think I overdid the ginger or… probably everything.”

Your chest tightens, but not with anxiety this time. It’s the kind of warmth that spreads slowly, filling the cracks you’ve been carrying.

You see it then, as clear as the frost on the windowpane: you are not your mother, and Sunghoon is not your father.

Your mother gave up everything, but you won’t. You’ve built a life filled with love, with purpose, with someone who sees you for who you are and encourages you to be more. Sunghoon doesn’t take from you—he gives.

The thought warms you like a fire on a cold winter night.

“Sunghoon,” you whisper, your voice catching.

He frowns, stepping toward you. “What’s wrong? Did something happen at therapy?”

You shake your head, and before he can say anything else, you close the distance between you, wrapping your arms around him tightly. He freezes for a moment, surprised, then melts into the hug, his arms slipping around your waist.

“I love you,” you murmur into his shoulder. “And I'm sorry for being so distant, for letting my fears get in the way. You’ve been so patient with me, and I should’ve trusted you more. Trusted myself more. I should’ve trusted us more.”

“I love you, Sunghoon, and I want to marry you.” You say, the words spilling out like a confession. “I just needed time to remember that I’m not her. And you’re not him.”

His hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, his touch gentle. “Hey, it’s okay,” he says softly. “I know you’ve been through a lot. I just wanted to remind you that I’m here, no matter what.”

You pull back slightly to look at him, tears pricking your eyes. “We’re gonna be okay, right?” you ask, your voice trembling.

His gaze is steady, warm, as he cups your cheek with his flour-dusted hand. “We’re gonna be more than okay. You’re not her, Y/N. You’re you—stubborn in all the best ways.” His lips quirk into a small smile. “And you’re stuck with me, reindeer apron and all.”

A laugh bubbles out of you, light and free. “You look ridiculous by the way,” you say, brushing a smudge of flour from his cheek.

“Ridiculously handsome,” he counters with a grin.

You roll your eyes but lean in to kiss him, a silent promise in the way your lips meet. Outside, snow falls softly, blanketing the world in a quiet peace. And in his arms, you finally feel warm.

© 2024 hoonven, all rights reserved. i do not give permission to modify, repost, translate, or plagiarize my works on any platform. NETWORK! @kstrucknet

[machveil]

I’ve been cursed by visions of König so I'll write them for you🎀✨

CW: fleshlight (it’s not specifically said in the fic, but you know the ones that are, like, basically a torso and the upper thighs? that’s the vision), masturbation, heavy pinning, size difference, fingering and oral (toy!receiving), overstimulation, nasty man /affectionate

König presents himself as someone who demands respect, a Colonel, a man who gets his hands dirty and towers over others. it’s his job, his height and build doing nothing to ease fellow soldiers - intimidating, he could snap someone in half like a toothpick if he really wanted to. cold, pale eyes that strike fear into others. maybe that’s why you make him freeze up, unperturbed by his stature and rank. you wave when you see him, smile when you talk to him. he knows you respect him, but outwardly you treat him like an old friend. Horangi’s no better, but he doesn’t fully relax around König til they’re off duty, unlike you

it eats at him, he doesn’t look into ‘why’ for months, how you freely touch him absentmindedly, how you make his chest tighten up. he doesn’t understand why his heart sinks when you talk to others, he doesn’t understand why his stomach twists when you talk to him. you’re a teammate, a colleague he trusts, it’s natural for his mind to wander to you. he thinks about Horangi when he passes bars, thinks about how he’d wage bets on whatever game is playing on the dingy screen tucked between liquor shelves. he thinks about Nikto when a stray cat dips into an alley, scruffy and tough like his friend. he thinks about you while thrusting into a stupid fleshlight, gripping it a little too hard as a mixture of his pre and lube drools out of the toy

legs jerking a little when he sinks his cock fully into it, stilling as he breathes heavily. it’s comically small in his hands, eyes glued to where it envelopes him. would you look small like this? he knows you’d be better, bites his lip as he rolls his hips. you’d be warm, searing him from the inside out, comfortable in his hold. eyes fluttering shut, he can barely keep himself together, embarrassment creeping up his throat when he cums after a couple thrusts. he barely has to imagine you before spilling into the toy, moaning through the overestimation as he keeps bucking his hips. he barely got to make you feel good, so he tries again, a lewd mixture of thick white slick making a ring around his cock. he wouldn’t want to leave you unsatisfied, he knows he can do it

the whine that escapes him when he slips out the toy is pitiful, a sob leaving him as he slips two fingers into the fleshlight. he can do it, he promises he can make you cum— brain turning to mush as pumps them, quick movements that coat his hand. you’d make pretty nosies for him, for now he’ll settle for the squelching of lube and cum, frantically working the little hole. would you squeeze around him? he wishes this damn thing could, mind hazy as he sobs out a choked groan. would his fingers not be enough? the thought makes him anxious, suddenly pulling his fingers out. he can eat you out, readjusting himself to lay down, one hand working himself to another orgasm while his other holds the toy. he doesn’t care about his chin and nose getting wet, dumbly mouthing at the fleshlight

he doesn’t mind the mix of lube, cum, and spit, he figures it wouldn’t be different than how he’d treat you. soft murmured praise leaving him for being so good, crooked nose bumping against the toy. you’d tug at his hair, wouldn’t you? watch him lick and suck and worship your body? he can imagine it, feel the phantom touch of your legs over his shoulders, hand sloppily jacking himself off. would you keep up with him? let him manhandle you in bed, toy with you and make you cry out? suddenly he’s tensing up, hips jerking helplessly as he ruins his bedsheets, feet digging into the mattress as he gasps against his toy— against you. it’s normal to think about you, isn’t it? how he imagines you shushing him, petting his hair as buries his face between your thighs, soft little breaths leaving him

he was good, wasn’t he?

[shuacore]

call me pretty (m)

vernon x f!reader 0.9k tags: established relationship, fluff, smut, dirty talk, pet names, heavy on pet names and praise and woooeirieiioktjtj

a/n: someday i'll write abt someone else.... not today though WOOOOWHOHOOO (tldr; utterly self indulgent vern smut <3)

vernon knows you like all the usual nasty stuff.

choking, spitting, taking you from behind, hair pulling, being controlled. you know, the usual. and in general, the sex is pretty good—he feels good inside you, knows what to do with his hands, always makes you feel loved.

apart from sex, however, vernon is pretty low-key when it comes to being a boyfriend. he’s more of a shower than a teller, like bringing you coffee at work or helping you out around the house without being asked. he tells you when you look nice, he picks out gifts that remind him of you. you’ve come to learn that being with vernon is constant assurance that he likes you, even if he doesn’t say it all the time.

you don’t need to hear him say that you look good, but it certainly doesn’t hurt.

the first time vernon says it and says it in earnest, he’s balls deep in you, fingers twisted deep in the pillowcase under your head. already you’ve been feeling the fire coursing through your veins, being so close to him like this, feeling vernon’s skin against your own. you always feel close to him, but something about missionary today has your toes curling and a yearning boiling in your gut so strong you can’t stop touching him. his chest, his biceps, his neck, his face. if you could crawl through vernon’s skin and sit in the cavern in his heart made for you, you would.

vernon’s cock pushes in deep and you feel the air leave your lungs, cheeks flushed, fingers wound deep in his damp curls.

“fuck, you look so pretty, baby,” vernon mutters. his voice is hoarse as he says again, “you’re so fucking pretty, baby, for me.”

the words hit you like a bowling ball and you go utterly still as a wave of heat so strong pulses through your body from your chest to your fingertips, leaving you breathless again. your jaw drops open as vernon groans, his cock still deep in you as he falls into the rhythm he knows you like. it thrums in your chest, the word.

pretty.

you let out a strangled groan as vernon noses along your jaw, one hand coming to rest at the base of your throat but not squeezing—just a subtle reminder that you’re completely his. as if you needed a sign as he groans more praise against your skin, leaving you hot all over and clenching desperately around his cock.

“shit–” vernon chokes, “what’s going on with you today?” he presses a kiss to your cheek as you take him all the way again, his hips slapping against your ass in the way you like.

words are scarce as you struggle to breathe normally. you knit your eyebrows together as you feel another wrench of pleasure in your stomach. “call me–fuck–pretty–”

vernon pulls away in surprise, hips stuttering, dark eyes wide. you can’t even stifle the whine that comes from your throat; everything is so sensitive today that the loss of sensation leaves you feeling achy. vernon grins, slow and affectionate as you squirm. he raises an eyebrow and leans forward to press his forehead to yours as his cock slips out and back in.

“you like that, honey, hmm? when i call you pretty? when i tell you how much i love you?” vernon murmurs, voice raspy under his breath. you feel the praise in your stomach as you cry out, nails biting into his scalp. “god, you’re so tight.”

you don’t even have the brainpower to talk back like you usually do. all you hear is vernon murmuring you're so pretty, baby a thousand times over in your head, leaving you warm and dizzy. all you can manage is a jerk of your head, as you feel yourself approach release. vernon’s hand finds yours, squeezing tight as you gasp.

“come for me, baby, wanna see it,” vernon pleads, wasted on you as he nears his own release. “for me, pretty girl–”

you squeeze your eyes shut as you come, going stiff as it takes over your whole body, seeing white behind your eyelids. as you clench around his cock, vernon comes shortly after, muttering curses under his breath with his hand still wrapped securely in yours. your chests heave and a few seconds pass before you have the energy to peel your eyes open. your body feels heavy, utterly spent from the sudden onslaught of feeling.

when you’ve both recovered vernon pulls out and rolls onto his side. his dark eyes are thoughtful as he brushes a strand of limp hair out of your face.

“pretty, huh?” vernon says, smiling slow. you feel another burst of warmth in your gut and bite your lip. “you like when i compliment you?”

you nod slowly and feel a flush creep up the back of your neck and onto your cheeks. vernon chuckles and swipes a thumb over it.

“so definitely.”

you hide your face in your hands, biting back a smile. vernon never failed to leave you feeling like a giddy teenager, even after so long.

“it’s nice,” is the best you can come up with when vernon looks at you like you hung the stars.

he scoots closer, slinging an arm low over your hip and presses a kiss to your bare shoulder. through your fingers you see him gazing at you with so much love your heart squeezes tight in your chest.

“anything for my pretty girl.”

—

other stuff!!! :3

[sukunasweetheart]

Being the bane of sukunas existence as you're his girlfriend because you act like a perverted old man around him... he kinda digs it tho, its mildly hilarious and he doesn't dislike the unhinged attention (he tries to be so lowkey about it)

Every once in a while, you'll caress his behind or fondle his big boobily man breasts, the same way he does to you. he was only stunned at first - now he is completely unphased by your sneaky little hands.

he texts you, asking you what you want for dinner, and he's not surprised when the answer is "i want you oiled up and naked in bed by the time i get home". then he just replies with "making pasta"

Big obnoxious smacking noises when you kiss him all over, and sukuna just lets you be, he'll be sitting on the couch turning the tv on and here you come, smooching his cheek. sometimes, its the top of his head, other times, its his forehead or neck. if you do it too much though, you'll get covered with his bite marks in return.

when sukuna gets up to go to the toilet, you ask him if you can hold his peepee while he takes a piss, bc you saw a funny tiktok talking about it... he gives you a silent judgmental stare as he closes the door on your face. but behind it, he lets out the tiniest snort and shakes his head bc the idea of it is so ridiculous.

one time when you go outdoor camping with him you genuinely accidentally stumble close to sukuna who is taking a leak in the forest bush area and he catches you staring from behind as he's buttoning himself back up. and then he's chasing you down while you're screaming that it was an accident and that you only heard him peeing and didn't actually see anything. (not that you don't know what it looks like, anyway.)

when he's sweaty after a workout or some physical exertion, you'll definitely be approaching him deviously, talking about some "covered in flavour" type of bullshit... he'll push your face away and head into the shower but his ears are flushed with red.

just... sukuna who will let u mack on him endlessly bc he secretly doesn't hate the doting 🥹🥹🥹 and if you're not being obnoxiously lewd or affectionate?? thats when he knows something's up...

and obviously, every now and then you'll say something that makes him know that you're not just lusting over his body.

during a walk back home on a summer afternoon, you point upwards while holding his hand and looking up.

"sukuna, look. you're in the sky."

he reluctantly looks up, expecting some sort of dick shaped cloud or something like that. but there are no clouds in sight.

"what is there to look at?" he asks, quizzically.

"the colour, silly. when the sun's still setting, the sky always gets like this, around the same time everyday. the pretty pinkish colour, like your hair."

he turns silent and observes the sky for a minute. you call him silly, as if it's an everyday thing that you compare a person with the literal sky.

"it's my favourite time of the day..." you mumble, just barely audible to his ears. and something about the way you stand there, and speak so softly, makes you look so pretty to him. "i'll always think of you when the sun is setting."

"oh- but i think of you everyday regardless, i suppose."

he already knows that. he already knows you love him. why does he feel so flushed right now?

"alright, i get it. enough. let's continue home," he urges you, holding your hand tighter. you follow him down the street, like a puppy.

life couldn't feel more at peace right now, with your fingers interlocked with his, listening to you hum your favourite song on the way home, the street now covered with the orange light of the sunset.

"any ideas for dinner?" he asks, a few minutes after some silence.

"mmm..."

oh, he regrets asking the question now, fully knowing what's coming.

"i want your tatas in my mouth, please."

"tatas?" sukuna's asks with furrowed brows.

after bursting into laughter at the way he said it, you attempt to think up an actual food you want for dinner.

"...just for tonight." sukuna mutters.

"huh?"

"don't ask me again, i might change my mind."

"wait- really?"

let's just say, your mouth had a taste of heaven for the first time that night.

[billysgirllol]

“that is true, i do get the best of both worlds now.” lucy gray winks, dying to laugh at this reaction. it’s better than she expected. “well maybe they do make peter pan, darlin’. they make mickey and he’s a disney character so why not?” maybe his mom just didn’t look in the right places. “that’s sweet of you.” voice coos, holding her fork and head tilting in affection as a loving look fills her eyes. she wants to kiss him for it, but can’t and scolds herself for even having those thoughts. but… why not think about it? it’s so kind of him to take care of her like that and she treasures honest, kind actions like that out of people. and then… he looks so handsome. her body wanting to attack him in kisses, studying his mouth again, has her annoyed she keeps doing this. IT keeps doing this. “you don’t like your salad?” she concernedly wonders, gaze falling down on his food. “oh, of course not.” voice drops in a disappointed tone, brows scrunching together because she’d never say her sweet little billy she met that day was beast. his outfit didn’t mean a thing to her. “for you, for takin’ care of me and ridiculously havin’ to brush my teeth, take my makeup off, give me a bath and put my jammas on,” she laughs affectionately, but somewhat feeling embarrassed. letting him have his bite, she grins once he takes it then eyes fall on his incoming fork with his dessert. curiously, she leans it and quickly steals the bite to see what it tastes like. confusion knits her brows then the second she tastes ice cream, eyes light up, being vocal about her love for the flavor once she swallows, “oh, that one’s delicious. i LOVE that one.” meringue stuck to her lip, she giggles and uses it an excuse to kiss him on the cheek to leave a sticky kiss.

no, it’s because she just loves him and if he suddenly turned into a girl she guesses she’d have to learn to like a girl. but she doesn’t want to tell him that, that she loves him in that way because she doesn’t want to jump right back in line with him. so while she’s thinking in the middle of eating her bread and spaghetti sauce, a little devious idea comes to mind. “maybe i’m figurin’ out i’m bisexual. after so many failed experiences with men.” smiling sweetly at him to lay it on extra convincing, stuffing a bite of noodles in her mouth. “what do you mean. you want tinker bell on your boxers? i think scooby doo, dinosaurs and spongebob’s adorable.” a small laugh sounds from her, dabbing at her face with a napkin. “you didn’t last night because it didn’t happen.” lucy gray decides, smiling innocently despite remembering other parts that make it sound true— that she probably did say or do some of those things. “why, of course i did. you had and have pretty dark wavy hair like cinderella’s prince or ariel’s.” that’s what stood out in her mind first as a child with a massive imagination first. “i love you, too.” a big smile curling her lips upwards that calling him a prince provokes an i love you out of him. love him in that caring way she always has. not i love you let’s be together right this second. because she remembers how that went last time and blair, there’s blair in the picture that she thinks he isn’t telling her the whole story too. “it was written in the stars, wasn’t it. you needin’ a little leech and me needin’ someone to leech to.” happy smile residing on her face, not even the idea of blair can ruin those memories. wiping her fork off and dipping it into a piece of cake, offering it to him to take once she brings the fork back up to his lips.

[dollyonm0lly]

Emperor Caracalla has busied himself with his favorite concubines to indulge his senses for the evening, leaving his sister-in-law to her own devices. The Empress decides to retire to her chambers and enjoy a rose petal bath.

Some time later, after Emperor Geta has returned from meeting with the Senators, he sees his Empress bathing alone, so he decides to join her and help her further decompress. 😏

You hear him before you see him. Your head resting on the smooth, well-finished ceramic floor, your body completely submerged in the water, petals surrounding you completely with every slightest movement, your eyes remain closed, as if you opened them, everything would be over in the snap of a finger. You let your hearing senses heighten, listening to him walk around the room, his footsteps, the exasperated sigh that leaves his lips, he seems a little tired, you think. You can hear the rustling of fabric, of someone undressing not far from you, the sound of bones cracking as it can only be him stretching, you agonize, imagining the state of his poor muscles. You hear him approach, seemingly circling the tub to the opposite side of you, and you feel his eyes heavy on your body as he studies you.

“How's the water, my love?” – You hear him ask in a rhetorical manner, you know he will join you regardless of the answer given, you can already feel the way he leans towards the water, as if calculating the best way to get in without spilling too much of it and ruining your rose bath.

“Hmmm” – You respond with just a satisfactory murmur, indicating that the water is at the perfect temperature, earning a nasal laugh from Geta in response, seeming to find your relaxed attitude at that moment amusing. He doesn't waste much time after that, you feel one foot entering the water, and then the other, and then finally you feel the pressure of his body sitting in front of yours, the act doing as expected, some of the water overflowing out, earning him a slight tsk from you, which he promptly ignores.

“All cozy, huh…” – You hear Geta say after a few seconds of adjusting himself where he is sitting, he takes some of the water in both of his palms in a shell position, using it to wet his face and some of his hair. You remain silent for the next few minutes, he doesn't care, but you can slowly feel the tickle of his fingertips reaching one of your legs, caressing it.

“Cut that” – You answer simply, finally opening your eyes to get a better look at him, his chest glistening above the water, his hair now a little damp and slicked back, that damn smile on his face, the one where he bites his own lower lip when doing it, a smile of pure anticipation and mischief, you know. You roll your eyes at him, extending one of your legs above the water level, using it to push his chest back, distancing him from you. – “This is a relaxing moment” – You tell him in a grumpy tone, implying that his advances would ruin it.

“Oh, I know. I'm helping with that” – Geta responds, chuckling as he is pushed by your leg, but this does little to shake him, he reaches both of his hands on your foot which you press against his chest, bringing it close to his face and distributing affectionate kisses on it, you feel ticklish instantly and try to pull your foot from his grip, only earning your foot being grabbed even more and a playful bite on your big toe, making both of you giggle silly. – “... Can I stay?” – He questions after a few seconds of silence, your foot now being massaged by his soft hands, your body relaxing again where it rests. It’s sweet, really, how after a few years of marriage, he still cares so much about what you might be thinking. You just nod, enjoying the massage, but missing the satisfied little smile adorning his face at your answer.

“I really missed you during my day…” – You hear Geta start to speak in a dreamy and tired tone, he really gets much more exhausted when he doesn't have you around all the time, you murmur in understanding, there was little you could do, Geta was busy today, and Caracalla had requested your company. You feel the massage turn into kisses again, these that go down to your ankle, where he also leaves some playful bites, up to your calf, his body getting even closer as he goes, slowly caging yours.

