#AFTER DAYS AND 1500 WORDS IT'S DONE

[loxare]

Every single year at the worst fucking moment the brain weevils attack and make doing anything besides the most mind numbing activities super impossible. My brain feels itchy, and I don't think I should be physically aware of it but I am. I'd really like to be able to write all these lab reports, but doing so is like trying to walk through the 1919 Boston Molasses Flood, and I keep making two and a half steps of progress before having to pull my feet from the sludge so I can sit on a ledge to rest and also try and beat the flies buzzing around my head back with a newspaper

[seresinhangmanjake]

The Harkonnen's Loves

Dad!Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Mom!Atreides!reader

Summary in bullet points:

Your and Feyd’s four-year-old son is sweet like you but has a little love for violence like his father

Feyd gives your son his first blade

Feyd is soft for his family (I just think being in love and having a family would alter this psycho man’s brain chemistry a bit)

Notes: same Feyd x reader from The Harkonnen’s Sweet Thing and The Harkonnen’s Claim. 

Warnings: a half-psycho half-sweet little boy, mention of blood and injury, mention of pregnancy.

Words: 1500

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

Your son contains a sweetness. ‘Caladan Sweetness’ you call it, because your home planet was where your sweetness was born into you. Your father, the beauty of your home, the oceans and the fields bloomed you into the soft, sweet thing that your husband loves. And though your son has never seen the world you come from, that sweetness runs through his veins. His smile, his laugh, his power to draw those around him out of their Harkonnen-built shells—that all comes from you. 

But at the same time, he is no less like his father. He adapts rather quickly to his surroundings. He has a natural curiosity for weaponry and blood and how one brings about the other. He does not hate the feel of a heart beating its final beat in his little hand—a feeling his father expressed would be better experienced young, and was done so after the slaughtering of a prisoner in front of the boy's eyes. Feyd had cracked open the prisoner's chest, taken his son by the hand, and guided his fingers into the open wound with the instruction to keep them wrapped around the organ until it no longer moved. You remember his eyes that day—round as saucers and sprinkled with excitement as he looked up at his father who ruffled his hair with a grin on his face. 

He truly is a combination of you both; such beautiful balance has already taken shape in a tiny body. He will be a warrior built and molded by his desire to understand everything his father has to teach him. And yet, he will be gentle where necessary; you hope, one day, with a wife and children of his own. But it’ll be long before that day comes. 

Then again, in some ways, he is growing so fast. For you, it could have been yesterday that you were pushing him out of your womb as your husband held your hand and kissed your forehead. At four years old, you still see him as your baby, but you acknowledge that Harkonnen blood ripens faster than the average child, and he has already begun to show signs of the man your brother prophesized him to be: one of the strongest alive; stronger even than his father. 

That is why you’ve allowed Feyd to pace your son’s training—it’s his area of expertise. It is their bond, and you don’t interfere in those moments, opting to stay just out of sight. 

“You're old enough now to have your own blade,” you hear your husband tell your son from your hidden spot around the corner. 

You can’t hold back your smile at your son's uncontained curiosity as Feyd pulls the knife out from behind his back and presents it to the boy. It balances perfectly on Feyd’s palm as tiny hands reach up. Your son pauses, but when Feyd gives an encouraging nod, he plucks it from his father’s hand. 

It couldn’t be a better fit. Not too long or heavy for his hand, but not too short or light. It’s a good starting blade to prepare him for the weapons that will grow in size as he does. 

“You will be training with me every day from now on,” Feyd tells him.

The boy looks up from the knife to meet his father’s eyes. “So I can get strong like you, Daddy?”

“Stronger than me.”

Your son giggles, a wide grin breaking open his face. “No one's stronger than you!”

Feyd's features soften as he pats his boy's cheek. “You will be.”

“Will I be strong enough to kill Uncle Paul for stealing me and Mommy from you?”

You almost snort as you roll your eyes. Of course, Feyd told him the story. It was only a matter of time before he sat him down and explained the tale of your half-brother killing—or almost killing—Feyd in front of you, then holding you hostage upon finding out Feyd was still alive and demanding you be returned to him. In exchange for you and the baby he discovered you were pregnant with, Feyd swore loyalty to your brother. But your husband will not allow his bloodline to continue for generations under the thumb of Paul Atreides. And that starts with your son. 

Feyd chuckles. “You will be strong enough to destroy your uncle and everything he loves.”

Finally making your presence known, you edge around the corner and lean against the wall. When Feyd sees you, so too does your son, and knowing the boy’s next move, Feyd takes the small blade from the even smaller hand.

“Mommy, I'm going to kill Uncle Paul!” he says joyfully as he rushes over and slams into your legs. “And everything he loves!”

“I heard!” you reply, grinning as you crouch down to his level and take hold of his hands. “But you know what? Little na-Barons who wish to take revenge on their uncles must first get a good night's sleep.”  

“Ok!”

“I'll come check on you in a minute,” you promise him before kissing his cheek and sending him on his way. Your eyes follow him running down the hall until he’s safely behind the door of his bedroom. 

Turning back to your husband and walking to his side, you say, “You told him.”

The tip of the blade pushes into his pointer finger as he lazily twirls the small weapon. “At his age, he should know who his enemies are.”

You slip between his muscled body and the table in the center of the common room where he sets down your son’s knife. With a closed-mouth smile, you hum. “And how did you start that conversation? ‘Uncle Paul made Mommy sad and Daddy mad’?”

“Something like that,” he confirms, leaning into you. His hands brace on the table, one arm at either side of your hips as he seals his lips to yours. 

Feyd’s mouth moves at a slow, hypnotic rhythm but with an intense pressure that’s glazed in possessiveness. You can taste it. That ownership. That authority. He may not always fuck you like you belong to him—sometimes it’s your turn to remind him that he’s yours—but his kisses have never been anything short of claiming. Gentle or rough, slow or frenzied, short or long enough to make you forget what world you’re in, a kiss from your husband ends with the reassurance that he wants you, he loves you, and he won’t ever let you go. 

His hands move to your neck, thumbs pressing into the curve of your jaw to hold your head still and you moan from his cool fingers soothing flushed skin. Your lips part and his tongue licks into your mouth. It plays with yours and then retreats. Teeth sink into your bottom lip, lightly tugging before he pulls back to rest his forehead against yours. 

“How's our other one?” he asks as a knuckle draws a line from your jaw to your neck to your cleavage. His eyes follow as it continues past the neckline of your dress and down your sternum, stopping at your stomach where his fingers splay wide. His eyes flick up to yours.

“Strong…like you,” you say, placing your hand over his. “...and like him.”

Your husband nods, exhaling a light sigh of relief. “Did they tell you?”

You smile. “They think it's a girl,” you answer. 

A few thumps of your heart pass as you await his reaction, but then Feyd smiles with you.

---

@avidreader73 @alwaysadreamingoptimist @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @workof-a-rr-t @midnight-serendipity @minedofmoria @aoi-targaryen

[twice-inamillion]

Bunny Nayeon

Fluff, Smut (sex, penetration, creampie, bunny suit)

Chapter 229

1500 Words 

(The both of you go on a small trip together to celebrate Nayeon’s Birthday and having some quality time. Like always, this leads to a bit of fun and some fluff.)

You're taking a few days off to Jeju island with your girlfriend, Nayeon, for her birthday. She's been hinting at visiting the island for the past few weeks to take the first, and luckily, you caught on and reserved a short trip with her. 

During the first two days, both of you enjoyed some sightseeing around the island. That night after the second day, you and Nayeon enjoy dinner at the house. You both enjoy some barbecue and beers to celebrate her early birthday. 

“I love spending time with you alone, babe.”

“Yes, it’s been a while since we spent some time outside.” 

Nayeon shyly presses her chest against your arm and says, “How about having some fun together?”

“What did you have in mind?”

She gives you a small smirk, “you know…”

“You mean…”

“Yeah… I even brought a small surprise that I think you’ll like.” She continues to press her chest against your arm and can feel your dick waking up from its nap. She looks down and sees a small bulge. “Our little friend here seems to have woken up,” and she presses her hand on it. 

“You're being proactive today,” as you caress your hand under her chin.

“It's just that we're here alone. There's no one to bother us,” as she continues to stroke her hand on your bulge. She can see your member slowly wake up, “Wait here. I'll be right back.”

You get up, put the dishes away in the sink, and clean the tables down when you hear Nayeon shout from the upstairs room, “Can you come up here?” 

You’re mid-way to the hallway when you see Nayeon, and your jaw drops. “What do you think? Do you like it?” 

In front of you is Nayeon, wearing a white bunny costume. The outfit leaves little to the imagination: a one-piece suit with a bunny tail and an earpiece. Nayeon turns around, shows you her nice thighs, and shakes her small butt. She tells you to come over using her finger, and you drop the towel on the floor and rush upstairs. 

Nayeon runs towards the master suite, yelling because you are chasing her. You climb onto the bed to get to the other side, but Nayeon stops you. She places a finger on your lips, “It’s my birthday, so I want to unwrap my present that’s hiding under those pants.” She bites her lip, teasing you. No other words are needed as you start to take off your shirt and then your pants, leaving you in boxers. 

You’re now sitting on the corner of the bed with Nayeon sitting on your lap. She kisses you, twisting her long tongue throughout your mouth, even sucking on it. You grab her hips, smacking her ass which makes her yelp. She pushes you down and begins to grind on you. “Do you like that? Do you like it when I dry hump you?”

Your cock is starting to pitch a tent under your boxers, and Nayeon sees it, “You’re going to be mine tonight.”

”Yes, I’m all yours.”

”How does it feel not being the one in charge?”

”Hot. I love it when Noona rides me,” teasing her.

”Hey, who told you to call me that?”

“Just want to tease you.”

“You’re making me feel old.”

”How does it feel fucking someone younger?”

”I’m not old; we’re only a few months apart.”

”Haha, you’re still older.”

“Shut up,” and Nayeon pushes you down, attacking you by bitting your shoulder with her bunny teeth. She lifts her head and looks at you before going back and nibbling on your shoulder. 

After a while, she sticks out her tongue and licks where she just bit you. When she's done, you get up and see the area where she but you are completely red and wet from her drool. 

“You left me a mark.”

“Didn't give me much of a choice; you were making fun of me and calling me old.” 

“Sorry, baby.”

“Just don't do it again, and I won't bite you.” You nod, agreeing with her. She then starts to ride you again with her thin fabric rubbing against your groin. 

Nayeon looks at you with hungry eyes and bites her lip, “I'm going to eat that carrot of yours right up,” and moves the fabric that's covering her cunt. You see a thick amount of nectar drip and cover your stomach. She moves your pants and places your cock between her wet lower lips. Nayeon slowly rides you, her pussy lips coating cock with her nectar, “How does my pussy feel? Do you like it?” 

“Yes, it feels so good; it wraps around me so perfectly.” 

Nayeon smiles at your compliment and puts more of her weight on your cock. You place your hands on her ass cheeks and give them a good grab. 

She continues to tease you for a few more minutes until she feels your cock throbbing. “Oh no, you can't now.” 

She lifts herself up and grabs your cock with my hand, and aligns herself to her entrance. You watch as she traces her folds with your cock before penetrating herself. 

“Oh fuck… you're so big, I missed this feeling,” as the tip of your dick spreads her pussy open. She tries to adjust herself to your length, but you can't wait any longer. You grab her by the hips and pull her down, impaling her with your large cock. 

“Ah fuck!” Nayeon’s whole body spasms; her cunt clenches on your cock as she has her orgasm. You see her body shake violently, squirting you with love juice. Nayeon drops her body onto you as you hold her tight in your arms. 

You don’t give her a chance to rest as you begin to thrust inside of her. “Babe, I’m still sensitive, wait…” she whines out loud. She places her hands on your abs and tightens her thighs around your waist as you fuck her. “Fuck… you’re tightening your walls.”

”Ahh…ahh…just like that… keep on going.” 

It doesn’t take too long for you to reach your peak, “I’m going to cum, Nayeon noona.”

”I told you not to call me noona!” Nayeon tightens her walls, gripping your cock to the point of no return, “where should I…”

“Inside, breed me like a bunny!”

“If that's the case, then take it all!” 

You feel the hotness in your core disperse as you flood Nayeon with a large wave of thick cum. She arches her back, feeling your baby batter invade her hungry womb. The more you pump your cum inside her, the more her walls milk you. 

“Fill me up, mark this bunny pussy as yours, and let's have some bunnies,” as she digs her nails into your chest.

After having her womb filled with your cum she slips off your cock and onto the bed, rubbing her face on your chest. The two of you enjoy your time together before cleaning up and getting ready for bed. 

Coming out of the bathroom, she jumps onto the bed, “You filled me so much that I had a hard time cleaning up.”

“You told me to do it inside, so I did, haha.”

“I noticed you came more than usual. Did me telling you about making some bunnies turn you on?” 

You try to hide your expression, and you can see her smiling. “Haha, you do! Hahaha.” She rubs her face on the pillow and turns to face the opposite side of you, imagining the idea of having children with you. 

You lie on your side, embarrassed, and cover yourself with a blanket. After a few minutes, you feel a tap on your shoulder, “I wouldn't mind having your children, maybe sometime in the near future. As for right now, we can try having all the sex we want; I'll even let you put your cock inside me whIle we sleep” teasing you. She pulls her shorts down and spreads her cheeks, giving you a view, and sticks her butt out. 

“Do you want to put it in?”

You don't even need to respond as you take off your own shorts, grabbing your flaccid cock and pulling Nayeon closer to you. With one hand, you spread her cheeks a bit more and insert your cock inside her. 

She wiggles her butt and moans as she feels your cock, “Hmm… it’s not even hard, but it’s reaching deep inside.” Nayeon continues to grind her butt on your pelvis, making you hard and feeling you grow inside of her. 

“Ahh…so big.” 

She places her hand on her belly and rubs the small bulge on her pelvis, “You’re so big that it wants to poke out.” The two of you slowly fall asleep, embracing each other throughout the night. 

[4th-make-quail]

IWTV Fic Recs - Old Man Daniel Focused

I've been meaning to put together a list somewhere for this, and since I just sent a bunch to someone, here it is finally! it's a mix of Armand/Daniel, Daniel/Louis, Armand/Daniel/Louis in various configurations - please enjoy!

if you read and enjoy these fics, please make sure to leave a comment for the authors on ao3!

Daniel/Louis

Conflict of Interest, by hereticas - T, 2000 words

Louis comes by Daniel's room the morning after they recover their memories of San Francisco.

Very very cute kissing post s02e05 fic!

Daniel/Louis, Daniel/Louis/Armand, Armand/Daniel, Armand/Louis (combo of all)

it seemed the thing to do (what made me think I could start clean slated?), by fastcarmp3 - E, 3900 words, WIP

Louis asked Daniel if he wanted to… now. It wasn’t an empty offer.

