#I may start drinking box wine

[lphaneuf]

This.

Dinner in summer.

[moonchild9350]

The Gift

summary: both you and Minho finish out the Christmas season with surprises for each other

pairing: noidol!Minho x fab!reader

genre: fluff, smut

word count: 2.1k

warnings: breeding kink, mention of pregnancy, unprotected sex (don’t), creampie, squirting, clit play

notes: I haven’t written for Minho in a while so here’s a little fic to make up for it. Reblog and comments are always appreciated! (Lightly edited)

divider by @strangergraphics

please do not copy, translate, use, modify, or repost this work without my permission. ©️moonchild9350 (2024)

It was a cold, winter night, a few days before Christmas. You and Minho were on your way to dinner, trying to squeeze your way through the crowds on the sidewalk, everyone rushing to get to their destinations. It was your third anniversary and Minho wanted to celebrate your love at the place where it all started, the restaurant you had your first date at.

You tugged your red dress down, the fabric hugging your body and showing your curves just right, however, it may not have been the best choice to wear in order to trek across town to the venue. Minho was a good sport however, slowing down to allow you to finish before flashing you a toothy smile and walking on.

Both of you made your reservation just in time, albeit a little out of breath from your long walk. You were seated in the dimly lit room, the table lit by candlelight and a mini Christmas tree to celebrate the season. Minho ordered you both glasses of wine to toast with, choosing the same one you both had on the first date.

Your night was filled with good food and drink as you both tapped about your day and your love for each other, cheeks becoming more rosier as the night went on. Minho seemed a little antsy, as he kept shifting in his seat, adjusting his sweater as if it was choking him.

You eyed your boyfriend curiously, as you took another sip of your wine.

“Are you ok baby?” You asked, titling your head as you waited for his response.

“What? Oh yeah!” Minho responded, chuckling as he did so.

You observed him a little longer, watching as his eyes never would meet yours. You chalked it up to maybe him eating too much and continued to finish your food. Once you were through you alerted Minho that you were going to the bathroom, chuckling as he jumped in his seat, his eyes widening as if you interrupted his thoughts. Weird.

Getting up, you walked away, leaving a nervous Minho at the table. You entered the bathroom, checking your reflection in the mirror. You were scared at his sudden change in behavior, not sure where it stemmed from. Your day had been going pretty well with Minho waking you up with breakfast in bed, cuddling together before he made love to you. But now, it’s almost as if he’s demeanor has changed, to something that isn’t befitting to celebrate a third year anniversary.

Looking into the mirror you swiped at your eyes, wiping the tear that had formed, careful to not smudge your makeup. You took a deep breath and smiled, determined to not let this ruin your evening. You walked out of the bathroom and back to Minho who was still sitting at the table, his hands crossed while his chin rested on them.

He gave you a gentle smile as you approached and sat down. You eyed him suspiciously as he had a look on his face, one that seemed as if he was up to something.

“Minho what…” you began before he placed a box in front of you.

You looked down and noticed it was a small, black box, the perfect size to hold a ring. But surely it’s not what you think it is. With shaky hands you picked up the velvet box and slowly opened the lid to notice a princess cut diamond with a rose gold band.

You stared at the ring, your mouth open in shock. Slowly your eyes met Minho’s as he stared at you with joy in his eyes.

Minho knew you were the one, the person he’d want to spend the rest of his life with. He wanted tonight to be special and knew you didn’t want all the fan fare that came with a proposal so he settled on slipping the box to you at some point tonight.

He’d been nervous, not sure how you would take it, and he thinks you noticed as you looked at him suspiciously all night long.

“Will you be mine forever?” Minho croaked, his voice cracking as he asked for your hand.

You chuckled and enthusiastically responded, “yes!”

Minho smiled as he helped you take the ring out and then delicately slid the ring on your finger. You admired the stone on your hand, the diamond sparkling in the restaurant lighting. It was perfect, just what you wanted.

“Ready?” Minho inquired, “I already paid.”

You nodded and stood up, slotting your hand in his as he led you out of the restaurant. Minho guided you through the crowds, squeezing your hand every now and then. He seemed to be in a hurry, his steps urgent as he pushed people at the way unceremoniously.

Minho seemed to be a totally different person now, back to his normal giddy self as he made jokes the whole way. The only time he seemed to calm down was when he encountered a stray cat in the alley. You looked down fondly as he spoke softly to the cat, petting its fur as it purred, wrapping itself around his legs.

Once satisfied, Minho stood up and grabbed your hand once more, just to pull you in the direction of your house. You made it in record time, as you both didn’t stop for anything else. Minho shoved the key into the lock, cursing as he missed the key hole. You watched with a smirk, as he struggled.

“Let me get it baby,” you said as you took the key from him and unlocked the door flawlessly, sticking your tongue out at him to tease him.

Minho let out a huff as he walked passed you, shucking his coat off in the process. You followed suit and kicked your shoes off. You followed Minho as he walked to your shared bedroom, the promise of a night in within the warm blankets ahead.

As you stepped over the threshold, Minho pulled you to him, your body crashing into his arms. You let out a yelp as his lips crashed onto yours for a passionate kiss. His hands wandered to your shoulders, pushing your dress down your arms, letting it pool at your feet, his lips never disconnecting from yours.

It was a flurry of movement as you fumbled with his pants, your fingers clumsily working to get them unbuttoned, grabbing his zipper and yanking it down before he kicked the fabric off. Minho pulled back, his chest heaving as he caught his breath. His eyes were dilated, full of lust as he stared at you.

Licking his lips he pointed at you and said, “bed now.” He paused for a brief moment before adding, “Mrs. Lee,” with a smirk.

Hearing him call you by his surname which would be yours soon caused heat to pool in your core, you slick leaking out to soak your panties. You quickly walked to the bed and laid down and spread your legs, baring your wet pussy to your fiancés eyes.

Minho focus was on your core and your soaked panties, the promise of your wet heat on his mind. He could see the outline of your lips, so puffy and slick just for him. He unbuttoned his shirt and rid of it as he walked over to you, standing in between your spread legs.

His cock was hard and leaking, the tip a cherry red. Grasping your thighs, he pressed down on them to keep them open as he slid his cock through your folds. You both moaned at the contact, only getting louder as pushed his cock in, your walls stretching to accommodate is thick length.

Minho began thrusting his hips, his eyes glued on his cock sliding in and out of your pussy, your slick coating his length. He loved how pliant you were for him as he shifted all of his weight on you, allowing his cock to go deeper hitting the spot that makes your toes curl and pussy quiver.

“You’re mine forever,” Minho moaned as he sped up, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing throughout the room.

“All yours baby,” you gasped as his cock rammed into your cervix causing a spark of pain followed by pleasure to spread throughout your core.

Minho bit his lips, as he reached up to fondle your breasts as they bounced up and down with each movement, fitting so perfectly in his hands. Since you were his, he could knock you up right? Put a baby in you so you could grow big and swollen with his child. He felt his cock twitch as your walls sucked him in, clenching down on him as little huffs left your lips.

“Mm close kitten,” Minho moaned, his orgasm rapidly approaching. “Gonna give you my cum and make you carry my baby.”

Your eyes widened at his words, shocked that he even said them. You’d be lying though if his words didn’t turn you on though, evident as more slick gushed out of your hole.

“Yes, give me your cum baby,” you whined, your eyes trained on your lover as he focused on fucking you good.

Minho smirked, his thumb going straight to your clit to rub quick circles on the bud. He moaned as you squealed, the added stimulation causing your orgasm to build steadily until you let go, coming all over his cock, your release squirting all over his length and bed below.

“Shit kitten, you made a mess,” Minho teased as he continued to thrust his hips until he came with a loud groan, his cum coating your walls.

Minho collapsed on top of you, pressing lazy kisses on your neck as you both came down from your highs. You could feel his release dripping from your pussy and trailing down your ass. With one last kiss Minho got up, the sudden withdrawal of his cock causing you to whimper from the loss.

Minho cleaned both of you up before pulling you into him under the covers, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

“Let me see the ring,” Minho said, his eyes wide as you held your hand up.

You both gazed at the stone, the significance of what it meant settling in. You were going to spend the rest of your life with this man and you couldn’t be any more excited.

The next morning, you got up early, needing to make an errand before Minho got up. You carefully snuck out of bed, careful not to russle the sheets too much and disturb your lover. You got dressed and left, making your way to your destination with excitement.

You had planned this for a while, wanting it to be a surprise, but after yesterday it felt almost like a gift, a thank you for what’s to come. You made haste and wasted no time, completing your errand quickly.

As you made it back home, you carefully snuck back in the house, just to find Minho in the kitchen making coffee.

“Ah you’re back kitten. Where’d you go?” He asked as he measured out the coffee grounds.

“Just had a little errand to run,” you said as you walked over to him.

Once he finished setting up the coffee pot, you scooted closer to him with a wide grin on your face.

“Close your eyes!” You gushed, chuckling as Minho did what you said, his eyebrows raised in curiosity.

You carefully reached into the box at your feet, grabbing and cradling the animal inside. Carefully, you placed the furry creature in Minhos hands, letting out a laugh as he jumped in shock.

“You can open your eyes now!” You sang, your phone out and pointed at him to capture his reaction.

Minho’s eyes widened and gasped, as he hugged the creature to his chest.

“A kitten!” Minho gushed, petting the little tabby’s head as it purred in his arms.

“Mmhmm, I wanted it to be a surprise. Our own little addition to the house. And the only child for a while,” you said as you teased him.

Minho laughed, his bunny teeth showing as he threw his head back. “I was caught up in the moment okay? Although you would look good carrying my child,” he said as he wiggled his eyebrows.

“One day baby, but not today,” you said as you tickled the kitten beneath his chin.

“Of course, of course…Mrs. Lee,” Minho teased as he snuggled the kitten to his face.

“I guess I have to get used to that huh,” you teased.

“You bet Mrs. Lee.”