“Looking at your pretty face for at least one more second during the day already makes it so much better…" – He says, and with that, you open your eyes to him, meeting his desires, he lets his own wander over every little detail of your face, admiring you completely as he had done so many times before, and this look never changes, as if he were seeing you for the first time over and over again, it makes you warm inside, warm like his body now pressing against yours, towering over you, both of his hands on either side of your head, holding himself up on the ceramic it rests on.

“Kiss me…” – He asks, not orders, he asks. And you fulfill his wish, you direct your head towards his, your lips meeting his several times, in chaste and affectionate pecks, the pecks becoming a seal of lips, and with that, an intrusion of his tongue in your mouth, dominating all possible space in it, his hunger for you more insatiable every day regardless of how many times he has you in his arms. You moan against his mouth when you feel one of his hands run down your body, the tips of his fingers running down your skin, tracing your belly, until they reach your most intimate region, your legs opening for him unconsciously. – “You moan so beautifully, my dear” – He growls close to your ear as your lips part from his, his face now trailing kisses from your ear to your neck, smelling you there, letting his tongue run all over the area, savoring you like the tastiest dish, and to him, you might as well be. His fingers enjoy teasing you, feeling your lips before letting them wander over your clit for mere seconds, making you let out a protesting unhappy sound.

“Please…” – You beg, earning a satisfied grunt from him, finally using his thumb to stimulate your needy clit, earning a loud, grateful moan from you, which soon becomes a slightly strangled one at the feeling of his teeth on your right shoulder, biting and sucking the spot, hoping for the marks he'll be able to see clearly in the light of the day tomorrow.

“You make my cock so hard when you beg for my touches, I want to pound into you until you are unable to walk properly” – He says next to your ear, and along with the stimulation on your clit, you can feel two of his fingers getting wet with what he can get from your sticky cunt, using from your natural lubrication to slowly insert his index and middle finger inside you – “I want to stretch you out and fuck you until that pussy of yours is the perfect shape for my cock, made to satisfy only him, knowing how it feels inside you and feeling pleasure from it without even having to be there. I want this filthy pussy to think only of him when she begs to be filled on her horniest days” – Geta continues, his dirty words stimulating all the right parts of your brain and body, and despite what he says, he makes no effort to seek self-satisfaction, focusing only on stimulating you, seeming to feel enough pleasure in just giving you pleasure.

“I want this pussy to belong to me, for it to only contract my name when it cums” – You hear him say in a fierce tone, biting your lower lip between his teeth before capturing you again for a starving kiss, he is starved for you, for what your body can provide him, Geta intensifies the movements in your flower, just like the roses, his fingers inside you inverting between a back and forth penetration and a scissor like one, stretching you completely for him, while his thumb frantically stimulates your clit in tireless circular movements. And with that, you let yourself go for him.

[girlfromflor]

56 DAYS (sjy) | PART TWO (FINAL)

pairing: enemie!jake x fem!reader | read the prequel and part one

summary: after your best friend jay made you share an apartment with jake – “the guy you don’t like” –, you have to decide whether you should or not give into the feelings he makes you experience, something possibly pleasant and definitely memorable.

genres: "enemies" (reader is in denial) to lovers, accidental roommates, summer love, also has a bit of angst, smut

warnings: read the first parts otherwise the story won't make much sense, swearing, cliché guys i’m sorry, this is very domestic, they act like an old married couple, jake is in love y’all, lots of tension, some crying, reader likes to be alone, they tease the fuck out of each other (not sexually), they thirst over each other a lot (very, very sexually), they bond over music and food, mentions of two piece bikini, its implied that jake is taller than reader, they overthink a bit, but mostly just lots of fluff, and smut (so MDNI) that includes: sex dream mentions, dirty talk, sub!reader, dom!jake, unprotected sex (y’all know better, this is fiction), praising, biting, slapping, pain kink?, slight degradation, begging, marking, spitting, brief fingering, hair pulling and choking

wc: 15.273 | playlist: 56 days.

a/n: can't believe this is finally out, it took me so long omfg. each part is named after a song in the playlist. anyways, hope you guys like it<3 | taglist: @manuosorioh @tunafishyfishylike

DAY 1 - Do You Like Me?

56 days. it was too much. that was no way you could both get out of this whole thing alive, everyone knew that. you will end up killing jake and then yourself. jay always said that it was going to be fine, because he knew you enough to be aware that the strongest thing between you just wasn’t mutual dislike. when he bid you two goodbye earlier this morning he just asked – really affectionately – for you to be nice to each other, with a knowing look and a teasing smile. you reminisced the moment already missing him and jake, as he drove you two back to your apartment, thought the same.

the ride back home was very quiet, jake didn’t say a word about how you both were going to be very alone together for the next few weeks and you didn’t either. you thought it was best to keep at least some of the good mood of jay’s constant yapper as much as you could, since soon enough all you two would have is each other's company – and that’s a big no-no for you. jake thought – in all his honesty – that no time alone with you was enough. he just couldn’t wait to have you all to himself and, as soon as you step inside the comforting surroundings of your home, jake doesn’t shut up. he spends all day talking your ear off about every single thing there is to talk about, anything he could use as an excuse to chat with you – he even went so far as to chase you around the house so you’d keep listening to his yapping.

it’s day one without jay and you’re already arguing. over what? you didn’t even know anymore. it kind of started because he didn't leave you alone since eight in the morning when you two got home, then he didn’t clean the mess he made in the kitchen while cooking and then he accused you of taking forever to shower – which shouldn’t really matter because he has his own fucking bathroom –, and now you’re just competing over who’s choosing the movie you're gonna watch.

“i got here first, i’ll choose it.” he says, shoving you on the other end of the couch, his big hand locking you in place by your shoulder. he’s trying really hard not to laugh to keep a serious facade, but it’s almost impossible with the way you're so shamelessly throwing a tantrum right now – he wouldn’t imagine you’d actually want to watch a movie with him.

“but you’ll choose something i won't like, on purpose,” you reply, pouting. giving up on trying to sit up and just comically laying there, your arms falling from the cushion – and jake thought you never looked cuter. you didn’t even want to fight, but it seemed like getting on your nerves was his goal for the evening.

“now, that’s simply not true. don’t you like horror movies?” he asks as he skips all netflix suggestions to search for a specific movie he heard you talk one too many times with jay, finally letting go of your arm, alternating his glance between you and the tv as he watched you switch positions and rest your back on the couch’s backrest.

“i do, but–” you pause, there was no way he knew that from you, so how did he know you're fond of horror movies anyways? you ignored your traitor thoughts – the ones that told you he paid true attention to you –, choosing to keep talking, “yes, but i still feel kinda scared sometimes.”

he cooed, like you were a cute child. “well, nothing to worry about then,” he says, and leans a bit closer, arm resting on the couch's backrest right behind you. as he winks at you, flirty ways never quite leaving him, he completes “i’m right by your side.”

you huff, sinking further into the couch, knowing him, there's no way you’d win this fight anyway. but your attitude did nothing to distract him from your flustered face and shy demeanor. “whatever, jake. just choose it already,” you mutter, arms crossed and knees to your chest making it all very entertaining for jake to watch.

the movie he chose was coincidentally your favorite horror movie. you loved it because, even though you knew it all by heart, you couldn’t help but flinch at most jumpscares. it was just so good you always got in a trance while watching it. still, it seemed like it wasn't going to happen tonight. you’d catch jake looking at you side eyed and it both intrigued and angered you. you always asked “what?” genuinely curious to know why he couldn’t just focus on the damn movie, but he brushed you off everytime, making it seem like you were just overthinking.

being completely unaware that jake have paid the movie little to no attention, you keep your eyes on the screen. jake uses this moment to appreciate your presence a little. making an effort to not look at you and distract you from your favorite horror show yet again, he becomes more aware of your presence. he then realizes you didn’t move away from him when he put his arm to rest behind you. you were just sitting there, so naturally – like it happens all the time. does this mean you’re comfortable? it has to be it, right? the thought itself catches him off guard, and he doesn’t want to move even for an inch, if that means you won’t move either. by the time the movie ends his body is a bit sore from trying so hard to stay in the same position – he thought it was kind of ridiculous, but that’s just how love is. 

not wanting it all to end just yet he asks you, “do you want to watch another one? we can make popcorn this time…” his eyes pleading, almost like it would physically sting him if you said no.

you look at him with a puzzled look, but nod in agreement regardless. it’s summer break, you don’t have class tomorrow and nothing else to worry about – also, the night sky outside is just begging for another round of spine-chilling story. making your way to the kitchen to make some popcorn for you two, you say “i’ll make popcorn, do you want to choose the next movie too?” giving him the opportunity to do it felt slightly out of character for you, but you can’t deny that his first one was a good choice – not that you’d let him know that, of course.

“no, you can choose now, pretty girl,” he winks at you as he answers, “but thanks, that’s sweet of you.” 

you roll your eyes, thinking you shouldn’t have said anything. “shut up, jake,” is your reply and you feel a bit disappointed by the fact that you couldn’t think of something else – mind unfocusing, wrapped around the way he had just called you a pretty girl. you try to shake it off and once the popcorn is ready you come back to the living room, settling down on the couch’s end by jake’s left side and pressing play in a thriller you’ve been dying to watch. 

he silently hates that you’re not by his side anymore, but he focuses on the movie. mid-way through it jake’s already on edge, his whole body tense as the movie goes on. he hates the suspense more, he thinks. nevertheless, as soon as he looks at you he almost completely forgets about it, mesmerized by how pretty you look right now – just like always. your hair is not covering your face, so he can see all of it – marvel at all of it. but what really catches his attention is the single piece of popcorn you are holding against your lips – that are slightly parted to accommodate it –, probably too lost in the movie’s story to notice you’re still holding it. your eyes are wide and almost puppy-like while looking at the screen and he wonders just how much inner strength he’s using right now to keep himself from kissing you. because, god, you look so kissable and you’re not even doing anything. it’s insufferable. he shakes his head and gets back to watching the movie, trying to get rid of the tension in his body – one that was not really from the thriller’s suspense anymore.

you sense him shifting on the other end of the couch and decide to look over, only to be greeted by a frown and a clenched jaw. he’s not looking at you – must be entranced by the film’s plot and is caught up in stress from wanting it to come to an end, you think –, but he’s looking way too good for your liking. the slight frown in his brows makes you want to soothe it somehow. maybe with a kiss, while you hold his clenched jaw until it’s not there anymore. your eyes snap back to the screen, what are you thinking? 

the rest of the movie is pure torture, for both of you. the tension that fills both your bodies starts to overflow, spilling all over the living room. it’s nearly tangible, really. it forms a dense atmosphere between you, that has nothing to do with the movie and when it is finally over none of you make comments on it – since you both lost the most important parts while exchanging sneaky looks – just whispering goodnight to each other swiftly, before going to bed. once you’re both in your designated rooms, you take a deep breath – may this be the last time you feel so goddamn tempted by him.

DAY 5 - Rock Your Body

as much as you felt like it would never happen again, it did. it’s been 4 days since your movie night and today was supposed to be the day you’d peacefully deep clean your apartment, according to your schedule. but neither you nor jake wanted to face each other, opting to not live the awkward tension all over again. you did it because you didn’t want to even entertain the idea of getting that close to jake ever, he did it because it was all too much for his poor in love heart to handle.

today was hot, to say the least. the blue sky had no clouds to shield you from the sun’s unforgivable brightness and even though you and jake are in the comfort of your home, the white walls of your apartment do nothing to suppress the impending heat that clings into your bodies. you thanked summer for its magical vibes, sure, but not really when you’re trapped at home doing house chores all morning. cleaning your apartment is usually fun since you used the time to just distract your mind from your current problems and just tidy everything up. but it’d be impossible to do it normally, since your major problem of the moment had a first name, last name and lived in the same place as you.

though it would be an annoying task, jake decided to use the day to try and bring his antics to a stop – just for one day – and, as a way to wave a white flag for you, he started by cleaning his own room, and you took the opportunity to clean yours. but as you finished and went for the next spot you both realized that you’d end up together at some point. ignoring that thought, you just kept doing your designated house chores and everything else you needed to, until you both found yourselves in the kitchen. you had already cleaned everything else, the only things missing were the dishes from breakfast and cleaning the counter – both which were completely simple. you took the dishes, while jake was supposed to clean the counter. but he couldn’t concentrate if his life depended on it.

jake freaked out the minute he saw you walk in. why would you choose to wear such revealing clothes today, he couldn’t take his eyes from you – which he tried, because he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. the way your shorts hugged your thighs was a sin itself, but your basically see-through white shirt was what made him fold, the fact that even then his imagination couldn’t possibly feel accurate in the slightest made him weak, he wanted more than just the hint of what’s underneath the fabric. he felt like he needed to do something to leave the losing side – he was feeling like he was falling deeper in a world he wouldn’t survive by himself. so he uses the roasting summer day as an excuse to take his shirt off, wondering why he didn’t do it sooner. the relief was immediate, of course, the sweat that enveloped his skin didn’t have nowhere to stick anymore, and it was a pleasant sensation. but he loved the moment especially because, as soon as he took off his shirt, he heard a cup slide from your hands and hit the sink, softly like you tried really hard to keep it from falling. the smile that adorned his lips was involuntary, but filled with a sense of confidence that extended itself to every other move he made.

you feel all the words that you could possibly say turn into mush at the sight. your mind would be completely empty, if it wasn’t already filled to the brim with thoughts of jake – shirtless, sweaty and fucking hot. he was always handsome, you knew that much, and with his constant work out routine you would imagine that his body was somewhat nicely built, but you fooled yourself into thinking that he’d be average looking. you couldn’t help but stare, completely forgetting your task at hand. why did he take his shirt off? 

you didn’t want him to notice you ogling him so you decided to say something, anything. “ew, jake. put your shirt back on,” was all you could think of, but you didn’t really want him to. the urge to rub your thighs together was getting harder to ignore, so you decided to get back to doing the dishes. jake, on the other hand, was completely amused by your lack of effort in trying to be discreet with your staring, catching you side-eyeing him every five seconds – or maybe, he thought, maybe you just couldn’t help it. the idea of having this kind of effect on you makes him feel like he was responsible for the summer day, the heat spreading on his body and gathering in his abdomen, the sensation just as if he had several butterflies moving in his stomach.

“oh yeah, ‘cause you really want me to cover up, right?” he laughs and turns on his back to resume his own task, but still talking, “pretend all you want, i know that you’d love me walking around shirtless all day.”

“oh my god, you just never know when to shut up, do you?” you say, annoyed that he was pointing it out so matter-of-factly. to remain at least a bit of your composure you decide to put your earphones on and ignore his existence. though, nothing could take you away from the fact that he was you getting all hot and bothered and he was only standing there and looking good – much more than he should, for his own fucking good.

but jake’s unable to let you grasp the peace of mind you crave so much, and decides to throw through the window all thoughts he had earlier about ‘bringing his antics to a stop’, “what are you listening to?” he asks, actually curious. to know what’s your taste in music is to know you better, and he is all for it

“justin timberlake…” you saying, trying to keep your distance. you were already half-way done with your task, doing it as quickly as you could to go to your room. you’re in much need of a shower to cool the fuck down.

“are you serious?” he chuckles, what kind of person listens to JT to clean the house? he doesn’t ask that though, instead he asks, “which song?” pointing to your earphones. “take them off, so i can judge you properly.”

“what makes you think i’m gonna let you talk shit about my music choices?” but you were already taking it off your ears and disconnecting it from your phone – nonchalantly like you weren’t just contracting him –, replaying the song so he could listen to it from the start. your body moving automatically, the desire to please him taking over.

“really? ‘rock your body’?” he shakes his head, but even you could see that he was joking. he loved the song, he had danced to it many times with a drunk jay in their parties. but, instead of dropping the act, he uses it to tease you more, “i would understand if it were ‘mirrors’ or something, but ‘rock your body’ is just a biased choice, really.”

you can’t hold your laughter to save your life. “what the fuck? what does that even mean?” and when you turn to him, you lose it. he had a serious expression on his face and his lips were pressed in a thin line, like it was the most serious topic on the earth. you really don’t know if it is the sum of everything or if he’s just really funny, but your laughter increases. you bend over the sink slightly, trying to find the balance you lost from your cackles. jake tries his best to keep a straight face but then he sees you and gives in, laughing too – it was impossible not to, you looked so chill at the moment he didn’t want to miss it. and it stays like that for what feels like many minutes, you two laughing and trying your hardest to catch your breath – but failing miserably.

once you calm down, a small smile on both your faces and your chest heaving from the lack of oxygen, you resume your tasks. almost forgetting that you were thirsting over each other just moments ago, the silence that falls between you two is comfortable. but jake didn’t want to keep it that way, so he sighs comically and says, “didn’t know it was that easy to have you laughing like that.”

“it’s not easy, you’re just a complete idiot and i can’t help but find it amusing,” you say, chuckling softly.

as he finishes cleaning the counter, which really shouldn't have taken this long, he smirks at you sentence. “oh, so i amuse you, huh?” his eyebrows wiggling suggestively. 

you had just finished the dishes as well and were drying your hands in the dishtowel, but the moment you heard his words you threw it at jake’s direction with no second thought. he catches it effortlessly and starts to walk in your direction. “you should really learn when to be quiet…” you say, and you meant it to be harsh, but your voice is wavering. his tall and broad frame was closer than you were used to and the fact that he was still shirtless wasn’t helping your situation at all. suddenly, you were hyperconscious of the extremely hot day and how it made you body warm – and possibly his too, and you wanted very much to know just how much –, the way lips parted as he looked at you, the way he towered over you and the way his eyes seemed darker now, up close – the way his chest stuttered when he finally trapped you in your position, leaning in the sink counter.

“you always say that, but i never see you make any effort to shut me up,” he says, but his voice is low, like he’s sharing a secret – a dark and seductive one. “isn’t that what you want, princess? to shut me up?”

your heart is racing, but your mind is rather calm. even though you want to deny it, you know what he was hinting at, and you want it. you crave it. “yes…” you say, voice just like a whisper, a plea.

“yeah?” he says, and closes the distance between you, clearly affected by your small, but important, confession. his warm body – warmer than yours, you notice – presses into yours ever so slightly, like he didn’t want to startle you – like you were in a dream and neither of you wanted to wake up. his right hand moved to cup your cheek, holding your face with all the worship he has ever known in life, eyes filled – overflowing – with yearning. “you can do it, baby. ”

but he wasn’t proposing, it wasn’t a suggestion. he was encouraging you to do it – egging you to go ahead and fucking kiss him, challenging you to give in. your pout comes involuntarily, the movement small but attracting his eyes to your lips – your pretty and really fucking temptable lips. knowing you can’t refuse it – knowing you don’t want to –, you tilt your head up. his reply comes immediately, coming down to brush your lips together eagerly. your voice can barely be called a whisper when you speak, “shit, jake… you know i want to.”

the way his name leaves your lips so beautifully – so appealing – makes his knees buckle. he suppresses a moan, mind going overdrive at the fact you just so openly confessed your wish – because he knew what it meant, how much it meant. then his left hand pulls you closer by your waist, as he does it he swears you can listen to the way his heart beats desperately in his chest. and you are so engrossed in the moment, so wrapped up in the suffocating tension between you that when your phone buzzes and starts ringing on the counter next to you, you both jolt. the sound sharp, cutting through whatever you two were just sharing and it takes you a moment to come to your senses.

picking your phone up, you hardly have the strength to talk, but you voice it regardless, “it’s jay…” and jake only nods, saving all words of disappointment for when he gets his turn to talk to jay, privately. you pick the video call up and wait for jay to greet you, not bothering to go to your room. jake barely moves an inch, he wants to know if you’ll try to push him away once jay sees you two. oddly enough, you don’t do it.

“hey! how’re you doing? is that jake next to you? great, i wanted to talk with you both! have you had lunch yet?” jay’s voice sounds like a rap song. he was so excited to talk to you after four whole days of not listening to your voice.

and as the conversation goes on and both you and jake catch up with a very observant jay, you come to terms that maybe – just maybe – you were eager for the next opportunity you’d get to have jake so close – maybe to finally kiss him, even if you’re interrupted.