Danlou with Armand watching which is SMOKING HOT

Terza Rima, by nothing_but_paisley - E, 1700 words

Daniel finally gets what he came to Dubai for, but the aftermath brings even more questions.

INCREDIBLY hot threesome with stellar character voices, bit of Armand Voyeurism (THE GOOD SHITE), bit of Daniel being a slut for being bitten

That's It, Mr. Molloy, by anonymous - E, 4900 words

Daniel finds himself distracted, during the interview. Rashid comes to help, and invites Louis along, too. He snaps his gaze away, clearing his throat. “So, are we, uh…talking about that? Or…” “Talking?” Rashid cocks his head, amused. “Is that what you would like to do, Mr. Molloy? Talk?” As he speaks, he steps forward, walking Daniel backwards until his knees hit the edge of the bed. Daniel looks back, startled, as though he hadn’t realized he was moving, at all. “Won’t you sit down, Mr. Molloy?” Rashid asks, gesturing.

that old man gets PROPERLY FUCKED!! bit of a Rashid!Armand situation, bit of massage, very very hot

Push it away but it all comes back again, by butchybats - E, 5400 words

“'Let me get this straight. You left me for dead,' Daniel addresses Louis, who very pointedly does not make eye contact with him. This time Daniel turns slightly to face Armand. 'And you saved my life in the most erotic way possible?'” Or: All Daniel wants is to resume the interview like normal after finding out about the supposed "love of Louis' life". Louis and Armand have better plans.

Threesome sex VERY HOT (includes a bit of flashback to 70s era) with a really fucking excellent Daniel Voice!

Armand/Daniel

were the flowers orange?, by andrealyn - T, 6700 words

Years ago, Daniel cut out the love of his life to save himself from choking on tiger eye, daylily, bird of paradise. Now, in Dubai, suddenly the disease returns even though the only thing that's changed is Rashid became Armand. And yet, the flowers tell him something -- whoever he cut out is fighting like hell to be remembered.

Absolutely DEVASTATING hanahaki fic, this shit is really fucking good!!!

the fog eating the night, by tei - E, 3700 words

If Louis had wanted him alive, he'd have escorted him out himself. But he hadn't. He'd left Daniel standing there stunned, and walked out like none of this had mattered to him at all. Whether he meant to or not, Louis had given Daniel to Armand.

Very tasty post s02e08 turning fic! Really damn good Daniel Voice.

At Close of Day, by nothing_but_paisley - E, 1700 words

On a frigid Christmas night, Daniel and Armand celebrate being alone together as they explore their budding relationship.

Really hot with human!Daniel! A top Armand who absolutely ADORES him, it's very fucking cute

Only a Name, by nothing_but_paisley - E, 1500 words

In Dubai, Daniel is visited in dreams by an opinionated young man--but there's something terribly familiar about him.

More Rashid!Armand fic, very very fucking hot

strange mutations, by leavethebes - E, 11000 words

Armand’s done it to him once before—gored him through the stomach, gutted him like a fish, snipped his gills off, and drained him right down to the fluttering valves of his heart. Left Daniel little more than a shriveled husk of a person, and somehow Daniel is back here anyway, on his knees in front of Armand and begging for the oblivion that was promised.

Post s2 but before Armand turns Daniel, really fun Armand interfering in Daniel's life post-Dubai and another excellent Daniel Voice!

Devouring, by verimeru - Mature, comic

An 11-page IWTV (2022) fancomic about the vampire Armand facing his worst nightmare.

OUGH, MY FEELS.....

Daddy, by GreyGiantess & verimeru - Mature, comic

“What's with the face?” Daniel asked. Armand’s eyes widened slightly, which was probably meant to make him look innocent, but it only made The Face worse. “This is just my regular face, Daniel.” “Yeah, right. You’re up to something.” In which VERIMURU and GRAYGIANTESS team up to give you the Armandaniel age difference COMIC you didn't know you needed! Very loosely related to Baby.

VERY cute age difference comic with human Daniel! Appreciated him still having his parkinson's, and their relationship and dynamic is SO cute

whip in my valise, by firstaudrina - E, 3100 words

“I thought you weren’t coming back,” Armand said. “Yeah,” Daniel said, the word an aggravated pull. “Well.” Old Man Daniel goes to Night Island.

Very very good, VERY VERY HOT, excellent level of fucked up with some delicious voyeurism also

[cb-writes-stuff]

I am doing a note challenge thing

UPDATED RULES

5 comments per person

No spam reblogging—only a few times a day, please

No tag limit

White means the milestone hasn’t been reached

Orange means it’s reached but pending

Green means it’s reached and done or ongoing

25 notes - Start brushing my teeth every morning after breakfast (if/when I remember)

50 notes - Buy little bells to put on my backpack (to go ding ding when I walk)

100 notes - Start doing a little bit of Japanese review every day

150 notes - Be more consistent about using Tuesdays after class to do online class work

200 notes - Draw a new PFP for myself

250 notes - Get back to reading Stormlight Archive (it’s been like. A year. I never even finished the first book.)

300 notes - Purchase solid-color thigh highs

350 notes - Learn a new song in Japanese

400 notes - Write a continuation of Too Many Hats (continued from whatever I last wrote, might do this anyway but no guarantees)

450 notes - Purchase patterned thigh-highs (I will need suggestions though)

500 notes - Start going to social events at college

600 notes - Post a recording of my singing (a Japanese song ofc, those are easier)

700 notes - Draw a PFP/banner (idk which) featuring my facets

800 notes - Buy shirts and stuff from games/things I like (instead of not being attached to my shirts)

850 notes - Stop only eating food I brought with me / generally get more protein

900 notes - Be more consistent about going to bed before midnight

1000 notes - Infodump about the magic system in Project Opal

1250 notes - Start writing Too Many Hats updates regularly and post it on tumblr

1500 notes - Post Too Many Hats to AO3 as well

2000 notes - Consider that maybe it is possible for me to be happy, somehow

5000 notes - Stop ignoring things that might help me (not telling you what they are though) (I’m never gonna get this many notes)

Every 50 notes (up to 5000) - Write 100 words in Project Opal

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddiesongfics.

Heat Waves

August Prompt: Heat Waves by Glass Animals (2020) | Word Count: 1500 | Rating: E | CW: Explicit Sexual Content | Tags: There's a Heat Wave in Hawkins, Eddie POV, Post S4, Eddie Munson Lives, Pining, Voyeurism, Masturbation

It's fucking hot. 

The fan is doing very little to keep up with this unbearable heat wave they're going through this summer. It's hotter than balls, and Eddie is absolutely certain it has something to do with the after effects of Vecna. Like cracking open the earth somehow unleashed the heat straight from hell itself. It's undeniable that this area of Indiana is ten or more degrees hotter this summer than the surrounding areas, and honestly, watching the meteorologists bend over backwards trying to explain the cause of it is often hilarious.

There is no explanation they are ever gonna come up with that makes any sense, but god bless 'em for continuing to try.

Eddie is laying in his bed, listening to music on his headphones, because the neighbors are far too eager to call the cops on him these days. So, Wayne gently suggested the headphones, and for Wayne, Eddie obliged. Tonight, it's just him and Iron Maiden, as he lays in his boxers, hair damp with sweat. Even now, in the middle of the night, the temperature inside the trailer is nothing short of miserable. 

The scars on his side are tight, and no matter how much lotion he rubs into them, he still worries that they are always gonna be this way. Feel this way. Look this way.

Just. Be this way.

At least no one will see him here in the dark.

Wayne's at work, Henderson's surely at home in bed, and Steve is gone for the night. 

Steve's here a lot, too much probably for Steve's sanity, but Eddie isn't about to shoo him away. No fucking way. But he doesn't blame him for not wanting to stay all night in a trailer with very little air movement. It's a hot box. 

The government is supposed to do better, this is allegedly just temporary, but Eddie knows better. They brushed them off into a trailer that's worse than the one that was ripped apart, and this is exactly where they'll stay.

He's sure of it.

Temporary his ass.

But he doesn't expect Steve to suffer through it, too. Not when he has a big empty house, with all that expensive central air.

Steve tried to get him to come back to his house, but Eddie hasn't done that since his parents showed up unannounced on weekend and freaked the fuck out that Eddie Munson, Murderer, was on their couch.

Assholes.

It's a goddamn miracle that Steve isn't one, at least not anymore. Maybe not ever. Eddie isn't sure. Not now. He always thought King Steve was the asshole, but maybe, just maybe, Eddie was the asshole. Maybe they both were, in different ways. Eddie can't decide what's true.

Eddie thinks about Steve all the time. Sometimes he's all Eddie thinks about. He shouldn't. He knows that. They're friends, and that's a miracle in itself. Even if Steve did have an interest in guys, Eddie's sure he's not Steve's type. Especially not now that he's damaged goods.

The fan blows across his body, back and forth, and his one remaining nipple comes to attention with the breeze. Eddie isn't even sure why. It's not cold in here, but he still rubs his thumb across it.

It feels good, and he doesn't take for granted that he can feel anything at all there. Not now.

His dick stirs, and it's too fucking hot for that. Unless he wants to go take a cool shower, and he really doesn't want to move from right where he is. Not tonight.

But his cock hardens, trapped against his thigh, and he slides his hand under the waistband of his boxers, pulling his cock upwards. Wrapping his hand around it loosely. Jacking slowly, eyes closed. He doesn't intend to take this anywhere, not really, but if he can just show it a little half-assed attention, maybe it'll settle down.

Lazy stroke, after lazy pull, and before he knows it, he's edging himself towards a slow, easy orgasm, even if his hand is way too fucking dry, and this wasn't how he intended on this going.

But it feels good, so he keeps it up. Loose grip, slow strokes. He prefers not to rub any additional skin off of his body, thanks. He's lost enough, as is.

He thinks about Steve. How it'd feel if it was his hand instead, breathing out his name, "Steve."

And that's when he hears it, a whine.

Eddie's eyes snap open, and Steve is standing in the shadows of the doorway.

He's a mirage. The heat wave faking him out.

But he's not shimmering. He's not moving an inch. Eddie can barely see him at all, just the familiar outline.

"Steve?" Eddie finally chokes out, voice scared, as he pulls his headphones off his ears and down around his neck.

"Yeah," Steve says, "it's me. Sorry. I was staring."

Eddie laughs. He was staring. Eddie wasn't gonna mention it, but if he wants to bring it up, that's fine.

"Never seen a man jerking it before?" Eddie asks, not pulling his hand out of his boxers. His dick is still hard, and very interested in the man in front of him.

Steve licks his lips, and Eddie's dick jumps against his palm, "Yeah. Sure. Just. Not you."

"Well, I'm only a man," Eddie says, slowly pulling his hand upwards, going to stop touching himself with Steve in the room, when Steve startles him.

"No. Don't."

"Don't?" Eddie questions, hand stilled. "You want to watch?"

Steve nods.

Fucking hell.

Eddie's not shy, but this is brand new territory, even for him. Letting his friend watch him finish jerk off is nothing he's ever dreamed of before.

Eddie rubs his palm over the head of his dick, gathering up the precum there, trying to help the glide in any way he can.

His eyes are still on Steve, and Steve's own palm is crushed against his jean-clad crotch. Goddamn. 

Eddie strokes himself, lazily, keeping eye contact with Steve. Steve's sweating, drops running down his forehead. This is the hottest thing that's ever happened to Eddie, and it's not even close. 

Steve's rubbing himself through his jeans, and his dick looks fucking huge, at least from here. Eddie wants to see it, touch it, taste it. Get fucked by it. Stroke it while he fucks Steve. Any of it. All of it. If he'd only be allowed,

And as much as Eddie wants to see Steve stand there stroking himself while fully-clothed until he comes in his goddamn jeans from watching him, Eddie wants more.

Eddie makes a decision, he tugs down his boxers, freeing his cock from the fabric confines. Showing all of himself to Steve. His scarred hips, his hard cock, all for Steve.

Steve's eyes are glued to him, watching as Eddie holds onto the base of his dick, cupping his balls, holding everything for Steve to see. 

"Goddamn," Steve breathes out.

"I've shown you mine," Eddie says, with a bravery he didn't know he had. He must be delirious from the heat, "Wanna show me yours?"

Steve's nodding, popping the button on his jeans, tugging the zipper, wiggling the tight denim down his thighs, taking his briefs with them.

Oh, fuck.

He's everything Eddie wished he might be, and more. 

"Look at you," Eddie says, "Can I touch?"

And that's all it takes, Steve is shimmying across the room, kicking off his shoes, getting fully undressed as Eddie yanks his boxers off, doing the same.

Then, Steve's naked body is covering his. His mouth finding Eddie's, tongue immediately sliding inside, as if they've been doing this together forever.

Eddie moans, hands rubbing up and down Steve's back, his ass, and they're both covered in a light sheen of sweat. Slick as they rub against each other, rutting their hard cocks skin-to-skin. Desperate. Hot.

This is a whole 'nother level of horny. Eddie's never felt like this in his whole life. He feels drunk, stoned, fucked up on this man who's rubbing off on him.

Eddie cups his ass cheek, squeezing, before brushing the tips of his fingers against Steve's asshole, and Steve bucks against him, coming.

Oh, fuck. They are gonna have so much fun together.

Steve leans back, and rubs his palm through his own come, and then wraps his fist around Eddie's dick, and starts jerking him off in earnest. Eddie can't decide what to look at. His own cock, being worked over by Steve. Steve's face. Or Steve's softening dick, laying against his thigh, thick and wet.

It's all so fucking good.

Steve twists his wrist, and Eddie comes, hips lifting off the bed.

And Steve smiles, laying back down on him. It's too hot for that, way, way too hot, but Eddie says nothing. He just rubs his fingers up and down Steve's slick back.

They're gonna need a shower, and soon. But right now, Eddie'll suffer through the heat wave to have this wet dream of a moment together.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiesongfics and follow along with the fun! 🎶

[goodomensafterdark]

4.5k followers?! CALL FOR ARTISTS, WRITERS AND PODFICCERS

Oh my god, we just hit 4,500 people following the account!

(okay, missed it by a few days, we were busy okay)

What are you all doing here and when did that happen?! Well well well…  

*adjusts waistcoat*

We have something very special in mind in order to celebrate this milestone: we would like to do a bit of a rebrand of the Tumblr account.

And for this, what better than a little contest?

This will go into three directions : 

Artists

We would like to change our pfp ! We of course love @vavoom-sorted-art ‘s, but since this one was put in there, the subreddit changed 20 times! So it is time to do a bit of undusting.

Draw a riveting pfp for the Tumblr account!

Writers

We have been trying to give a good summary of who we are and what the sub and this account are all about, but… we are missing YOUR interpretation!

Write an epic/crack/lewd presentation of our sub! 

Make us LAUGH and make us HORNY!

Try to keep the main presentation at a maximum of 500 words.

If you want to write a companion fic that would be longer, go for it, but we need an actual presentation that would be a bit shorter 😉

Podficcers

You heard us, YOU TOO get to participate! We have special plans for those celebrations, you see, and for this, we will need you!