Two surprises is better than one as your little family came together, perfectly as it should be.

taglist: @jehhskz @jeonginsleftcheek @simpforleeknaur @palindrome969 @armystay89 @slut4hee @ivydoesit23 @amarecerasus @kaysungshine @fun-fanfics @baby-stay92 @velvetmoonlght @possum-playground @katsukis1wife @my-neurodivergent-world @hanniebaeee

[milksnake-tea]

❀ ˎˊ- prompt: how they are in a vampire au ❀ ˎˊ- characters: blade, dan heng, dan feng, march 7th, himeko, jingliu, jing yuan, kafka, luocha, sampo, caelus, stelle, yaoshi ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: lots of mentions of blood and wounds, the typical vampire stuff, talks about scents, usage of the word "feeding", intended lowercase, mentions of alcohol in kafka's part, caelus/stelle may be ooc :| ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: NEVER REALLY ANNOUNCED IT BUT YAHOO HERE U GO !!! THE WINNER OF THE POLL WAS VAMPIRES, SO LETS GO ITS BITING TIME HEHE <3 different format bc damn thats a lot of characters i dont have banners for... also first time writing them women so scratches head sorry if it's ooc teehee i tried

vampire!blade, whose bloodlust runs deeper than most. his desires drive him to the brink of insanity at the slightest whiff of blood, the former human despising the animalistic tendencies that now governed his existence. with his enemies, he is content to lick their blood from his face, finding no remorse in the blood of the dead. but when he dares to drink from you, he is gentle - cautious. always his eyes are watching your own, especially before he sinks his teeth into the crook of your neck. for blade is prone to losing himself in the taste of you, and he fears he may go too far.

vampire!dan heng, who despises his species more than any hunter out there. he longs for the normality and companionship of humanity, and often hides his vampiric traits in public as to masquerade as a human. the only time he'll satiate his desire for blood is when he's on death's door; and even then he'll only settle for blood bags at the dead of night, away from any of the eyes of his fellow trailblazers. when the time comes and you offer your blood to him, dan heng is reluctant, hesitant. never in his life has he fed on another, and you can feel his inexperience in how he cautiously sinks his fangs into your skin - opting to kiss your wrist rather than your neck, just in case he lost control.

vampire!dan feng, who will outright refuse blood that he deems to be unsatisfactory to his palate. even if his dietary needs are considered monstrous by other species, that doesn't mean that he himself needs to be barbaric. dan feng treats blood as he would wine - like a delicacy, only to be partaken on occasion. but all of that is thrown out the window once he tastes you for the first time. when dan feng drinks your blood, he does it with the tenderness of a lover. always, he keeps you against a comfortable surface such as a bed or a sofa as his lips latch onto your neck, taking his time as he savors you like a fine dish.

vampire!march 7th, who never really questioned why she needed to drink blood to survive, and always deemed it as normal. although, she doesn't really consider it cute, claiming that it "ruins her cute-girl aesthetic". as such, she won't talk about it unless you start the conversation first, preferring to disguise her blood intake in the juice boxes she keeps around. even when she does drink from you, it's in small sips, a mere nip before she's off to doing something more fun. don't take it personally, march just isn't fond of drinking from another person. she appreciates you offering, though!

vampire!himeko, whose taste is questionable, even for a vampire. for a second, you thought that her horrendous taste in coffee came from her background, but no, it's just himeko being himeko. unlike her other companions, himeko isn't ashamed of her needs. if she needs blood, she beckons you from across the parlor car, taking your arm in her hand as she gently bites your wrist. there's something playful in the way she drinks - she's gentle, yet doesn't treat you as though you're made of glass, a soft giggle leaving her lips as she licks the wound on your wrist.

vampire!jingliu, who makes sure you understand just what you're getting into when you offer your blood. it's hard enough to keep both her mara and her bloodlust at bay around you, and even harder to control herself when you're so willing to help her. time and time again she warns you, saying that she may not be able to control herself once she gets a taste. but if you're strong and brave enough to feed her despite the dangers, then brace yourself, for jingliu won't stop until she's fully satiated.

vampire!jing yuan, who loves to nip at your fingers playfully, flashing his fangs whenever he can. honestly, jing yuan's the type of person to forget he's a vampire until the time comes and he needs to feed - and even then, it's more of an inconvenience to him than anything else. but that won't stop him from messing with you, after all, he loves the disgruntled face you make whenever he pretends to snap at you. however, when jing yuan does drink from you, he prefers to take it from the back, hugging you from behind as he languidly drinks from your shoulder - making sure the process is as painless as possible.

vampire!kafka, who teases you when you first find out of her species. are you afraid of her now? how cute, but really, there's no need to be afraid. she wouldn't hurt you, not intentionally, at least. kafka can't help but laugh as you playfully hit her for her words. can you blame her, though, when your reactions are just that endearing? kafka isn't one to take blood directly from the source, instead, she prefers to drink it in a wine glass, mixed with some sort of alcohol to really amp up the effects. having both wine and blood in one drink can be quite intoxicating to a vampire, but kafka wouldn't be kafka if she were afraid of the after effects.

vampire!luocha, who becomes addicted to your blood the second he tastes it. over his lifetime, luocha has tasted the blood of many, each with their own flavors - ranging from savory to sweet to downright disgusting. but with you, the drinking of blood is less so a matter of feeding, but rather an intimate act between lovers. he is tender as his lips latch onto your neck, his arms wrapped around you and hands massaging you to ease you through the process. and through it all, his eyes forever hold your gaze as he tastes heaven once again.

vampire!caelus, whose inexperience often makes him dangerous. caelus doesn't know how to deal with his urges, nor does he understand why a hunger builds up within him whenever he sees an exposed patch of your skin. he's a sweet guy, no doubt about it, it's just that he doesn't know how to stop. it's up to you to guide him and tell him when to stop, for caelus is young, and doesn't understand the durability of the human body compared to a vampire. but he's willing to learn, even if it means driving off his own needs in favor of yours. the last thing he wants to do is to hurt you, after all.

vampire!stelle, who nuzzles up to you whenever she feels the slightest thirst for blood. like caelus, stelle has no idea what she's feeling nor how to deal with it. when she starts getting hungry, she becomes clingy - she starts hanging around you more, often staring at you and leaving you to wonder just what it is she wants. it's only when she starts tugging at your sleeve that you realize that she's hungry. when stelle drinks, it's... well, it's not as unhinged as caelus, but she still lacks the control as he does, and you have to tap her head to snap her out of it. but when she's done drinking, you can't help but coo at her adorable face, like a kitten full of soup.

vampire!yaoshi, who prefers to give their blood rather than drink it. they would hate to put anyone in danger, after all. but alas, their instincts won't disappear, even after their ascension to aeonhood. ironic, isn't it? the giver and sustainer of eternal life is also the same one who drains that life. when they feed from you, they prefer to have you in their arms as they do, your back pressed against their chest as they drink. they whisper sweet nothings each time they rise from your skin, their tongue licking at your wound to soothe you. but it never hurts when it's with yaoshi - perhaps it's the dew from yaoshi's trees that numbs you, or the poison in their tail. if anything, you feel as though you are in a hazy dream, not yet asleep, yet not quite awake either.

[floralcyanide]

― ᴅᴇᴀʀ ᴊᴀᴠɪ

After realizing you've had enough of being single, you decide to branch out further into your romantic life on a whim. What you don't expect is to meet someone as a result. or ; In which you converse in letters and phone calls with Javi Rivera, an active-duty military man.

part two

↝ pairing: Javier "Javi" Rivera / Fem!Reader

↝ warnings: long distance, reader has anxiety, kinda slow burn?, kissing, mentions of death

↝ word count: 5.3k

↝ author's note: I enjoyed writing this so much. this is the first time I've written something this long in a while. I hope ya'll enjoy! there will definitely be a part two and it's gonna be spicy so be prepared. (;

masterlist ⋇ divider credit: @cafekitsune

this fic has been cross posted to ao3.

ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ʀᴇᴘʀᴏᴅᴜᴄᴇ, ᴏʀ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀs ᴏɴ ᴛᴜᴍʙʟʀ, ᴀᴏ3, ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ, ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴡ��ʙsɪᴛᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ɪɴ ᴀɪ ɢᴇɴᴇʀᴀᴛᴏʀs ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴀʀᴛɪғɪᴄɪᴀʟ ɪɴᴛᴇʟʟɪɢᴇɴᴄᴇ. ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴏᴛ ᴜsᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ᴛᴏ sᴇʟʟ ғᴏʀ ᴀs ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

Your dating life has reached a new low. Tinder, Bumble, Hinge- none of them work for you despite your incessant attempts. It’s so bad that your friends have set you up on blind dates, all of which fail or turn into what people like to call situationships. You end up wasting your time on someone thinking it’s going great, and then suddenly, it ends in a fiery crash or sometimes plain old rejection. You’re so tired of dating. Even your university campus has no luck in the dating pool. But then, one night (after drinking too much box wine and scrolling through dating apps begrudgingly), your best friend has an idea.

“Have you ever like, dated long distance?” they ask, swirling their wine around their glass.

“Not really,” you shrug, taking a sip from yours, “I feel like it’d be harder than dating someone close by, which is already a lot.”

“True,” they sigh, “Ooh! Maybe use one of those pen pal apps?” 

“Pen pal apps?” you raise an eyebrow, locking your phone before tossing it on the couch in disgust, “What am I, nine years old?”

Your best friend rolls their eyes, “It’s not something just kids do, you know. A lot of people make genuine connections through letters. It’s a lot better than Tinder or some shitty dating app at this point. You may as well try.”

“I guess you’re right,” you glance down at your phone, “I’m running out of options here.”

After Googling and scrolling through search results, you hum, “Maybe I could do one of the military pen pal programs. That seems promising.”

“Yes! Get you a military man!” your best friend squeals, and you can’t help the giddy smile that grows on your lips.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” you say, and your best friend shakes your shoulder excitedly, “But if it doesn’t work out, I’m just going to die alone, I guess. At this point, it’s less stressful.”

Your best friend snorts, “If we make it to thirty and we’re both still single, we could get married.”

“I love you, but if I had to spend the rest of my life with you, I’d probably go insane.”

“You have some killer jokes, kid. You’re already stuck with me, so sorry.”

That following day, you do a deep dive into all things pen-palling. You decide to sit down at your desk and type up a letter, but it feels too wrong like it needs to be handwritten instead. So, you move your laptop aside, pull out some notebook paper and a pencil, and start your first letter. Except, you aren’t sure what to say first. Then, when you start writing, your handwriting annoys you, and after that, you think your tone is off. You end up scrapping half a tree by the time you start actually writing a decent letter. You introduce yourself and state where you’re from, explaining you’re in college and what you wish to do after graduating. You don’t dive into too much detail but give enough away so your possible pen pal has something to respond to. You also sprinkle in some questions for them to answer as well. You reread your letter, finally satisfied with what you’ve written, before folding it and sliding it into an envelope. You go back to your phone to see where to send the letter, writing down the location along with your name and address on the front.