DAY 11 - Baby Blue Movie

you didn't think this day would come, but you couldn't wait to get home. ever since the day you almost kissed jake, you decided to go out more – alone preferably. but not even then you could escape him completely. sometimes he was a better company than people you were related to. after spending an afternoon at your mother's house, your energy was completely drained. sure, you loved your family, but you can't ignore disrespect. your mother's childhood was completely different from yours and it's obvious that it would have repercussions in your adulthood, considering that she always voiced that she knew – within maternal standards – what was best for you. and it gets tiring, you lost count of how many times you tried to make her understand your point of view and now you just ignored her complaints – usually successfully, but today it unfortunately didn’t happen.

as you unlock the door, you pray that jake isn't in his playful mode. it would be extremely hard to deal with it today, but when you enter the house and take off your shoes, you can't fool yourself. he was already leaning against the wall that separated the entrance of the house from the living room, a tiny smile on his face and a sarcastic comment on the tip of his tongue. you mentally prepare yourself not to explode at him. after all, he wasn't to blame for anything – he couldn’t possibly be aware of the horrible day you just had. you don’t even greet him as you try to make your way to your room. but he doesn’t move an inch. with lack of something else in mind, you stop in front of him, waiting for him to say whatever lame joke he thought, already thinking of a possible retort. the whole time he watches you – your pretty face contorted in a serious expression he's not usually used to – he thinks that, maybe, you’re mad at him, but he can’t think of something he could have done to make you angry like that. he doesn’t want to overthink anything, so he decides to break the silence. "did… something happen?" voice silent, soothing, like you would bleed if he sounded hostile – or even indifferent, actually. 

and, god, you wanted to yell at him. scream with all the pent up stress you endured all day, because how dare he speak to you like that? like you are fragile, like you need to be taken care of – like he needs to take care of you. the thought of being the object of his tenderness infuriates you. to be seem like you lack affection to the point you’d accept his nice words and gentle eyes. because you would never do that, no. you wouldn’t just give in because he was being kind to you for the first time since you met. but, god, did you want to. with jay’s absence you had no one else – which was kind of depressing, but you didn’t really mind – and with jake’s constant attempts in making you open up to him, it got increasingly harder to not let your guard down. because god knows how hard you’ve been trying to keep your distance, but after today’s stressful events you just wanted some sort of display of affection – something to remind you that you matter and that you are deserving of love just like anyone else is – and the fact that you received it with no second thought apparent from jake made you weak. it made you want to fight him to remain some sort of composure but also apologize for ever misjudging him – apologize for thinking he wouldn’t comfort you at all. but you didn’t do either of those. instead, you look down at your feet taking a deep, shaky breath, murmuring an almost inaudible “yeah… it did, actually.”

nothing could have prepared him for that. he genuinely thought you would brush him off and go to your room. he could have even been fine if a mean, snarky remark came out of your mouth, like it usually happens. but, you didn’t – why didn’t you? why would you answer him honestly and looking so goddamn helpless, like you were in much need of a hug. and for a second, that was precisely what he went to do. however, giving in to those impulses felt like overstepping a boundary, and that was the last thing he wanted to do, especially now that you were letting him see you vulnerable – even if it’s barely. so he tried to not look so terrified of this new territory and went with what felt most secure, wanting to reassure you somehow. “do you want to talk about it?” his voice is casual and steady, like it happens every week and he can perfectly deal with it – except it doesn’t and he can’t, the thought of you allowing him any close to you emotionally makes him dizzy, eager and feeling rather protective.

“shit…” you chuckle inevitably. he was supposed to drop the subject and yet here he is, still trying to get to you. but you try to keep yourself grounded, all your anger and stress has dissipated into pure sadness so far, if he pushes any further you’ll cry. and as you look for a way to put out what is going on in your mind, he wonders what had happened, considering he never saw you like that before. he was ready to hunt down to the gates of hell whoever dragged you to that state. “uh, no,” you sigh. “actually, it would be– yeah. well– ” you stumble over words, another frustrated sigh leaves your mouth and your hands come to face, hiding the obvious emotion written all over it. when you look back at him your eyes are already teary, your hands shake a little as you bring them down, your lips wobbly. you manage to let out a broken “i don’t know, jake…” but by the time you sniffle, about to let your tears stream down your face, jake is right on you. 

his left arm circling your middle pulling you towards him, his right hand on the back of your head tucking your face in his chest and, as he tightly hugs you for a few seconds, he keeps on saying “it’s fine, okay? it doesn’t matter, princess.” so lovingly, it does the job of distracting you from your little meltdown. you notice the way the hug feels so intimate, like it was a forbidden thing to do and you two created a bubble to hide from the world and savour the moment. and it made sense you felt that way, because jake was actually hugging you right now. and you were crying. you were crying in front of jake sim – being comforted by him – and you didn’t care at all. actually, now that you have done all the things you said you weren’t going to, what’s another one, right? that’s what’s in your mind as your arms come to his waist, not to push him away but to further drown yourself in his embrace, taking in his scent. 

and as you two stand there, the dream-like golden beams of light due to the sunset passing through the curtain’s delicate material, your arms around him so willingly and your crying coming down to a halt, jake doesn’t think he could be more content. his heart hurting in his chest knowing that you’re not okay, but also beating as fast as ever before since you’re right there. just so, so close to him, in a way he never thought you'd allow him to. and then he laughs, just a bit, but he can’t help it. and you laugh too, wholeheartedly. because you cannot deny yourself the fact that you too felt content, even though you’re crying and he’s doing that just for the sake of comforting you. but that's precisely what makes it so important – is his effort in doing so the best way he can.

DAY 18 - WA-R-R

you woke up feeling great. it has been so nice to actually have a full break from college, you have time to do all the things you like without worrying about anything. well, almost anything. it’s been a week since the crying incident happened and you two never brought it up again. jake was okay with it. he thought you didn’t want to talk about any of it, since once you felt lighter you just quietly apologized for crying on him like you did and went to your room. but you didn’t know that, and you were starting to feel like a burden. you needed to properly thank him for comforting you, but you had no idea how.

it was currently a quarter past three in the afternoon and you were boiling on your couch from the heat. jake had left for the gym right after lunch and you had nothing to do, beginning to feel unsettled from the boredom. deciding on doing something productive, you take a shower and get dressed to go to the supermarket. you were out of a few things and it would be nice to leave the house and enjoy the weather, despite the fact that you’d much rather go to the beach. once ready, you go to the kitchen to check if you weren’t forgetting anything so you could add to the list, that’s when you hear the front door opening. jake walks in just a few seconds later, eyes roaming over your figure as he immediately catches the scent of your favorite perfume – are you going somewhere? 

his black fit – sleeveless compression shirt and loose dri-fit shorts – knocked the air out of your lungs, but you didn’t have time for that. “i’m going grocery shopping, do you want something?” you ask, pretending to still check the cupboards.

“yeah, actually. but i think it’s best if i go with you…” he says casually, like he wasn’t dying to have a domestic day with you – going to the market, choosing what you’re going to do for dinner, helping you carry the grocery bags. “you know…? so you won’t buy anything wrong.”

you scoff, turning to look at him. “you’re projecting, you know i wouldn’t mistake your protein bars or whatever,” you say, rolling your eyes and propping yourself on the counter. you glance at him for a moment, taking in his appearance. faking a mix of disgust and judgment on your face, you point towards his clothes. “are you going like that?”

he checks himself, like he didn’t know what could be wrong with his outfit, and with a confused look on his face he says, “well, yes. why wouldn’t i?”

you arch your brows mockingly, shrugging. “i don’t know. you tell me, jake,” and then you chuckle from your teasing.

he rolls his eyes, feeling dumb for not realizing sooner that you were just messing with him – like always. “you’re so annoying, what the hell…” he murmurs, suppressing an amused laugh and completes, “come on, let’s go in my car.”

his car smelled like him, the woody perfume he would usually wear was everywhere – you failed to notice that the first time you rode with him. as you put the seatbelt on and he starts the car, he says “do you want to put some music on?” giving you his phone and driving off your apartment’s garage.

“sure, what do you wanna listen to?” you ask, rolling through his playlist. the ride to the store was actually short, but a little music is always nice to have. 

“whatever, you can press play on random,” he answers, eyes locked on the streets ahead. just as he finished speaking, he heard the soft beat of a korean r&b melody starting to play very lowly. he went to turn up the volume, only for his hand to bump into yours – you were going to turn the volume up a bit as well, after resting his phone on your thighs. 

a beat of awkward silence passes by and you two sneak a glance between each other. after laughing a bit embarrassed you softly say, “sorry, i was just gonna turn it up a bit.” moving your hand back to your lap.

he chuckles, without really knowing what to do he turns the volume up himself, saying “no, it’s okay. i was going to do the same.”

the song takes over the silence, its nicely tuned vocals filling the space, and you can’t help but share, “i love this song…” your voice is peaceful as you speak.

jake loves the comment, loves that you’re the one starting the small talk. “really? i thought you were more of a 2000s pop type of girl…” he says, bringing back that fact that you were listening to justin timberlake a few days ago.

you smile, “yeah, that too. but there’s nothing quite like korean r&b,” you reply, shrugging your shoulders. and it felt so nice to be comfortable around him, to talk like you do with jay – like you’ve known him for years.

“i mean, you’re right. but i’m suspicious, i was born in korea, so…” he trails off, and as you two feed the conversation more and more with small details of your life, he can only thank his complete genius idea of following you everywhere – it in fact did pay off, eventually.

when you get to the supermarket, the whole shopping process is actually very quick, you buy the essentials and all the things that were in your list, jake buys a lot of barley tea bottles and you two decide that italian food was the best option for dinner today, so you buy everything you need to make pasta – you also have to decide which bottle of wine you were going to buy and that itself takes most of your time, both finding joy in fake disagreeing with each other. after getting to the checkout and paying for your purchases, you and jake walk back to the car and settle everything to ride back home. 

once at home you ask jake to put some music on the TV so you could unpack the groceries and start cooking dinner. surprised that you were offering to make dinner – knowing that usually he’s the one to make dinner and you make lunch – he asks, “why are you so willing saying that you’re gonna make our dinner today?” his voice accusing and wary, like you about to prank him. approaching you after putting on the same playlist that was playing in the car, he starts to help you unpack the grocery bags that were scattered on the counter. 

“can’t a girl feel like cooking twice in a day?” you say, purely to tease him, because after letting out a little laugh you add up almost instantly, “i just wanted to, i don’t know, thank you for being so nice to me the other day.”

“the other day? which day?” he was confused, it was pretty visible by his frown and inquiring voice.

you sigh, not wanting to extend the subject, but clarifying anyway, mumbling “the day that i cried in front of you…”

his realization comes quickly, a soft “ah!” leaving his lips. nevertheless, he didn’t want you to think that it was anything other than the bare minimum – you didn’t have to make him a meal just because you felt like you needed to pay him back. both of you knew that he had no second intentions when he comforted you. “you know, you don’t have to–” he starts, but you interrupt him.

“i know, i know. but i really want to,” you say, voice steady like you practiced the speech all week – which you did, but that was nothing but a small detail, he didn’t have to know. “i want to show that i’m grateful somehow, so just let me.”

he just nods, pleased that your communication was improving. dinner time was really nice, you two shared a bottle of wine, talked a lot about how your music taste was actually similar and how cooking can be a fun activity once you grow comfortable with it – you were both kind of tipsy at that point.

as he helps you tidy up the kitchen, he cherished the evening you had. it was nice to know that you started to share a bond now, even if you still tried to keep your distance somehow. “thanks, for the dinner,” he says, cheeks flushed both from the alcohol and from the way you were so close to him, drying the dishes as he washed them.

you hummed, feeling sleepy from the alcohol and tired from the day. you lay your head on his shoulder – as much as you can with the height difference – and answer, “it was nice, right? we should do it again some day.”

jake can only laugh as he shakes his head – you were just too cute. “yeah… we should.”

DAY 23 - Let Go

you couldn’t be happier, today was finally the day you were going to the beach. as you got your things ready, you talked to jake about how dumb it was for you to have delayed this for so many days. jake has the idea of making some snacks and you help him do everything. throughout all the time that it takes for you and jake to make sandwiches and pack your beach bag and his backpack with everything you were going to need, you were talking nonstop. it was inevitable with the way you started to get along the past few days since your dinner together, honestly. you were also much more at ease in his presence, so you started to share a few more wholesome moments. still, he judges your choices for two piece bikinis and you say it was best if he didn’t take his shirt off – to save people’s sanity – and you fight over which snacks you were going to take in your little trip. it was all really fun, you could never try to deny that. once everything was ready, you two got ready to go.

the ride to the beach was rather calm. the music in the background was soothing and the beach you chose to go to wasn't far from your place, so jake drove you there and in less than an hour you were in the sand, sitting on your beach mat. the day was summery just like the others that have passed, only this time you could sunbathe and swim – a perfect day, you would say. jake was sitting by your side, watching you put on sunscreen – admiring you, that was more like it.

when you’re done, he points towards the sunscreen bottle on your hand and doesn't think twice before asking, “can you do my face and back?” he watches your concentrated face, but it doesn't change a bit, you stay expressionless. he tries again, “please…?”

you grimace, and move to sit face to face with him. “what? you can’t do it?” you ask, but it’s not really a criticism.

he laughs, and flicks your forehead. “of course i can, you brat. it’s just better if you do it,” he says, like it’s so obvious and you fake a look of disgust. he adds, “i can’t miss a chance to have your hands all over me, baby,” and winks.

you roll your eyes, but start to apply some sunscreen on his face, answering, “shut up and close your eyes, loverboy.” you use the moment to take in his appearance, closed eyes and parted lips from his talking. he was always so beautiful for you, you wished you could let him know in a way that didn’t felt like you were putting your heart in his hands – which was impossible, because that was the only kind of fondness you knew with him, devotion.

he does what you tell him, closing his eyes, but he keeps on talking – a smile on his face all throughout it. “you can’t push me away, princess. i know how your mind works by now,” his voice filled with enjoyment.

“yeah, yeah. i know, jake, you say that everyday,” you reply, but you're smiling too. finding joy in his words, but oblivious to how evident his feelings were. “okay, face done. now i’m gonna put it on your back, turn around for me, please.”

he turns around, his eyes glinting with unmistakable affection from your disponibility to do it for him – the way you ask him ‘please’ sticks to his mind a little more than it's considered healthy. once you’re done he gets up on his feet and holds your hand. “come on, we’re going in the sea.”

“woah there, loverboy. i know you need me to do everything with you, but at least wait until the sunscreen soaks in.” you say, and use the fact that he was still holding your hand to push him down to sit by your side once again.

he complies, his thigh brushing against your as he settles down next to you. you both take in the view. the sea is rather calm, the waves seem to crash slowly. the sun is unforgiving, but in a pleasant way, and the eventual breeze that hits your bodies is a nice way to recover from the heat. you don’t realize that you’re still holding hands, but jake is very aware of the act. so much so he fights the urge to stroke his thumb along your hand, so that you won’t grow annoyed from his display of affection. it’s not until an old lady passes by, selling handmade bracelets, that you notice just how close you guys are to each other.

the woman stops by you two and asks, very fondly, “oh, hello, young man. would you want to buy a bracelet for your girlfriend?” she’s pointing at you, and oddly enough you don’t feel like correcting her. in fact, you don’t say anything, you just smile at the lady and turn to look at jake, waiting to see what he’ll do.

“oh, yes! do you have matching ones?” he asks her, paying you no attention. his response comes immediately, and you’re caught off guard at just how natural it came to him – like you were actually boyfriend and girlfriend, like it wasn’t even a thing to consider in the first place.

they get into a conversation about her process of making the bracelets and how much they cost, eventually he buys two – only then he lets go of hand, because he needed to pay the old woman – and she thanks your attention as both of you wave her goodbye.

your head snaps in his direction. giving him a quizzed look, you don’t even have to say anything for him to speak, “look, it wasn’t going to change anything in her life if we said we weren’t together. if anything we’d just make her ashamed of her mistake…” his voice is quiet, like you’d argue with him for what he did. 

but you don’t. in fact, you just say, “i’m surprised by how easily you played along, but i’m not gonna kill you. relax,” you’re chuckling, and you add “i didn’t get to see which ones you bought…”

he stares at you, dumbfounded. “what?” he asks, wondering if he heard you wrong. were you just letting that slide? like he just didn’t pretend you were his girlfriend to a total stranger? weren’t you the one who refused to let him close? “did you enjoy being my girlfriend, is that it?” he teases, but he’s not joking. he actually wants to know this time, he needs the rest it’ll provide him.

you cough, choking a bit. what should you do? did you enjoy it? you’re not sure, but for some reason you didn’t want him to think you didn’t. not only because upsetting him felt so mean of you, but because you realized that you weren’t opposed to the idea of dating him. “god, don’t make it weird and let me see the bracelets…” you say, changing the subject. but decided to mumble in addition,  “if i didn’t say anything, it means that i didn’t mind.”

he smiles, and it outshines the sun. jake wasn’t one to be pessimistic, but he often opted for a more realistic approach when it came to you, so to see you opening up like that – letting him genuinely see you and understand you – made his body shiver with anticipation of what you’d share next. he senses your will to not deep dive into the matter so he gives into your wishes to see the bracelets. “here, give me your hand so i can put it on you…” he says, but he can barely control his excitement. he ties the bracelet in your wrist and asks for you to do the same for him, both of you admiring the colorful object that now was a reminder of a thing only you two shared. you fall into a nice, comfortable silence. the unspoken feelings surrounding you but not in a scary way, the sounds of the waves crashing doing nothing to drown your rapid heartbeats. in moments like these you question just how much you should try to keep jake away, only for you to choose not to do it at all – you were just letting it flow, it would pain you more to pretend you didn’t like what was growing between you. 

and that’s just how the day goes. you swim in the sea and share your snacks, it truly feels like a beach episode from your favorite anime. once you get back home, the tiredness from the long day – even though it was fun and uplifting – sinks in. after you and jake have straightened things up and showered, you both decide to settle on the couch.

you were hardly registering the movie that was playing on the screen. jake had his hand on your head, fingers mindlessly scratching your scalp, a loving gesture that only pushed you closer to sleep. as you started to drift off, your head found its way to jake’s shoulder, face hiding on his neck. jake gasped at the proximity, but after a few seconds he adjusted you on his body, hugging your waist. before either of you could realize, the two of you had already fallen asleep.

DAY 35 - All Mine

when jake wakes up, he’s a mess. he feels his hair sticking on his forehead due to his sweat. his legs feel shaky, his boxers sticky and his heart is hammering in his ribcage. it takes him a few moments to realize that he’s laying in his bed, having fallen asleep with you the night before while you two played cards late at night. the next thing he realizes is that you’re no longer with him. he checks his phone, it’s half past eight in the morning. he slumps back on the mattress, right hand coming down to palm the evident erection on his sleeping shorts, cock still hard despite the fact that he had clearly cummed during his sleep. he had woken up from a very messy, very erotic dream, his breath was calming down as he took in his surroundings, but his mind was still in a haze from the vivid memories from his dream – where you and him did all the things he craved to do to you. his right hand’s grip tightens around his clothed girth, his arousal growing while he feeds his imagination, thinking just how cute you’d look with your eyes tight such and your mouth hanging open as your lips let out the most beautiful sounds of his name, while he’s buried inside–.

he sits up, instantly. he couldn’t act like he lived alone, and even though he very much wanted to get off right now, he wouldn’t want to have you walk in on him – well, he wouldn’t mind if he felt like you would be okay with it, but he couldn’t know if that was the case. the past few days were wonderful, he loved every second of it. you and him were growing closer and closer, to the point you did everything together. after the day you spent on the beach, both of you decided to start hanging out more often. you did all sorts of things – you even did go back to the beach, going to a drive-in that was happening nearby – and it was starting to get hard to avoid the inevitable. jake was beginning to break, the time you’ve been spending together only further pushing him to his darkest, most lust-filled thoughts. he wondered if you felt the same, or if he was just another homie to you. if you want him the way he wants you it shouldn’t be hard to notice, right? he thinks that he should pay more attention to your body language, to see if you give him any opening to tumble over the edge of the hanging tension. but then he wonders, where are you anyway? intrigued, he leaves his room to look for you, only to find an empty house. you weren’t anywhere to be found, neither in the kitchen nor in your room. he sits on the couch, and as he was about to text you to know your whereabouts he hears the clicking of the keys on the front door. he sits back, checking his bulge briefly – that had subsided considerably – and waits for you to show up, fingers interlaced, his hands resting on his lap.

you had woken up pretty early and decided to buy strawberry cheesecake for breakfast at a bakery nearby and some coffee at your favorite coffee shop, choosing to not text jake because you thought you’d be back before he woke up – which clearly did not happen. when you see him sitting on the couch you stop, standing comically – awkwardly – at the hall that separates the living room from the kitchen.