Choose a fic in our collection that is less than 1500 words and podfic it.

You will have 1 month to complete this task, so until the 28th of July!

How will the choices and results be handled

Submissions

Please submit your art, fics and podfics on the Good Omens After Dark file share here.

Folder name should be : GOAD Tumblr Contest

Name your files as follows:

[your tumblr account name]_[pfp/presentation/podfic]_submission

We will not take your submission into account if you don’t follow the GOAD account.

Your productions don't need to stay private: you can absolutely post them and mention us!

If you post ahead of the results announcement:

On Tumblr: use the tag #GOAD 4500 celebrations

On AO3: use the tag GOAD 4500 celebrations and add it to the collection

Results announcement

We know you feral goblins, so we will be planning for 2 weeks to go through the art and writing and podficcing you will have submitted.

Once we are done with it all, we will choose 3 winners:

an artist, whose art will become our new pfp

a writer, whose presentation blurb will be added to our metapost

a podficcer, whose podfic will be added to our metapost as a star example of what this community has to offer.

But for all the others, not to worry: you will of course all be celebrated for the work that you have done during this month, and will get plenty of love from us! <3

TL;DR: Celebration contest! (need to follow us here if you want to compete)

Deadline: 29th of July

Artists: draw a new PFP

Writers: write an epic/crack/lewd presentation of the sub

Podficcers: choose a fic from the collection that is not more than 1500 words long and podfic it

Prize: the winners will be part of our rebranding! The artist's pfp will be our new pfp, the writer's presentation will appear in our metapost, and the podficcer will appear in our metapost.

Good luck to you all!

[isattt]

Part 1 - Warning: Suicide mention.

Tags: Haunted house, anypov (?), yandere level: low. Theme: romance, spooky? (Not that much) Words: 1500 (~7 minutes)

next >>

You stared at your phone, looking incredulously at the screen. The apartment was dirt cheap and thirty minutes from the university you attended. This really can’t be real... there had to be a catch, you knew that meant for sure there was something wrong with it, but as you eyed the price again, you just couldn’t bring yourself to let this opportunity pass, not after looking for so long.

When you first visited, the place appeared abandoned, with cobwebs and covered in a thin layer of dust. The landlord, a formal-looking man, reassured you that all appliances, despite the old appearance, were working perfectly.

“And well, if you need anything fixed, I will do it for you in a heartbeat, alright?” The man says, with a wide charming smile on his face, “Don’t be shy to come to me.” He says, patting away the dust from the top of the microwave.

You eyed the place, your eyes landing back to his. “If you don’t mind me asking... Why is it so cheap?” You ask, noticing the dust covered hoops with half made embroideries of delicate flowers, maybe someone old who passed away...? you think to yourself.

“Heh...” He says, with a humorlessly chuckle to himself, his smile quickly faltering “Well... a guy… he… you know...” He says with a slight tremble to his voice, rubbing his arm nervously “Sorry... It’s hard even thinking about it... I wish I could have done more...”

Your eyes widened slightly, quickly acknowledging what he was trying to say. You looked at him with a sympathetic gaze, taking his words in “Oh, I’m so sorry I… I didn’t realize.“  

“It’s alright, pal.” He says reassuringly, putting on a braver front. “I’m actually more worried about you now, you know? You alright with that?” He walks closer, carefully putting a hand on your shoulder. “Things like these make folks uncomfortable. I myself wouldn’t be able to do it.“

You stare at him, before looking away “Well... it’s pretty disturbing, obviously...-”, you say with a sigh “-but I really need it so...”

“I get you, I do,” He nods. “Hopefully, I can make you feel at home. Call my number if you need something, anything, alright? I really am not kidding,” He furrowed his brows, looking at the piles of hoops with a pensive look “So-” He suddenly clasps his hands together putting on a weaker smile than before “-when you move in it will be all cleaned up, I got you”

You mirrored his small smile with one of your own. “Thanks, Will.”

It’s been one week since you have moved in and you have settled in nicely. William did a good job cleaning everything. When you came back, it was almost like you stepped into a completely different place. Even the air of the place was new and lighter, even if still slightly cold.

Ever since then, nothing unusual has happened. You spend your days the same as any other day, just now in a smaller home than before.

Well, almost nothing unusual. The house was always chilly, making weird noises from time to time, and you often had nightmares about a tall man just standing at the foot of your bed, watching you sleep. But you would not let your paranoia drive you away from the best apartment you’ve found after almost a month of searching. Ghosts, demons, and such didn’t exist, after all. When the semester starts, it will be all worth it, you repeat to yourself, trying to find some solace in this situation.

Once you got home that evening after going out to buy your groceries, you noticed an odd recent addition to your wall, just by the entrance, a CO2 meter. Did William install it while you were gone? It was odd though, you never thought he would be the type of landlord to just enter your place uninvited. It was unlike him to invade your privacy.

You decide to take out your phone. Looking at the contacts, you send a quick message to him, trying to understand his intentions. Could it be something that was scheduled that I didn’t know about?  You thought to yourself as you typed your message, “Hey will, what’s up with the CO2 meter?” You hit send, putting your phone aside for a moment on the counter to unload your groceries.

“CO2 meter?” the screen lights up with his reply. You quickly pick your phone back up to reply, “The one you installed?” you furrow your brows, staring at his text with a confused look. Did he forget?  You keep staring at your screen, anxiously waiting for a reply... 

“I didn’t install a CO2 meter.”

“Is everything okay? Do you need me to come over??”

You suddenly feel the familiar cold from the apartment enveloping your body, making you shiver slightly. What could this even mean for you? Would someone really break inside your place only to put something like this and nothing else...? You for sure needed to take that thing down at least It might be a hidden camera or something.

“I don’t know, to be honest.” You reply to him.

“I looked at the cameras in the hallway for you, but I found nothing, pal.” He said, fixing his glasses on his nose with one hand.

William was sitting at your table, sipping on the cup of tea you had given him. He arrived not much later after your text, coming immediately to check on you. “It’s too damn bad I can’t be more helpful here. Even the cameras on the outside found nothing unusual.” He says, taking another sip of his tea.

You were leaning against the wall, staring at him while holding your own cup of tea, the warmth of the liquid providing you a sliver of comfort in this situation. “It’s okay... this is already better news than I expected,” you say as you shift your weight onto your other leg. “Maybe it was always there and, ugh, I don’t know, maybe I didn’t notice it before.” 

“Well... hah...” He brought the cup to his lips, hesitating before taking a drink of the hot liquid. “I noticed something though...” He continues, “It’s nothing horrible, I mean… It’s just... well, you can see for yourself” He lowered his cup to the table, bringing his phone out of his pocket.

You sit down in the chair by his side, dragging the chair closer to him. When your shoulders touch, William flinches slightly, but keeps the phone in place. You look between his eyes and the screen with a curious look.

The screen of his phone showed you the camera feed of your hallway. The timestamp showed it was around noon, a few hours before you found the CO2 meter on your wall. It was empty, no one coming or going. 

“Around here,” William said, forwarding the video. Nothing changed, still the same empty hallway. Before you could ask him what he had seen, the feed showed your door opening. No one came out, of course. You weren’t at home.

Then… the door closed by itself, the same way it had opened.

“What...” you muttered, staring at the screen with wide eyes. “But I locked the door...”

“I imagined you did.” He looks at you, an uncertain look on his face. “What do you think of setting cameras inside here? I could lend you one of mine.”

“Maybe...” you say, still shaken by what you had seen. You feel the chilly atmosphere of the house again, creeping up your spine. “I wasn’t so much worried about the meter anymore, but this is something else.”

He leans back against his chair, creating some distance between you two as he puts his phone away. “Look, I’m not trying to imply anything, but these sorts of things have been happening all the time. Folks come here, these things happen... they leave.”

He grabs the cup once again, running his finger over the rim of the cup. “I am not one to believe in ghosts, but…”

“If these things exist, at least the fella who is haunting you is the least dangerous ghost you could have, hm?” He says with a small smile, a wistful look on his face.

You raise an eyebrow at his statement, while he could be right, it’s hard to believe, given your circumstances “Well, he is still creeping me out, even if that’s the case...” You say harshly, suddenly feeling the cold air of the room leaving.

He nods understandingly “Mhm, I can understand,” he pauses, emptying his cup of now lukewarm tea and standing up to put the cup on the sink “I don’t know why, but it’s been a lot more active with you than with everyone else... when you sat close to me just now, I felt like someone was staring daggers at me! Hahaha!”

He finishes washing his own cup, walking to stand in front of you. “If you see him, tell him I miss his nerdy ass!” he says, grinning widely. “Let’s just install those cameras so you can sleep easy at night, alright?”

[steddieas-shegoes]

naked under there

for @steddieholidaydrabbles pop up event 'graduation'

rated m | 940 words | cw: mention of illness (flu symptoms), mentions of sexual content | tags: established relationship, modern au, college graduation, sick fic, the laziest possible almost handjob you may ever see (that's why it's not even rated e)

🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓🎓

Steve worked his ass off to get here, and now his ass was fucking cold.

This was definitely his own fault, but he hadn't considered the fact that the graduation ceremony was inside. With air conditioning. And fans blowing on the stage to help circulate more air.

Steve was naked under his graduation gown.

He was standing in an arena filled with nearly 1500 students and probably 5000 family members and friends, and he was naked.

Admittedly, not his brightest moment.

And what was worse, what was actually going to kill him, was Eddie called him an hour before the ceremony crying because he had a fever and migraine and body aches and Wayne wouldn't let him get out of bed. So he'd done all this for nothing.

He only had a few people ahead of him now, and his body was shivering. He looked out to find Robin, but she was lost in the sea of people already called to get their diploma sitting back in their seats. Steve was the biggest idiot here. They shouldn't even give him his diploma.

"Steven William Harrington."

He quickly made his way across the stage, smiling as he heard cheering in the upper level of the arena. All his kids had made it, though a couple of them didn't fly in until earlier that day and had to rush, so he didn't get to see them before he had to line up and get to his seat. Wayne promised to be there too, more of a parent figure for him in the last four years than his own parents had ever been. Even Nancy had made it, explaining that there was no way she was missing this when she'd helped so much with editing his papers.

As he walked off the stage, diploma in hand, he paused to smile for the camera that was taking pictures. He didn't think he needed them, but Wayne insisted on buying one to celebrate his achievement. He wanted to frame it and place it next to the picture he has of Eddie on his high school graduation day.

He forgot for a moment that the flash would make the pale yellow gown a bit more see-through. He forgot that the camera recording the entire session would probably capture this moment, too.

Instead of panicking, he walked back to his seat quickly, head down and hands holding his diploma in front of his entire crotch area. He was such an idiot, holy shit.

If he wanted to blame Eddie, he probably could, but really, this was all Steve.

Eddie had made a comment last week while he was fucking Steve against the wall that he couldn't wait to fuck him in his cap and gown. Steve couldn't stop thinking about being pulled into a closet after the ceremony, while everyone waited for them, Eddie lifting up the back of the gown and fucking into him.

Hence, being naked under the gown. Easy access was crucial when time was of the essence.

Except now, Eddie was dying of the flu in bed, and Steve was naked for no damn reason under this gown.

The shivering started again as soon as he sat in his seat. Why the hell was it so cold in here?

By the time they got to the last names beginning with Y, Steve felt miserable. He was freezing, but sweating down his back and neck, and the gown kept sticking to his thighs. His whole body felt sore and the pain behind his eyes was making its way to the back of his head and down his neck.

Would he get in trouble if he left early?

He had his diploma, and they were mostly done. He could go.

He left.

A few people around him told him to sit, but must not have felt the need to argue when they saw how miserable he looked.

His phone was buzzing in the pocket of the gown, but he couldn't bother to check it right now. He needed some fresh air and some water.

The fresh air helped slightly, but the sun hitting his eyes made him want to lay down and die. The headache increased exponentially as he tried to find a shady spot with no luck.

He could just walk back to the apartment. It was only three blocks.

Eddie was there.

His vision was slightly blurry as he made his way home, but he didn't need to see details to know how to get there. He walked this area every day for the last four years and now he was done.

He was done. Holy shit.

He barely made it in the door before he unzipped the gown and let it fall to the floor.

"Stevie?" Eddie's rough voice called from their bedroom.

He was so dizzy.

"Hey, Eds," Steve said as he climbed into bed, naked, sweaty, shivering, sick with the same illness Eddie was bedridden with.

"Sick?" Eddie whispered, eyes barely open as Steve turned on his side facing him in the bed.

"Think so."

"You're naked," Eddie said, eyes closing as he wrapped a hand around Steve's soft cock.

Steve let out a small moan, but didn't have the energy to do anything else. Neither did Eddie, it seemed, as he let out a small snore only a few seconds later.

Steve smiled to himself as he placed a hand on Eddie's chest and closed his eyes.

Eddie could fuck him in his cap and gown in a few days, like they planned, but this time, he wouldn't have to risk being caught in front of thousands of people.

[sizzlingstarlightsky]

Waging A Mental War

Azriel x Reader with OCD

Summary: After the battle with Hybern, your mental health declined. The OCD you thought you had control over begins to consume you. Everything is wrong. Will anything ever feel right?

word count: 1500

The morning light spilled into the room, illuminating the dust motes that danced in the air. It was a sight that had once brought you peace, a gentle reminder of the world's persistent beauty, even amidst the quiet moments.

But today, as you lay in bed, your eyes followed their erratic paths with a sense of dread, your mind already racing with the tasks that awaited.

You knew you wouldn't find peace in the day ahead.

Your OCD had taken over your life since the war ended, turning simple routines into exhausting rituals that had to be performed to perfection.

The nightmares had lessened over time, but the intrusive thoughts remained, a persistent echo of horrors. Experienced and hypothetical.

You sat up, your body moving almost of its own accord, as it had so many times before. Your eyes scanned the room for any signs of imperfection, any items out of place.

The sight of your sword, leaning against the wall, sent a shiver down your spine. The blade gleamed, a stark contrast to the darkness of the memories it held.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to focus on the present. The compulsions grew stronger, demanding that you check the weapon, ensure it was clean and sharp, despite having done so only hours earlier.

The bed sheets felt like a prison, clinging to your legs as if to hold you back from facing another day. But you had to go on.

With trembling hands, you began the meticulous process of folding them, smoothing out each wrinkle, aligning each corner until not a single thread was out of place.

The scent of breakfast wafted up from the kitchen, a mix of roasting meat and baking bread that usually brought comfort.

Today, it was a call to hurry, to perform your morning rituals before the others awoke and noticed the extra time it took you.

You knew they didn't mean to pressure you, but their very existence felt like a weight on your shoulders.

How could you explain that the mere act of existing was now a battle?

Even here, in the warm embrace of your home, the whispers of doubt lingered. Were you truly safe? Would today be the day the enemy found you again?