Life goes on for a little while, and you actually forget you sent a letter to some random person in the military until one day, your best friend is sifting through the mail you tossed onto your counter.

“Uhh, what’s this?” they call out from the kitchen as you surf through Netflix in the living room.

“What’s what?”

“You got a letter from some dude named Javier?” your best friend says it as more of a question than a statement.

You scrunch up your nose and eyebrows in confusion before finally settling on a show you and your best friend have seen a million times already, walking into the kitchen.

“Let me see.”

Your best friend hands over the letter, and you scan the envelope carefully. Javier Rivera. It doesn’t sound familiar to you, but then you notice where the letter is from.

“Oh shit,” you flip the envelope over and tear it open.

“What is it?”

“It’s the pen pal thing!” you say, voice raised in shock, “I didn’t think someone would actually respond.”

“Oh yeah,” your best friend nods, “I forgot about that. I figured you chickened out on it because you never mentioned it again.”

“I didn’t chicken out,” you trail off, taking in the meticulous handwriting of the letter.

Dearest Pen Pal,

Thank you for sending your letter. I don’t think you’ll ever understand how much it meant to me to receive it. I’m Javier, but everyone calls me Javi. I’m the same age as you and have been to college myself. I joined the military for personal reasons, but I haven’t regretted it yet. Your career path seems interesting, and I hope you succeed in the rest of your studies. 

Your best friend hovers over your shoulder, also reading the letter.

“He seems cute,” your best friend giggles.

Javi answers some of your random questions and goes on to say he anticipates your next letter. He also says that if you’d like, he’d send a photo of himself next time. Your best friend has a field day with that.

“Oh my gosh! What if he’s hot?” they gasp.

“Who knows? I wouldn’t care if he wasn’t, anyway. It’s cool to talk to someone I’ve never met over letters.”

“True. But bonus points if he is hot.”

You scoff as you fold the letter up and put it back in the envelope.

When your best friend leaves later on, you immediately bolt to your desk and write your letter. 

Dear Javi,

I’m glad my letter found you well. Thanks for the hope in me, I definitely need it. College is fun, but it’s super exhausting. I don’t think I asked in my last letter, but where are you from? Also, what did you major in while in school? I’d love to see what you look like and put a face to your name. What military branch are you in, and what do you want to do with your experience when you’re back in the States? Sorry for all the questions again! I’m just super curious about things. If this letter reaches you sooner than later this time around, I hope you have a great Thanksgiving.

You wrap up your letter, albeit a little shorter than the last one, and slip it into your mailbox ASAP. This time, you won’t forget you sent it.

When the following letter arrives, it’s early December. You hastily remove your scarf, coat, and wet snow boots at your front door before opening the letter immediately. When you pull the letter from the envelope, a photo falls onto the floor. You pick it up, and it’s a small picture of who you assume is Javi, all decked out in his military uniform. Okay, your best friend was right on the money, he is pretty cute.

Dearest Pen Pal,

I had a decent Thanksgiving. I hope yours was better than mine! I’m from Miami, Florida. I went to school in Muskogee, Oklahoma, and while I was there, I studied weather phenomena and chased storms. It was a whole thing, but I’ll get into that later. And I don’t mind all the questions. I think it’ll be fun getting to know each other. 

Javi explains what branch he’s in and also admits he doesn’t know what he’s going to do after the military as of yet. He talks about his Thanksgiving and wishes you a Merry Christmas if he doesn’t get to communicate with you before then. You decide to send a photo of yourself back to him, digging out your Polaroid camera when you go to your bedroom to respond to his letter. You touch up your makeup a little and make sure your hair isn’t absolutely a mess before taking a photo. Sitting down to write your letter, you aren’t sure how to react to the photo Javi sent. You don’t want to be weird, but you also want him to know that you think he’s attractive. 

Dear Javi,

I love the photo you sent, and you look pretty dapper in your uniform. I’m sending a picture of myself, too. Chasing storms sounds very interesting. Please tell me more about that! 

You rattle off some things you have done while in school, talking about the places you have traveled to over the years and the people you’ve met. You gush about your best friend, especially. 

So far, you’re probably the most intriguing person I’ve talked to, Javi. Not everyone can say they’re a storm chaser, you add. 

You polish off your letter, which ends up being two pages long (three if you count the back on the first page, too.) You neatly fold up the paper and slide it into an envelope. You don’t expect a reply until New Year because of the amount of mail that will be coming in and out of the base. Javi is stationed on the other side of the country from you and may be moved out of the country if needed. 

As you expected, it isn’t until a month and a half later that you receive a letter from Javi again. It’s a long letter- a few pages total this time. The letter is in a Christmas card, and it’s signed by Javi. You immediately hang the card on your refrigerator door so you can look at it daily. He talks about how his holidays went, how all the guys on his base called home or were able to FaceTime their family. Javi asks how your holidays have gone and showers you with compliments over the photo you sent him. You can’t help but feel your stomach flutter at his words. 

Over the next few months, you and Javi write back and forth diligently. You know just about everything about Javi, and he knows almost everything about you. You feel like there’s something he’s keeping from you, possibly the storm chasing he had brought up, but you don’t push it. He will tell you when he’s ready. And there’s also some stuff about your life you’d rather wait to explain as well. In your last letter, you wrote your email and phone number so that Javi can communicate with you in other ways. You’re able to guess how long it takes the letters to get to Javi, so around the time you expect them to get to him, you’re giddy. You anxiously await a phone call or email any day now.

It’s August when your phone rings with a call from an unknown number. You have had such a long day- school for several hours, then work immediately after in the evening. You can’t help but wonder who could be calling at 9 pm. You make yourself comfy on the couch with your favorite beverage before answering the phone.

“Hello?” 

“Hi, it’s Javi. Is this the right number?”

You nearly choke on your sip of drink, “Oh shit. Hi! Yes, this is the right number!”

Javi laughs from the other end, and you decide you want to hear that laugh again so badly. 

“Sorry I’m calling so late over there. The phone was surprisingly available, and I got your letter today saying I could call. So I did,” Javi said.

“It’s okay,” you shrug, even though he can’t see, “I just got home from work, actually. So perfect timing.”

“Great. How was your day?”

The two of you spend about an hour on the phone, relishing having an actual conversation in real time.

“I’m so glad to finally hear your voice,” Javi says after a natural pause in conversation, “That’s not too cheesy, right?”

You snort, “It kind of is, but it’s cute. I’m glad to hear your voice, too.”

After another ten minutes, Javi sadly admits that he has to hang up since it’s almost dinner time where he is. 

“We should talk again sometime if you’re able to,” you smile, biting at your fingernail nervously.

You hope he calls again, but letters will always suffice just fine.

“I’ll try my best. Maybe sometime next week?”

“Sounds like a plan,” you say, pulling the phone away from your ear so you can silently kick your feet in excitement.

“Alright, then. Talk to you later,” Javi says.

“See ya,” you grin, and the call concludes.

It isn’t the following week that he calls, but the week after that. Javi discloses that he sent a surprise in the letter he just mailed. He also slips up and says it’s almost his birthday, and you immediately have an idea. After your long conversation on the phone, asking some questions here and there about certain things he likes that you didn’t already know before, you decide to send Javi a package.

You send a postcard from your home state, some non-perishable snacks, socks that were his favorite color that he could wear when not on base, notebooks he could write letters in, some fun pens to go with the notebooks, and a birthday card. After signing it, you leave a lip print on the card just to test the waters. You’ve come to really like Javi over the last year, and you wonder if he likes you back. Sometimes, he’ll be flirty in letters or over the phone, but nothing too crazy. Nothing that gives you alarm bells that he likes you in the way that you like him. So, you’re taking a leap of faith. 

A few weeks after sending the package, you get Javi's phone call while doing some class work at your desk. You spin around in the chair aimlessly as you answer the phone.

“A kiss, huh? That’s cute.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. Just a little something to remind you of me,” you say.

“It’s definitely not nothing,” Javi teases, “I think you want to kiss me.”

 Your ears grow hot at the sound of Javi’s voice deepening in playfulness.

“And so what if I do? There’s nothing you can do about it,” you bite back with just as much playfulness.

“Are you sure about that?” Javi says, a knowing lilt in his voice.

“What do you mean?” you furrow your eyebrows, stopping the chair from spinning entirely so you can focus.

“I’m most likely coming home for Christmas this year, but I still have to work out some stuff,” Javi says, an edge of excitement in his voice, “I’d like to possibly see you.”

“Oh,” you say, your voice squeaking, “Really? You want to see me?”

“Of course I wanna see you,” Javi chuckles, “We’ve been corresponding for a while. I’d like to finally see you in person.”

You suddenly feel like you’re going to throw up, but in a good way. You’re sick with nervous excitement. 

“O-okay,” you grin, “I’ll be finished with the semester at the beginning of December. Depending on when and where you want to meet, I can ask off from work.”

Javi has family not too far from where you live, and he wants to stop and see, so the two of you agree to meet in a city that’s basically halfway. December 20th is the day you’re supposed to meet Javi after a year of conversing through letters and over the phone. Who would have thought, right? That some random idea from your best friend would have led you here? Speaking of which, your best friend is beside themselves with excitement just like you. You called them immediately after hanging up with Javi.

“When you get married, make sure to thank me!” they say half-jokingly.

“Shut up,” you roll your eyes, trying to stifle a grin, “What if we don’t like each other when we meet, though? What if it’s awkward? What if we don’t have anything to talk about? What if-”

“Hush!” your best friend shushes you, “It will go fine. It will go great. In fact, you’re going to have a splendid time.”

“I guess you’re right,” you sigh, eyeballing the photo of Javi you have pinned to your corkboard over your desk.

“I’m always right,” your best friend giggles.