“hi, you’re up,” you state, looking at him – eyes roaming over his figure, he seemed sus. not waiting for his answer you turn left, walking towards the kitchen counter to settle what you bought for breakfast.

jake is hot on your tail, replying, “where have you been, huh?” his tone is playful, but you can tell he’s actually curious to know.

“uh… i don’t see how it concerns you?” you answer, teasingly. your smile the most genuine it could ever be, since jake with his ‘recently woken up’ look was the cutest. then you add, “i bought coffee, and cheesecake.”

“oh god, yes! love me some sweets in the morning,” he says, settling down at the counter while eyeing your figure – the fabric of your jeans shorts seemingly sinfully pretty around your thighs, your baby blue crop top making him want to ogle your breasts. were you always this hot? “uh, thanks for bringing coffee for me too…”

“don’t mention it,” you say, at last. sitting down on his side you two start to eat, then you remember something. “hey, how did you sleep? i woke up in the middle of the night and went to my room. sorry, if i woke you.”

jake feels relief wash over his entire figure to know you weren’t there if he made any suggestive sounds during his sleep. “actually, i’m a heavy sleeper, so you wouldn’t wake me like that,” he answers and after pausing for a few seconds he finishes, “i slept ok, without crazy dreams or whatever.”

you laugh, his words seeming rushed for you and oddly explanatory, which was out of character of him – especially since he was so slow in the mornings. was he nervous? “ok, jake. if you say so…” you say, just for the sake of getting on his nerves – and maybe to get him to say something about what really happened.

“yah! what are you suggesting? i slept like a baby, ok? with baby dreams…” he states, defensively. and you laugh harder, your hand coming to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle at least some of it – which didn’t happen.

in between your gasps for air, you say, “oh, so you dreamed of unicorns and princesses then.” your teasing sentence only half well delivered, since you were still trying to recover from your fit of laughter.

jake’s mind was racing while he nervously tried to change the subject. however, in between his thoughts of his not exactly baby-like dream, he lets out the first thing that comes to his mind, “if you’d call yourself princess, then i guess you could say that, yeah…” he says, his voice sounding playful. you stall, confusion written all over your face.

“wait, does that mean you- did you dream about me?” you ask, incredulous. you brows coming together to emphasize the chaos that was your mind at his statement. he laughs, shaking his head, truly amazed at how easily he gave himself in. knowing that there was no denying what he said just now, he only nods, taking yet another slice of the cheesecake you were sharing. but you had long forgotten how to eat, in fact you don’t think you can do anything else at the moment. 

letting your curiosity speak louder you decide to try your luck. “what… did you dream about?” you ask, voice small despite its certainty. you decide to not look at him, eyeing the plate in front of you as he ate the last piece of the cheesecake. you take a sip of your coffee.

“you, duh,” he says matter-of-factly, and laughs like you weren’t dying from not knowing. “why do you want to know, anyway? does it matter that much, princess?” his tongue brushes the inside of his cheek, trying to suppress the smirk threatening to take place in his lips. the situation’s much more entertaining than he initially thought it would be. 

“oh my god, you’re so annoying,” you huff and get up, making your way to the sink to wash the dishes you just used. he stares at you, amused at the tantrum your throwing over something he thought you’d just brush off, probably just making a comment about how in love he’s in with you – jokingly, of course.

“okay, okay. i’ll tell you, alright?” he says, bringing his hands up as if surrendering to you. you stop what you’re doing just to turn your head to him slightly. you eye him, an unreadable expression in your face and he chuckles a bit – he really does like you. at last, he says “i dreamed i got hurt in a zombie apocalypse and you left me behind…” his voice is obviously playful, but you fail to realize he was being ironic.

so you only sigh, your lips forming an involuntary pout as you hummed in acknowledgement, turning back to dry your hands after you finished your task. his answer breaks your expectations, leaving you confused as to why you thought he’d say something else – why you wanted him to say something else. maybe it was the way he was staring at you since you arrived, or the way he seemed so nervous talking about his dream, you thought maybe it meant he saw you in a way that wasn’t just ‘his roommate’. but, maybe it was all in your head anyways.

he comes behind, not touching you whatsoever, his hands finding their place at the counter in front of you the same time you finish your task – and he realizes he’s feeling oddly familiar with the situation, like a deja vu. he whispers then, voice seductive and full of intentions, “did you want me to say that i had a erotic dream?” his question catches you off guard, you use your now free hands to support yourself at the edge of the sink. you head falls to your shoulder, eyes closing as a sigh passes your lips. fuck, why is he dirty talking to you all of sudden? why do you like it? you decide that all your doubts and worries are for the future you to deal with, right now you just want to know how far this can go. still, you can help the nervousness that gets a hold of your demeanor. shaking your head, you start, “n-no, that’s not it, why would you–”

but jake was not having it. he cuts you off mid-sentence, face coming closer to your ear, lips brushing over it ever so slightly while he whispers lowly – as if you were in a room filled with people and he only wanted you to hear –, “are you really going to lie to me like that, baby?” and just like that you’re speechless, but that doesn’t matter one bit, because jake keeps on talking, “i dreamed you were underneath me doing all sort of cute noises while i fucked you on my bed. is that what you expected me to say? or was that pout on your pretty lips for another reason, princess?”

“w-what…?” you utter, confused. he’s getting to you too damn fast for your liking – your panties growing damp at the thought of him having a wet dream about you. you speak your mind, “what the fuck, jake? how can you say things like that…”

“like what? so directly? you know i’m not one to play games, princess,” he says and uses the little switch of topic to spin you around. his hands find your waist to urge you to face him and you comply, but you don’t look into his eyes yet, embarrassment having a tight grip around you. so his right hand comes to your face and you barely feel his fingers as he tilts your chin up softly, bringing you to face him so he can lock eyes with you, his hand falling to your waist a second after. his gaze is intense, filled with emotion – one you’re yet to allow yourself to admit aloud you reciprocate. the silence starts to grow bothersome so you decide to voice your thoughts once again, not really expecting this moment to turn into a heart to heart conversation – but honestly, you love that jake provides this for you.

“i know. but, you’re making me nervous,” you confide in a mumble, fidgeting fingers on your back but you don’t break eye contact – your puppy eyes fucking jake’s mind up. he knows what you mean, you’ve talked about this before. you’re not one to let people in, so to have him so casually stripping you out of your comfort zone can be really stressing – it doesn’t mean you don’t want him to, though.

jake cuckles, he does think you’re adorable from time to time – everyday – and he’s determined to make you comfortable with what you want – well, that being him – so he makes a point of saying, “that’s cute, princess. you’re only nervous because you keep refraining yourself from doing what you want…” he says, almost melodically. “and i know very well that you want me.”

there’s a knowing glint in his eyes and you know he knows, that’s what your relationship was always about – he’s been obvious about his desires, you were the one who poorly attempted to deny it. so you sigh defeated, as you watch his pretty eyes and easy smile. you touch his arms, hands traveling up to his cheeks where you leave a soft squeeze with your palms, squishing them together. you both let out a giggle, then your fingers intertwin on his nape, your body closing the distance between you and him. 

jake is not surprised that you took the initiative, but he couldn’t believe that it was actually happening. his heart is beating unforgivingly in his chest, it aches the best kind of pain and he lets out a sound of relief, pleasure and pure fulfillment. his hands grips your waist harder trying to ground himself, but nothing is enough – he is losing all self control and he couldn’t care less. because your hands were on his neck, nails scratching lovingly the back of his head, your chest pressed on his and your lips passionately kissing him – having you on his hands for him to touch and hold was messing with his head. the kiss that takes place is outstanding, it makes both you and him breathless way too quickly. you pull away first, your teeth prodding your bottom lip for a moment before jake is on you again.

this kiss is much more devastating than the first one, when your tongues meet you can hardly contain the whine that tries to leave your lips, but maybe it’s the way jake shoves you against the counter behind you that knocks the air out of your lungs. none of you know how long you stay making out, your fingers interlace on jake’s locks and he anticipates the moment you will pull it, but you don’t. he grows impatient, hands sliding from your waist to your hips, where he squeezes hard, then he pushes himself from you, interrupting the kiss in the middle. you’re panting, chest heaving and lips red and swollen from the kissing, the sight making heat spread all over his body and his arousal only increases, the bulge on his pants begging to be simulated and he wonders how affected you are by all of this. despite the hot feeling of your hasty breath, nothing really gives away your inner state. and you try to keep it that way, but your mind is foggy and you can barely form coherent thoughts aside from the burning lust, that’s all you can discern. you thought you could be stronger when it came to your sexual desires, but jake fucks up all your attempts in keeping a composed attitude. because you wanted nothing more than to let go and be led, to allow him to do whatever he wanted to. that’s how much you trusted him, how much you craved him.

you’re so lost in your submissive reverie that you fail to realize that jake actually said something. it isn’t until his hands cups your cheeks that your attention turns to him.

“hm…?” you hum and it’s supposed to be a question, but you can really say something else. he understands, though, slowly catching on to what your behaviour meant. 

testing the waters, he asks “do you want to go upstairs, baby?” softly, trying not to sound like you had to. you nod, eagerly so, making him smile, tilting his head to the side. “you’re much too quiet, princess,” he says, his smile fading to a smirk as continued, “go on, use your words.”

the way he says it is borderline condescending. the patronizing superiority twists your insides and your heart rate speeds up, a familiar feeling making its way to your stomach like butterflies. you curse every cell in your body for being so responsive. you focus on the fact that it’s a simple question, one he already knows the answer to. “yes…” you voice out, not without stuttering and jake is amazed. 

he pushes further, wanting to strip every layer of this newfound trait of yours. “huh? yes what, princess?” and it’s a trap, because he’s not expecting anything specific, you may or may not know what to answer, it doesn’t matter because jake is doing it with the sole purpose of teasing you.

but you don’t know that, and even if everything in you is telling you to address him with a respectful honorific, you also don’t want to give him the satisfaction of winning that so easily, so you do what’s best, you play innocent. “yes, i wanna go upstairs,” your voice sounding much more controlled and with barely any sides of your emerging submissiveness.

jake laughs at your answer, eyes scanning you with unmistaken amusement. he shakes his head, grabbing your hand as he speaks, “you’re impossible.”

he uses your intertwined fingers to pull you with him, all the way until you’re passing through his bedroom door. once inside, he sits on the end of his bed, hands coming to your hips as he looks up at you. that’s when everything sinks in. nothing could’ve prepared you for the devastating reality that you’re a moment away from letting jake undress you – letting him fuck you. his alluring presence drowns your senses, you want nothing else than to please him. 

he sees it in your eyes, so he feels obligated to act on it. “come sit, princess,” he says and pulls you to his lap. you fall right after, thighs finding their place on his sides as your hands touch his chest. “you’re so pretty,” his hands are caressing your waist under the fabric of your shirt. “so, so pretty,” he adds, placing kisses on your cheeks, and then your neck. “makes me want to ruin you all the time,” he pulls you even closer, the motion making your hips collide with his. his dick impossibly hard underneath you, you fists his shirt at the feeling. he started to leave hickeys on your skin, his path well marked as he love bites his way to the valley of your breasts. you can feel the smirk on his lips as he trails kisses on your skin, but you are engrossed in the intoxicating feeling of his hands traveling up your body. when you realize, he’s already taking your top off, eyes shamelessly falling to your naked torso. “you always leave the house without a bra on?” he asks, not really accusing you of anything, his hands instantly coming to grope them, thumbs tenderly flicking your nipples and your response is almost embarrassingly quick. you’re taken by surprise, a soft moan slips past your lips and your hips grind on him. he appreciates the sound, his dick twitching in his sleeping shorts as he squeezes your boobs harder. 

you answer him, voice coming weaker than you expected as you speak, “no… not really.” you have your hands sliding under his shirt, pulling the fabric with you as you feel the warm skin of his chest on your palms, you want to see him too. “can you… take your shirt off too?”

“look at you, being so well mannered…” he says and you roll your eyes, his praise makes your panties grow wetter by the minute. he keeps talking though, making no move to remove his shirt just yet. “although, i think that there’s one word missing, princess…”

you understand him immediately, the words coming out easily, “please…? can you take your shirt off, please?” you rephrase, and jake’s mind goes over drive. he already wants you begging for him.

is almost funny, to know that you two are living the moment he has been anticipating ever since he was first trapped with you in that bathroom in a random college party. he’s lightheaded from the unceasing sensations he experiences with you and his smile is the perfect display of it, breathtaking and contagious. he lifts his arms for you to finish taking the shirt off his torso, you drop it on the floor. his hands settle back on you, falling on your thighs with a smack on which one, as he gets back to trailing kisses down your neck, until his tongue envelops your nipple. he’s still smiling when you moan from the sudden stimulation, but he moans with you after you grind down on him at a specific hard bite he delivers. “you’re into pain or something?” he asks you, moving to your other boob, teeth grazing the skin before he bites it, softer than he wanted, just to test his theory.

you right hand tangles in his hair, fingers gripping the locks but not really pulling at it – which he really wants you to –, your left hand splayed on his chest, nails threatening to dig on his skin. he laughs in disbelief, biting harder – not enough to leave a mark, yet –  and your hips move involuntarily on his, humping his throbbing dick, desperate for a real form of stimulation between your legs. “oh god, you are into it.” he states, and delivers another slap on your thigh.

you bite your lip, and say “you do realize how sadistic this makes you look, right?” in defiance, but your affected tone makes no effect whatsoever. 

his answer is instant, “and you do realize how much of a masochist i think you are now, right?” his mocking tone getting to your and further wetting your panties, that must be completely destroyed by now. he continues his assault in your chest, that already has some red and purple marks blooming here and there.

“i-i’m not…” you start, both hips and voice stuttering from his movements, the fabric of your jeans starting to make you uncomfortable as you rub yourself harder on his erection, jake’s hands groping your skin from the stimulation, the rhythm of your movements torturously slow for his liking. “i’m not a masochist,” you manage to say, and jake laughs from your little act. 

“no, just a painslut...” he says, and your muffled whine is enough of an answer for him. “but don’t worry, baby. you make such a pretty slut for me.”

“fuck…” is all you can mumble, pussy clenching around nothing as you keep grinding on his bulge, dry humping him for all your worth. but jake had enough of that, he wants more – he needs more. so he grabs one of your thighs’ underside with one hand, the other going to your waist as he moves you on the bed. in a second you're laying on your back on the mattress, but you don’t have time to be surprised. jake touches your knee in an attempt to get you to open your legs and you comply, slowly moving them apart to accommodate his hips.

his hands travel to undo the button of your shorts, fingers pulling the zipper down all the way but he doesn’t slide the fabric off your legs. instead, he stuffs his hand inside of it, fingers gliding over your dripping wet slit. “shit, you’re fucking soaked, princess…” he almost growls, forehead resting on your shoulder. “want to fuck you till we pass out,” it’s just a harmless confession, one he doesn’t truly mean, but you don’t care.

“so do it,” you sound desperate, his index and middle finger teasing your entrance while his thumb presses on your clit. he wasn’t moving, and it was driving you insane. you thrust your hips forward, trying to get him to do something, but he doesn’t.

he chuckles, his smirk hidden from your eyes, but you could feel it when he pressed his lips to your ear, leaving an openmouthed kiss in it. “so soon? where’s the fun in that?” he says rhetorically, he has been dying to bury himself inside you, but he still wants to play with you some more. “need to prep you first, baby.”

your moan is music to his ears when he inserts his fingers in you with a quick motion, pleasure running through your veins. but it wasn’t enough. you didn’t want that, you wanted his dick inside you. “f-fuck, jake… jake, please,” is the first glimpse of a plea, and jake is relishing on it. he quickens his movements, fingers working on your walls like magic. he brings his thumb back to your clit, drawing little imaginary circles in it and your head falls back, back arching as you push your hips forward again. “jake, j-jake… please, fuck me. wanna cum on your cock.”

although he really wanted to, he couldn’t resist your plea. he doesn’t need to be told twice, taking his fingers out slowly and helping you out of your shorts and underwear. he takes his shorts off along his boxers right after, his dick slapping his stomach as he does so.

once he’s between your thighs there isn’t much to be said, he’s already guiding his dick to your entrance when your legs wrap around his waist. you both moan at the intrusion, the stretch making your mind go blank as your head falls to the side, right hand finding support on his back as your left hands tangled on his locks. you’re both panting and you barely started, his thrusts are sharp, he reaches so deep in you. your closed eyes and open mouth are better to watch than jake could ever imagine, he wishes he could have this everyday. “oh my god, fuck–” he swears, hand gripping you jaw to give you a kiss. it’s messy, your tongues meet more outside than inside your mouths. when he pulls away there’s a string of saliva connecting you two. his weight is supported on his forearms as he moves to mark your neck mumbling, “y-you feel so good princess, so goddamn good.”

the room smells like sex, your hands try desperately to somehow steady yourself in that moment that didn't seem like reality at all. jake pressed his hips into yours harder and harder with each kiss he left on your neck, his mouth brought you little by little closer to heaven and you let a specific loud whine escape your lips. you could feel his smile as he raised his head so he could kiss your mouth with unquestionable desire once again. you use your legs to pull him closer and his eyes roll back under his eyelids. you arch your back slightly, your chest pressing against his and your fingers – finally – pulling on his strands. jake brokes the kiss to moan and looks at you in that surrendered way he always does. he just couldn't help himself, he needed to ruin you just a little bit more.

“so beautiful, my princess.” his possessive tone making you clench around him, his hand moves from your side to your neck, where he gives it a light squeeze, and then he grabs your cheeks with one hand. not too hard, but enough to make you lift your face. “open your mouth for me, love.” and you comply. your mouth parted slightly and your eyes glued to his, but he’s too lost watching you run the tip of your tongue between your lips to notice. he uses his thumb to open your mouth even wider, naturally salivating at the thought of what he would do next.

when his spit meets your tongue and you swallow without protest, he is gone. the moan he fails to contain comes out muffled as he presses his face back into your neck. the hand that was previously on your cheek goes down to your thigh where he delivers a harsh squeeze. “fuck…” he whispers, inevitably moving his hips to fuck you harder, faster. he was too lost in the feeling, and so were you. 

the intoxication sensation of your orgasm comes quickly, and it’s devastating. jake takes notice of the way your nails run down his back, the other pulling on his hair and your legs impossibly tight around his waist. “would look at that– ah–, you’re going to cum, baby?” he asks, voice low and wavering, “are you?”

you hum, your moans impossible to suppress. you drool on the fabric of the mattress – you were so, so close. jake has other plans, though. “oh, c-come on now, princess… we’ve– ah– talked about it a-already,” he says, hand coming to your neck, adding some pressure – just enough for your eyes to roll back on your closed eyelids. he loves to watch it, his own release coming fast and unforgiving. “use your words.”