Safety isn't real. My thoughts aren't real.

Your mind healers' words echoed through your head. Usually, it helped ground you, but today was an extra bad day.

As you descended the stairs, your heart pounded in your chest, the rhythm setting the pace for the rituals to come. Each step had to be taken with care, the right foot first, then the left, alternating in a precise pattern to ward off the anxiety.

You reached the bottom and paused, your eyes darting to the floor. A speck of dust caught your attention, and your hand twitched, yearning to wipe it away.

But no, not yet. The order had to be maintained. That would mean washing your hands again. They were already dry and flaking.

You tried to smile at the others as they greeted you, but the effort felt forced, the muscles in your face protesting against the lie.

They couldn't understand the chaos in your head, the relentless need to count, to clean, to ensure everything was in its rightful place. It was a war you fought alone, even as they offered you companionship and warmth.

Azriel looked at you with concern. His eyes, once cold and unreadable, had softened over the months you'd spent together. He knew something was wrong, but even his understanding couldn't bridge the gap between you.

"You're taking longer than usual," he said gently, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate in the very air around you.

Yoy nodded, your throat tight with the effort of keeping your emotions in check.

"Just...just making sure everything's right."

He approached, his movements fluid and silent, a stark contrast to the cacophony in your mind. He placed a scared hand on your shoulder, his touch grounding.

"Let me help," he offered, his voice filled with genuine concern.

For a moment, the compulsions wavered, and you considered his offer. But the fear of losing control was too great.

"No," you replied, your voice shaking slightly. "It has to be me. It has to be perfect."

He searched your eyes, his own filled with a mix of compassion and frustration.

"Y/N, you're not alone in this. Let me share the burden."

You pulled away, the need to clean now overwhelming.

"I can't," you whispered, the words barely audible over the clanging of pans. "If it's not perfect, if I don't do it, something terrible will happen."

Azriel's eyes searched yours, understanding dawning.

"Your thoughts are lying to you," he said firmly. "You're not responsible for everything, not every outcome."

You looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

"They feel so real," you murmured, my voice tight with anguish. "It's like they're a part of me."

With a sigh, Azriel stepped back, giving you the space you needed.

He knew pushing would only make it worse. Instead, he picked up a plate and began filling it with food.

"Eat," he said, placing it in front of you. "You need your strength."

You stared at the plate, your stomach twisting in knots. The food looked delicious, but the thought of eating it without first ensuring that the kitchen was spotless was unbearable.

"I-I'll clean up first," you stammered, already moving towards the counter where dirty dishes were piled.

"No," Azriel's voice was firm, but not unkind. He took your hand and led you to the table, gently guiding you into a chair.

"You need to eat. Your health comes first." His gaze held yours, unyielding yet filled with care.

The others in the kitchen paused their work, watching you both with a mix of curiosity and concern. They had seen the changes in you, the way you flinched at sudden sounds or the way you checked and rechecked the locks at night. They had offered their support, but none of them truly understood the monster that had taken residence in your mind.

"Please," you whispered, the word a desperate plea. "I can't."

But Azriel's grip on your hand was firm.

"You can, and you will," he said, his voice a gentle command. "We'll start small. Just a few bites."

You nodded, the fight draining out of you. The others returned to their tasks, the sounds of their movements a comforting backdrop to the silent war waging within.

You picked up your fork, the metal cold against your fingertips. The food on your plate looked so normal, so innocent. Yet the simple act of taking a bite felt like defying an unseen enemy.

The first bite was torture, each chew and swallow a fight in itself.

But as the food settled in your stomach, the hunger you'd ignored for so long began to gnaw at you. With shaking hands, you took another mouthful, and another. The taste grew more familiar, less foreign with each bite.

The warmth of the food spread through your body, and for a brief moment, the obsessions receded. It was a small victory, but one you clung to with desperation.

The others had learned not to disturb you during these moments. They had seen the toll your compulsions took on you, the way they stole your joy and energy. They had offered to help, to take over some of the tasks that triggered your anxiety, but you had always refused. It was a prideful stance, you knew, but one driven by fear.

If you let go, if you allowed the chaos to seep in, you were afraid it would consume you.

But as you sat there, the weight of Azriel's hand on yours, you realized how much you had missed. The simple act of eating breakfast without first scrubbing the kitchen to an impossible standard was a small act of rebellion against the relentless voice in your head. It was a taste of freedom, one you hadn't experienced in what felt like an eternity.

"Thank you," you murmured, your eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"You're welcome," Azriel replied, his thumb making comforting circles on the back of your hand. "It's okay to need help."

For a moment, you allowed myself to just be, to feel the warmth of his touch and the solidity of his presence beside you.

You took a deep breath, feeling the tension in your chest begin to ease. Maybe he was right. Maybe you could fight this, with his support.

"Let's go for a walk," Azriel suggested, his voice a gentle nudge. "The fresh air might do you good."

Do you want to be in a Taglist?

🖤 Azriel ❤️‍🔥Eris ✨️General ⚠️Kinktober

@chunkypossum @honeysuckle-daydreams13 @ysmtttty @nessiandefenseattorney @nocasdatsgay @secret-third-thing @azysmate @yennas-stuff @a-courtof-azriel @batboyrhyrhy @lilah-asteria @velarisnightsky444 @christeareads @thestarlightexpress @viktoriaashleyyx

Comment ⛔️ if you wish to be removed. No offense taken, I know how overwhelming notifications can be. 🥰

[sourtomatola]

Blood and feathers AU by @missterious-figure

CW: Blood and yandere behavior, fear, yeah.

1500+ words

You stood outside the door. You stared at the Image of a Moon on the front of the fancy wood. You winced at the smudge right below it. You knew exactly what that smudge was. It was there ever since the very first time Moon had killed. He had demanded it not be cleaned off, seeming to find it like a right of passage or something. You wished you could understand him.

 You swallowed and looked down at the doorknob, hesitating as long as your boss would let you. You were only given limited time with Moon because the boss was aware of how much Moon seemed to like you, growing clingier with every visit. If you stayed too long, someone would have to come get you. It’s embarrassing and terrifying every time. Moon has cooperated begrudgingly to give you up, but you’re just waiting for the day he doesn’t.

After a couple shaky breaths, you knocked softly before entering. The room had all the lights off, making your grateful that, for the moment, you didn’t have to see much of the mess you knew would be in here. Moon was a slob who didn’t care about the mess he tended to make after a kill. He had multiple tonight, which always makes him clingier to you.

You walked across the light ray that lay across the floor like a beam of safety. You knew it wasn’t, but it still made you feel safer. “Moon? I’m…here for your usual wellness check…” You called softly.

You squinted through the dark before flinching at the sound of fluttering feathers. Your eyes searched the dark before pinpointing glowing red eyes that blinked at you mischievously.

“You’ll have to turn on the lights, little Quill.” He rumbled.

You cringed at his nickname for you and felt the wall for the light switch. Your hand brushed past a painting, the one you knew was the hotel owner. He for some reason insisted all employees have a portrait of him, the egotistical prick. Your hand brushed past a wet spot on the painting, making your breath hitch. Feeling it more, it seemed like there was only one drop of…something. Next to the drop, practically attached to it, was the tell-tale fraying of canvas ripped with a very sharp claw.

You let out an exasperated breath as you squinted at the fray. “Moon! You cut the boss’s portrait again!” You huffed as you hear a mischievous giggle in the dark. “You know he hates that!”

“He shouldn’t give me something so tacky then.” He mused.

He had cut the throat of the portrait. Chin to sternum, His favorite way to kill you hear. Quite cruel considering he tends to miss the arteries and just goes for the windpipe first. It looked like he had blood on his claws when he cut the portrait. That explains the remaining residue thats now smeared around from your fingers touching it. He must have done this minutes before you came in since the blood was wet. Possibly did it just for the occasion of you showing up.

“Alright Moon, turn on the lights already, you’re freaking me out.” You grumbled and continued searching for the switch, accidentally smearing the blood off your finger and onto the wall. You could never remember where it was, and it was placed too far in to make sense. It was sensored, but Moon kept taping paper over it to block out the movement that would activate it. He’s so dramatic.

“Just don’t want to ruin the surprise~” He cooed in your ear, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. He moves so quietly; you hadn’t even heard the fluttering of feathers in the dark.

“S-surprise??” You squeaked nervously. You never liked Moon’s surprises. They usually involved corpses, or holding you hostage.

Scaly wet claws gently grabbed your wrists from behind you. You instinctively pulled your hands closer to your chest and backed up right into a feathery torso. You gasped and moved away from his rumbling chest, dark giggling erupting from his mouth.

“M-moon??” You whimpered.

“Don’t get excited yet, I haven’t even shown you the surprise yet~” He giggled and started pushing you along. You stumbled slightly and tried to keep up with his tall steps and he pushed your arms forward as he walked.  His dangerous talons dug into you slightly, but he must have been being as gentle as he could as he didn’t draw blood yet. He led you deeper into the room and straight to the back where the bathroom was.

That was not a good sign.

He flicked on the switch in the bathroom and you quickly closed your eyes from the sudden bright lights. You winced as you started to open your eyes, but the moment you saw a severed hand, you quickly shut them again.

“No no dear, I brought you gifts! Please appreciate them!” He encouraged you. You flinched as you felt his rough palm on your cheek. In your desperation for a distraction, you noted he definitely needed his claws thoroughly cleaned and lotioned. As Usual. You were always scraping blood off between his scales and claws.

He nudged you again. “My Quill…my surprise…” He prodded, starting to sound pouty.

You slowly opened your eyes and let out a shaky breath, your eyes going wide at the horrific mess in the tub. Several severed hands of many different shades and sizes. No doubt all of them from tonight’s victims. The fact that not all of them had doubles, and the size of the pile was not comforting. One hand was obviously a woman’s, perfectly manicured with a very flashy ring on her finger.

“Boss-man hates cheaters.” Moon whispered in your ear and pushed you closer. “He said I could pick off a souvenir…or two. I was thinking of you and wanted to bring you all I could! Just for you~”

You tried to dig your heels into the linoleum, but the blood on the floor made it slippery, making you fall back into Moon’s arms. He giggled and cradled you gently, letting you lean into him without choice on your part. Every movement seemed to make your feet slicker. He nuzzled your face with his own, trilling happily before picking off the ring from the feminine hand. He grabbed your hand next and slipped it onto your finger. You held your breath, as if expecting him to next take your hand off and add it to the pile. He nuzzled your head affectionately while you stood in stunned silence.

After a few moments of nothing else happening, your shaking hand moved down to your hip where your walkie-talkie was. You brought it from your belt to your face, barely having the strength to push the button down. You hardly heard the static, being unable to take your eyes off the horrific pile of hands in the tub.

“C…c-clean up…requested…C-code M…” You stuttered out, amazed that you could even remember the code required for the right clean-up crew.

You heard radioed confirmation before the walkie talkie fell from your hands and your finally turned away from the mess. You tried to get out but instead ran into Moon. His feathers puffed out pridefully, letting your burry yourself in them to hide and find comfort.

“Aw, little Quill…”  He chittered and trilled in your ear as he held you close. “I’m glad you like the gift~”

You nudged into him more, trying to push past him to escape, but he held you firm. “Where are you going? You still haven’t given me my wellness check.”

“I ju- I n-need a m-minute…” Your whole body shook, making you weak as you fought to not melt into his arms.

“Aw, don’t worry, you can hold onto me. No need to get upset.” He said and picked you up with ease, holding down your arms and pressing you into his chest. He brought you to his nest of blankets and pillows, that were thankfully clean.

He fluffed up his feathers again and snuggled you, successfully keeping you warm and feeling safe. Or, you would feel that way if you didn’t know him personally. Or having just seen his good work.

You felt his neon blue tongue start to preen your hair, not asking or giving you a choice in the matter. He lapped at your scaled in attempts to affectionately clean and take care of you. You squirmed, but that was the only thing you could do against him.

“I like it when you let me look after you.” He cooed as he moved his tail around to cover you protectively like a blanket. “I’ve gotten quite excited over tonight’s haul…would you stay with me tonight? Sleep in my bed and let me wake up to your cute face?” He asked softly.

“M-moon you know m-management w-wont-“

“Shhhhh, I don’t need their permission to keep you. Never have. I’ve humored them this long, but it’s about time I…put my foot down.” He said as he languidly stretched a single leg next to yours, stretching out the vicious talons suggestively.

You swallowed fearfully, finding yourself fiddling with the new ring on your finger. You wanted to throw it off, your mind not letting you forget where it came from. Moon wouldn’t take kindly to that. You’ll just wait for management to confiscate it.

“T-the boss-“

“Owns you, and Me…you might as well say we’re birds of a feather~” He giggled as he nuzzled into your neck, letting his long crest feathers droop around your shoulders.

This is going to be a long night.

[irisintheafterglow]

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BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA

"but i love you like you need me to" - dabi/todoroki touya x reader

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HAIKYUU!!

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[ikeromantic]

Ikesen Boys React to Tattooed MC pt 1

This was an ask from @otomedad that I just had to write. I did some reading up on the history of tattooing in Japan and there was so much that I found super interesting. So! Here goes, starting with Nobunaga, Hideyoshi, and Masamune! Approx. 1500 words.

Nobunaga

“What’s this, fireball?”

You feel Nobunaga’s breath tickle your shoulder blade, his lips so close they almost brush your skin. For a moment, you don’t know what he means. It’s hard to think when parts of you are being ‘claimed’, afterall. But you smile as the memory comes back to you. Sitting on a stool, arms braced on the counter in front of you, with the buzz of the tattoo gun in your ear. “You like my koi?”

His fingers brush the inked design, tracing the outline of the leaping fish. “It is very well done.” He does not sound pleased, though he’s trying to hide it.

“You don’t.” A slight pout draws your lips out and down. 

Nobunaga stills behind you, so motionless that you don’t even feel him breathing. Just as you are about to break the silence, he wraps his arms around you, pulling your back against his chest. “It is part of you, so it is beautiful.” His chin rests on your shoulder, just above the tattoo in question. “Why did you receive this mark?”

There is an unexpected tension in his voice, and you laugh to ease it before explaining. “I got it after I graduated from design. It represents my struggles, and my determination.” You turn your head to kiss his cheek. 

He regards you with a serious expression, tense despite your affection. 

“Do you really hate it?” You can’t help how vulnerable you feel as you meet his carnelian gaze.

“I told you. It is beautiful, as you are. But . . .” He pauses, a slight grimace crossing his expression. “I do not like that someone marked you. Someone else claimed this -” He leans back to spread his hand over the koi. “Every part of you is mine.”

“Are you jealous of my tattoo artist?” You grin, unable to hold back. “You know I picked the design and the colors and everything, right? He was just some guy with a good flash book . . .”

Nobunaga’s frown does not ease, though you know that he’s aware this is ridiculous. 

You snuggle back against him. “Alright, alright. I understand. If you could do tattoos, I’d get one from you, ok?”