It’s now the end of your semester, and you’re beyond excited for a few reasons. In a week, you meet Javi, and this coming Spring semester is your last. So, for the time being, you’ll be finished with college. You come home from your final exam and start making a packing list. You’re staying at a hotel in the city where you’re meeting Javi for a day or two, depending on how things go. You have so much to do before going on the mini trip that if you didn’t have a list planned out for everything, your head would surely fly off your shoulders. You have to wrap gifts for your friends and family, pack your bag, clean your apartment, and put up decorations for the party you and your best friend are throwing for Christmas. 

Deciding to surprise Javi, you get him a gift for Christmas. It’s a wool sweater you think will fit nicely and a beautiful, deep color that you figure will compliment his skin tone. You carefully put the sweater in a robe box, taping the sides shut and signing your name on the tag before putting it under the Christmas tree. You managed to put up the large tree by your lonesome and didn’t kill yourself doing it, so you considered it a win. After wrapping a few more gifts and stuffing them under your tree, you check the time. It’s a little past dinnertime, and you decide it’s probably best to finally pack your bag for tomorrow. 

A melatonin gummy is definitely in your future so you can get some sleep, or else you’ll toss and turn in an anxious fit all night. After finishing up packing as lightly as you can muster, you settle into bed. When you wake in the morning, you get a text from an unknown number, which you assume is from Javi’s cell, letting you know he is getting on his flight. You almost quite literally jump out of bed before hitting the shower and getting ready. You take your time fixing your hair and makeup, picking out a cute but comfortable outfit for your 2-hour drive. 

After getting your belongings and the gift inside your car, you shoot your best friend a text letting them know you’re leaving your apartment and that you’ll text when you get to the airport. Taking a few deep breaths, you crank your car and head off. You are deep in your thoughts the entire ride, not evening singing along to your music most of the time. What if Javi decides he isn’t impressed by what he sees? You try to push away your anxiety as you near the airport. Finding parking after circling around for a while, you hurry to grab the gift and go inside. It’s hectic, considering it’s five days until Christmas, but you get through TSA without a hitch. You find the coffee shop where you and Javi agreed to meet and sit at a table in the corner. You scroll through social media, trying not to panic. You text back and forth with your best friend for a while until you receive a message from Javi saying he’s landed. Suddenly, an icy, numbing nervousness runs through your veins. You take a deep breath and tell yourself it will be okay, and everything will be fine. 

You decide to meet Javi at his gate and return to the coffee shop. Getting up from your seat, you shake yourself off a little before walking to the gate where Javi is to exit his flight. You aimlessly check your phone every five minutes out of anxiety. People start to leave from the corridor, dragging their carry-ons with them. Suddenly, you spot Javi walking out with the crowd, his face turned downward at his phone. When he looks up, he has to do a double-take when he sees you. You can’t help the grin that plasters your face.

“Hi,” Javi grins back as he approaches you, taking in your appearance fully for the first time, “Is it okay if I hug you?”

“You don't have to ask, silly,” you roll your eyes playfully, setting the gift by your feet before allowing Javi to pull you into him.

You wrap your arms around him, your nose buried in his shoulder. He’s dressed in his uniform, much to your delight, meaning you get to see how handsome he looks in person. 

“Don’t tell me that’s for me,” Javi gives you a jokingly dissatisfied look when he pulls away from you, his eyes darting to the gift beside you. 

“Would you kill me if it was?” you say, picking it up and handing it to him.

“Nah,” Javi waves you off, leaning down to dig in his carry-on for something, “Besides, I got you something, too.”

“Javi,” you drag out his name in annoyance, “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did. It’s Christmas,” Javi smiles, secretly enjoying how you say his name in person.

You both go to baggage claim and the coffee shop before opening your gifts. You and Javi match each others’ stride, your hands accidentally brushing against one another a few times. Finally, Javi decides to throw caution to the wind and grabs your hand, sliding his fingers between yours. You glance down before smiling at him, trying to hide how giddy you are from the simple gesture. When you arrive at the coffee shop, you sit in the same corner you were previously in and settle in your seats.

“So,” Javi slides his gift over to you, pulling his toward him, “What’d you get me?”

“Why don’t you open it and see?” you lean over the table in wait, your smile from earlier still not quite leaving your lips.

“That I will do,” Javi says, carefully opening his gift.

“This is a lovely color,” he pulls the sweater out and fully takes it in, “Very soft. You did a great job because I love sweaters.”

“I’m glad you love it,” you sink into your seat with relief.

“Now, open yours,” Javi pushes your gift in your direction with a single finger. 

“Is it going to explode in my face?” you joke as you pull the wrapping off.

“I swear it won’t,” Javi laughs.

You open the box to reveal a beautiful necklace with your birthstone dangling from the chain. 

“This looks expensive, Javi. Please tell me you didn’t spend an arm and a leg on this,” you gasp.

“No promises,” Javi shrugs, getting up from his seat and walking behind you, holding out a hand for the necklace, “May I?”

You gently place the jewelry into his palm, lifting your hair so Javi can put the necklace around your neck. His fingers brush your skin lightly as he clasps the chain successfully, “There we go.”

Javi sits and admires how the necklace falls onto your collarbone with a glimmer in his eyes, “Looks beautiful on you.”

You’re nearly this close to being on the floor, curled into an inconsolable ball. Instead of doing that, you cover your face in embarrassment. 

“Gosh, thank you for the gift, Javi,” you move your hands from your face, “I wasn’t expecting something so stunning. I would’ve gotten you something slightly better if I had known.”

“You can’t sit here and tell me this wool sweater wasn’t pricey enough. It’s okay, you know. Besides, I like giving gifts I know someone will love; the price doesn’t matter.”

You sigh, shaking your head with a smile and resting your chin on your fist, “Whatever you say, Javi.”

Javi mimics your position but reaches his other hand out to wrap it around your wrist gently, “I love it when you say my name.”

You stare at each other momentarily, just taking each other in. It had been a year of wondering what Javi was like in person- how tall he was, how he smelled, how he carried himself. You realize he has a million freckles on his face that you never noticed in the photos he sent. Javi brushes his thumb over your pulse point, and you’re close to losing your composure. You’re both so wrapped up in drinking each other in that you nearly jump out of your skin when the barista calls someone’s name for their order.

You compose yourself, but Javi lightly chuckles at your facial expression.

“I’m super awkward sometimes, but you know that already,” you try to joke about the situation instead of dying of shyness. 

“It’s okay, I think it’s cute.”

“You’re going to make me turn into a puddle if you don’t stop,” you cover your face again, the tips of your ears burning.

Javi just laughs again. You realize his laugh is better in person than over the phone.

Over your order of coffee and iced tea, you and Javi decide to have a proper dinner later on in the day. Both of you are pretty tired and would appreciate refreshing yourselves at your respective hotels first. You hold hands again while exiting the airport and offer Javi a ride to where he’s staying.

“It’s just a walk down the block. I’ll be fine.”

“But it’s cold,” you frown.

“I’ll live, I promise.” Javi pulls your head to his chest before planting a kiss on the top of it.

Your body grows warm at the endearing gesture, “See you later?’

“See you later,” Javi smiles before making his way out of the parking garage.

You immediately call your best friend when you get in the car and discuss how the initial meeting went while on your way to the hotel.

“Did you kiss?!” they squeal.

“Not yet,” you say, “I don’t expect anything to happen today. We held hands, though.”

“Spicy!” your best friend says, “Next thing you know, you’ll be having kids.”

“Will you ever be quiet?” you jokingly ask your best friend.

You take a well-needed nap after checking into the hotel, setting an alarm for an hour from the time you laid down. When you wake up, you notice it’s snowing outside. The place Javi wants to take you is a few blocks away from his and your hotels, and you figure you’ll enjoy the snow during your walk.

You fix your makeup a little and add some final touches here and there to your face and hair before deciding on one of the skirts you brought. A thick sweater and some tights are thrown with it, and you’re ready to go. Javi shoots you a message asking if you’re ready, and you respond quickly before leaving the hotel. The evening is pleasant, with the snow falling softly for the entire duration of your walk. When you arrive at the restaurant, Javi is waiting for you at the door, as handsome as ever in some black slacks, a dress shirt, and a heavy petticoat draped over his shoulders. He wraps an arm around you as you both enter the restaurant, where you’re immediately whisked away to a table with a nice view. Wine is ordered, and you take a moment to drink Javi in as he sits across from you. You nearly have to pinch yourself to believe this is real and actually happening.

“So,” you lean forward, hand tucked under your chin, “You never told me about your endeavors while in college. I’ve been dying to know about that storm chasing you brought up but never knew when to ask.”

Javi smiles, “Yes, it was a very wild time in my life. I don’t talk about it often. What did you want to know?”

“Why did you do it? Just curious.”

“Well, Javi clears his throat, “It was actually my best friend Kate’s idea. She had this big project that required extensive information about storms and tornadoes in particular.”

“Gotcha,” you lean back in your chair, “Ever see any scary storms?”

“We saw a few, but the scariest one was a five on the Fujita scale. It didn’t end very well for us,” Javi casts his eyes down.

“You don’t have to keep talking about it if you don’t want to,” you reach out your hand to put on top of Javi’s, sensing the topic is touchy.

“No, it’s something you need to know about me. So I’ll tell you,” he explains, “It was me, Kate, and three of our other friends, Addy, Praveen, and Jeb, working on the project together. We didn’t anticipate the tornado to be as strong as it got, and everyone but Kate and I ended up dying as a result of being caught in the storm.”

“I’m so sorry, Javi. That sounds scary and awful. I’m glad you made it through that,” you frown, and Javi meets your eyes for a moment.

“Sometimes I wonder why I’m one of the ones who survived. It bothered me a lot, so much that I decided to drop out of college and go into the military. I needed some stability in my life after that.”

“I understand,” you say, “We can talk about something else if you’d like. I know this is probably hard for you to think about.”

The rest of the evening is spent laughing over stories of Javi and his late friends and the ones he’s made in the military. You tell him wild stories of you and your best friend, some of which he couldn’t believe. After a few too many glasses of wine, the two of you decide to call it a night. 

“I had a wonderful time,” you say as Javi hooks your arm with his, and the two of you leave the restaurant.

It’s still snowing lightly, and the temperature has dropped significantly. You pull your coat closer to your chest. Javi notices and opts to wrap his arm around you, pulling you into his side to warm you. 

“I had a great time, too,” Javi grins. 

He walks you to your hotel, and you thank him for dinner. 

“Heading out in the morning?” you ask as the two of you stand outside the hotel entrance.