“i– fuck– can i cum, jake? p-please…” you start, eyes opening to lock with his as best as you can. “please! jake, ah– i can’t hold it a-anymore…” you cry out, head lolling back once more. “f-feels so good, so good.”

jake can’t hold it back any longer too, hips unrelenting at your begging. “go ahead, baby. cum for me.” he whispers, and it feels like you fall over the edge immediately. the unceasing clenching of your walls only pushing him to his orgasm too, thick ropes painting your inner thigh as he pulls out. the wave of pleasure that overtakes you both is devastatingly good, you can barely discern what's happening as whispered “thank you’s” fall from your lips. when you both fall back to reality you’re sweaty and breathless. he drops his weight on you, arms caging your body as his head finds the comfort of your chest. you giggle and hug his shoulders, eyes too heavy from tiredness to keep them open. you fall asleep before the both of you can say anything. jake senses your calming breath, choosing to clean himself and you up before giving into the temptation of sleep as well. he dresses you on his shirt that was on the floor after putting on his boxers, hugging you from behind whispering sweet nothings to you, lulling himself to sleep.

DAY 37 - Fool For You

you’ve never been one to give in to awkwardness. you pride yourself on being quite a light presence, always funny or trying to make everyone feel comfortable. but it wasn’t until you had sex with jake that it changed. because, sadly, now you’re just always nervous around him. it had been two days since he claimed you for himself – two days and you still haven’t really faced him. what could you do, really? pretend it never happened? act like the big deal it was and possibly ruin everything? acknowledge what happened but act like it's not going to destroy every single wall you've built around yourself?

you felt hopeless and you missed him – so much. because after what you two shared, there was no room for doubt, no room for hiding the undeniable truth. you were deeply, madly and uncontrollably in love with jake. so much so it hurted you. so much so you could tell everyone and you would never feel ashamed of it. but, what about him? how could you ask him if you didn’t even know how to allow yourself to be vulnerable like that? to let him in like he was always there –  although it felt like he had always been part of you, you also couldn’t help but overthink it. you felt like he understood you even if no words were spoken, but would it really be enough for him to know that you loved him? would you be enough for him? did he feel the same? god, did he even like you at all? and as you torture yourself – feeling like you could actually feel a physical discomfort from all the thinking and loving and wanting you had trapped inside you –, jake was losing his mind.

he was in complete despair, like he’ll never have you. all of the time it took for him to get to know you, to get close to you – it felt meaningless –, and now you were slipping right through his fingers all over again. it wasn’t fair. he knew you felt something for him. and it was driving him insane, because if you felt even just a little bit of what he feels, then it was enough for forever. even if you feel just five percent of what he feels for you, you would make it until the end of the world. but it didn't matter, because you hadn’t talked to him yet. he was feeling like he was left to die of starvation, your absence making him hallucinate. making him question just how much he wouldn’t do for you – only so he could finally have you. because he was feeling like he could do it all, but he needed you to come to him. to allow him to truly see you, to truly feel you. so he decided to wait. wait for you to come to terms with the reality you seemed so against living and then he’d do everything – anything to keep you by his side.

even if you weren’t sure about how things would turn out, you know it was you who had to make the first move and when you decide to get your shit together, you walk straight to his room. looking calm on the exterior, but completely wrecked on the inside, yet it’s kinda funny for you. you have nothing to fear anyway, expect for, well, a rejection – but it wasn't really going to stop you. when you get to his door you take a few deep breaths, gathering the courage that was just a few seconds ago all over you but seemed to suddenly vanish. you grow eager, as if it was all coming to realization. it feels so fucking right you could cry, you decide to knock before it all becomes too much. doing it softly, you wait for him to answer, cleaning your sweaty palms on the sides of your sleeping shorts.

jake’s listening to some random “songs for studying” playlist on youtube while scrolling through his media when he hears the soft knock on his door. he freezes, what was happening? he jumps out of bed, looking around checking if anything needed replacing. when he sees everything’s fine he walks to the door, but remembers he had changed into his sleeping clothes, so he goes back to check himself in the mirror, only for him to run a hand through his hair and get right back to the door. once there he doesn’t think twice, swinging the door open. “hi!”

you get startled by the sudden movement. jake looks like he has the energy to run a marathon and is hardly holding himself from doing so. it’s cute. you look at his puppy-like eyes, his lips slightly parted and his hair falling in his brows. you almost say right then and there, but you hold it – waiting for a more appropriate moment. instead, you say “uh, hi.” and then you giggle, looking down to your feet and then back at him. “what are you doing right now?”

he lets out a giggle himself, a bit more at ease now that he knows you’re not there bringing bad news. then he answers, “honestly? nothing,” and he laughs at his own sentence.

“good, can i come in then?” you ask, but before he could even answer you’re already explaining yourself, “it’s just– uh, i want to talk to you…”

he smiles nervously, stepping aside so you can come in. after you walk in, he guides you to his bed by your shoulder and then he lays on his side, propped on his left arm. “tell me all about it, baby.”

the nickname makes goosebumps raise all over your body, but maybe it was the fact that you had acknowledged you want this whole thing so much – maybe it was burning in you all along just waiting for an excuse to be freed. “i… so, i wanted to–” you stutter, growing a bit nervous.

“hey,” he grabs your hands that were in your lap. “relax! you’re kinda freaking me out, you know?” he says, trying to lighten the mood. he could see what you wanted to say was serious but he also didn’t want you to get anxious over it. “i feel like you’re gonna say you're a murderer or something.”

you can only laugh, because he’s such a fucking idiot and you love him so bad it’s kind of pathetic. “god, that’s such an idiotic thing to say…” you pause, looking at him playing with your bracelet mindlessly. then you realized there was no way he went for all the trouble to fuck you if he didn’t have any feelings for you. it was so dumb of you to assume that in the first place. and it felt so right in that moment – almost dream-like –, you didn’t want to waste it. the words left your mouth by impulse, but they all fell so naturally out of it too, it barely felt like it was the first time you were saying them, “i love you, jake.”

jake feels his whole world stop. what did you just say? he couldn’t voice it out better, muttering, “what?”

“yep…” you say comically popping the ‘p’, head nodding dramatically, lips pressed in a thin line and brows furrowed in fake apprehension. because, deep down, you’re sure it was going to work out just fine. “guess that’s worse than a murder, huh?”

jake’s going crazy, he wasn’t expecting you to ever say it like that, so easily. “do–” he gasped, choking a bit. he was a mess by this point, his hands pulling you closer by your wrists until your face was close enough, to the point he could feel your warm breath on his nose. his voice cracking with obvious emotion, but he really couldn’t care less, “do you really?”

and your eyes water, voice faltering just as much, “of course i do, jake… ” you press your forehead to his, eyes closing but you can feel his hands shaking where they hold you and you wanted nothing but to make him feel all of the love he made you feel.

“oh my god,” he uttered, voice completely drowned in emotion as his breath hitches and he sobs, but that doesn't stop him from keep talking, “oh my god, baby, i love you too,” he states, like it wasn’t obvious by the way the tears left his eyes and stained your shirt. he’s a blabbering mess, but you love it. “i love you so much.”

and there, in between tears, smiles and sweet words, jake’s certain that he’d do everything all over again, just to have you. and you know you found the one.

DAY 38 - Apocalypse

you wake up in your bed with a startle, out of breath and with tears blurring your vision, threatening to fall from your eyes. your heart was filled with so much love you could never possibly keep to yourself only, so look to the side to reach jake. only, he isn’t there. you sit up, confusion knocks on your poor sleepy brain and you stumble out of bed. you remember very vividly you had fallen asleep with jake the night before, after you so happily declared your love for each other. as you reach for your doorknob you pause, what if it was a dream? because you remember you were in jake's room last night, not yours. were you so sleep drunk you couldn’t tell if it all happened or not? you rush to open the door and walk towards jake’s room, but he wasn’t there either. so you decide to go to the kitchen, not yet ready to give up, even if your heart was squeezing like you had lost the only love you ever had known.

as you reach the kitchen you hear some noises and your body fills with excitement as you eye jake’s broad figure – but, wait. is that a Seattle Mariners shirt?

“oh my god, jake. why are you wearing jay’s shirt?” your voice competing with your laughter, trying to imagine what would be jay’s reaction if he saw his favorite shirt in jake’s body – his very nice, very doable body. “i’ll tell jay.”

“don’t you dare, pretty,” he says, like it’s a threat – that has no effect, whatsoever – as he drops whatever he was doing to come hug you. “it isn’t jay’s, he gave me this one on my birthday last year,” he gave your forehead a kiss, then the top of your head and kept going, “how did you sleep? i put you in your room ‘cause mine’s closer to the kitchen and i wanted to make breakfast. did i wake you?” but you almost don’t hear it, his voice being drowned since he talked while his lips were pressed to the top of your head. 

“you didn’t wake me, love,” and the way you say it makes jake’s heart melt. “but i woke up crying and for some weird reason i thought yesterday was a dream…” you add, hugging him back and taking in his scent.

“i left for 15 minutes and you were already crying from missing me? that’s cute, princess,” he laughs after speaking, moving you to sit at the counter. “well, it’s good it wasn’t a dream then, huh?”

you give an disgusted look to his little joke, but you’re smiling when you brush your lips to his, “i don’t know… i’m starting to regret it.”

“you’re so mean,” he replies, but he’s also smiling. he gives you a brief kiss on the lips, then one on your cheek. he looks at you for a bit and says, “i think i should make us breakfast…”

you both laugh, knowing what he’s hinting at. you get off the counter and help him, being so filled with contentment and love as you watch him make a mess in the kitchen just like always,

“i love you.”

a/n: it was supposed to be all a dream in the end, bit i couldn't do it. let me know what you think<33

[heylittleriotact]

⚰ＷＩＰ ＷＨＥＮＥＶＥＲ⚰

I've been tagged by @xxnashiraxx and love seeing their work pop up on my dash - thank you <3

The Soup du Jour is... smut! Plotless, pointless, porntacular, horny Emmrook smut.

We've got praise kinks, we've got flashing, we've got grinding, we've got trying-to-distract-this-poor-man-from-his-work, we've got Rook biting off more than she can chew when Emmrich calls her bluff. It is in this piece that I am (ultimately) going to make good on my threat of Emmrich reciting erotic poetry intimately into Rook's ear while he makes deeply passionate love to her, because that idea has lived rent-free in my head for days now and I need to manifest it. But first I need Rook to be a brat, and for Emmrich to... deal with that.

I was having doubts about this one because I am forever afraid of writing OOC, but honestly I'm just trying to chuck it in the fuck it bucket and have fun.

Tagging: @preciouslittlebhaalbae (you have TIME now MWAHAHAHA), @allofthebarks (don't hold out on me), @emmg (I know you're cooking 👀)

Under the cut because it is ✨EXPLICIT✨

𝒱𝒾𝓈𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃:

A funeral event where the prepared body of the deceased is reposed in the casket (open or closed) so that mourners may pay their respects, say their goodbyes, and grieve communally prior to the formal funeral service.

She knew exactly what she was doing when she pulled on the flimsy little camisole. She had very specific plans in mind when she slipped into the thin leggings that she knew were just a little too tight. There was a distinct reason she had chosen to completely forgo underthings. 

She tied her thick hair into a low bun at the base of her skull so her neck was clearly visible… as was the somewhat faded love bite from their previous encounter - the one that made Lace turn beetroot when she laid eyes on it at breakfast. The one that prompted Taash to reach over the table with a congratulatory high five. Emmrich had coughed awkwardly and subtly adjusted his own collar, clearly hoping the marks Amina had left on his neck in return were concealed.

She padded barefoot down the hallway to the laboratory, stomach fluttering and turning on itself in a not unpleasant way with the sheer anticipation of being in his proximity again. She couldn’t help but be drawn to him - his immense gravity could not be ignored; her need to be near him was insistent. She put little stock in the novelty of fate before Emmrich, but there was no doubt in her mind that there must have been some sort of cosmic ruling in which they were unwittingly sentenced by the stars to find one another. Her belly smouldered at the thought of such a thing… of such belonging.

She knocked gently on the door. “It’s me - may I come in?” 

She didn’t have to wait for an answer, nor did she have to turn the knob herself: she heard a chair scuff over the flagstone, the muffled jingle of gold - a sound that set her heart racing more often than not these days - and the door was flung open. Emmrich stood in the threshold, beaming affectionately down at her. 

“Of course, darling.” He took her hand and pulled her into the room, reaching over her shoulder to shut the door once she was inside. She might have been embarrassed that the sound of the lock clicking behind her made her breath catch solely due to its implication, but she was having a hard time feeling much of anything but barely restrained lust for the man in front of her. 

He drew her in close with an arm around her waist, still holding her hand between them, massaging her palm with his thumb as he bowed his head to kiss her sweetly. Her knees went weak when his lips met hers and his familiar scent filled her nose, rendering her brain incapable of anything other than inwardly chanting the same base sentiment over and over for as long as the kiss lasted: Home! Home! Home! Home! You’re home!

He straightened and looked at her, smiling as though he hadn’t heard the hungry little moan that had slipped from her, nor perceived the way she’d pressed as much of her body against him as she could during their embrace. “How are you today?” He asked, genuinely interested - as always. He knew. Surely he knew that she was positively bursting with need for him.

“Fine,” she breathed, returning the smile, watching as he started back towards the desk that was covered with books, inkpots, and parchment. “I’m well, thank you. Just thought I’d come say hello, see what you’re up to.”  

He pulled a chair over to the opposite side of the desk for her to sit on. She opted to remain standing instead, her eyes flitted over the pages of drying ink spread over the desk. 

“More letters home?” She waited until he was settled in his chair again, the quill back in his hand, and she bent at the waist to take a closer look at a recent anatomical drawing he’d completed. She could feel the cozy heat of the laboratory caress the exposed peaks of her breasts as the insubstantial shirt draped downward, offering a generous eyeful to anyone who might be sitting directly across from her. 

Her eyes flicked up from the drawing when Emmrich didn’t answer right away, a clever smile pulling at the corners of her mouth when she caught him red-handed; his eyes locked on the dainty swell of her breasts. 

He came to his senses when he felt her eyes on him and he comprehended the coquettish smirk on her face. “Yes.” He licked his lips. “Yes. Maintaining alliships and channels of communication is vital as we draw closer to our confrontation with the gods.” He swallowed and smiled again as Amina straightened and rounded the desk, settling against the wood on his side now.

“A fine plan,” she concurred, leaning back on her hands, her very visible nipples more or less eye level for the handsome academic to admire. “I hope I’m not distracting you: it’s so rare that I get a few hours to just relax these days.” She made a bit of a show of tilting her chin up and slowly rolling her head from side to side, stretching out the muscles of her neck and making sure Emmrich could see the soft plum-tinted bloom of colour he’d imparted on her skin as he sent her over the edge with his name on her lips, buried to the hilt between her legs as she clenched hard around him, her fingers curled tightly in his soft, thick hair. ‘You are incredible, darling,’ he had sighed against her tingling skin afterwards when they were little more than a tangled, panting heap of limbs. It had taken a good hour after that before she could walk again…

Amina squirmed against the desk a little at the thought, aware of the burgeoning wetness that was accumulating at the juncture of her thighs. 

Somehow Emmrich managed to maintain the discipline required to look back at the letter he was working on, his lips curling quaintly. “Not at all, my dear - quite the contrary in fact: I’m so glad that you’re finally taking some time to look after yourself.” He dipped the quill, tapped it once, twice, and then brought it to the paper.

She observed him in silence until he seemingly made peace with the fact that she was not going to sit on the chair he’d brought over for her, and instead pushed his own back slightly, pulling her down onto his lap where she perched gleefully, having gotten what she wanted. 

“I must concede that you are somewhat distracting, so I will need your assistance in proofreading these before they’re sent out - I do have an academic reputation to maintain, regardless of the beautiful woman on my knee.” 

“Is that so?” Amina purred, nuzzling into his neck, her lips barely ghosting over his skin that smelled organic and clean - crisp soap and freshly cut sage… a lingering hint of pipe tobacco and expensive brandy. 

Oh yes, she was going to be one hell of a distraction…

“She sounds like a real piece of work, this woman. It’s a marvel that you get anything done at all with her around.” She tilted her hips ever so slightly. Not enough for it to be claimed that she was trying to get a rise out of him, but enough so that the fingernails of his left hand dug into her side a little where he gripped her. A pleased smile took her lips at the feeling of him against her, already half hard: he could pretend to be aloof and composed all he liked, but she knew that there was only one possible outcome for this encounter. 

“I was just having a similar thought, as it turns out,” he murmured, breath catching slightly when Amina ground against him more deliberately this time. “She’s cornered me in my laboratory no fewer than three times this week, you see: my productivity has utterly plummeted.”

The way he whispered those words, his voice so sinful and cunning…

“Oh dear…” Amina tutted. “Well we can’t have that now, can we?” She moved to slide from his lap, fully prepared to at least pretend that she cared a whit about Emmrich’s ‘productivity’ of late. 

He held her fast though, keeping her on his lap with his hands and arms, and the sheer fact of his existence alone. She rewarded him with a satisfied hum and another agonizingly slow roll of her hips, suspecting that she was probably beginning to soak through her thin pants.

His hand dropped from her waist to her thigh and he palmed the expanse of hard muscle there, dragging his fingers towards her hip as he leaned forward and his hot breath washed over the sensitive shell of her ear, driving a small gasp from her as she flinched in his grasp: he had not been idly boasting during that dinner date about his anatomical prowess.

“I fear I wouldn’t have it any other way…” he confided, those artful, nimble fingers of his straying to her waistband and slipping beneath it. He sharply inhaled through his teeth and uttered a soft ‘oh’ when he found her waiting for him, slick and needy. There was a slight tremor in his voice when he said, “She is intoxicating, you see…”

She moaned encouragingly as he swirled a finger through her, clearly enjoying the experience of her arousal alone: she could distinctly feel his hardness against her rear now.

Oh how she longed to ravish him - ride him to completion on this very chair, or on the floor perhaps. Maybe against one of the many bookshelves that lined the room - they had dallied against one the week before, her leg hitched up around his thin waist, pulling him deeper as he set a pace that stole her breath from her lungs and hit angles that caused her to see stars. 

Or she could bend over the railing of the balcony upstairs and feign interest in the curious nature of their environs while he slammed into her over and over again, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips… 

Of course there had been the rather awkward instance a few days earlier where Manfred had wandered in on them both in a state of partial undress: Emmrich’s waistcoat hanging open, Amina dragging her hands through his hair, her own shirt piled in a careless heap on the floor nearby and Emmrich’s hand down her pants as she tried to kick off her high-heeled lilac slippers without removing her lips from his skin. Manfred had launched himself between the two of them with a consternated hiss, clearly interpreting their entanglement to mean they were fighting instead of well… the other thing. The following day, Emmrich gave his first in a series of many lectures to Manfred about the birds and the bees - and reiterated the invaluable virtue of always knocking before entering a room that might have someone else in it.

She was snapped from her musing at the sublime sensation of Emmrich’s finger dragging along the ridges of her walls as he slid the digit inside of her. She let out a small gasp at the intrusion and reflexively clenched around it, hips rocking against his once more. 

“... but I really must finish these letters.” There was a playful, coy edge to his voice as he slowly withdrew his finger and slowly pushed it back in. “This striking woman of mine will need to exercise patience today, it seems…”

Something about being his striking woman in particular sent a jolt of arousal straight through her very soul. She could feel the cool metal of his rings against her feverish skin as he cupped her sex, his thumb brushing almost tauntingly over her aching clit. 

“Please, Emmrich…” she whined, arching up into his touch, making her need plain. 

The demonstration of manners earned her a second finger, but her lover did not deviate from his task as he leaned forward, dipped the quill, and began to write once more. “In good time, my precious love,” he soothed. “Try to relax for the time being - I shan’t take long.” 

“It feels so good though…” 

“That’s wonderful, darling - I want you to feel good.” 