Something mischievous flickers in his gaze and a slight smile turns up the corners of his mouth. “Yes. This is acceptable.”

You aren’t sure what he’s accepting. Nobunaga can’t do tattoos, right? Right? Whatever questions you have disappear as his lips find that sensitive spot at the back of your neck. 

Hideyoshi

You roll up your sleeves to start working on the kitchen’s herb garden. The day is warm and sunny, promising a hot afternoon. It’s a good thing you’re starting early. 

About an hour into the weeding, Hideyoshi stops by with a tray of cool water and a wide straw hat. He kneels beside you. “You know it’s bad for your skin to be exposed to sunlight for so long. Even in the morning, you can’t -” He stops midword, his mouth hanging open.

“Hm?” You look up, dusting your hands off. Before you can ask anything else, Hideyoshi grabs your elbow.

“What is this?” 

You realize he’s pointing at the serpent tattoo on your forearm. The snake curls over itself in a complex circle, with the head pointing at your wrist and the tale toward your elbow. “Oh! Erm,” you give an embarrassed laugh. “That.”

“I knew you couldn’t be trusted.” Hideyoshi holds your arm up, inspecting it. “A thief. I should have guessed. What prefecture is this? Where are you really from?” The questions come lightning fast, his usual gentle lecturing tone replaced with a hard, brittleness that does not suit him at all.

“A thief? Are you serious right now?” You try to yank your arm back, going from bewildered to angry. 

Hideyoshi pulls you up to standing. “If you won’t answer my questions, maybe you’ll answer Mitsuhide’s.” He glares at you. “I can’t believe I - I called you my sister!” 

You take a breath, trying to hold in the tears suddenly threatening at the corners of your eyes. Sister. Why was this man so infuriating? First putting you in the sis-zone, and now accusing you. As if you hadn’t shared so many sweet moments. Almost-kisses. Holding hands. “Why are you freaking out about my tattoo?”

“It marks you as a criminal.” He sighs, looking away. “If you’ll come clean with me, maybe we can -”

“Come clean? Hideyoshi, I told you I’m not from here. In my ah, my village, people get tattoos because they like the way they look.” You wiggle your arm in his grasp. “This one means the cycle of life. Birth and death. Look at it!”

Hideyoshi slowly turns back to examine the mark on your arm. “It is . . . very finely done for a - a punishment.” He purses his lips. “And I do not know of a prefecture that uses a snake . . .”

You nod emphatically. “Exactly. And you know me. Hideyoshi?” Your tone brings his gaze to your face. 

He studies you for a moment. Then his grip loosens on your arm, the pad of his thumb stroking your inked flesh. “I may have, um, jumped to conclusions. My apologies.” A breath, then, “Sis.”

“Thanks.” You take your arm back, feelings still hurt. 

For a long moment, neither of you says anything. Then he drapes an arm over your shoulder, pulling you to his side. “Let me apologize properly, after work tonight. Stop by after your bath and I’ll rub some oil on your arms and legs.” Hideyoshi’s cheeks hold a faint heat. “A brother should care for his sister when she’s working so hard.”

You know he knows there’s nothing brotherly in the touches you share, but you nod in acquiescence. Then you pull away. “The garden won’t weed itself,” you say.

He grins. “I suppose not.” Hideyoshi’s hand takes yours before you can take a step. “It’s nice. Your tattoo. Once I really looked at it.”

“Thanks,” you smile back, feeling a little better. “I’m looking forward to my massage tonight.” You give him a cheeky wink. 

Masamune

You splash to the river’s surface, sputtering from the water in your mouth and nose. Masamune laughs beside you, his strong arm holding you up above the roiling surface of the water as the current pushes you both downstream.

“Maybe next time we should look for a bridge,” you shout to be heard over the river.

“Nah. Where’s the fun in that?” Masamune’s blue eye gleams with unfettered joy as he pulls you toward the opposite shore. 

Once you hit the bank and crawl out, you flop back onto the grassy hillside. “Fun? Not drowning is fun. And now I’m soaked.” You glance over to see Masamune already stripping down, laying his clothes out to dry. 

He grins when he sees your expression. “What’s the matter, kitten? Tiger got your tongue?”

“Pffft.” You sit up, ignoring the way your face heats. You shrug out of your kimono, very aware of how thin your linen underclothes are. Especially now that they are wet and clinging to your skin. 

Masamune’s appreciative look does not help. He grins unapologetically. “I should come out this way more often. Great view.”

You throw a clump of grass at him and jump up to run. He chases you, laughing, and catches you pretty quickly. 

His laughter stops with a sharp inhale. “Are you hurt?”

You realize that he’s noticed the ink on your side, a tiger in the midst of peonies. The red, pink, and orange probably look like a wound beneath the opaque cloth. “No, nothing like that.” You carefully tug the linen up to show him your tattoo. 

“Wow.” His eye is wide as he takes in the art piece. “Gorgeous.” His calloused finger brushes the skin on your side, sending a shiver across your belly and up your ribcage. “It’s like a painting.”

“Thanks.” You feel more than a little self conscious, but also gratified by his reaction. “It’s supposed to be, like, fragility and strength? Together?” You find yourself a little tongue tied, too focused on his warm hand touching you. 

Masamune finally looks up, catching your gaze. “It fits you, kitten. Strong and fragile.” His expression is more serious than you’re used to. A deeper emotion moves in the depths of his blue eye. 

The urge to kiss him is strong, but you resist. You tug the cloth back down and step away, heart beating frantically. Masamune likes to flirt, you think, that’s all. You wrack your brain for a witty comment and come up empty. 

He smiles, drops his hands. “Our clothes should dry out soon, and then we can continue on.”

“The temple better be awesome. You’ve talked it up too much to take anything less than.” Your destination is safer ground, you think, jumping right into the new topic.

Masamune laughs. “There’s not another like it anywhere.” Something about the way he says it makes you wonder if he means the temple you’re traveling to or something else. 

“Worth the trip then?”

He catches a bit of your damp hair and twirls it around a finger. “I’d say this trip is already worth it.”

[mphoenix-7]

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 14: The Cabin: Day 5 (pt. 5)

Summary: You and Soap go fishing, have some nice conversations, and get a little wet. Things seem to be changing between you.

Word Count: 8,311

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, swearing, strong language, animal death, fluff, mentions of poor past relationships

A/N: New chapter for you!! This one’s a little longer and full of nice moments 😊 Let me know if you’d like to be added to the Taglist!

Masterlist | <- Previous | Next ->

Bitter Allies • Part 14

By the time you'd gotten back to the cabin, you estimated it was nearing 1400-1500 hours. The sun was just beginning to move closer to the horizon, but there was still plenty of daylight left for fishing.

After dropping the backpack off inside, you found yourself back out in the woods looking for sticks that were both long enough and sturdy enough to fish with. So far you haven't had much luck. The sticks were either too rotted, too heavy, not long enough, or too flimsy.

Sighing softly, you toss another stick that turned out to be a dud to the ground. This one looked decent but felt a little too rotted. And sure enough, when it hits the ground, it snaps off about a fourth of the stick, making it too short now.

You grumble to yourself in frustration, continuing on with your search. You weren't expecting to catch any fish right away, but you honestly thought the preparation would be going a little faster than this.

Coming across yet another stick, you bend down to pick it up. This one actually feels sturdy and is a decent shape. You instantly start to get excited and hold it to show Soap.

"Hey! Would this work?" You ask, pulling him away from his own search momentarily.

He was a few yards away, searching out in the opposite direction that you had been. It doesn't look like he's found anything yet either. At least his hands are empty as he walks over to you to check out the potential spear. He glances it over really quick before taking it from you to inspect it closer.

"It's a little on the heavy side." He says, bouncing it a little bit in his hands to test out the weight. "If it's too heavy then you won't be able to thrust it fast enough to spear any fish. But I might be able to whittle away some of the weight to make it work."

"So does that mean it's good?" You ask slowly, hopefully. Any progression towards getting your fish dinner would be nice.

Soap chuckles softly and gives you a nod. "Yeah, this'll work. I'll start prepping it if you want to keep looking." He says, walking over to a nearby tree stump and sitting down.

You're grinning to yourself excitedly as Soap takes a seat on the stump. You only needed to find one more stick, maybe two if you wanted a backup, and then you'd out in the water.

Before you go back to searching though, you take a second to watch Soap as he lays the stick across his lap and as he pulls the knife from his pocket. He flicks it open with a practiced ease and gets to work on getting one of the ends into a sharp point. He's working quick enough that it looks like he's done something like this before.

"Where did you learn to fish this way?" You ask as you resume looking for suitable sticks.

Soap hums softly in thought, making three swipes with the knife before answering. "I think it was Price who showed me this way. Back a few years ago when I first joined up."

"Of course it was." You giggle. You could totally see Price being the kind of guy who liked to fish.

It was probably because of the boonie hat that he was always wearing.

“You do any fishing before that? The normal way with actual poles?" You ask, the question popping into your mind and leaving your lips without much thought.

Soap pauses mid-swipe, his knife hovering just above the wood. It's a brief moment, gone almost as quickly as it comes, but you catch the subtle hesitation before he resumes his work.

"Yeah... I used to go quite a bit with my dad." He answers slowly, returning to a steady pattern of swipes with the knife. "When I was young I remember going out a few times a month with him to go fishing. He was really into it, but after my mum died, I don't think we ever went again."

You stop your search for a moment to frown over at him. His eyes are glued to the stick he's working on though. You're having trouble reading him, not sure if this is a sensitive topic for him or not. He looked a little tense, but you can't tell if that's from the topic of your conversation or because he's hunched over whittling at a stick.

"Do you miss it?" You ask slowly, trying to keep up your search, but you're a little distracted now.

"Miss what?" Soap asks, finally glancing up at you. "Fishing? Not really." He shrugs, gaze dropping back down, the knife continuing its steady rhythm against the wood.

You frown a little bit. That wasn't really what you'd been asking. "I guess I meant it more like do you miss fishing with your dad." You elaborate.

"Oh, no. Maybe when I was a kid, but no. Don't really miss it now."

His response comes so quickly, so bluntly, that it catches you off guard. There's no hesitation, no flicker of emotion, just a flat dismissal. The ease with which he brushes it off makes you pause and take a moment to think over his response. You'd figured Soap and his dad must have been close, especially given how he spoke about his mom, but now you realize that might not be the case.

"Are you and your dad still close?" You ask softly, your search for sticks now completely forgotten for the time being.

Soap continued on with indifference though, pausing only to turn the spear over a few times to inspect his work. He was mostly done. The only thing that remained was to take off some spots that had the potential for causing splinters.

"No, we had a... falling out? I guess you could call it that." He says, blowing a quick puff on air onto the spear before shaving away at one spot.

You hesitate, trying to find the right words to respond. The way he brushes it off so casually leaves you a bit uneasy, but confident enough to keep asking about it. He didn't seem too upset by the topic.

"Falling out?" You echo, raising an eyebrow curiously. "What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

Soap's expression tightens just a fraction, the subtle shift the only sign that this topic is more difficult for him than he's letting on. You regret asking now.

His eyes remain locked on the spear, and the silence stretches uncomfortably between you. For a moment, you wonder if he'll respond at all, and you're on the verge of reassuring him that he doesn't have to say anything. But just as you're about to speak, he breaks the silence.

"It's... complicated." He sighs, his tone carefully tight and neutral. "Kinda a long story. Not a great one. Let's just say a lot changed after my mum died."

He's getting more tense more. You can see his shoulders stiffen and the once smooth swipes of his knife become rougher, more forceful. Whatever happened between Soap and his father, it clearly left behind a deep, lingering anger.

"Alright. Yeah, we don't have to talk about it." You say gently, giving him a reassuring half smile even though he wasn't currently looking at you to notice it.

"So uh.. how many sticks do you think we'll need? Do you think two will be good enough?" You want to steer the conversation away from the topic that had clearly made him uncomfortable.

It seemed to actually work too. The second you get off the topic of Soap's dad, he seems to relax, his shoulders dropping.

"Should probably do three just in case one breaks or something." He says, sitting upright and rolling his shoulders out. It looked as though he was getting rid of any remaining stress. "You find anymore yet? This one is just about done."

He holds it up, showing off his work. One end of the stick looks extremely sharp, and he's done a good job at shaving off parts of the stick to make it more comfortable to hold and use.

The whole time he's been working, you'd been distracted by your conversation. You had yet to find another one, but you also haven't looked very hard. Forcing your feet to leave the spot they'd been firmly planted at, you start trekking back through the area to look for more sticks.

"No, not yet. Most of the stuff here is pretty rotted." It sounds like an excuse, but you're also not completely lying. Most of the options thus far had been rotten.

Then of course you just happen to find a perfect candidate the second those words leave your lips. "Oh, wait, here's one." You bend down to pick it up.

Soap laughs softly, and you miss that he rolls his eyes a little bit. He was fully aware you hadn't even been looking. "Well bring it over. Just one more to go after this."

He sets the finished spear down next to the stump he's sitting on and holds out his hand as you bring the next stick to him. Setting it in his lap, he starts whittling away at it once more while you get back to looking for one more.

As he does, his mind drifts a bit, thinking back to his father and what happened. His hand tightens on the handle of the knife, but he forces himself to relax. He doesn't want to be angry.

It's been a while since he's had to think about the things that happened in his past. The longer he's out here, the more stuff seems to come up—things he's buried deep for a reason. It's not something he really wants to think about... if he can help it.

He clears his throat, shaking off his thoughts and looking back to you. "So States, you uh... you ever been fishing before?"

Your face lights up when he asks that, and you start to ramble on about how you grew up in the city, so you didn't have the chance to go often, but you went once with your grandpa. A whole retelling of the trip occurs after that, and Soap just listens on with a smile on his face.

***

You're sitting in the grassy patch near the lake out behind the cabin, removing your socks and stuffing them safely inside of your shoes. Soap is already out in the water, spear in hand, but he hasn't waded too far out yet. He's standing right along the shoreline, just enough for his toes to be fully submerged, waiting for you to join him.

"Steaming Jesus, for someone who was rushing me through making that last spear, you sure are slow as hell all of a sudden." He grumbles, looking back at you with a somewhat impatient look on his face.

You shoot him a look as you roll your pants up a bit higher. "That's because I'm not just tossing my stuff around like that." You say, nodding toward his shoes, which are haphazardly kicked off with his socks inside-out and scattered randomly nearby. "You know honestly it's hard to believe you're in the military with how messy you are sometimes."

Soap scoffs at you. "I'm not messy." He claims, but you just fold your arms across your chest and raise an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah? What about the suitcase in our room?"

The suitcase had remained unpacked by him. While you had neatly arranged your belongings in the dresser drawers, Soap hadn't unpacked a single item. Whenever he needed something, he'd dig it out, wear it or use it, and then by the end of the day, whatever he'd taken out was returned to the suitcase, tossed back into the growing pile that filled the entire bag.