“Yes,” Javi says, his hands shoved into his coat pockets, “I’m seeing my aunt and uncle and then heading to Miami for my parents and sister.”

“That’s good,” you nod, “I am having a Christmas party with some friends and family in a  few days, and I’m looking forward to it.”

“Sounds fun,” Javi says, and you notice the two of you don’t really want to depart quite yet, but you must.

“You should probably get back. It’s getting cold and late,” you nudge Javi’s arm with yours.

“Yeah, I should,” he trails off, his eyes not leaving yours.

For a moment, you stare into Javi’s eyes, taking in their color and the length of his eyelashes. Before you realize it, you’re both leaning in. Javi slides his hand up your neck to cup your face, his skin warm despite the freezing air. He guides your face to his, his eyes fluttering shut as he gently presses his lips to yours. Your eyes close, too, and you allow Javi to take control of the kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. When it’s time for air, you both pull away.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Javi whispers, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile.

“Same here,” you say, playing with the curls at the nape of Javi’s neck.

“I should get going,” Javi frowns, “But I will definitely keep in touch the best I can over the next few days.”

“Okay,” you say, “Enjoy your Christmas.”

Javi begins to walk away, and you turn to go inside your hotel. But then Javi pauses, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk.

“Wait, what are you doing New Year's Eve?” he asks, and you can’t help the grin that sneaks up on your face.

“Depends. What are you doing?”

“Anything with you.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Try, Try, Try 1

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics including adultery and trying to conceive. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: husband!Andy Barber, friend!Thor

masterlist - to be added

Summary: your husband puts high expectations on you but you don't think you'll ever be enough for him.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A single line. Negative. You cringe as you hold the plastic stick over the bin in disappointment. There’s a knock at the door. 

“Well,” Andy’s voice rumbles through. 

You drop the test into the garbage and exhale softly, “not this time.” 

You crank on the faucet and rinse off your hands. The door opens from the other side and Andy meets your eye in the mirror. You can see the same disappointment in him. He even looks angry. 

“You been taking your vitamins?” He asks. 

“Yeah,” you nod to the pillow box, each day a separate compartment, filled with the multicolor tablets. “I’m off coffee finally. No drinking. I gave Lisa a bunch of wine.” 

Your husband sighs, “you were ovulating. You said so.” 

“Andy,” you shrug. “It just takes time.” 

“Three years,” he says. “Yeah, a long time.” 

You wince at his disapproval. You shut off the tap and dry your hands. “I know. I’m trying.” 

“We’re both trying,” he insists. “Even on the days I’m tired, from working, when all I wanna do is nothing, I try. All according to your calendar. Are you sure you’re doing it right?” 

“What?” You face him. “Yeah, it’s an app and the tests--” 

“I don’t know. Maybe you aren’t trying as hard as me. Or maybe you’re hiding something.” 

His accusation is like a slap in the face. You blink furiously and shake your head, “what are you saying?” 

“You went to the OBGYN last week. How do I know you didn’t get pills? Or an insert?” 

“Huh?” You grimace. You got your IUD out the month before the wedding; because he asked. It wasn’t fun or easy. “Why--” 

“Cold feet? I mean, you leave dishes in the sink, maybe you’re not ready for a kid.” 

Your lashes flutter as your eyes burn. You leave a glass or two in the sink but the place isn’t a sty. You heave and swallow down the hurt. He’s frustrated. That’s it. 

“I’m ready. I’ve been just as ready as you,” you croak. 

“Hm, well, maybe you should book another appointment. Get a referral and figure out what’s wrong with you.” 

“What’s wrong--” 

“There are options. In vitro. Surrogate,” he crosses his arms and leans on the door frame, “I’m not getting any younger. Neither are you.” 

You want to say that it could be him. That you’re not necessarily the problem but you can’t be entirely sure of that. You sniffle, “Andy, I want it just as bad. I understand that it’s hard but you don’t have to be mean.” 

“Cecilia and Mark started trying last year and she’s about to pop,” he retorts. “And Timothy, he’s older than I am and he’s got twins.” 

“Andy,” you plead. “You’re acting like this is some conspiracy.” 

He looks away as if to suggest that’s possible. You stagger with hurt. His mom always accused you of being a gold digger. Does he believe you? He’s the one who told you to quit your job and stay home. 

He clears his throat and his eyes flick over sharply, “almost forgot. Found a cooking course for you. Down at the Elmwood.” 

“A cooking... what?” 

“Mom suggested it. Said it could help with everything. Make it more manageable if you know what you’re doing.” He drops his hands to his hips. 

“But... you like my cooking.” 

“Honey, you cook out of cans and the freezer. It’s something but if we’re going to have a little one, you need to start making more organic meals. Processed foods are awful, especially if you’re going to be breastfeeding,” he girds. 

Your heart sinks even further. You just can’t do anything right. Not since he put that ring on your finger. You’ve let him down in so many ways. You can’t give him a baby, you can’t cook what he likes, and last night he said you were too dry. Not your fault when he doesn’t offer any foreplay. 

“It will be fun too,” he offers. “I’m sure you’ll make some friends. Maybe some who can give you good advice... moms.” 

You restrain the flinch and nod. “Sure, probably will be. I guess... learning new things is good.” 

“Sure it will be, honey,” he shoves away from the wall and comes closer. “Look, it’s not that bad, alright?” He brushes his hand over your hip and along your lower back. He turns you to face him, “we can try again. Before work?” 

He pulls you against him and you have to resist tearing away. You’re not mad. You’re hurt. Why can’t he ever tell you what you do right? 

“Sure,” you run your hands up his white tee shirt. 

“Mm, when’s the last time we were spontaneous?” He purrs as his attitude shifts entirely. “Come on, get on the counter. Just like old times.” 

Your cheeks sear at the memory. When you were his law clerk, it was so exciting. Your little rendezvous, the under the desk fun. Now it’s so much pressure. Now he really feels like your boss. 

He backs you up and you brace the counter. He helps you up and pushes between your knees. You gasp as he steps between them and pulls down the straps of your nightie. A shiver speckles goosebumps across your chest as he bends to bury his face. 

You clasp the back of his head as he fondles one tit in his hand and latches onto the other. He groans as he teethes at you and sucks as he pulls back, stretching your nipple until it pops free. He looks up at you and purrs. 

“You know, when you’re expecting, those are gonna be bigger,” he stands and you hide your disappointment. No foreplay. Again. “I can’t wait.” 

He spreads your knees and pulls you so your pelvis is curled. He pushes down the elastic of his boxers as he slides you closer to the edge. He grabs your shoulder, pushing you back against the mirror as he guides himself along your cunt. 

He growls as he pushes inside of you, rocking until he finds his way in. He grunts and snaps his hips as you whine. It scrapes dryly as you’re unprepared for his suddenness. You brace his forearm and grit down on the pain. 

“You’re dry again,” he snarls and thrusts. 

You rasp, “sorry, I’m trying.” 

You reach down to your clit and he swats your hand away. He snags your wrists and brings them above your head. He pins them to the mirror and rams in harder. You whimper and curl your legs around him. 

“Ah, Andy--” 

“Yeah, you like it, don’t you? Like how big I am?” He pounds into you without patient. “Want me to fill you up, don’t you?” 

You gulp and gasp around his raw intrusion. He squeezes your wrists until your fingers throb and you notice how he watches himself in the mirror, almost entirely unconcerned with your presence. You turn your head down and bite your lip as he uses you. You just need him to get off and then you can go cook him a breakfast he won’t he even like. 

[thethirdromana]

Mem., get recipe for Mina: a food guide to Dracula Daily

Inspired by There and Snack Again (in which you eat along with the LOTR movies), this is your guide to eating and drinking along with Dracula Daily.

All under a cut because there's no way I can do this without extensive spoilers. I strongly recommend not reading this unless you already know what happens in Dracula. Also only if you're comfortable reading about alcoholic drinks - there's a lot of booze in this novel.

Let's eat!

2 May We start with the famous paprika hendl. Google "chicken paprikash" and choose whichever recipe most strikes your fancy.

3 May For breakfast, choose from mamaliga (cornmeal porridge, similar to grits), "impletata" (vânătă umplută - stuffed aubergine) or anything with more paprika in it.

4 May For dinner, Jonathan has robber steak: "bits of bacon, onion, and beef, seasoned with red pepper, and strung on sticks and roasted over the fire".

5 May Slivovitz, if you'd like it (Jonathan declines). Then, for dinner, Dracula serves up roast chicken, with some cheese, a salad and a glass or two of Tokaji wine.

6 May "A cold breakfast" for Jonathan. In Romania a cold breakfast might include boiled eggs, telemea (sheep's cheese), franzela (bread) with assorted spreads, sliced cucumber and tomatoes, and sunculita taraneasca (sliced smoked pork). Jonathan also has "an excellent supper", but doesn't tell us what that includes.

16 May Would it be too bleak if I suggested eating a symbolic Jelly Baby?

26 May A glass of wine as Quincey and Jack congratulate Arthur and drown their sorrows.

18 June There's a kind of Scottish fruit slice called "flies' graveyard". That might make a suitable snack given Renfield's meal today.

24 June I guess a gingerbread woman, for the wolves? IDK, it turns out doing this for a horror novel is a bit grim.

8 July Thankfully the internet has hundreds of ideas for spider-themed cakes so you can eat along with Renfield.

18 July The voyage of the Demeter begins! Celebrate by eating like a sailor: have some salt pork, or make ship's biscuit.

20 July Renfield has just eaten several sparrows. Provide redress by feeding birds near you, bird flu guidance permitting.

24 July Imitate the "feet-folk" from York and Leeds by drinking some tea or eating some cured herring.

10 August Lucy and Mina enjoy a "severe tea". There are lots of severe teas in Victorian literature, but few writers actually describe what's in it - e.g. the Churchman's shilling magazine, 1868, has a story with a severe tea "which implies coffee, tea, and muffins, with substantials". What are substantials? I have no idea, but that's what you should eat today.

11 August Dracula has a little nibble on Lucy. I don't suggest doing this for every vampire bite in the novel, but given this one is particularly significant, how about marking the occasion with some black pudding?

30 August No food details for a while, but in this entry, Lucy notes that she "has an appetite like a cormorant" and "Arthur says I am getting fat". Celebrate with some cake.