She fell silent, the wind in the sails of her desire to argue stilling as she let her head fall against the back of the chair and closed her eyes, allowing herself to exist in the moment - holding on tight to every emphatic response of her nervous system as Emmrich touched her with a capable familiarity that suggested he’d touched her a thousand times before; the erotic symphony of the quill scratching over the parchment mingled with the sound of his fingers moving within her… her breathy moans… his many bangles shifting gently with each purposeful gesture…

“You’re doing so well,” he murmured eventually - she had lost track of time - kissing her shoulder before returning to the letter. He had to be nearly done, hadn’t he? “So good for me… my sweet Amina…”

She whimpered at his words - the reverent praise tolling something deep within her that was starved and lonely. She writhed on his thigh as he placed tender kisses all over her cheek and crooked his fingers, stroking that euphoric place inside of her that made cognizant thought impossible and made her thighs tremble like she’d been in the training hall all day. He took her apart slowly, casually… effortlessly, and before long she was fluttering around him, cheeks and lips flushed a delicate pink, staring down an orgasm that was about to be everyone in the building’s business - she could feel it: the deep fire in her belly roiling and twisting on itself, going taut, so tense and eager that one more touch could snap it, yielding the most decadent release…

And then he was gone, the absence of his touch keenly felt as her walls flexed and tensed around the sudden nothingness. 

She glowered at him, though her stomach flip-flopped enthusiastically as she watched him taste her on his slender fingers with a dignified poise she should have expected. “That was cruel.”

“Is it cruel to strive to linger in a garden of untold majesty forever, even knowing forever is unobtainable?” He stroked those same fingers gently over her lips and she caught the tip of one between her teeth, flicking the very tip of her tongue over the fleshy pad of it. “I want to savour you, my dear.” He buried his nose in her hair and inhaled her scent. “Let me take my time.”

[insidekatmind]

NSFW ALPHABET-LEVI COLWILL

Wearning: +18,smut, english is not my first language

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

he's so so sweet. He will always take care of you and rub and kiss you on sore spots

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Levi is crazy about your boobs and ass. But he also loves your face. She loves watching him every time you have sex and sends him off whenever you lift your eyes for pleasure, open your mouth to let out those cute sounds he loves so much and loves when you bite his lip makes it even hotter.

On his body instead he loves his muscular arms and hands because he loves to cage you and loves when you are so conceited on his tattoos when he fingering you

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes cum all over your body but loves to cum inside you and fill you with all his sperm.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

-He loves coming home from a workout and seeing you in some of his t-shirts. He gets the desire to fuck you until you faint;

-She loves fucking you in public places and having the excitement that someone can discover you so people will see how good you are for him;

-He loves having sex with you while you’re wearing his soccer shirt with his last name on it, makes him super horny.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He has not much experience but knows what he does and does it well. He learns very fast

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

She doesn’t have a real favorite position for sex but loves to fuck you doggy style while pulling a handful of hair to fuck you senselessly, But he also likes to see you riding him and he helps you with movements while he gives you a kick and squeezes your ass and fucks you

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

She kisses you all over and caresses you because she always wants to make you feel loved and desired

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He does not masturbate when you are with him because he knows very well that you will take care of him to free his excitement.

You masturbate when he is not there and make video calls while you give pleasure and listen to your groansK = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He loves to talk dirty and trust is very good knows what he’s saying. Every time he whispers dirty words in your ear when you’re out with someone makes you even more horny for him

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He doesn’t have a favorite place, he likes to have sex with you everywhere.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Levi is excited by everything: a kiss, a caress, a dress that makes you a beautiful ass, a T-shirt that you can see the tits

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything that could actually hurt you and doesn’t like to share you with others

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves receiving blowjobs and everything but also loves to give. He loves licking and eating your pussy

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It also depends on his mood. If he has had a game it will be super rough and you will surely wake up covered in suckers and the segenes of his fingers on your hips, neck and the marks of his hands on your ass.

But he can also be super loving and sweet with slow, passionate and affectionate movements.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

he loves the quickies before each game and especially loves to fill you with suckers

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Levi loves the risk, it would make him even more so that you’re having sex and you could get caught. Many times it happened and he seemed proud of the state you were in for him

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Levi lasts a long time, never gets tired, it’s a real sex machine.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

loves to provoke you a lot and make you need for him and let him pray for his cock immediately, no matter where

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

When you have sex alone little grunts and moans breathing right into your ear instead of being super loud. But he’d be louder and whimpering when you give him a blow job

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It is nice big and beautiful thick.

Every time you see it you always wonder

[notreallythatlost]

AAAAAA THIS WAS AMAZING

JUST FREAKING AMAZING I CAN’T

i have so much to say so here we go…

You had pulled him close to your breast and sank down into the petaled carpet of the forest floor, stroking his hair and listening as he raged on about the war in the north.

You love him like this; no cares, no worries of war. You can soothe him like no one else, a great source of pride whenever he mentions it.

LITERALLY A BABY

"You're staring, love." He smiles, snapping open his eyes and fixing you with an affectionate expression that makes your heart melt.

STARING AT YOU??? ALWAYS

"Love, we have to go, come now," he holds you firmly by the arms, shaking you a little to clear your mind of the dust and debris and blood on the streets of Gondolin.

the whole scene has me in pieces, she had to leave everything behind (for that i would curse morgoth too)

The crushing weight of the love in his hole of a heart moves his hand before he can stop himself. With gnawing doubt in his stomach, he wordlessly takes the knife from you, mixing his pitch black blood with your own on the page.

he really loves her, that‘s the proof 😭😭

"Forever and a day, a lonely fate will be yours. You shall not know the word of a friend, the loyalty of a follower, or the touch of a lover. I curse you to wander the Seen and Unseen world alone, craving the connection you sought to sunder here."

THAT IS WHAT HE DESERVES AND NOTHING LESS

"The Valar will never look upon me favourably, beloved. I could present them Melkor in chains and they would only bind me to him."

AHH STOP THESE LINES I‘M CRYING

"I don't need to. Love, you will join me." His desperation becomes honeyed, dripping with the devotion you so crave from him.

devotion? sounds more like obsession 🧐

"Who do you think you are?" He hisses, venom in every word; you don't recognise him, cold terror in your heart at the sudden switch, as if someone had doused the candle burning for you in his heart with oil, engulfing him with wildfire.

HOW DARE YOU ASKING THAT QUESTION???

"I know exactly who I am. I'm the woman who leaves you."

my heart just broke

"And where will you go? Your people are scattered and displaced, and who would take you in if they knew?" His sweetly honeyed words still bite at your heart, settling in the pit of your stomach.

i would‘ve killed him for this words

He pushes his thigh between your legs, letting you grind yourself against him instinctively, and he groans, deep and low in his chest.

what… what did i say?

His clever fingers usually make light work of the laces of your corset, but his impatience defeats him, and he pulls a dagger from the lining of his robes, slicing cleanly through the fabric.

Twin crowns, wrought in black iron, twisted and wicked, emanating a dark power that made you nauseous; ready for the heads of Middle Earth's new King and Queen. (…) He falls to his knees, his head in line with your mound. He looks up at you, locking his gaze with yours, and delves into your folds with his tongue, seeking your pleasure. (…) He worships at your altar, an acolyte to your pleasure, drawing unearthly sounds from deep within you, willing you to just stay and be his.

screaming, crying, throwing up

"If you were to leave me," he moans against your heated skin, stroking his cock against your thigh, "there would be no rest for any bird, beast, or being in this land, no sleep, no sustenance, these lands would burn until you were returned to me."

A chorus of "mine" and "please" fill the air, and you're unsure whose voice is the louder, who is more desperate in their claiming of the other.

i’m always forgetting about breathing oml

It is only when you finally see daylight, pushing open the great black doors to the fortress, that you can breathe a sigh of relief. If you can just get a headstart, perhaps you'll be able to outrun him.

noo stoop 😭

As he lay in a pool of thick black blood, his last thought was of you; how could you betray him? And thank the Valar you did.

It is as you contemplate your frozen breath in the air, that you realise you can't feel him. A vacuum in your mind, a void in your heart that you haven't experienced in more than a thousand years, and you can barely recognise that it is his absence that has left such a hole.

this whole fic left a hole in my heart too

i have to go… doing things… crying

Haunted (Sauron/F!Reader)

...by the kiss you should never have given me

Lots of mini-chapters add up to an omnibus of angst, as we follow Sauron through the centuries and discover exactly what happened before his coronation.

Sequel to To Have and To Hold // Prequel to In the Dark of the Night // AO3 Link

Soundtrack: Kiss Me Harder by Jordan Fiction, Judas by Lady Gaga, Angels by Within Temptation, Heaven's A Lie by Lacuna Coil, NFWMB by Hozier

Warnings: 18+! Angst, smut, fluff, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, manipulation, toxic relationship (more overt towards the end), obsessive!Sauron, soft!Sauron (yes the two can coincide), knifeplay (just a tiny bit), blood magic, Sauron is a bit of a dick towards the end, sorry, accidental prey/predator kink, knifeplay (again, tiny bit), grinding, slightly dubious consent (you do want it, but I'll tag anyway), oral sex (female receiving), P in V sex, more blood.

A/N: little bit of jumping around in this one, sorry, we start just after the wedding, then we jump to the fall of Gondolin, a little magic ritual in the middle, then the fallout from the sinking of Beleriand (why do you keep getting caught up in this??), then we close out the First Age with a little argument before someone's coronation! Little slices of their romance in quick succession! I went a little experimental in the form of this one, with a bunch of flashbacks informing the main plot at the end. I hope it works 🤞

Special thanks to @olchr-1 for the idea for our revenge on Morgoth!!

Translation note: Amartherui translates in Sindarin to "lonely fate" [Fate (amarth) Alone (erui)]

Word Count: 6k!

Fingers entwined with his, head on his chest, you were enthralled by him, by every pretty word and sweet gesture. Every time he came to visit, you would spend days on end in your secluded glade, to make up for his inexplicably long periods of absence. Sometimes he would come to you with dizzying tales of his latest triumphs, preening under your undivided attention. But lately he had taken to returning under black clouds, tetchy where he was usually playful, and rough where gentleness once reigned.

You had pulled him close to your breast and sank down into the petaled carpet of the forest floor, stroking his hair and listening as he raged on about the war in the north. You had kin fighting the armies of Morgoth, and knew his sorrows all too well, but something behind his eyes told you it was more than he was letting on.

You weave strands of his hair into elaborate braids in your lap, before undoing them and creating something greater in their stead. He eventually quiets under your idle fiddling, eyes drifting shut with a contented smile gracing his face, like a cat napping in the afternoon sun. You love him like this; no cares, no worries of war. You can soothe him like no one else, a great source of pride whenever he mentions it.

You gaze down at his unearthly smooth features and trace each contour with your eyes; your fingers slow in their busy work, moving gently across his scalp, lazily twisting his hair around your finger, making a ring to match the one he'd gifted you, ornate and bejeweled, glittering with an impossible inner light, to replace the woven band of purple iris that he'd improvised on the night of your wedding.

"You're staring, love." He smiles, snapping open his eyes and fixing you with an affectionate expression that makes your heart melt.

"Is a wife not allowed to stare at her husband? Are there no privileges to marriage at all?" Your voice is soft but your tone is mischievous, and he smirks.

"I can think of a few, ah, privileges, dearest, in fact we have exercised a few already today." He raises his eyebrows, before pulling you down to meet his lips. "But if you need reminding, you need only ask."

-

You had agreed to meet in the same secluded glade at the next new moon, but he never showed. The hours you wasted awaiting his return were at first exciting, full of electric anticipation that only love's first bloom can give. As the moon slowly passed overhead, and twinkling stars gave way to blazing sun, you shed many a tear at your folly. Perhaps he had been some mirage, an illusion to tempt you? Or perhaps the depth of his feeling did not match yours, a fleeting thought you had to bury deep in case it irrevocably shattered your heart.

You frequent the glade every so often, convincing yourself that it was a perfectly fine place to pass your time, and that you were not reminded of his warm hands or even warmer smile, every time you visit. Deceiving yourself that it meant much less to you than it did, that if he returned now after so much time with no word or warning, you would not jump into his open arms without a second thought.

Your heartache is apparent to your friends and kin, who assume you're suffering the grief they all feel, having lost so many of their kind to Morgoth's rampage in the north. How little they knew; how little you knew.

It is only when one good friend mentions the siege at Angband, that you are struck with the terrible notion that the man you cursed for abandoning you, might not have done it willingly after all. That perhaps, Valar forbid, he had perished in the siege. He had mentioned fighting in the war after all, but you had not connected that with his absence. After all, he had promised to return to you, on the morning after you had met, having shared a blissful slumber in each other's arms. He held your hands to his lips and swore he would see you again, and now it makes sense. Now you have a real reason to grieve, you realise, and the anger roiling within you turns cold, an icy pit in your stomach as tears fall freely and your heart wrenches and cracks. You were to only have one night with him, and you might never even discover his true fate.

You reason with yourself that surely you would feel if the other half of you had flown this mortal plain. But the alternative was much crueler, and to believe him dead was somehow a less hopeless fate.

Centuries later when you look back, you curse yourself for not seeing who he was, and what he'd done, but how could you? He'd taken you as his own and that was such a strong spell to break, Eru himself would have had to step in.

-

To see your city fall at the hands of your husband’s master, you had no words, only wet hot tears as you watch your people die.

"Love, we have to go, come now," he holds you firmly by the arms, shaking you a little to clear your mind of the dust and debris and blood on the streets of Gondolin.

"I can't, I can't leave them, I have to find-"

"No, we're evacuating, you're not staying a minute longer. I should not have let you linger here when He appeared on the horizon, we should have-"

You tug your arm from his vice-like grip. "Should have what? Should have left my people to wrack and ruin? We have to..." Your mind is so murky, filled with thoughts of leaving, running as far as you can with him, despite your overwhelming urge to stay and help where you can.

"We have to leave. You know there is nothing we can do for them, He will leave none alive, and I won't have you-" he can't say it, he can't even entertain the notion of you coming to harm; his fingers tighten their grip, almost painful in their desperation.

He should have foreseen this, he should have gotten you to safety when he first had an inkling that his master finally knew where the Hidden City was.

"We have to go back, I need to go back, I can't leave-"

After a thousand years, his magic had kept your tiny wedding band of iris in full bloom, untouched by the passage of time, kept safe in an ornate gilded chest, made by his own fair hands. And it was sitting in your apartments on the other side of the city, where your kin doubtless waited for you to leave with them. The sentiment in your heart held you steadfast against his shaking and pleading.

"Love, we can't stay here-" he is interrupted by explosions overhead, as the enemy host draw closer.

"You don't understand-"

"Whatever it is, it doesn't matter, you're the only thing that matters. We have to go!" He never raises his voice to you, so you're a little dumbstruck when he growls at you.

"But we have to save them!" You stop in your tracks, feet rooted to the ground, indignant at the idea of abandoning your friends and neighbours to their doom.

"Amarië," his voice is suddenly so soft, it disquiets you, brings you back to the present. "Love, they're gone. There is no saving to be done."

Sauron is a stranger to remorse, to sorrow, but at the effect of his words, a pang of guilt sweeps through him when he tells you that in all the world, he is all you have now. He tries to ignore the warm thrill he feels in the pit of his stomach, that this great cataclysm has brought about the fate he always wanted for the two of you: just you and he, no one else to rob him of your attention.

You wanted to feel deeply all the grief and pain that one would expect at being told their life was over.

Instead you just felt numb, haunted by the consequences of his actions.

-

"I curse him." Your husband's eyes grow wide at your words, grasping your hands as if to quiet you, but you press on.

"I curse Melkor, Morgoth Bauglir, to roam this earth alone. To never know peace, to never know that which he so jealously craves."

You feel you're taking Morgoth's curse rather well, all things considered. Sauron had to beg you not to storm Angband yourself after he had told you of his master's new name for you, cursing you to a forsaken existence, sundering you from your husband in all but spirit.

You had fought your way back to him countless times, and he to you; you had both vowed to continue to do so, but the rage and grief had not lessened with time, stoked to a towering inferno of wrath that threatened to break you any time you were reminded of it.

And after the fall of Gondolin, your rage at the Enemy was insatiable.

So you had your revenge.

"Enemy. Tyrant. Now I name you again."

In the dead of night, flickering candlelight casting ominous shadows over your face, Sauron cannot help but admire you, crave you, as you corrupt his master's fate.

You slice open your hand, squeezing your palm over the parchment before you, watching as crimson splashes through the stark black lettering.

Amartherui.

"Help me." You look him in the eye, your simple plea making his chest ache; he has never said no to you, his sweet wife, but this is the first time he has been tempted.

"Amarië..." his soft sigh almost convinces you to abandon your plan, but the fury bubbling in your veins is too great.

"Beloved, will you help me or not? Your power would bring this curse to fruition, but if you will have no part in it, you should leave." You stand taller, drawing yourself up to match his gaze, impossible as that may seem.

"I have never asked you for anything. Please do this for me."

The crushing weight of the love in his hole of a heart moves his hand before he can stop himself. With gnawing doubt in his stomach, he wordlessly takes the knife from you, mixing his pitch black blood with your own on the page.

You smile, a weight lifting from your shoulders instantly, and you pull him down to kiss him hard, leaving a red streak on his neck.

"I name you, Morgoth, as my people have long titled you, Amartherui." His new name falls off your tongue like a dream, and you cannot help but smile, your wicked deed complete, as you set the parchment alight, the flames glowing a sickly grey-green as the candles flicker and the room darkens, long shadows growing where the light had tentatively reigned.

"Forever and a day, a lonely fate will be yours. You shall not know the word of a friend, the loyalty of a follower, or the touch of a lover. I curse you to wander the Seen and Unseen world alone, craving the connection you sought to sunder here."

In the back of your mind, there is some semblance of guilt. There is nothing good in the act you just performed, nothing virtuous or pure in your revenge; it's cold and calculated, vicious and spiteful.

Transcending the bounds of time and space, you can feel your curse has taken effect, something shifting in the air between you and your husband.

Sauron has never loved you more, and he shows you many times that night the depth of his feelings.

-

You watch as more refugees stagger into your haven with naught more than the clothes on their backs, waiting to help and heal and offer your comfort where you can. The war has left such a dreadful path of destruction in its wake; thousands of your kin are displaced as the host of the Valar battle their way to Angband, and your people had chosen where the river Sirion meets the sea as their secret haven.

It has been decades since the armies of Valinor first arrived on the shores of Middle Earth, and the end was drawing near, according to your husband, who was waiting with you in the safety of the havens and watching closely.

"I'll see you when I'm finished here," you whisper as you reach up to plant a kiss on your husband's lips. "It'll probably be late, don't wait up for me."

He gives you an affectionate smile; how could he not wait for you? Even if he did partake in sleep, he would not be able to rest without you at his side.

"I'll be up, return to me soon." He is reluctant to let you go, but your skills are in such dire need while the city is inundated with the sick and injured.

Before the War, it was uncommon for Elves to suffer such fates, being hardy in soul and body, but Morgoth's darkness had infiltrated much of the land and infected so many of your kin. Soldiers, innocent bystanders, there were hardly any who were unaffected, and fighting the darkness was a constant effort on your part, and the team of healers you had trained in the magics of your people.

"My lady, they are calling for you." The herald's voice shakes you from Sauron's gaze, and he huffs impatiently.

"I must go." You reluctantly begin to pull away, but he draws you back, pulling you close and wrapping you up in an embrace you could cling to for an age.

"I love you," he murmurs in your ear. "When this is all over, we shall establish the greatest kingdom this land has ever seen."

"If there is a land left." You try to remain hopeful but the news of the siege at Angband is never good, never hopeful, and you fear your home will never be free of Morgoth's influence.

"I am your home," your husband, your Mairon, reminds you, tracing your cheek softly, and you cannot help but return his radiant smile.

"I know, love, as I am yours." You press a soft kiss to his knuckles, taking the strength he offers, before departing to disperse your light where you can.

The darkness infects everything it touches, and it takes all of your energy and more to renew your broken and weary kin, who have travelled so far and fought so hard to reach the havens. Healing words and ancient spells woven into soft songs, settling over the city in a melodic shield, rejuvenating the minds and bodies of your people. You work late into the night, spreading the light where you can, easing the pitch black horror in the hearts of those who had seen the worst of Morgoth's endeavours.