"What about it?" Soap asks defensively. "That's not messy."

You can only drop your jaw at him, eyebrows raised in shock. "What do you mean that's not messy? It's just a big pile. You haven't put anything away since we got here."

"Better than it being on the floor. Besides, I see no need to unpack if we're only gonna be out here a week."

You scoff, shaking your head as you finish rolling up your other pant leg. "You could at least organize your stuff a little. That's all I'm saying."

Soap shrugs nonchalantly, waving a hand as if to dismiss the topic. "Eh, whatever. Just get your ass over here already before all the fish turn in for the night." He says, turning back to look out into the water to see if he can spot an area where they might be gathering.

Rolling your eyes, you push yourself up from the ground and grab your spear. The sun glimmers on the water, the wind creating gentle ripples on the surface. Despite the warm rays bearing down on you, the water is cool. As you step in, a shiver runs along your spine as the water laps against your bare feet.

The bottom of the lake is rather smooth, but there are a few sharp rocks that poke up into the bottoms of your feet. As long as you walk slowly though, it doesn't bother you too much. It's something you've gotten used to in your time here and during the few baths you've taken.

Soap looks back over his shoulder at you when he hears you enter the water, waiting until you're closer to him before he starts to wade out a little farther. "Come on, we're gonna have to go out a little deeper for bigger fish. Small ones probably aren't going to be worth catching."

"Alright, I'm coming." You call out, taking a few steps farther into the water.

When you get a little deeper into the water, you suddenly pause. There's a slight prickle at the back of your neck that makes you turn and reflexively glance back at the shoreline.

Last time you'd been out in the water, you'd been attacked by a bear. While you had managed to face your fear directly earlier, that didn't mean that the urge to check your surrounds to make sure it was safe was entirely gone. That urge would most likely always be there to some degree. It was just more manageable now.

When Soap doesn't hear the sounds of the water splashing behind him anymore, indicating that you weren't following him, he stops and looks back. You were still standing in the more shallow waters, staring off back towards the shoreline.

"Oi, States!" He calls out to get your attention. "You good?"

His voice pulls you out of your own head, and you jump a little bit as your gaze snaps back to his. You quickly try to shake off any remnants of fear and try to remind yourself everything was fine. Even if a bear did show up, you knew how to make it go away.

"Yep! Coming." You call back, trying to quickly catch up to him without making the water slosh too much.

Soap waits patiently for you to join him, his brows furrowed the slightly and eyes following your every movement. "Everything alright?" He asks again once you've caught up.

"Yeah." You nod dismissively, giving him a slight shrug.

You're about to just move past him, head out into deeper waters where the fish are going to be, but then suddenly Soap grabs your arm. The quick motion makes your heart leap in your chest, and the unexpectedness of it forces you stop in your track and look at him.

His eyes are sharp, analytical, and his grip on your arm is firm, but not painful. He pulls you closer, giving your arm a little tug, and your heart seems to start racing as you move closer to him.

"No bullshite. What's up?" He asks, eyes not leaving yours for a second. "Are you still worried about the whole bear thing?"

You honestly hadn't expected him to notice anything, let alone address it so directly, but the reply flies quickly off your tongue.

"No." You answer, shaking your head, but then think better of it. "Well, thinking about it, yes. Worried? Not as much as I was. It's just... It's still on my mind, just not as present." You try to explain. The fear is more of a shadow now, a subtle unease that lingers at the edges of your thoughts. More manageable.

"In other words, I'm fine. I'll be alright." You try to summarize. "Just can't completely turn it off."

Soap remains silent, his eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that makes you more nervous than the thought of another bear showing up. His gaze is so unwavering, so focused, that it feels like it's seeing right through you.

The longer he holds your gaze, the more your chest tightens, as if the air around you has thinned. You find yourself wanting to hold your breath, unsure if it's his concern or something else that's making your pulse quicken. Then he nods, a soft hum of acceptance leaving his lips.

"If being out here gets to be too much, just say the word. You've done a lot today, and I don't want to push you too much." His words cause an unexpectedly warm sensation to fill your chest, and your breath almost hitches when he squeezes your arm. "Deal?" He raises his brows, almost like he was saying he expected an answer.

"Mhmm." You hum, giving him a nod. You don’t want to rely on words right now. You don’t trust your voice.

Soap gives you a nod back, seemingly satisfied with your response. "Alright then." He mutters, his posture becoming more relaxed. His hand drops from your arm, and you notice there is a warm tingle left behind where he'd been touching you. "You ready to catch some dinner?"

You feel a sigh leaves your lips as you nod. You hadn't even realized you'd been holding your breath. "Yeah, let's get going." You add quickly, trying to hide your sudden nerves behind a smile.

Soap either doesn't notice anything or he just doesn't care enough to. He just gives you a single nod back and then turns and continues walking. You follow after him, moving slower the higher the water gets.

You stop when the water comes up just a few inches above your knees. For Soap the water was only to his knees, but he was taller than you. The area isn't too far from the shoreline, and the water is a little cloudy from you kicking up the dirt at the bottom of the lake.

"We'll try here first." Soap says, coming to a stop. "Get into a stance that's comfortable cause you're going to be holding it for quite a while."

"How long?" You ask curiously, adjusting your feet shoulder width apart. It was the most comfortable stance you can think of. Almost like parade rest, which is a stance you'd gotten used to holding for hours thanks to basics.

"However long it takes for the fish to move into this area." Soap answers, adjusting his own stance as well. He holds the spear with a loose grip, the tip lowered toward the water, but there's no tension. His fingers grip the stick lightly, though he is ready to snap the spear up in an instant if he sees something.

You try to mimic the way he's holding his spear. This is your first time doing something like this, and as simple as it sounds, it was going to be difficult to move fast enough to be able to snag a fish. They were quick and used to responding to the most minute movements.

"Am I doing this right?" You ask, making Soap glance over at you. He observes your posture and then leans over, tapping softly at your hand closer to the butt end of the spear.

"Move this hand back just a little. No, too far. Right there." He says, grabbing at your hand and moving it into position when you move it too much. "Perfect. Leave it like that." He holds up his hand, making a gesture to not move it, and then turns his gaze back to the water.

"Cool, thanks." You mutter, shifting back into your "ready to strike" stance. Your eyes are trained on the water, looking for any signs of movements, but the water is still very murky.

"What kind of fish do you think are even in this lake?" You ask absentmindedly, mostly just asking to help pass the time.

Soap shrugs a bit, his eyes not leaving the water. "Maybe cod? Not really sure. We probably shouldn't talk though. It might scare them off and keep them from swimming over here."

"Oh, sorry." You whisper, pressing your lips together.

Not being able to talk was going to make time pass by so slowly. For a long time, you just stare at the water, but that soon gets really boring. You try to distract yourself by looking up every now and then to look at the scenery around you, but that doesn't keep you occupied for long either.

Soon enough, you're sure at least ten minutes has passed. The water is clear now, but you still don't see any signs of fish. Your back is starting to hurt a bit from staying in the same posture for so long, and you find yourself trying to slowly roll out your shoulders to help ease the discomfort.

You glance over at Soap, wondering if he's feeling the same tension in his back that you were. If he was though, you can't tell. He hasn't moved a muscle since you both went silent, and he doesn't look like he's too uncomfortable yet.

Sighing softly, you relax your stance a bit. "Soap, maybe we should try a different area? There doesn't seem to be any fish over here." You whisper. It'd been quiet for so long it almost felt weird to talk.

Instead of answering you with words, Soap holds up his fist. You're a little confused at first, brows furrowing slightly, but then he points over to a spot a little off to his right.

"Over there. I think there's three or four of them. Wait until they get close." Soap whispers, his eyes not leaving the spot he's looking at.

Your eyes widen, and you quickly, but carefully, get back into your stance from earlier. All the pains from earlier are now gone with the new excitement you feel. You look over to the area where Soap pointed to, looking for the fish, but you can't see anything. Just a glint of sunlight on the water's surface.

"I don't see them." You whisper, eyes still scanning the water. Soap silently points again, his finger tracking their movement. You try to follow to where he's pointing at, and after a few seconds, you finally spot them—shadows just beneath the surface, moving slowly toward you.

You hum softly to let Soap know you can see them now, and his hand slowly returns to his spear. You see him coil up just slightly, shoulders tensed and ready to snap. He's almost like a loaded gun, just a trigger squeeze away from firing.

"When they're close enough, I'll count down." He whispers, his voice steady. "You go for the one closest to you."

You nod, your own muscles beginning to tense up with anticipation. Your heart is starting to pound a little in your chest from the sudden adrenaline, and you find yourself holding your breath. You feel like you're looking down the scope of a sniper rifle, trying to steady your aim so you can land the perfect shot.

"Ok get ready…” Soap whispers. “One... two... three."

When Soap says three, he snaps like a spring lock. The movement is so quick it feels like his spear was already in the water before you even had the chance to move. You did go the same time as him though, snapping your spear down with all the force you can muster. You feel it hit the bottom of the lake, water splashing up as you do. All the commotion also causes the first to stir up again, so you can't even tell if you've gotten anything or not. 

Soap quickly reaches down into the water, hand searching for only a second before a big grin spreading across his face. "I got one!" He laughs victoriously, pulling a fish up out of the water by its tail, the spear pierced right through its gills. "You get yours, States?" He asks, grunting a bit as the fish thrashes around.

"I'm not sure." You say, almost scared to reach blindly into the water. You've never touched a fish before, so you're a little hesitant. You can't feel anything moving at the end of your spear though.

"Let's have a look." Soap says, taking a step closer and reaching down to feel around. By now the fish on his spear has slid down a ways, so there was no way it was going to be able to wriggle off.

He follows the wooden shaft of the spear down, and your eyes dart between his face and the water, hoping he'd pull something out. After a few seconds, his hand comes back up out of the water empty.

"Nothing down there." He confirms, flicking the water off his hand a little bit.

"Dammit." You curse, frowning a bit as you withdraw your spear from the water. "I thought for sure I'd gotten it."

Soap chuckles softly, giving your shoulder a pat. His hand was still wet and leaves a little wet patch behind. "Ah, come on. You'll get it next time. Let's go put this one out of its misery and then we can try again, yeah? Gonna need a few anyways."

You pout over at him, not too happy that you didn't also catch a fish, but the look of joy on Soap's face makes your pout vanish instantly. His eyes were practically sparking as he looks proudly at the fish he caught. You find yourself smiling at him instead, a laugh bubbling in your chest.

"How many are you planning on catching?" You chuckle, turning and walking with him back to the shoreline.

"If they're all this size," he says, holding up his spear a little. "Then I could probably eat like four of them."

You watch the fish flop around, noting its size. It's not particularly large—maybe eight to ten inches long—and you're not even sure what kind of fish it is. It has brown scales and a white underbelly. You can't imagine catching anything much bigger in this lake.

"If you want to spend time catching four for yourself, knock yourself out." You chuckle, stepping up onto the shore. The dirt and sand stick to your feet. "I might actually catch one by the time you get to four."

Soap rolls his eyes, sliding the fish off his spear and holding it by the gills. "You'll get one next time. It's your first time fishing like this. Don't be so hard on yourself." He pulls out his knife as he talks, jabbing it into the head of the fish to kill it and then slicing the gills to start bleeding it out. Even though you're on the military and see death a lot, you still have to look away as he does.

"We'll see." You sigh, looking back out to the lake. "Are we going to the same spot?"

"Nah, we should probably try somewhere else. Let me finish prepping this fish and then we can head out again. Unless you want to try a spot. Might have better luck catching something without me catching in the same area." He suggests.

You nod, mostly cause you don't really want to hang around as he guts the fish. Plus you know that fish don’t stay fresh for very long after you kill them, so the faster you can get a couple and cook them, the better.

"I'll head back out. Try to get a head start." You joke, glancing back down at Soap and wincing as he slices open the belly.

"Alright, catch up with you in a bit." Soap says, his focus solely on the fish before him now.

You grimace just a little before turning and head back out into the water, searching for another spot to fish.

***

You've been standing in the same spot for what feels like an eternity, though it's only been about fifteen minutes. Twice you've had a chance to spear a fish, but both times you missed. It's frustrating, especially since you've watched Soap haul two more fish back to shore in that time.

You're starting to wonder what you're doing wrong. Is it your aim, the timing, or something else?

The water laps quietly around your ankles, the stillness almost mocking your lack of success. You try to focus, adjusting your stance and grip on the spear.

Another fish is swimming towards you, gliding slowly through the water. Taking a deep breath and holding it, you wait until it's close enough, then thrust the spear down as fast as you can. The water splashes up around you, and you can hear the fish's tail flick up above the surface. But when everything settles, you still just have an empty spear.

"Fuck!" You yell out. It was a little louder than you intended it to be, the sound seeming to echo across the small alcove you found yourself in. Now you would have to move into another area, wait ten minutes for a fish to swim over, and try again.

As you pull your spear free and wipe off the little bits of sediment that were left on it still, you can hear a soft chuckle behind you. Turning in irritation, you send a glare over to Soap, who was leaning up against a tree and watching you. How long he'd been there, you don't know, but he had seen you miss apparently.

"Did it get away from ya?" He asks, his arms crossed and spear still in hand. His feet looked dry though, so you assume he's just finished gutting one and is just returning for another trip.

"Does it look like I got it?" You raise your brows at him. "This is fucking hard."

Soap chuckles again, clearly amused by your misery. "It's not that hard, lass."

"Says the guy who's caught three already."

"Four, actually." He corrects you, which makes your jaw drop. When did he get four? You swear you've only seen him make two trips.

"What the fuck?! How are you getting so many?"

Soap shrugs, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "You just stab them when they get close." You give him a look at his horrible advice, which only makes his smirk widen. You wish you could wipe that smirk off his face somehow.

"I've been doing that." You grumble, about to further complain, but then Soap's eyes leave yours, darting down to the water.

"There's another one swimming up to you now." Soap says, nodding indistinctly towards the water.

Your attention snaps back to the water, searching for the fish that Soap spotted. It takes a moment, but then you see it—the dark shape gliding just beneath the surface, moving slowly past you. You steady your stance, grip tightening on the spear as you line up the shot.

Then you move, a splash erupting around you, and you feel a brief resistance—but when you reach into the water to try and retrieve the fish, it's already darting away.

"Damn it!" You exclaim, frustration bubbling up as the water settles back into calmness. You're tired and hungry, you just want to catch something—anything, even if it's just a tiny fish.

Soap lets out a soft huff, the grin still plastered to his face. He's having fun watching you fail. "Need some help there, lass?" He offers, a teasing note in his voice.

You shoot him a glare, crossing your arms over your chest. "I don't need help." You grumble defensively, though it doesn't seem to faze him in the slightest.

“Right." He chuckles, turning the tip of his spear down and driving it into the dirt. "Let me show you something that might help." He says, carefully stepping down into the water and making his way over to you.