3 September Van Helsing has been! And surely he wouldn't have come all the way from the Netherlands empty-handed? Acknowledge his visit with some gouda or a stroopwafel.

4 September Eat some sugar, which Renfield has requested for his flies.

7 September To stay in line with what the characters actually eat and drink, have a glass of port (though ideally not if you've just given blood). But for the real spirit of the day, consider a corn-on-the-cob.

9 September Free space! Jack has "an excellent meal" but doesn't say what it is. Dig into your favourite dinner.

10 September A sip of brandy, with which Van Helsing wets Lucy's lips.

11 September The garlic flowers arrive. There's lots that you can make with wild garlic - personally, I like it in risotto.

17 September A boxful of garlic flowers arrive for Lucy every day. Time to make chicken with 40 cloves of garlic. Other options for today include more black pudding (in honour of Renfield lapping up Jack's blood) or sherry.

18 September The Zookeeper enjoys a teacake, and so shall we.

20 September No food, but the labourers have "a stiff glass of grog". This is rum diluted with water, but you could also add lemon or lime juice, sugar, and/or cinnamon.

25 September Nibble another Jelly Baby for the Bloofer Lady.

29 September A lot happens in this entry, but there's not a lot of food. There are thirsty labourers, however. Maybe have a beer?

30 September Mina makes everyone a pot of tea. Also, we don't know what they have for dinner, but they eat it at 7pm, if you'd like to time your evening meal accordingly.

1 October More tea! Since this is being gulped down by a working man, make it builder's style - strong, sweet, lots of milk.

2 October Jonathan visits the Aërated Bread Company. He only has a cup of tea, but you could have whatever you like best from their menu:

(source)

3 October Dracula forces Mina to drink his blood like "a child forcing a kitten's nose into a saucer of milk". You could either have some more black pudding, or drink a glass of milk in solidarity with Mina.

15 October The Crew of Light aren't focusing much on meals any more, but they have travelled on the Orient Express. Here's the 1887 dining car menu.

(source - I can't vouch for the accuracy of a random person on Twitter but it looks plausible)

29 October No one is thinking of food in this bit of the novel (though Mina makes yet more tea), but as they're heading to Romania, have some sarmale. These stuffed cabbage rolls are the Romanian national dish.

31 October Mina and Van Helsing have "a huge basket of provisions". Have a picnic in their honour, if it's warm enough where you are.

1 November Mina and Van Helsing have "hot soup" into which the local cooks have put an extra amount of garlic. Consider having a truly extra amount of garlic with this 44-garlic-clove soup.

7 November The Crew of Light return to Transylvania. No details of food, but in honour of their journey, I would suggest a final round of chicken paprikash, to bring us back to where it all began.

[sinnabum45]

Wright family 💕

[Image description: gray tone digital comic of Ace Attorney characters, Phoenix Wright and Trucy Wright. Page one: Trucy is 8 years old and she peaks into the kitchen to see Phonix slumped over the table with alcohol around him. He is crying and she watches from behind the wall. She moves away and starts crying, too. Text: “Daddy… Daddy is sad again…” Page two: Trucy looks up and clenches her fist with a determined look on her face. Text: “ I have to help Daddy become happy again! I will help daddy, then he won’t leave me!” She silently cheers with her arms up. Time passes and Trucy is fourteen. She is holding a wine bottle that Phoenix had hidden. Page three: Trucy looks at the bottle with sadness while Phoenix looks away feeling guilty. There are double boxes for the texts: “I’m sorry… I’m not good enough.” Page four: the comic is now fully colored. Time passes and Phoenix is putting his attorney’s badge onto his suit. Trucy is looking at him smiling. Phoenix turns to her and smiles back. Page five: Trucy hugs Phoenix with tears in her eyes. Phoenix hugs her back and is now crying. He says,” I’m sorry, Trucy… Daddy’s put you through a lot.” Page six: Phoenix and Trucy and smiling at each other with tears in their eyes. There are double bubbles with texts: “I love you.” End description.]

Links to help Palestine and other resources! 🇵🇸

[Plain text: Links to help Palestine and other resources! (palestine flag). End plain text.]

I have a lot of thoughts about the Wright family. Especially Trucy's experience being adopted suddenly after her father abandons her. I wanted to go into more detail about how the events in her life might have affect her, but that would've been very long-- I rarely see anyone bring it up (I could just not be seeing them of course). Her father abandoning her, then having to move in with a stranger (at first), then having to also live with and depend on Phoenix, who is struggling with his mental and physical health, and also being used by Kristoph and her adoptive dad in a way (making her turn in falsified evidence, help cheat for gambling, etc.). Also the fact that her mother disappeared and her bio dad literally getting murdered. There's so much more that happens to Trucy like-- BRUH give her a break 😭 I just feel like maybe these reasons are why she comes off like she has to shoulder a lot of responsibilities even though she is a child. She kind of takes on the parental role of scolding Phoenix when he drinks.

Of course, I don't blame Phoenix for struggling since he was also going through shit. I just also feel for Trucy as well 😢 Not every family is perfect, which is why I like how their family is portrayed! Even though they're struggling, they still know that they love each other and can depend on each other. It's still not fair to Trucy that she has to live/deal with the adults around her's mistakes and choices. I feel like she has a lot of trauma to unpack and heal from. I think that's also important to remember as well. Phoenix may not have been the best dad, but he tries and they love each other so much 😭🤲💕💕 I just love their dynamic. Especially how quick Phoenix just jumps into the father role 🥺

[hey-august]

Putting Buggy in my favorite tired old romcom trope and imagining him trying to set up a „perfect“ date where he tries his best to come across as a well mannered, bright, conventionally handsome gentleman, because he thinks that’s what YOU would want him to be. He knows he scored this date out of pity, but once he’s done with this evening, you’ll see him as more than a joke of a man, he can do it!

Cue slapstick scenarios en masse, causing him to loose his temper at least once, trying to impress you with a fact that YOU correct him on and that’s just so obviously wrong and an accident that leaves him with only half an eyebrow, singed tips and the wax nose (ESSENTIAL TO HIS PLAN! If he could get rid of that eyesore in the middle of his face he may have had at least a snowball chance in hell with you) to finally abandon ship and melt right of his face.

And you’re enjoying yourself tremendously. You had your doubts when Buggy came in looking so unlike himself, trying to be something he’s not, but now? After all that chaos and one candle accident later? Now that you’re sharing the bottle of wine he snagged before hauling out of the fancy place he tried to wine and dine you at, sitting on the beach laughing about everything and nothing? Perfect date. Would do again. You absolutely love that clown shit.

ADORABLE. PRECIOUS. LOVELY.

LET'S EXPLORE THIS CONCEPT SOME MORE, ANON.

WC: ~800 Warnings: buggy x GN!reader, some profanity, drinking, that's about it

Of course it’s a pity date - that’s the only reason you agreed so readily. It’s definitely not because Buggy blurted out the question before you had a chance to ask him on a date. And the way you choked on your drink? That had to be because you thought it was a joke. Not because you were surprised and excited.

Let’s not talk about everything leading up to the date itself. Like how all his “good” shirts were dirty or wrinkled. One smelled like old hot dogs. So he had to borrow a shirt and it was fine. Kind of plain, though. Not flashy. Plain white cotton, but at least it fit.

And his hair. A low ponytail would suit the occasion. Hopefully you wouldn’t notice his greasy roots. Buggy ran out of time to wash his hair because of everything else he was working on. Mainly the nose. He sculpted it out of wax and it looked… It would probably look alright during a candlelit dinner.

Buggy just needed to get through the dinner, prove himself as a decent guy, score a second date, maybe a kiss or two, and that’s all. Not too much to ask for, right?

Well…he forgot to bring you flowers. He showed up empty handed (except for the sweat collecting in his palms). You didn’t say anything, but he’s certain you noticed and were adding it to The List of Failures. And that’s only the start of his panicking.

Next, Buggy demanded a table. That table. Yeah, the one that is already occupied. Fine, okay, this table is alright. He wanted the darker corner since it was more intimate (not so he could hide his nose or the sweat stains in his pits), but whatever. 

Then he demanded the good wine. The real shit, not that cheap boxed shit. And he can tell the difference! Which is true, Buggy is a boxed wine connoisseur. Well…here’s the thing. Smell and taste are tied together, and that wax nose was more decorational than practical. Some words were had over the wine, before the sommelier brought over a dusty unopened bottle for Buggy to inspect and give gruff approval for.

You tried to interrupt and say the other wine was just as good (and far less expensive), but Buggy was too eager to please and too nervous to back down. 

The rest happened in a blur. Buggy doesn’t remember much. He might have talked over the waiter explaining the day’s specials. He definitely kicked the table a few times while trying to sit comfortably. Maybe he laughed a little too loudly and another table told him to be quiet. And maybe he threw a bread roll at that table.

Buggy definitely remembers knocking over your glass of water, though. It was an accident. He was reaching for your hand for some dumb reason and your drink got in the way. Of course he wanted to help, so he leapt out of his chair, kicking the table yet again, and pretty much threw his napkin at you.

And in this chaos, he must have leaned over the table too long. Over the tealight. Even though it was a small candle, and it was only a few seconds, his glob of wax was ready to make a grand exit. It was already barely clinging to his sweaty oily skin, and this was the right time to just -PLOP- right into a puddle of water on the table.

But here’s the thing that you’ll take to your grave. Seeing Buggy hunched over the messed up tablescape, hands over his face, and looking downright mortified and murderous - well, it made your heart pitter-patter.

Buggy looked like himself, for the first time that night. That “nose” was not really your preference, so hiding the middle of his face from view reminded you of how much you were crushing on the cute clown.

Dinner was over at this point. Staff was walking over, the table with an extra roll was also shouting for Buggy to be ejected, there was broken glass on the table. It was time to go.

Ending the night on the seashore was a much better way to spend your first date with Buggy. He had pulled out his red nose from a pocket so he could actually enjoy the wine. Surprise, surprise, it didn’t taste any better and he lamented not throwing it at the sommelier before leaving.

You’re glad he didn’t though. Because then you wouldn’t get to watch him drink from the bottle under the moonlight. His adam’s apple bobbing with each gulp. Drops of liquid escaping from the corners of his lips and starting a journey down. That white shirt was now unbuttoned (so his armpits to dry out) and rolled at the sleeves. 