The night is all-encompassing when you finally crawl into bed, nestling into Mairon's firm warmth, trying not to disturb him but feeling sweet relief when his hands trace your sides in greeting.

"I was going to come look for you," his deep voice rumbles in your chest as he presses himself against you.

"No need," you try to smile, but your voice cracks as his tenderness breaks your defences, and all the heartache of the day pours out of you like blood from a wound.

His heart wrenches. He has no business feeling such emotions as remorse, but once again you have him feeling in ways that he dislikes intensely.

"I'm sorry, my love." And he is. He is actually sorry for causing you pain, the rest of Middle Earth be damned.

You sigh and take his hand, holding it over your heart.

"I know, love." You ponder your next question, whether it is a good idea to ask, but you ask anyway.

"You cannot assist in the efforts against Him? I'm sure the Valar would be grateful for your help, might even look favourably upon you-"

He interrupts you with a sigh and a kiss to your neck.

"The Valar will never look upon me favourably, beloved. I could present them Melkor in chains and they would only bind me to him."

Of course, he has thought about begging clemency, thought about fleeing with you to the edges of the world, even thought of taking you back to his master. But in the end, it was more prudent to keep you safe, and to watch and wait for the triumphant side to reveal themselves. Better to beg forgiveness from the victor than choose the wrong side.

-

"Tell me I'm wrong." You dare him to speak against you, your voice shaking in anger as your fists clench.

"My love, I-"

"No, I don't want falsehoods, I don't want games or lies or deceit, just tell me. Did you go to Eönwë as you promised?"

"I did. And I found their response wanting." In truth he had tried to make amends, tried to do penance for the ages he'd spent in Morgoth's service, but when it came to approaching Manwë for his pardon, his fear overtook him and he fled back to Angband, but he couldn't tell you that, couldn't tell you he'd been weak, pitiful, his courage failing him at the final steps to absolution.

And he definitely couldn't tell you that in order for his pardon to be granted, he would have to give you up, to avoid blackening your soul any further.

He'd rather suffer your eternal wrath than be sundered from you for even a moment.

"So you traded forgiveness for more lies." You clench your jaw, your head beginning to pound, the subtle throb becoming a stabbing pain in your temple.

"I did it for you."

"How? How is this for me?" You mock him, incensed now that he would deflect his deceit onto you.

He stands to comfort you but you rip your hands from his grasp before he can claim you.

"I do not know what to say. I thought I knew you, I thought you would do the right thing." You shake your head and laugh, your scorn stinging him as if it were a poisoned blade.

"Love, please-"

"No! No more lies. I've had it with trickery and deception, I want out." You whirl around to face him. "Shadow of Morgoth, they call you. You gather his armies to you once more, you refired his crown! So is that what you want? Do you want to be his second coming?"

In all honesty, no. His master's plans were beneath him; Morgoth wanted to break the world, Sauron wanted to reshape it, to balance and perfect it, by any means necessary.

"Please, listen to me, I need you by my side, now more than ever." He clutches your hands, heart pounding, looking deeply into your eyes, willing you to fall for his pretty words once more.

"You didn't answer me." Tears begin to prick your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall in front of him, stepping back to take a deep breath, to steady your nerves to face the man you thought you loved.

"I don't need to. Love, you will join me." His desperation becomes honeyed, dripping with the devotion you so crave from him.

"Don't. Don't do that." You whisper, as he stalks toward you slowly, his deception burning a hole in your heart that you're sure will never be filled.

"Don't you want to be with me? For all eternity, that is what we always said." He circles you, hands on your shoulders, in your hair, overwhelming you with his lover's touch, just a mite too rough.

"Not if this is your plan. I didn't marry Morgoth, I married Mairon." Sauron, your mind reminds you, and for a second you feel a wave of nausea overwhelm you.

His face twists and he pulls away.

"That is not my name." He growls, an ugly grimace taking over his lovely features.

"I've told you before, don't look inside my head!" You retort, his presence in your mind suddenly overwhelmingly obvious.

You throw him out of your mind, slamming the door shut, refusing him access to that which would be so freely given if he deserved it.

The tic in his jaw is back with a vengeance and his eyes are ablaze with a fury the like of which you have never seen.

"Who do you think you are?" He hisses, venom in every word; you don't recognise him, cold terror in your heart at the sudden switch, as if someone had doused the candle burning for you in his heart with oil, engulfing him with wildfire.

"I chose you, of all your people, as my wife; I could have had anyone, but I chose you. Aulë’s greatest smith, Melkor's most trusted lieutenant, lord of all the dark things that creep and crawl in this world. And who are you? My beloved wife." His tone is like poison in your veins, burning and spitting fire in your heart.

Who are you? He's right; who the hell do you think you are?

"I know exactly who I am. I'm the woman who leaves you."

You shall not be forsaken this time, not that doing the forsaking feels any sweeter. It wrenches every fibre of your being, your heart pounding in your chest, but you make it to the door of his chambers, hand on the doorknob, before he breaks from his stunned daze, crosses the room and clasps his hand over yours on the cool metal.

"And where will you go? Your people are scattered and displaced, and who would take you in if they knew?" His sweetly honeyed words still bite at your heart, settling in the pit of your stomach.

"I cannot stay here, not now that I know exactly what you are." You look up at him, holding his gaze, somehow fighting the urge to scratch and claw and bite your way free like a feral animal, suddenly overwhelmed with the sense that you should run as hard and fast as you can.

His eyes betray nothing, his lips curving into a condescending smirk, as he runs a finger down your cheek, gathering the tears you'd fought not to shed. He examines them as if he'd never seen their like, as if they were precious stones from the depths of the earth, mined just for him; he licks his fingers clean, turning his attention back to you, trembling under him as he cages you against the door.

"Please... please let me go." The look in his eye says begging will be useless, but you try anyway.

"You are my Queen. You're free to do as you please." He replies, voice smooth, with a pretty smirk and that predatory glint in his eye that would usually thrill you so, that still sends hot arousal pooling between your thighs, mixed with icy cold terror.

"It would please me to leave," you try to appeal to him, softening your voice, lowering your gaze.

"I'm sure it would..." he utters breathlessly as he takes you in, leaning over you, watching the artery in your throat jump in time to his own racing heartbeat.

"Mairon... please..." His lips are on yours before you can finish your plea, his hands tangled in your hair.

He pushes his thigh between your legs, letting you grind yourself against him instinctively, and he groans, deep and low in his chest.

"Even now, your body betrays you, my love."

You sigh against him, fingers raking his hair roughly, letting him caress your neck, your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he tries to expose you to his gaze. His clever fingers usually make light work of the laces of your corset, but his impatience defeats him, and he pulls a dagger from the lining of his robes, slicing cleanly through the fabric.

"That was my favourite," you admonish him, still angry with him; even as he takes you apart with his fingers and his tongue, you can't forget his plans, and you certainly can't ignore his gift to you, sitting by the window in all their glory.

Twin crowns, wrought in black iron, twisted and wicked, emanating a dark power that made you nauseous; ready for the heads of Middle Earth's new King and Queen. When you'd seen them, your blood ran cold, as you realised that once again, you'd been victim to Sauron’s deception.

"You will have a thousand more, dearest wife, whatever your heart desires," he promises breathlessly as he shucks off your dress, sliding it down your body, worshipping you with the lightest touch, soft kisses peppering your skin as he disrobes you. He falls to his knees, his head in line with your mound. He looks up at you, locking his gaze with yours, and delves into your folds with his tongue, seeking your pleasure.

You gasp, throwing your head back, as he spreads your legs to access your entrance, splitting you open with two fingers, still drawing every moan and whimper from your throat as he circles your clit, licking long strokes, tiny laps at your skin, letting you ride his face in your lustful haze. You grip his hair more roughly than you normally would, your wrath seeping into your lust, until you can't detect the distinction between the two.

He takes one of your legs and places it on his shoulder, letting you rest against him, both of you totally at the other's mercy. Such trust, such devotion, would you throw that away? Would you truly abandon him?

He worships at your altar, an acolyte to your pleasure, drawing unearthly sounds from deep within you, willing you to just stay and be his.

Your mind is racing as tendrils of his power cling to your lips, fighting for entrance to quiet your thoughts, and replace them with his sweet music. Wouldn't it just be easier? To let the darkness in?

You might as well, you muse in the back of your head, thoughts displaced by pleasure as the darkness feasts upon you.

He's solely focused on you; there is nowhere he would rather be in all of Arda. The unblemished shores of Valinor, the white trees that used to light the world, he can finally understand why his master was so hellbent on their destruction. For there is no beauty that should merit a comparison to you, and he would raze these lands to the ground to prove it.

You're drawing close, he realises, and briefly wonders whether to allow you your release on his lips.

You feel him pull away and moan, a tiny pitiful sound that makes him chuckle; of course you need him, of course you can't be without him, even in anger. Victory is nigh, and he pulls himself out of his robes to claim you once again.

He pushes you back, your name on the tip of his tongue, as he takes you in, breathes your air.

"You're mine," he growls, nuzzling your neck to better scent you. "Say it, say you'll always be mine."

"I will," you murmur softly, tears pricking your eyes as you hold him close.

"If you were to leave me," he moans against your heated skin, stroking his cock against your thigh, "there would be no rest for any bird, beast, or being in this land, no sleep, no sustenance, these lands would burn until you were returned to me."

He claims you in one thrust, filling you so completely, so sweetly, that you see stars, your breath stolen from your lungs as if it were the first time you'd ever laid eyes on him.

Your heart wrenches, pulling towards his, despite your entire being screaming at you.

You kiss him harder, your mind quietened as he bites your lip, droplets of blood wetting his tongue, quickening his insatiable need to be inside you in every way that is possible; mind, body, soul, all inextricably entwined.

The tears in your eyes threaten to fall, but you blink them back as he rocks into you, the chorus of your lovemaking drowning out all other notions. He plays you so well, a master in the art of drawing sweet melody from your lips; the harmony you both create together is unmatched to his ears, a Maia who helped sing the world into being.

A chorus of "mine" and "please" fill the air, and you're unsure whose voice is the louder, who is more desperate in their claiming of the other.

You feel him stiffen against you, his melody reaching a crescendo before yours, as he fills you with his pleasure, low groans in your ear bringing you to your peak as well. He wrings every last moan out of you, drawing out the coda of your song until there are no more notes to be played, no more pleasure to be taken.

Sweat-slicked and exhausted, you hold each other close, entwined so perfectly. You let him carry you to his bed, laying you down reverently, climbing in beside you and nestling you close, arms wrapping you tightly, refusing to let you move from his grasp.

You'd usually find such comfort in his embrace, but tonight there is an itch under your skin that his touch only amplifies, making you fight not to squirm beside him.

You cannot sleep for fear of letting him inside your head again, so when a knock at the door comes, you welcome it.

He sighs, long and loud in your ear, as evidence of his displeasure.

"I'll be back, love, there are matters I must attend to."

"Of course," you smile, fighting to make it meet your eyes.

He regards you carefully, brow furrowed.

"Do not fear, my love," he says softly as he leans down to kiss you once more. "I won't be long."

As he departs, he gives you one final look of longing, which you hasten to return with all the eagerness you can muster.

The door clicks shut, your expression falls, and you immediately disentangle yourself from the sheets,

Finding obscene amounts of your clothing and jewellery, and books beyond measure in his room was no surprise. He must have been preparing for this for years, if not longer.

Now that Morgoth was gone, the next phase of his plan could move forward, and that involved you, his Queen, taking up her rightful residence.

You dress as quickly as you're able, taking only what you can carry, and go to leave. But you notice a small ornate chest you thought you'd lost when Gondolin fell, sitting on the dresser by his bed as if it had always belonged there.

You feel as if you've been stabbed, a gut-wrenching heartache overwhelming you as you can do nothing but stand and stare.

He went back for it. He kept it all this time.

Your feet move of their own accord, and before you can blink, you've opened the chest, staring at the impossible artefact of your love for each other.

Unfurled purple petals, revealing a stark white centre, the woven band appearing as fresh as it did on the day he married you.

You hold it up, comparing it to the ring you currently wear. He really had somehow captured its likeness in a jewel, deep purple revealing a bright light in its centre, framed by ornate silver details.

You cannot bring yourself to slip it on, after all that has happened, his lies and broken promises, but you are loath to leave it.

Movement outside his chambers sends a shiver of panic through you, and you quickly move to hide behind the door. The subsequent banging has you quaking but you stand your ground, waiting for whomever it is to leave.

The door abruptly swings open, and you hear two gravelly voices discussing... you?

"Mistress?" The first call is softer, but their annoyance quickly becomes apparent as the other chimes in.

"Where is she then? They said to fetch her, but I'm not traipsing all over to find some she-Elf-"

"He won't even notice, Adar says he's too caught up in all his planning and his speeches, who cares about one missing Elf?"

"He wants them at least, over there. He'll have your head if we forget-"

"Why my head? You're the one he told-"

"Shut it and take 'em, careful now, there's magic in it still..."

Their voices fade as they shuffle back the way they came. As the door slams shut again, you realise that your husband already has an army of orcs at his disposal, and you reconsider what you're about to do, but only briefly.

Escaping the fortress is more of a task than you thought, requiring all the skills of subterfuge and swordplay that your husband has ever taught you; which is no small feat, considering the centuries you've had to learn.

Quietly slipping through the fortress mostly unnoticed, leaving the odd corpse in your wake as your husband's servants cross your path, unfortunately for them.

Thankfully the halls are mostly deserted, and you hear a clamour coming from deeper within, but you try to pay it no mind, focusing on your exit and nothing more.

It is only when you finally see daylight, pushing open the great black doors to the fortress, that you can breathe a sigh of relief. If you can just get a headstart, perhaps you'll be able to outrun him.

-

It is in the middle of his speech, appealing to his army for their continued support, that Sauron notices you are absent.

He'd sent for you when his moment of victory seemed nigh at hand, and had assumed you were readying yourself for your ascent, but now that he had persuaded Adar and his children to his cause, the sight of your face was all he wanted to see.

As he knelt before Adar, awaiting his rightful crown, he searched for you in his mind's eye. He did not expect to find you outside the black gates, breathing a sigh of relief in the watery sunlight.

A surge of rage overtook him as he clenched his jaw, settling on his knees. The mere thought of your abandonment had always made his heart twist and shatter, and at that moment, he had no heart. Just a void where it used to be.

Distracted by your torment, he barely noticed the first blow, as Adar struck him again and again with the crown that was meant to define your future together.

As he lay in a pool of thick black blood, his last thought was of you; how could you betray him? And thank the Valar you did.

-

A great blast of freezing cold air knocks you off your feet, and for a second you thought you heard his voice on the wind. It's all you can do to just lie there, covered in frost and shaking, trying to assess if you're at least physically intact, your emotional state another matter entirely.

Clutching your head as blood trickles down your face, you shakily get to your feet. It is as if someone has emptied the heavens of all its snow where before there was nothing but arid plains. The air is suddenly glacial, the ground frozen and cracking underfoot.

It is as you contemplate your frozen breath in the air, that you realise you can't feel him. A vacuum in your mind, a void in your heart that you haven't experienced in more than a thousand years, and you can barely recognise that it is his absence that has left such a hole.

You thought you might feel free when you were rid of him, but all you feel is empty, yearning for a presence that has haunted you for millennia.

[southerngothicchic]

thinking about scoops steve again 🍦

The light from the TV illuminates the living room, casting your boyfriend's face in half shadow. Mtv's weekly video countdown plays in the background as you climb onto his lap.

"Just couldn't help yourself, could you?" He asks, with a sigh, while his large hands settle on your hips.  Your tight, denim skirt uncomfortably bunches between you and he helps push it up higher.

"Nope," you smile.

You straddle him with ease, while he gazes up at you, slightly biting his lip with every move of your hips. The scratch of his hairy thighs against the backs of your legs causes your eyes to briefly close, unaware that you'd like that feeling. You quickly reopen them, as you want to commit everything about the boy below you to memory.

Especially the way he's looking at you with total adoration, almost as if he's in disbelief that you're here, gazing back at him with the same look in your eyes.

His hand leaves your hip to cradle your face before he pulls you in for a slow, sensual kiss. It has you both softly moaning into it, as he begins to slowly move your hips back and forth, with his other hand.

You whimper his name into another kiss, already unraveling for him.

"Yeah? Does it already feel that good?" He asks, his voice thick with lust.

You nod. "You know how I feel about your uniform... especially your shorts..." you breathe, pressing your forehead to his.

"I remember, angel," he smiles, while his thumb gently caresses your cheek. "I remember how you literally drooled over them. I almost ruined that pair because of you and your slutty mouth."

You flash a proud smile before he guides your lips back to his.

"Hottest fuckin' thing I've ever seen..." he breathily adds, between kisses. "Never had anyone be that desperate for me before..."

His words have you moaning against his lips, with your hands gripping the back of the couch, needing to stabilize yourself, as he tightens his hold on your hip.

"Want you to always feel like that," he breathes with his wet lips on your cheek.

"I will..." you reply, panting, as you shamelessly grind yourself against him.

A soft whine leaves his lips, before he kisses you again.

"As good as this feels now, imagine how much better it'll be when I'm buried so deep you can feel me here," he says, placing his hand underneath your shirt and against your skin.

"You wanna try that tonight, honey?"

He then smiles as you whimper into his kiss.

"Need you to tell me you want it," he murmurs against your lips.

You let out a tiny sigh of frustration.  "I want it, I want you..." 

His smile widens when he feels you press kisses to his cheek.

"...please, Stevie."

Your voice is so sweet and breathy, it makes him shudder. A smirk forms on your lips as you temporarily gain the upper hand.

"Let's go upstairs then, angel, and I'll give you everything you want," he breathes, nuzzling his nose against yours.

"You always do," you softly reply, moving your hand from the back of the couch to affectionately run your fingers through his hair.

He groans when he feels your fingernails lightly brush his scalp.

"Gotta show my girl just how much she means to me, and how lucky I am to have her," he adds, with a lovesick smile.

"How you spoil me..." you tease, as he playfully rolls his eyes.

"Surely you're not complaining..." he half whispers, his words almost muffled by your lips.

"Of course not," you quickly defend. " Its nice having an overly affectionate boyfriend." 

"I'm glad you realize just how valuable that is," he replies, pulling you close again.

"I absolutely do," you smile, ghosting your lips over his before finally giving in and kissing him.

[lotusarchon]

may i have some husband Macaque x wife reader NSFW and SFW? *swirls hair and burps shyly*

little did she know i'm a nasty dog (macaque x reader)

content warnings: female reader, second pov (you/your), fluff, wholesome husband + wife marriage, nsfw, minors + ageless blogs DNI, macaque being himself, p in v sex, table sex, implied breeding kink

author's notes: god i hate macaque and then this is me to my friend about him (yes that real ones will know this is my genuine reaction towards a macaque edit)

Macaque's arms wrap around your sides, his chin resting on your shoulder. The gesture is affectionate―hands squeezing your hips, a low hum from a new play he's working on in your ear, and he says nothing but watch you place cookie batter on a pan.

He does think he's lucky enough to have you, someone so kind and sweet. He does think he's happy enough that he's earned someone who willingly loves him for all his flaws and all.

(Wukong would like to argue attempted murder isn't a flaw, but what he would know? He's always been a weirdo anyway.)

He likes watching you cook, though. There's something about you wearing an apron, darting back and forth in the kitchen, humming the same tune he sings with flour on your face and your hair in disarray, that paints a scenery he just loves.

But there's always something that feels like it's missing. Something that would make this scenery complete.

Macaque pulls away from behind you, allowing you to slip past and finish the rest of the cookies you're making. He leans back against the table, observing the slight swish of your skirts as you bend over and place the rest of the cookies into the oven with a satisfied smile.

He stares, and stares, for quite a long time….

And it hits him.

Oh, we don't have a little one.