You sigh and fold your arms across your chest but withhold your protests. As much as it pained you to admit, a few pointers might be nice. You were willing to do anything at this point it if meant you'd finally catch something. That doesn't mean you don't fully intent on giving Soap a hard time about it though.

Soap ignores your expression, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considers the best way to help you. "Alright, first things first," he begins, stepping closer. "You need to wait until the fish is in a good range before you to strike. You'll be faster and more accurate if you hit it at the right angle. My speed at a forty-five degree angle is much faster than like ninety."

He makes the thrusting motions with a ghost spear, acting out how he would move for each angle he's talking about. You felt like you had a pretty good angle you were moving at, so that couldn't be the problem. Still, you nod along as Soap explains, letting him continue.

"Next, when you drive the spear forward, use the hand at butt of the spear to control the thrust." He takes a step closer to you, the water sloshing around him as he does. He takes your hand and places it on the spear, positioning it exactly where he wants it.

"That's where all the power comes from—it gives you that snap you need." He continues, his eyes meeting yours briefly. His voice is a little lower now that he's closer. "The hand up front," he pauses to grab your other hand for emphasis. "That's what guides it. So keep the hand at the front steady and loose so you can guide it, and the back one firm. Got it?"

You half glance towards your spear, looking at the way Soap has placed your hands. His are still right next to yours, holding it with you. "Yeah, I think I got it." You answer him.

"Good. Lastly," Soap lets go of the spear, and before you can even react, he's directly behind you, arms wrapped around you while he grabs ahold of the spear again.

Your eyes widen, and you know you have to be blushing. Your heart is pounding too hard in your chest for you to not be. Then you feel his chest against your back, and your stomach practically flips. It's the same feeling you had last night in your dream when...

You shake your head, trying to immediately erase that thought and focus on what Soap was saying instead. It's hard though when his lips are practically against your ear, making your thoughts just spiral more. 

"When you aim for the fish, remember that water bends light. The fish isn't exactly where it looks like it is. You need to aim slightly lower than where you think. So for example... do you see that rock?" He says, pausing momentarily while he searched for something to use as practice.

You nod, trying to ignore the pounding of your heart as you focus on the rock he's pointing out. "Yep. I see it."

"Pretend that rock is a fish." He instructs. "Now, if you were aiming directly at it, you'd miss. You've got to aim just below it. Like this." He guides your hands, tilting the spear just a fraction lower than where the rock appears and then pushing it forward. When it hits the bottom, instead of sinking into the sandy lake bottom, it hits the hard surface of the rock instead.

"Huh." You breath. No wonder you'd been missing every single time. You had been aiming right for the fish, not below where you should have been. Knowing this right off the bat would have solved so many problems.

Soap chuckles softly, trying to lean around you a bit to see your face better. "You were aiming right at the fish this whole time, weren't you?" He asks. You don’t need to see his face to know he’s grinning.

You huff and stand back up, turning around in his hold. When he doesn’t let go of your hips right away, you press your hand into his chest and push him away.

“Of course I was! Who just thinks about that when it's their first time spear fishing?" You argue back, starting to feel just a little defensive.

Soap's chuckle deepens, a low rumble in his chest. "Guess I just assumed you knew." He shrugs. "It's just like sniping, I thought it'd be second nature to you."

"Sniping is nothing like this!" You argue, crossing your arms. "With sniping, your target is far away, not just a few feet below you. And if it was, you'd just aim directly at it."

"Fair point," Soap concedes, holding his hands up in surrender. "I thought of it more like when you're a sniper, you notice subtle things, like light reflection, that might change how you aim."

You huff again, rolling your eyes. "Well, maybe if you'd mentioned that earlier, I wouldn't have missed so many times."

Soap's grin only widens. "Oh, but where's the fun in that, lass? I've got to admit, it's been pretty entertaining watching you throw a little fit every time you miss."

"Is that so?" You challenge, narrowing your eyes at him. The playful smirk on his face only fuels your irritation.

You'd been out here all day, and Soap hadn't thought to say a word until now about what could have caused your lack of success. And now he was laughing about it and calling it entertaining?

"Absolutely, hen. It's down right adorable when you're piss- h-hey!"

Before he can finish, without a second thought, you reach down and scoop up a handful of water, splashing it right at him. Soap holds his hands up to block the onslaught of water, but it doesn't help much to stop it.

"States! What the fuck?" He grumbles, looking back at you with an angry expression. He had a few drops running down the side of his face, dripping down onto the collar of his shirt, which was also dotted with some wet spots now.

You can't help it. While he stands there, looking annoyed, a giggle escapes your lips, quickly followed by more as you shrug innocently. "Just creating some more entertainment." You say, the laughter bubbling up uncontrollably now.

Soap narrows his eyes at you, and before you can react, he's scooping up an even larger wave and splashing you right back. You shriek as the cold water hits you, making the giggles cease. The wave he'd sent over was much bigger than the one you did. The entire side of your shirt was soaked now.

You stand there for a moment in shock, staring down at the water and watching the little ripples that form on the surface as droplets drip off your face. When your gaze flicks back up to Soap, he's smirking again, soft chuckles leaving his lips.

You glare at him, skin starting to prickle up as a small breeze blows by. Never one to back down and let Soap win whatever dispute you were having, you quickly splash him again, wanting to wipe that smirk right off his face.

It takes him by surprise this time, hitting him square in the chest. He gasps a little, and you hold your hands over your mouth. You hadn't meant to splash him that much, he was soaked now.

Instantly his laughter stops, and you're both frozen, just staring at each other. Then Soap's face shifts into a little scowl, and you know you shouldn't have splashed him again.

"I'm sorry, I didn't meant to splash you that much." You say quickly, but it does nothing. Soap's muscles tense just slightly, and that's all the warning you need.

You don't think—you just run.

The water slows you down significantly, splashing up around your legs as you push through it. You can hear the intense splashing behind you as Soap runs after you, and for whatever reason, laughter starts to bubble in you.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You cry out between nervous giggles, not quite sure what Soap was going to do once he caught you, and you were sure he would. For one, your legs were shorter than his, which meant more resistance from the water. And second, Soap was faster than you in general.

"Soap please! I didn't mean it! I'm sorry!" You pled again, risking a glance back over your shoulder.

He's right behind you. You scream and try to dart to the side, but it's too late. He grabs you, and in one fluid motion, he pulls you toward him. The impact sends you both falling, but as you head towards the water, Soap twists at the last second, taking the brunt of the fall himself.

You both plunge into the water with a splash, the cool liquid enveloping you entirely for a brief moment. The shallow depth allows you to quickly sit up, and you gasp for air as you resurface. Water cascades down your face, and once you've taken a breath, laughter starts to pour out of you uncontrollably. Soap is still beneath you, the two of you tangled together in a mess of limbs and soaked clothes.

You're laughing so hard you can barely breathe, your stomach aching from it. "Soap, I'm—" you try to apologize through your giggles, but the words fail. Instead, you attempt to push yourself up, but your limbs feel weak from laughter, and it's a little slippery, making it a futile effort. You just end up twisting around clumsily and straddling him instead, your shoulders shaking with breathless amusement.

Soap wipes the water off his face as his pops up, and once he gets his bearings, he starts to laugh too. Instinctively, he grabs ahold of your hips to steady you as you turn around and slip into his lap. You grab ahold of his shoulders, still laughing as you look down at him.

Droplets cling to his eyelashes, and his usually styled hair is plastered messily to his forehead. His eyes crinkle at the sides, and his smile is so contagious as he laughs.

"Think you're funny, do you?" He teases, the laughter in his voice betraying any attempt at seriousness.

"Maybe just a little." You manage to gasp out, still giggling as you start to your breath.

Soap shakes his head, a soft smile curving his lips as his grip on your hips tightens ever so slightly. "You're a menace, States."

There's something in the way he says it—playful but warm. Your giggles start to fade, and for a moment, you're just sitting there, looking at him, still breathing heavy from exertion and laughter. For the first time you notice the subtle flecks of green amidst the blue in his eyes.

Soap is staring right back at you, and you almost don't realize it until you feel his hand against your cheek, brushing back the wet strands of hair that cling to the side of your face.

Your heart skips in your chest, and a warmth starts to spread through you, making you forgot that you're sitting in cold water. "You bring it out in me." You chuckle, earning a smile from Soap in return.

He laughs softly, shaking his head just a little bit. "Oh, so I'm a bad influence now? Guess you should stay away from me then." 

"Well, you're not so bad to be around." You say quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

The words hang in the air, and Soap's smile falters, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

The space between you seems to be getting smaller, cause suddenly, you can feel his breath against your lips. The warm and steady puffs mingle with your own, and your pulse starts to quicken. You can't tell who is pulling towards who.

You don't know who makes the final move, but suddenly his lips are on yours—firm, warm, and insistent. The world around you melts away, the cool water forgotten as you deepen the kiss, melting into his soft warm lips.

His one arm slowly wraps around you, the other one staying behind him to keep you both propped up. He pulls you towards him, thumb brushing your hip as you wiggle a little closer.

Your hands move from gripping his shoulders to gently resting on the sides of his neck. Your thumbs brush lazily along his jaw, which draws out a very soft, almost mute, hum from him.

There's a quiet desperation in the way you both move, as if this kiss had been building for longer than either of you realized. You don't know how you keep circling back to this. Caught between trying to set a boundary but consistently overstepping it. Even now, you know somewhere deep in your subconscious you shouldn't do this, but you can't seem to stop.

You feel teeth gently dig into your bottom lip, and you whimper, eyes fluttering open slightly. You see Soap, his eyes shut, and you can barely make out his lips as he pulls gently at yours.

He releases it and looks up at you, his eyes heavy, clouded with what you can only pin down as desire. You search for something to say, something to explain and make sense of what is happening between you, but you can't.

"We should probably stop." Soap says gently, though his eyes still hold that heavy, lingering gaze.

You nod a little, eyes not leaving his. "Yeah... probably." You agree, but you make no move to get up, and he makes no move to push you off him.

It's only when you shiver slightly that Soap seems to snap out of whatever daze he's in. His eyes soften quickly, and he smiles at you, a light chuckle leaving his lips. "Alright, let's get you out of this chilly water, hen."

You blink a little to clear your head and then nod again. "Yeah... yeah." You chuckle softly, only now realizing how cold the water is making you. "Guess I am getting a little cold."

Just as you're about to shift off his lap, intending to create some much-needed distance, Soap suddenly stands up, bringing you with him. You yelp in surprise, instinctively wrapping your arms and legs around him as he lifts you effortlessly out of the water. His arms tighten around you, pulling you close against his chest, his body radiating warmth despite the cool water dripping off both of you.

"Soap! What are you doing?" You laugh, clutching onto him as he strides through the water.

"Getting you out of the water, obviously." He teases, his voice light as he carries you effortlessly toward land.

You lean back slightly to you can look at him, raising a brow at him. "I can walk, you know." You're trying to be serious, but you can't hide the laugh in your tone.

"Yeah, I know. But this is more fun." Soap winks, a playful grin on his face as he reaches the edge of the water. It makes your cheeks burn slightly, and you hope he doesn't notice.

As he steps onto solid ground, he begins to lower you down. Your legs unwrap from around his hips, and your body slides against his as you come down. The sensation sends a shiver through you that has nothing to do with the cold clinging to your skin.

You expect him to let go immediately, but he doesn't. His hands stay on your hips, keeping you close to him, and you make no effort to pull away from him.

"There you go." He says softly, a hint of a smile still lingering on his face.

You continue to stand there and roll your eyes at him. "Thanks for the assist." You joke, unable to keep your chuckle down.

Soap smiles back at you, chuckling softly himself. "Anytime, hen." He hums, his eyes suddenly flicking down away from yours. He pauses for a moment, and you wonder what’s running through his head. What he’s thinking about.

“We should see if we can get one fish more before we start cooking.” He says instead, finally looking back up. “But you should probably change first. I can see your tits."

It takes a second for his words to fully register, but when they do, your gaze quickly snaps down. Sure enough, you can see practically everything through your wet shirt. The water makes your shirt cling to your body. Even though it's a darker colored shirt, you can still see the outline of your bra, and the dip of the valley between your breasts.

You gasp and quickly cross your arms to shield yourself, which only makes Soap laugh. The bastard had just been staring at your chest this whole time. You glare at him, your face practically feeling like it's on fire.

"You ass! And here I thought we were having a nice moment!"

Soap laughs harder. "It was very nice for me." He shrugs, earning himself a firm punch to his shoulder, one that he gladly takes.

@the-faceless-bride @venavanup @hotthankss @daemondoll

[h-33-s-3-ung]

Adventure in the fitting rooms

Jay smut MDNI

Synopsis: it’s your birthday so your boyfriend takes you to your favorite boutique and is willing to buy you everything but he has something else planned.

Warnings: public sex, exhibitionism, dirty talk. (Lmk if something is missing)

Word count: ≈2200

"Good morning princess"

That was the first thing you heard the second you woke up. Jay, your boyfriend of now 2 years was sitting next to you in bed patiently waiting for your slumber to be over.

"Guess what day it is today" Jay asked with a slight smirk on his face.

You were still half asleep so the only thing you could respond was:

"It’s Saturday?"

"Awn are you still sleepy? It’s your birthday today! Did you forget?"

Your eyes grew wide as you realized you had forgotten your own birthday. Yet, you were happy that your sweet boyfriend remembered it.

"I have a surprise for you, come with me." Jay said making a follow me gesture with his hand.

You rubbed your eyes as you walked out of your room.

"TA-DA" Jay exclaimed making you jump slightly.

Jay has prepared a giant breakfast just for you with everything you loved. There were pancakes covered in maple syrup and whipped cream, strawberries, raspberries, bacon, sausage and of course an iced coffee.

You were now fully awake and jumping from joy.

"OMG Jay you did all this by yourself? It looks so good!" You said, your mouth watering intensely as you sat down in front of the giant plate.

"Dig in!" He responded sitting to your left.

Without waisting a single second, you took your knife and fork and quickly cut out a piece of pancake. Making sure you got all the toppings and fruits in your bite and your shoved it in your mouth. Your eyes closed and your body went limp for a few seconds as you were tasting all your favorite things all at once.

"It’s good?" Jay asked curiously.

"Words can’t even describe the taste, it’s just magical" you responded mouth still full.

Jay found you funny and adorable eating like a little kid, mouth covered and dancing at the good flavour.

"Can I get a bite?" Your boyfriend asked in a cute tone.

You prepared a piece with once again all the toppings and brought it close to his mouth before stopping suddenly.

"What…" your boyfriend asked confused at your sudden action.

"Airplane!" You simply responded. "Whrrrrriiiiii!" You imitated the sound of an airplane while moving the fork closer to your boyfriends mouth. He sight but opened his mouth cutely. You were dying of laughter at your boyfriend’s reaction and gave him a soft kiss on his cheek.