And, well - damn.

Buggy was definitely getting a second date and a few kisses. Maybe something a little extra for dessert.

[watermelonlovershigh]

The Rated R Card Game {part 6.} (housemate!harry series)

Returning Favors {part 5.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

AN: this part took me the longest to write because i couldn't get the wording right and kept having to switch things up. this is mainly a filler chapter meaning not much happens but will be needed for context later in the series. i hope you enjoy. let me know what you think. thank you for reading.

This story contains: mentions of bisexuality, mentions of threesomes, mentions of kissing, mentions of mommy and daddy kink, mentions of sexual stuff in general, mentions of a safe word being used, fluff

{ housemate!harry - friendrry - soft!harry - au!harry }

word count- 1,977

Your friends Mave and Charlotte come over to yours and Harry's house to eat pizza, drink wine, chat, and play a very rated R card game.

Friday has finally arrived and you are filled with excitement. Your friends Mave and Charlotte are coming over to meet Harry for the first time. After spending a few hours working on your computer, you got up and started tidying around Harry's living room, which was already clean as he maintains a fairly tidy house. You took out the card game you intend to play tonight and set it on the coffee table. The only thing left is the alcohol, but Harry will be picking some up on his way home from work.

After leaving the school where he teaches at, Harry drove to a nearby shop and obtained the wine you had requested. You'd asked Charlotte and Mave about their choice of alcohol and they recommended wine to prevent themselves from getting too intoxicated by stronger spirits. Upon arriving home, Harry placed the wine bottles in the refrigerator to chill, and then hurriedly went to take a quick shower.

At approximately seven o'clock, your friends arrived at your home via Uber, as they foresaw the possibility of becoming too intoxicated to drive home later in the night. You introduced them to Harry and they formed a liking to him instantly. In a playful manner, they whispered to you that they may just steal him away from you, that's how much they liked him. Plus, attractive wise, they thought he was hot.

Harry kindly ordered a pizza to the house and the four of you gathered in the living room, indulging in the large pizza accompanied by several glasses of wine. Essentially, you all spent a delightful two hours eating, drinking, and having great conversations in the living room. Mave and Charlotte made quite the impression on Harry. They were incredibly easy to be around and had a remarkable talent for lightening the atmosphere with their jokes, especially during moments of high tension. They possessed a fearless nature and were never hesitant to speak their minds.

Once everyone was stuffed with pizza, you pick up the card game you had sat on the coffee table earlier in the day and announce, "Okay, game time."

"How does this game work exactly?" Harry asks, followed by a giggle. Yep, he was definitely tipsy.

You open the box and pull out the stack of cards. You know there's a correct way to play this game but you wanted to make up your own rules, just to spice things up. "Okay, so basically I'm gonna leave the stack of cards in the middle of the table. We'll each take turns picking a card but to make it fun, we all have to potentially answer every question, no matter who pulled it. Each card has either questions or something we must confess. If you don't feel comfortable answering one then you must take a sip of wine. Got it?"

"Seems easy enough." Charlotte exclaims with a clap of her hands.

"Hey, can I pick first?" Mave asks eagerly and you all agree.

As everyone sits around the coffee table on the floor, Mave reaches for the top card and giggles as she silently reads it. "You've got to actually read it out loud." Charlotte remarks in a sassy tone.

"Okay, okay," Mave retorts before repeating what the card says out loud this time. "Have you ever made out with a guy in the back of a car before?"

You, Mave, and Charlotte each say "yes" with confidence before stealing a glance towards Harry, hoping to gauge his response to the question. To your surprise, he appears bewildered and voices his confusion. "What kind of questions are these? I was expectin' somethin' light-hearted, not about romantic encounters," he queries.

You pick up the game's box and point to the bottom right corner where it shows the R rating. Once he notices, he mutters an, "Oh fuck!", taking a swig of his red wine for dramatic effect. "But um, yes I have."

Charlotte and Mave are surprised to learn that he's kissed a guy. Not in a judgmental way but they are genuinely shocked considering how much you confide in them about Harry's feelings for you. It seems you forgot to mention that Harry was bisexual, but then realize it's not your place to inform them of that anyways. Charlotte boldly questions Harry, "You've made out with a guy before?"

Harry nods his head in agreement and casually states, "Yes, m' bisexual. Y/n didn't inform you of that?" Though he knows one's sexuality isn't something people tend to share, he knew you shared nearly everything with these two friends so he's surprised you didn't let his sexuality slip up in a conversation before. But knowing you didn't share makes him feel all warm inside. It shows how much you care and respect him.

The woman shakes her head to indicate she was unaware. Harry typically never feels anxious about sharing his bisexuality as he finds that most individuals are accepting or simply don't care. Although he occasionally encounters negative reactions, mostly from the people he's seeing, he makes an effort to try and not allow those to affect him.

"My turn," you announce, reaching for the next card to advance the game. "Ohhh, a confession. How intriguing. Do you tend to be more dominant or submissive in bed? Mhm...... as for me, it's quite simple. I can be either, depending on my mood."

"No way," Harry interjects, "m' also a switch. Just depends on the person and the mood m' in at that moment." As you glance at one another, you can feel a secret message being conveyed through just your eyes alone. One that's saying you're meant to be. A perfect match, some would consider. Because it's rare for both people in a relationship to be dominate some times and submissive other times.

Mave and Charlotte affirm they're both complete submissives, leaving Harry to select the next card. "Tell us about the most outrageous experience you've had during a sexual encounter. Uhm, let me think on that for a moment."

"Oh, I know." Mave speaks, "For me, I'd have to say being double penetrated."

"You what?" you gasp at her answer, unaware of this encounter she's had. She usually tells you everything but you guess she's been keeping this one a secret.

With a playful giggle, she admits, "Back in uni, I had a few threesomes, and one of them involved double penetration. It was painful at first but the pleasure that followed was incredible." Her confession triggers a vivid image of you in Harry's mind, arousing him at just the thought of having a threesome with you. But he wonders if you were open to that idea.

"Personally, I tied a man to the bed once and rode him while he wore a cock ring. Although it was pleasurable for me, the man experienced tons of discomfort. So I decided to let him come after an hour." you answer the question. It wasn't super outrageous but you weren't that freaky in bed. Again, all Harry can think about is you doing that to him and at this point he has to set one of the couch pillows in his lap without looking too suspicious. He's now actually hard in his pants.

After thinking for a minute more, Harry's ready to answer. "I guess my answer would be, this one time I let a girl fuck my throat with her strap-on. Let's just say my throat was bruised for days." Fuck, now it's you conjuring up images of possibly doing that to Harry. You don't own a strap-on but you sure as hell would go out and buy one if he agrees.

Charlotte optes to taking a drink of wine instead of answering and then picks a card beings it's her turn now. "Have you ever had to use your safeword during sex? Thankfully no. What about you all?"

Harry and Mave both said no as their answer, whereas you, on the contrary, chose to take a sip of wine. You could have easily said the truth, which would have been yes, but then would've had to provide an explanation for their curious minds. And you'd prefer not to do that in front of everyone, especially as it regards the situation where you had to use your safe word. It evokes a very unpleasant memory. Nevertheless, you can see a compassionate expression on Harry's face and have a feeling he'll bring it up at a later time.

The game continues with questions like, "Where is the most unusual place you have engaged in sexual activity?" "What is your preferred sexual position?" "Have you ever accidentally called out the wrong name during sex?" "Do you secretly have a mommy or daddy kink?" Harry's responses were as follows: in a club bathroom, preferring missionary with women to see their expressions and opting for the doggy style with men, almost moaning the wrong name (which happened to be yours), and has only ever jokingly used the terms daddy or mommy if his partner was interested in that kind of stuff.

Your responses to those particular questions consisted of: the bathtub, missionary or spooning position, almost saying Harry's name but correcting yourself before it was on the verge of slipping out, (though you didn't share to them it was Harry whoms name it was), and lastly, although you're not actually into the whole kink, you've humorously said daddy once to cater to your partner's wishes. Which made you cringe so bad immediately after.

By the time eleven o'clock rolled around, all of you were considerably intoxicated. Though most of you managed to answer every question, you've still been continuously sipping from your wine glasses with multiple refills. In a drunken manner, your friends suggested, "Maybe we should call an umb... uber...."

Rising on wobbly legs, Harry retorts, "Why don't you both stay if you want? I'm sure Y/n wouldn't mind you sleepin' in her bed, and she can sleep with me in mine. That way you won't have to go home drunk." Harry is literally the sweetest.

"You sure?" Mave asks, looking at both of you for confirmation.

You nod, agreeing, "Yeah, yeah. That's fine. Just don't puke in my bed, please." remembering all the times where they've gotten sick from being too drunk.

-------------------------------

With Mave and Charlotte settled in your bed, you made your way to Harry's room across the hall. He was busy arranging the pillows and covers. Just as you were about to join him in bed, you remembered, "Wait a minute, I need to use the bathroom."

Harry bursts into laughter. "Is that so? You didn't realize that when you were in the hallway?"

"Hey, no laughing at me!" You exit the room and hurry to the bathroom located in the hallway. Upon your return, Harry is already tucked in under the duvet, with only the lamp providing a dim light. As you join him, and he reaches over to switch off the lamp.

Now in the dark bedroom, Harry shuffles closer to you for a cuddle and whispers, "You're not gonna puke in my bed are you?"

You playfully swat at his chest and confirm, "No, I'm not that drunk, silly. But I will have a killer headache in the morning. Night."

"Night, sleep tight." Harry leans in and plants a tender kiss on your lips, momentarily catching you off guard. However, you quickly embrace the intimate moment, realizing that receiving these small, affectionate kisses from him for no specific reason is something you should start getting accustomed to. After all, it's a typical aspect of being in a relationship, isn't it?

As you gradually drift off to sleep, your mind becomes consumed by the lingering sensation of Harry's lips meeting yours and the burning curiosity to discuss the explicit answers he provided during the rated R card game earlier.