“Macaque?” You glance his way, a smile he wishes to paint etched on your lips. Your face looks warm from the oven heat, and there's still some dough left on your cheek from your hurrying. “You alright there? You've been acting kinda strange lately.”

You frown, brows furrowed while approaching him. He allows you to close the distance, pressing a hand against his forehead. He finds the way you pout to be just as adorable.

“Huh. No fever…did you run into Wukong or something?”

Silently, he shakes his head, amused at your worrying. Your hand trails from his forehead to his eye, thumb caressing the scar that runs vertically under his left eye.

He hates acknowledging this scar exists, yet when your hands are the one touching it, he feels at ease. He feels happier, somewhat.

“I'm fine,” he assures you, leaning into your touch. “Truly. I was just thinking.”

“Thinking?” You tilt your head. “About?”

“You.” His hands land on your waist, pulling you flushed against his chest. Your hands play with his hair, a simple smile on your expression. “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

You laugh. “Multiple times, I'm afraid.”

“Well, I'll say it again.”

He presses his forehead against yours, a lazy grin on his expression. His free hand travels south, and you playfully swat at his chest when he squeezes your ass playfully.

You shift to press a chaste kiss to his lips, and Macaque's grin widens at the corners.

On the kitchen table….

It's not the first time you've had sex in any part of your house. Macaque's always been the type to be frisky, always ready to touch and grab. You'd be lying if you said weren't the same―alas, you picked up your husband's bad habits. Wukong would naturally be pissed.

Your legs wrap around his waist, moaning against his ear. His hands dig into your skin, squeezing your thighs while he thrusts into you. His pelvis smacks against your ass, and his grunts and groans fill the air, mixing with your moans and the wet sounds that follow.

Macaque likes you like this. All sprawled out under him, clothes torn and lips swollen, body covered in bite marks and bruises made in his haste. He likes the sight of your eyes all crosseyed, your expression flushed beautifully as he fucks into you.

He bites his lip when his cock rubbing against an angle withdraws a sweet moan from your lips, and he pushes into you harder. Your walls cling to him, drawing him deeper, and he wants to sink his teeth into your neck and leave another mark there.

And he does. He presses lower to your body, his teeth breaking the skin on your neck. Your hands claw at his back, moaning deliriously as you cum around him, gasping his name like a mantra.

Macaque mumbles something under his breath. He licks the broken skin and kisses your cheek affectionately.

“We need a baby,” he murmurs in your ear, and he yanks you closer. “A little me, or you, you know? Gotta…mark you up. All f’me.”

You don't oblige him with a reply, but the way you moan and bury your head in his chest is all that he needs to turn you onto your side with a smirk.

Oh, and you need a new table in the aftermath.

@lotusarchon, 26.11.2024, all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission. likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

[freaky-deaky-cookies]

Bg3 companions with a reader with heavy cute aggression towards them? (hug squeezing them/ pinching their cheeks/ biting etc?) Thank you!

Bg3 companions with a Tav with heavy cute aggression towards them

Wyll

Unbelievably charmed by Tav’s cuteness aggression. While he might find it a little surprising at first, especially if Tav  aggressively hugs or squeezes him, he’d quickly grow to love the attention.

Wyll would likely laugh, a little awkwardly, at first, especially if Tav grabbed his arm for a playful squeeze or pinched his cheek. His natural charm would come through, and he’d give Tav a gentle, kind smile in return

"Is this how you show your love? Well, I suppose I can’t complain."

Gale

Both a scholar and a romantic at heart, would appreciate the affection but also be a little perplexed by the intensity of Tav’s cute aggression. His more dignified demeanor might make him try to compose himself, but Tav’s sweet gestures would likely catch him off guard

"Ah, I… I suppose that’s one way to show affection, isn’t it?”

Gale would likely be more flustered than he lets on, especially if Tav gave him a tight hug or pinched his cheek. 

Astarion

Both flustered and mildly annoyed at first, but deep down he would find the affection highly endearing 

"What in the hells are you doing? Ah, no, no, no! Not the cheeks, darling. I am not a doll."

If Tav pinched his cheeks or gave him a tight hug, he'd mockingly sulk, "Is this some sort of punishment for my good looks?" But he'd be secretly pleased by the affection, even if it makes him squirm a little.

Halsin

Would take Tav’s cuteness aggression in stride, although he’d likely find it both amusing and endearing. His warm, easygoing nature would make him the perfect target for this kind of playful affection, and he'd be more than happy to indulge Tav.

If Tav bit him or nipped at his ear, Halsin would let out a deep chuckle, "You know, I have to say—you’re certainly bold." But his eyes would soften with affection, and he’d likely return the affection in kind

"Ah, my dear, you are full of surprises."

Karlach

She's incredibly warm-hearted, and this kind of behavior would likely make her both flustered and happy.

"Whoa there, partner, you trying to squeeze me into oblivion?" Karlach might laugh in surprise the first time you hug her tightly or pinch her cheek. She’s not used to being treated with such softness, but she’d definitely appreciate it. 

She’d likely get more comfortable with Tav’s playful aggression, even giving Tav the occasional mischievous grin as she waits for the next cheek pinch or cuddle attack.

Shadowheart

She’s quite emotionally complex, and Tav’s actions would likely draw out both a flustered and guarded response from her.

If Tav hugged Shadowheart too tightly or pinch her cheek, she’d flinch at first, feeling a little overwhelmed. She’s more used to keeping her emotions in check and might wonder why you’re being so affectionate.

 However, deep down, she finds the attention somewhat comforting

Lae’zel

Would be the most perplexed by Tav’s cuteness aggression.

"What is this? Why do you cling to me like a child?" If Tav hugged Lae'zel or pinches her cheek, she’d stiffen up and push Tav away slightly, looking at them like they have done something absurd. Her combat instincts are strong.

However, there’s a part of her that might secretly be touched by Tav’s persistence. Over time, she’d likely start tolerating (and maybe even enjoying) Tav’s bursts of affection, but it would take a lot of patience on your part to soften her hardened exterior. If you catch her in a rare, vulnerable moment, she might even offer a tiny smirk in response to a cheek pinch or playful nibble.

Minthara

She’s confident, composed, and not easily swayed by soft gestures or emotional displays. That said, there’s an intriguing contrast between her severity and the unexpected warmth that Tav’s cuteness aggression would bring out.

She might start allowing small gestures in private, like allowing Tav to cuddle her or resting her head on Tav’s shoulder, but only when no one else is around—she wouldn’t want to appear too soft.

[leapingbadger]

Are You Sure That's a Good Idea?

Beautiful gift banner by @lonewolflupe for @galactic-gift-gathering

This is for @noblelightfighter!

Happy Holidays! I hope you like it!

This is my first time doing one of these events so hopefully I'm doing it right.

Prompt: Are You Sure That's a Good Idea?

“Huntah?” Omega asked as she finished her last bite, pushing her plate away.

“Hmm,” he replied, his mouth full of Wrecker’s delicious cooking.

“I was talking to Phee today. She’s going after a new artifact. Asked me to come along and help with the data encryption…I was wondering if…maybe I could…go?” She twisted her napkin in her hands.

Hunter looked up from his plate. Omega’s large brown eyes looked up at his, expectantly, her blond hair falling in her face. He couldn’t help but still see the little girl they had taken off Kamino in those eyes, that face.

His eyes danced as he thought of every possible outcome of a mission with Phee, strategic outcomes and potential problems. But his eyes came back to their little girl, sitting across from him. Not so little anymore.

“Sure, Kid. That’s fine. Just take you bow and make sure you have your comm on at all times.”

“Thank you, Huntah,” she said, scraping back her chair, rounding the table and throwing her arms around his neck. He laughed at her enthusiasm.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Crosshair hissed as Omega danced off to her room.

“What?” Hunter asked, absorbed in cleaning up the plates littering the table.

“Omega treasure hunting with Phee…”

“She’s done it before.” Wrecker interjected with a shrug, shoveling a final, enormous bite into his mouth.

“Not alone,” Crosshair said, his eyes drifting to where Omega had disappeared.

“She’s seventeen, Crosshair. We can’t keep her at home forever.” Hunter said, amused at his brother’s overprotectiveness. He’d often been accused of it over the years. It was nice to see it in someone else.

Crosshair’s lips fell into a thin line as he scowled at his brother. “You can’t seriously be okay with this.”

“I trust Phee, Crosshair. And I trust Omega. She is more than capable of taking care of herself.”

“I trust her too,” Crosshair said, glumly. “I just don’t trust…” He seemed to be searching around for the right words but failing, “the galaxy,” he said lamely.

Hunter clapped him on the shoulder affectionately, “You know this is gunna get worse, right? What happens when she brings home a partner?” he asked with a grin.

“Don’t even joke about that,” Crosshair snapped.

Hunter laughed out loud this time. “She’ll be fine, Crosshair. She’s got this.”

[enhrtz]

The First Kiss — (엔히아픈)

syp ꕀ the enhypen members are your boyfriends and you guys decided to kiss eachother for the first time

characters ꕀ jungwon, heesung, jaeyun, sunghoon, sunoo, jay, and niki

context ꕀ first kiss, gn!reader, (black writer, some things may sound a likkle weird), jake gets physical (no smut), dancer!niki, fluff, jay has an obsession with stealing your food, ice skater!sunghoon, affectionate!sunoo, (if i’m missing some, let me know✨)

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

JUNGWON. ݁₊ ⊹.ᐟ

“I love you so much!” jungwon giggled, corners of his mouth nearly touching his ears.

you and jungwon were walking out the doors of a fancy restaurant that shined with lights and embraced a chill vibe. jungwon thought it would be cute to take you out on a date and enjoy your sweet presence. your hand was interlocked with his as both of you shared heat in the cold.

“I love you too wonnie!” you cooed, putting your head on his shoulder.

jungwon footsteps became slower and you followed along with him—your heart slightly speeding up in your chest as you felt a different vibe from this moment. he bites the inner muscle of his lip, his dimples poke out and his eyes meet the ground.

“would right now… be a perfect time?”

his boba eyes stared into your face and your hands begin to sweat, a slight noise erupts from your throat as you swallowed nothing but air. your head nodded a ‘yes’ uncontrollably and the gap between the lips of two lovers was sealed. it was cute, sweet, and you tasted a faint red velvety flavor from his tongue.

“we should have done this more sooner” he grinned, giving you a quick peck before moving his feet towards the vehicle that takes you guys home.

HEESUNG. ݁₊ ⊹.ᐟ

heesung was standing behind you at the ‘wheel of fortune’ game at dave & busters and his smile beams when you land on ‘M 1000’.

you jumped up and down like a big kid, gathering all of your tickets putting them in a bag that heesung brought for you to carry.

“what game do you wanna play now?”

“i don’t know… which one?” you questioned, your pointer finger on your lip as you turn every which way to find a game of your interest.

“it’s your birthday love, whichever you want.”

in the process of him saying that you found a game of your choice. you began to speed walk towards ‘hungry hungry hippo’ and heesung followed you with no big deal. he places the bag of tickets down next to him as he sits on the hippo with you, placing his card against the scanner.

you both began to laugh and giggle when you guys fight against each other to catch as many balls as you can in the hippos territory. the game had ended and the results—heesung won and you didn’t but that didn’t matter because you had also won something else.

“babe come here” he gestures you with his hand out.

you grabbed his hand and he sped walk to a location you wasn’t familiar with. it was a dark room and you could smell the faint scent of a strawberry shortcake, which was indeed your favorite.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” everyone shouts, lights turning on and your heart jumps out of your chest followed by a scream that had eveyone in the arcade look at you funny.

you felt a pair of hands on your cheeks, guding your face towards another direction away from the people. your lips being attached to none other than heesung and you suddenly forgot that people were in the room.

“WE reserved this room for EATING.” jay announced, cutting you two out of your, what you’d like to call, “daydream”

you and heesung giggled, as he gives you a quick peck on your forehead.

“happy birthday love”

JAEYUN. ݁₊ ⊹.ᐟ

it was series sunday and you were cuddled up on the couch with jaeyun watching a series ‘outer banks’ while stuffing your throats with delicious snacks.

in the meantime you started to get sleepy and you kept falling in and out. jaeyun noticed and he puts your head on his shoulder, watching the show for you and himself.

“do you want me to tell you what happened after you wake up?” he offered, putting his head on yours.

you shook your head ‘no’ readjusting your body to a better postion to take a nap. your head now on his thighs and your body curved like a fetus, his fingers massaging your head in soft circular motions. your body buzzing with peacefulness.

his touch so warm, makes your body fuzzy you had the urge to kiss him. you guys have been dating for 3 months what could go wrong?

“kiss me” you ordered. jaeyun looked down with his glasses slightly falling down his nose bridge.

“where is this energy coming from?” he says with a slight smile on his face.

“nowhere. i just feel like right now is a good time to try something new”

you sat back up, staring at jaeyun’s tinted red lips and went in for a kiss. his mouth soft, you followed along his movements head tilting opposite of eachother and hands around his neck, his weight pushed your back towards the couch pillows. slight breaths escaped your lips, fogging up his glasses he took them off and kissed you deeper with his body on top of you.

you pulled away, searching for air as you felt your lung capacity fill up with overwhelming joy.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry!” jaeyun apologized, removing his body from above you.

you laid still, shocked as for what just happened and why you did it. you don’t regret what you did and you want more but you believe that kissed proved enough for you.

“you kissed me so good i just… got a bit too ahead of myself”

SUNGHOON. ݁₊ ⊹.ᐟ

“i’m a horrible ice skater” you said as sunghoon was tying up your skates.

“you’re with me you’re going to be okay, i promise. just remember the basics in what i told you. bend your knees, duck walk, and lean forward a little”

you gave sunghoon a stare that stated your fear for the ice. you hated ice skating but you thought going ice skating with your boyfriend wasn’t a bad idea and with that he stands up, holding out his hand.

you grab onto his hand, walking on the carpet floor before sunghoon stepped his foot out the glass door onto the solid ice. his stance was stable and he slightly tugged you onto the ice, it was a gesture of ‘i got you’

feet touching the solid ice you let out a muffled scream when you felt yourself jerk back from how slippery the floor was. sunghoon holding you tight against him, making sure he didn’t break your safety trust.

“remember the things i taught you” his voice calming your anxiety. you unlatched yourself from his tight safety grip and bent your knees, leaned forward, and took small steps one by one.

“there you go. look at you getting it!”

you slightly smile at his words. his presence making a huge difference for you, leading you to finally give trust in yourself to go on your own.

“i got it from here!”

“you sure?”

you nodded, keeping your hands out infront of you duck paddling your way around the rink. you saw sunghoon following behind you, making sure whatever happened he was going to be there to support you.

sunghoon grabbed your hands and skated backwards, dragging you along with him. his stroll on the floor matched the beat of the music playing on the loud speaker and you tried to catch up with his pace but it was too difficult.

sunghoon brushed his slightly red nose against yours, distracting you from the movement and redirecting your attention to the moment. you held his hand with grace and love, feeling warm inside.

pressing a kiss to his lips his skates still strolling acorss the ice, he had no intentions of letting you go even while you guys were sharing love within the lips.

pulling away, you both bumped foreheads and suddenly your fear from the ice disappeared and turned into a smile as you a skate across the ice with sunghoon.

SUNOO. ݁₊ ⊹.ᐟ

sunoo is such an affectionate person, he is always willing to do anything regarding love and you were so down for it.

you and sunoo were at a flower garden, dressed up with soft clothing for the occasion. so many flowers were out on the grass and you didn’t know which one to look at.

“wanna play a game?” sunoo questioned, his attention still on the flowers.

“what game is it?”

“rare flowers. whoever finds the rarest flower has to make dinner tonight. dea—“

you were already on the move, finding a flower you and sunoo hasn’t seen before. you heard his faint laugh from afar and you chuckled. still searching for this random flower. you found a flower that was white on the outside and a slight pink on the inside, you’ve never seen this flower before and with that you picked it up running back up to sunoo noticing he never left his spot.

“i found a flower!” you showed in your hands. “where’s yours?”

“i don’t know, i think my rare flower is standing right infront of me”

you let out a loud ‘aww’ before tumbling him to the ground with a big hug. your bodies rolled around in the flowers, the scent of nature enhancing the mood.

you plant a kiss on his lips, which shocked you both because he wasn’t ready for that and you didn’t expect your lips to move before your brain. you felt awkward inside so you decided to take yourself off of him but he instantly pulled you back down on him sealing your lips together, with the flowers and sunlight on display.

JAY. ݁₊ ⊹.ᐟ

jay was a complete fat ass. he was and will be the first one to take any food away from you, he’ll let you get the first few bites obviously but after that its over.

it’s gotten to a point where you would have to hide your food from him but this time you didn’t need to hide food because you both were on a picnic in central park.

fresh fruits were in the basket, along with a few other snacks that you knew he was going to attack first. you guys decided to paint each-other something that represented your relationship.

setting out the materials, you were in the process of eating strawberries. you put your hand in the basket and realized there was one more left, jay side eyeing you in the process.

“bro. i know you not staring me down over a damn strawberry jay.” you laughed, placing the strawberry on your teeth.

“AHHH!” he yells, turning your face towards him before biting the top of the strawberry, leaving you the other half of the strawberry on your teeth.

you couldn’t stop laughing at your boyfriend and his silly behavior. the strawberry juices dripping from your lips as you used your hand to catch it before it fell on your canvas.

jay chewing the strawberry aggressively, while side eyeing you. he couldn’t hold himself together he bursted out laughing and you two were now a giggling mess.

“i love you,” jay says, leaning forward towards your face planting a kiss on your sweet strawberry lips.

you kissed him back, the strawberry tasted lingering in your tongue and your strawberry lip gloss getting on jays mouth.

“why do you taste like double the strawberries?” he questions, licking his lips.

“i had on strawberry lip gloss dummy”

“mmm. taste good!” he smiles, going back to kissing you.

NIKI. ݁₊ ⊹.ᐟ

you and niki were in the dance room sweating your asses away. you guys were rehearsing a choreography that your manger taught you guys 3 days ago for a show and you only had today to get the counts together and you were stressing.

there was one move you couldn’t hit on the beat and it was frustrating you. niki was doing his absolute best on explaining it with the counts.

“five, six, seven, eight. two, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. got it?”

you nodded your head, barely having the breath to speak. he pressed play on the song you guys were dancing to and when the part came up you immediately hit it right on the counts.

“was it that hard love?” he said, stopping the music and looking at your body collapse on the floor.

“yes!” you responded, nodding in the process. your body weak and you needed a break. you’ve been dancing for 2 hours straight and you ran out of energy.

niki came towards you with one of his hands under your back and the other hand under your legs. he picked you bridal style and walked with you towards the small couch in the corner of the dance room.

sitting down with you on his lap, he turns the AC on and goes on his phone to set an hour break because he know you needed it.

you controlled your breathing in the process of laying on his lap and he had cold towels to wipe the sweat off your body and keep you awake. you stared at him, while he was in the process of taking care of you.

“why are you just staring at me like that”

you placed your hand in your chest. “i can’t stare at my handsome boyfriend while he’s taking care of me?”

niki chuckled. “of course you can. but are you really staring at me or my lips? if you want a kiss just say that.”

he gives you a cocky glare that screamed ‘got ya.’ this was about to be your first kiss with him and you didn’t expect for it to be in a dance room and especially you didn’t think he’d be so bold about it.

you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up and planting a kiss on his lips. niki’s hands were on your lower back as he was supporting you from falling off of him. slight humming sounds escaped the lips of both lovers and a muffled scream came from you when you heard the door opening.

“alright, let me see what you guys got.” the mangaer announces.

you were standing up while niki was sitting on the couch, manspreading. he pulled his phone out and showed the manager that you guys had 8 minutes left of a break and with that the manager left you two alone.

your heart beating out of your chest, as you turn around to see niki standing in-front of you wanting to be attached to you’re luscious lips once again.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

! not proof read ! ~ likes, comments, & reblogs are appreciated :>

[tummysmoocher]

Yeah sure you can let ur shirt ride up ur belly when ur around me. But watch out