You were done with your plate shortly after and thanked your boyfriend for making such an amazing breakfast.

"Wait, I have one more surprise for you…" He responded mysteriously.

He gave you a small envelope with your name written on it and a heart in the top right corner. You thought it would just be an ordinary card like the previous ones, describing his endless love for you. But there was more than just a cute message inside.

"You’re not serious, are you?" You asked your mouth hanging open.

He shrugged his shoulders and gave you a sweet look. Inside the card was a 1500$ gift card to your favorite luxury boutique. You couldn’t hide your excitement anymore and jumped in his arms kissing him all over his face thanking him over and over again.

"Can we go now Jay, pretty please?" You asked in a cute tone.

"Of course darling. Go get ready and we can go." He replied still smiling.

You gave him one last kiss before going to the bathroom to do your makeup and put on a cute dress.

20 minutes later

"Okay I’m ready!" You exclaimed from behind the couch where your beautiful boyfriend was sitting. He got up, turned around, and froze.

"Wow! How do you look so pretty?" He said in admiration.

You were wearing a black dress and a red corset that accentuated your beautiful curves.

"Thank you baby." You shyly responded.

"Okay let’s go before I change my mind for some dirty stuff." Jay said grabbing your hand and walking out the door.

The car ride there was about 15 minutes and you were blasting his group’s last album, dark blood, the whole time. Jay glanced at you laughing at your cuteness a few times. He could watch you dance to their songs for hours and never get tired, but he was driving so he sadly has to pay attention.

"Alright we’re here. You can get anything you want but one condition." He said.

"What is it?" You asked confused.

"You let me pick a lingerie set for you and you must try it on in front of me, got it?" He said seriously, holding your chin.

You were practically drooling at the idea and all you could respond was "okay"

“Let’s go!" He said, his expression immediately changing to his usual soft and cute expression whenever he’s out with you.

You opened the door and was immediately greeted by the employee there, she knew you and your boyfriend very well. Not only because she was a big fan of Enhypen but also because over the time. She had become your friend since you were so kind to everyone. You hugged her immediately as a greeting.

"Are you guys looking for anything?" She kindly asked

Jay got down to your level and whispered in your ear "go check out the clothes and shoes, I will check the lingerie okay?" You nodded and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before making your way to the shoe section first.

"I’m looking for some lingerie for my girlfriend. It’ her birthday today." He told her proudly.

"Oh I see. Follow me I’ll show you what I think will suit her best." She responded kindly.

•

You arrived in the shoe section and immediately spotted a pair you had been wanting for years. Some black heels with a small platform at the front and some pearls around the opening where your foot goes. You immediately checked if there was your size in stock and lucky for you, there was a pair. You tried them on and they were absolutely perfect. No second thought. You had to get them. Plus they were on sale at 350$ instead of 600$. "What a steal" you thought to yourself.

Happy, you made your way to the dress section. Wandering around trying to spot something you liked. Bingo! There it was. The dress you showed jay a few weeks ago. It was exactly your style. Black and white with lace on the top and on the border of the skirt. You looked for your size and, it was definitely your lucky day today, because there was one last dress in your size. It was 250$. Luckily your boyfriend had given you this gift card otherwise you could never afford these on your own.

"Y/N, Baby! I found something!" You heard your boyfriend say from a far.

You quickly made your way towards the direction of his voice and found him next to a fitting room with a lingerie set in his hands.

"Milady." He said bowing down like a prince.

Thank you good sir. Would you like to join me perhaps?" You said elegantly.

"Hell yeah." He said, breaking character suddenly.

"Look at what I found!" You said happily as you showed him your dress and shoes.

"Wow they are so beautiful. How much were they?" He asked.

"600$ together, 350 for the shoes and 250 for the dress." You responded.

"Can I see the shoes on?" He asked

You put them on and posed like a mannequin happily.

"They were made for you. It makes you taller!" He said laughing.

"Oh shut up." You replied also laughing.

"Okay the dress now and keep the shoes." He said.

You did as he said, asking him to turn around so that it would be a surprise.

"Okay, look!" You said. Tapping your feet in excitement as he did.

"OH MY- Damn baby." He said admiring your curves accentuated by the expensive dress.

"What do you think?" You asked seductively yet cutely.

"I think it’s making me hard. Look." He pointed down to his pants where you could see a tent forming.

"Do I look this good?" You asked him bending down to show your cleavage a little more.

"If only you could see what I’m seeing." He said almost drooling.

You blushed and started kissing him.

"Wait, I have an idea. Take the dress off, keep the shoes, and put on this lingerie set I chose for you." He got closer to your ear and continued "Then, if you agree, we can have a little session here."

"What if she catches us?" You said, talking about the employee that is also your friend.

"That’s what’s so exciting about it. Last time, when we fucked at the dorm and you heard Heeseung approaching the room and calling my name, I felt you tighten around me. I know you like the idea of doing it when other’s are around. Plus, you can muffle your moans in your dress." He explained.

He wasn’t wrong. So, you quickly took the dress off and changed into the lingerie Jay had chosen for you. He was touching his erection over his pants as he watched you change, making you wet.

"How do I look?" You asked giving him a twirl.

"Delicious." He simply replied pulling his dick out of his pants.

"That looks delicious too." You replied. "Can I suck it?" You asked.

"No. It’s your birthday. I just want to make you feel good and not slow things down." He said looking at you with siren eyes.

He pulled you in closer by the waist and kissed your lips and your neck before turning you around so you were facing the mirror.

"I want you to look at yourself while I fuck you. Okay?" He said.

You simply nodded in response. He then pushed the underwear part of your matching lace set to the side before inserting his long and thick cock inside. His hand was on your mouth as he knew you wouldn’t be able to contain your moans. You saw as your face contorted in pleasure, your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes rolling at the back of your head. What a sight for your boyfriend who’s eyebrows did the same as yours and his mouth hung opened from the sensation.

"You feel so good baby" you whimpered softly.

"Oh yeah? You like it? You like it when I fuck your tiny pussy in public? Huh?"

You only moaned in response. Luckily the music in this store was a little bit loud so your sinful noises were hidden by it.

Jay picked up the pace as he felt you tighten around his length in response to his dirty talk.

"You’re gonna cum already? You’re gonna make a mess on the floor for me princess?" He said in a deep voice next to your ear.

"Yes." You managed to moan softly in response. As you came all over his dick and leaked a little on the floor and your brand new expensive set.

"I’m gonna cum. Wanna suck me off now?" He asked out of breath.

You got on your knees and wrapped your mouth around him just in time as he came almost instantly. You hummed at his taste as he moaned softly, from the intense orgasm.

"Let’s clean you and the floor up so we won’t be suspicious." He proposed.

You took a few tissues out of your purse and wiped the floor first then your folds.

"Wait, the lingerie is all wet. I can’t take it off and show her." You said concerned.

"No problem, here" He said removing the tag. "I’ll give her the tag and explain you wanted to keep it on, okay?"

"You’re so smart MR Park." You said giving him a hug.

Jay got out of the fitting room with all your new purchases, you, on the other hand, stayed inside to get dressed.

•

"Here, I’ll pay for it while she get’s dressed." He explained to the employee.

"No problem. Everything fitted?" She asked.

"Perfectly. Oh and she kept the lingerie set on since she loved it so much but here’s the tag." He explained

"Oh no problem at all." She said innocently, not knowing the real reason behind it.

You came out of the fitting room soon after as if nothing happened.

"There you go. I wish you both an amazing day and a happy birthday to you y/n." She said smiling brightly.

"Thank you so much. See you next time!" Your boyfriend responded.

"Bye! Have an amazing day!" You responded giving her a warm hug and waving goodbye.

"We’ll that was hot." You told your boyfriend as you walked back to your car.

"Happy birthday princess. We should do this every year." He responded.

"Sure." You replied hugging his arm as you continued your short walk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There is the story for jay! Hope you like it. I’m quite proud of this one to be honest. I’ll try my best to keep writing stories. If you have any suggestions for the other members, let me know! Love you.❤️

[wizard-on-whales]

Whiskey and Tea (Arthur Morgan x f!reader)

No warnings just fluff

Word Count - 1500

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Arthur Morgan was a powerhouse of a man, but even those needed to rest now and then. But the thought of that seemed to escape not only his understanding but also several other members of the gangs as well. You watched as he came in and out of camp at all times of the day. He was always out fetching things for others and hardly ever got time to himself. The second he did usually ended in Miss. Grimshaw or Dutch hassling him for being lazy or someone asking him for a favor. Even after everything Arthur had done for everyone, he could hardly get a second of peace. 

You were sitting at the fire, your hands occupied with the piece of wood you were attempting to carve into a figure for Jack. Arthur had been in camp for a few hours, busying himself with chores others avoided, like carrying the haybales or fetching water for the wash station. Finally, he decided to sit across from you at the fire. Arthur watched the flames burn, the embers swirling into the sky, mixing with the colors of the oncoming dusk. His shoulders slumped with exhaustion, and the heavy bags under his eyes made you question when he had last slept. He let out a noticeable sigh and wiped his hand over his face, rubbing his eyes slightly. The dance of the fire and soft lullaby from Javier's guitar seemed to be rocking him to sleep. Not long after he sat down, Dutch decided to waltz up to him, a plan clearly in mind. 

“Come on, Arthur, get that man of action back! Get out there and do something! I've got a lead you can check out for me.” You felt anger rise in your chest, and your hands clutched the carving in your hand tightly, your knuckles turning white. You had to physically hold back from chucking the object at Dutches head. Arthur hesitated for a moment before sighing and getting up from his spot, not wanting to disappoint his halfway father figure. 

“Sure, what is it?” Arthur listened to Dutch rattle off whatever idea he had as the two of them walked away from the fire. After they were done speaking, Arthur marched towards his horse, stopping to brush her off first. Before he could mount and head off, your own idea formed. 

You hadn't been with the gang long, only a few months. Dutch and Arthur had been the ones who found you tied up in a cabin in the freezing mountains of the grizzlies. Bounty hunting was a risky job. You knew that and were willing to take the risks, but you also know you made a mistake going after Colm. The Van Der Lindes luckily went after him only a few days after you and attacked the camp they had set up in an abandoned town, finding you in the process. Despite Arthur saving you, the two of you had hardly spoken. But it didn't take much observing to realize Arthur wasn’t exactly the chatty type. 

“Arthur!” You called out, watching him turn your way, “Leaving so soon?”

“Yeah,” He awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and adjusted his hat, “Dutch asked me to help him with something.” 

“Well, before you run off, could you help me with something first?” Arthur thought about it before putting the brush in his hand back down.

“I suppose, whatchu need, girl?” Instead of answering him, you smiled happily and walked off in the opposite direction, hoping he'd follow. Which, of course, like a lost puppy, he did. You marched right through the front doors of Shady Bell, up the old, rotting stairs, and into Arthur's room, “Why we goin’ to my room? We gonna need ammo or somethin’?

“Or something,” You walked up to his bed and sat on the edge, patting the spot next to you. He gave you a dazed look, tilting his head quizzically, but compiled and sat down. 

“You know…I ain't a good therapist if you're wanton’ to talk about somethin’,” He rubbed his sweaty palms across the fabric covering his knees. 

“I ain't here to talk, Arthur,” You brought your hands up to his shoulders, your fingers slowly massaging the tight muscles hiding under his clothes. He tensed at first but quickly relaxed under your touch, “You're always running off doin’ things for people, but you never give yourself time to relax. I ‘bout shot Dutch when he came up to you at the fire.”

“So you dont really want nothin’?” Arthur didn't look at you but instead closed his eyes and leaned in closer to you. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest and felt his breath catch in his throat. Arthur had found you exceptionally attractive from the second he laid eyes on you. And he had spent the last few months avoiding you because of it. He knew trying to speak to you would mean flushed cheeks and unclear sentences, so he kept to himself. But now, here you were, sitting on his bed, giving him a massage, and he was too damn tired to feel flustered or to really realize what was happening. 

“I do want somethin’... I want you to relax and get some sleep for once in your goddamn life. Take your vest off,” Arthur didn't say anything in response but did as he was told and took the vest off. He could feel your fingers working at the tight knots better now that it was just the thin fabric of his shirt left. The two of you sat in silence for a while as your hands traveled up and down his back, occasionally stopping just to scratch your nails across it. You could tell Arthur was slowly nodding off. 

“Darlin’?” You say sweetly, pulling him out of his trance. He just hummed in response, “You wanna lay down?”

Arthur nodded and stretched before finally opening his eyes and looking at you. You gave him a soft smile and reached up, pulling his hat off before setting it on the small table he had next to his bed and lying down. You patted your chest, offering it as a pillow, which he gladly accepted and laid down. One of your hands rubbed his back, and the other made its way into his hair. You played with it softly, making it a little messier than it already was. Arthur's breathing got heavier soon after laying down, and you could hear quiet snores rising from him. You smiled to yourself and kissed the top of his head before closing your eyes and dozing off. 

Sometime during the night, your position changed. Arthur's arm now hung heavily over your middle, pressing your back flush against his solid chest. You stirred slightly, trying to blink the sun out of your eyes as you remembered where you were. You could still hear Arthur's quiet breathing behind you, so you assumed he wasn't awake yet. The moment was peaceful. With Arthur's soft sounds, the comforting arm safely holding you, and the songs from birds flowing in through the broken window. You sighed contently and rubbed the lingering sleep out of your eyes before feeling Arthur pull you closer. 

“Good mornin’,” Arthur's voice was still laced with sleep, making it deeper than normal. You felt your heart jump and your face warm. Although you had admitted to yourself that Arthur was attractive, you had pushed down any other thought of the man. He had been your friend, ally, and nothing more. But the security of his grasp and the sound of his voice made it hard to push your feelings down. It made you crave something more. 

“Morning,” You turned in his arms so that you were no longer facing the room but facing him. His caramel hair was tousled, and his eyes were heavy, not from lack of sleep but from what was still lingering. He gave you the softest smile, revealing more of his true colors to you. Not some big rough outlaw, not the camp workhorse, but a man who just needs a little love. You smiled back, admiring the beauty of his eyes. The sunbeams shining through the window hit them just right, making them look like the sea. You reached up to push a few stray hairs out of his face, “Did you finally get some sleep, cowboy?”

“I did, thanks to you,” He returned the favor and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, “I guess I should help you out more often.” You laughed slightly, resting your hand on his face, scratching his beard. He closed his eyes and hummed in appreciation. 

“And I guess I should ask for your help more often,” It was Arthur's turn to let out a small chuckle, and without thinking, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. He quickly realized what he had done and pulled back as fast as he had leaned forward. His eyes widdened as he released his grip and sat up, scratching the back of his head. 

“I-Im sorry I wasn't thinkin’...I guess I-,” Arthur stumbled over his words, you cut him off by kissing him again. He stiffened for a second but melted into your touch. He tasted like whiskey and cigarettes, you tasted like honey and tea.