(PLEASE REBLOG BECAUSE WRITING IS NOT EASY AND IT'S FREE SO JUST DO IT)

(no more tags are allowed because i've hit my number limit. sorry : ( )

tag list: @one-sweet-gubler // @harryscherrysugar // @hsfanficsrecss // @lollypopsx // @harrycanyonmoonn // @allthelovehes // @damnasstyles  // @mrsstylesharry // @softmullet  // @meetmyblondemuffins  // @thegirlnextdoorssister // @stanleystyles  // @haarrrys // @michellekstyles  // @skyangel57   // @the-gardener-31 // @lhharrylilpumpkin // @yousunshine-youtemptress // @clairestylessss  // @kissmyaxe140  // @goldenmelonsugar-hi // @kaitieskidmore97 // @florencepughily  // @alienorknight //@dancearoundthelivingroom  // @swiftmendeshoran

 // @luv-flor7777  // @alohastyles-x // @tenaciousperfectionunknown  // @sleutherclaw // @siredtohybrid // @whoscamila // @a-strange-familiar  // @golden-elodie // @mrspeacem1nusone //  @goldenkhae // @lntwithhrry  // @shadowygladiatorlight  // @manifestrry  //@mendesblurb // @sunshinemoonsposts  // @depersonalizationsucks // @academiaghost // @zendayassimp // @reveriehs // @vsnnstuff // @dancinsunflowerkiwi // @quinnsgrapejuice // @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite // @justlemmeholdyou // @hsonlyangelxo // @luvonstyles // @howdey

______________

My Masterlist Masterpost

Spontaneous Pleasures {part 7.} (housemate!harry series) (SMUT)

[ravennaortiz]

August 14th features Bottles with the prompt "Surprise!" requested by the lovely @hatersaremymotivators As always my stories are 18+

You groaned as you pulled a pillow over your head. Trying to block out the sunshine that was beaming onto your face. Rolling onto your stomach you tried to go back to sleep but finally gave up when your phone started ringing. Grabbing it you saw it was just your brother and declined as you stood up tossing the phone onto the bed. You stretched before making your way to your bathroom for a shower.

The party last night had you smelling like the clubhouse and feeling sticky. A good shower would start your birthday right. Hell you thought maybe you would take yourself into that new brunch spot in town for breakfast. Then maybe a day of shopping followed by a bottle of wine and a box of chocolates in a nice hot bath.

Making your way downstairs in just a loose tank top and thong you were confused by the smell of coffee. Shrugging it off as having somehow set it up last night when you got home you continued into the living room flipping on your stereo. While the gentle sounds of pop flowed out you made your way to the kitchen. Unable to stop the swing of your hips to the rhythm. As you bounced through the doorway you couldn’t help the scream of terror that poured out of your eyes landed on a shirtless man.

“Surprise” yelled Bottles as he turned to you smiling only for you to shriek before grabbing a mug and hurling it at his head. “I’m sorry” he yelled as he dodged the mug.

“How did you get in my house” you demanded as you steadied yourself on the counter.

“You brought me home with you last night” stated Bottles as he looked at you in confusion. “I mean technically I brought you because you were a bit to tipsy to drive. But you asked me to stay” he added as he made his way to you.

“Oh” you mumbled as you racked your brain for any sort of memory of last night. Had you drank that much? So much you wouldn’t remember bringing one of your brothers club members home and ask him to stay. “Did I…did I do or say anything else?” you asked as you finally looked at his face before looking away. You had a huge crush on Bottles and could only imagine what your drunk self had done.

Bottles chuckled, his cheeks blushing slightly as he looked away from you before replying. “Well, you may have got your hands in my pants a bit. You were quicker than I thought you would be. Then you flashed me to prove you had no panties on and shoved your tongue down my throat.” He laughed as you groaned and slid down to the floor resting your head on your knees. “That was just the car ride here” he added as he moved closer.

“I’m so sorry” you mumbled as you looked up at him. Bottles had a hint of mischief in his eyes as he looked down at you before moving one of his hands to your head making you swallow hard.

“I think I know how you could make it up to me” he whispered as he stepped forward his crotch in your face. “You do look really pretty down there”

As you reached out to palm him through his shorts you were interrupted by the voice of your brother.

“The fuck is going on here?” demanded Guero as he stood in your kitchen eyeing you and Bottles.

“I was just helping her off the floor. Too much drink last night.” Lied Bottles smoothly as he helped you up sending a wink your way.

Return to Masterlist

[tarithenurse]

The roommate - 2

Fandom: MCU. Pairing/starring: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader. Word count: 1322. Content: Major pining, slight drinking, confession, unprotected smut, [Y/N]. A/N: Couldn’t leave the first part stand alone so here’s a bit more. Please reblog and comment – it’s fuel! Unbetaed as usual.

2

The emptied boxes of the takeaway still litter the table, but you don’t pay them any mind as you’re nursing your glass of wine and listening intently to James. Bucky. You’ve never heard him speak this much before and you’re lapping it up, clinging to every word as he talks about the old days with Steve (which seems like a much too casual way to refer to Captain America), and the guys from the unit he was in: the Howling Commandos.

He isn’t talking about the missions or the danger. No, he’s telling a story about how Gabe Jones had had a crush on one of the ladies at a bar in a town they came through in France and how they’d made him confess to her.

“I guess my point is...when you know, you better go for it,” he muses.

You’ve kinda lost the thread but don’t mind to just nodding along as long as James will keep talking.

He pins you with a stare of those stormy eyes, a small smile pulling at one corner of his mouth. “So why haven’t you?”

“Why haven’t I what?” you try to catch up.

“Gone for it...with anyone?” Maybe he sees your confusion because he rushes to explain: “All the time I’ve lived here, you’ve never brought anyone home or gone to anyone.”

You shrug. “I don’t know...just haven’t...” You shrug en lieu of a better explanation. “But neither have you, so I guess I could ask you the same,” you point out.

He laughs at that. Not a big laugh, but a little half-scoff that sounds like he is all too aware of it. “Kinda hard to rejoin the dating-market at age 107 plus/minus depending on how you count the Blip years.” He takes a sip of his wine and then regards the liquid in the glass slosh as he sets it down. “Besides...I found someone but I’m not sure how to broach the subject with her.”

Something in you shatters but you quickly swipe the shards away, telling yourself that you should have known better.

Getting up and starting to collect the plates, you try to keep your voice light: “You just gotta tell her straight up. As you said...when you know you better go for it.”

You can sense your hands trembling and you’re glad for the cleaning up to hide it with.

“So just...listen, I really like you?” James says.

“Yeah, just like that.”

You’ve gathered up most and try not to run to the kitchen with it to hide. But of course James is James and as you should have expected, he grabs the rest and follows you.

Why does it even bother you? Sure, you’ve been increasingly friendly over the last year but...it’s always been platonic, right?

“[Y/N],” he says and you hum something in response. “[Y/N],” he tries again, “look at me.” You force yourself to do so and you see all of the tenderness of the man in his gaze as he repeats his words: “I really like you. You.”

“Me?”

He nods. Stepping closer, he lifts a hand to your cheek, slowly brushing the thumb along your cheekbone. Then he dips his head down and your lips almost meet but he pauses and whispers: “May I?”

“Mhm!” you whimper in acceptance, too nervous to breach the gap.

But he does. His beard scratches a bit and is a pleasant contrast to the softness of his lips and the gentle sweep of his tongue along the seam of your mouth. His left arm has snaked around your waist, pulling you closer, while the other hand tangles in your hair to tilt your head just right.

You’re out of breath when he pulls away slightly, looking down at you through heavy-lidded eyes.

Next thing you know he’s backed you up against the counter as he’s kissing you like a man starved. You’re not much more restrained yourself, responding eagerly and your hands sliding over every inch of his body you can reach before slipping up under his Henley to feel how his skin puckers at your touch.

“Careful, doll,” he mumbles, “might not be able to stop soon.”

This time you’re the one to pull back enough to look up at him. “I don’t want you to,” you admit.

His gaze darkens deliciously at your words.

It’s easy for him to push you against the counter, pinning you in place for a new onslaught of kisses that trail down your neck to your collarbones and the top of your breasts that are barely accessible if he tugs at your shirt. The shirt. Suddenly he’s pulling it over your head and you eagerly help him before mirroring his actions with him.

For a 107 year old guy he’s in excellent shape. Scratch that: he’s gorgeous. Letting your fingertips run over his chest, you see how his muscles bunch and coil as he moves to pull your leggings down so he can grab at the flesh of your ass. Big handfuls that lifts you up and next moment you’re on the counter and he’s standing before you. He pulls you to the very edge and gets rid of the leggings completely before slotting his hips between your legs which he lift to clamp around him and you’re so close that you can feel the bulge press against you.

Your hands move according to your desires, cupping him through the sweatpants and making him groan. He feels big.

“I should’ve taken you on dates first,” he manages to mutter. “Nice dinners. Really courted you.”

“There’s time for that later,” you smile, nibbling at his earlobe. “Now fuck me like you mean it.”

You only just have time to free his cock from the restraints before he’s torn your undies to shreds and pulled you so far out on the counter that you have to lean back or topple off. But he helps you, of course he does: getting your legs on his shoulders, he dives in to eat you out with gusto. His broad licks and flicks of the tip of the tongue has you moaning all too loudly after a short moment and when he growls into your pussy, the vibrations nearly send you over the edge.

“J-James,” you gasp.

He knows what you mean but he still takes his time to kiss his way up from the kneeling position. And he is slow as he runs the length of his cock between your folds, smearing it with your juices.

But then he slides in. He hasn’t prepared you so he feels massive but you take him eagerly, wanting him, needing him. Your cunt flutters around him and you’re both breathing heavily by the time he is fully seated within you. James gives you a moment before he pulls out and slides back in. He’s slow and deliberate. You can see on his face how hard it is for him to hold back like this.

“More,” you beg.

And he complies, speeding up to a deep pace that has you clinging on for dear life while you chant nonsense and your body is seizing as you cum hard, causing him to topple over as your insides clamp onto him.

“Fu-uck,” he groans, ramming as far as he can before stilling with the exception of the throbbing of his cock.

He doesn’t pull out until he’s carried you to the shower. Then he helps you undress completely and washes you down, using the lathering as an excuse for the two of you to explore each others’ bodies and getting wound up all over again.

---

His bed is a single so you’ve ended in your room, now he’s lying with you tugged into his side, an arm around your shoulders and his nose in your hair. You don’t think he’s asleep. But it feels...right. It feels good to just lie and be quiet with each other for a moment.

[vinnieswife]

The proposal

Pete dunham x reader

words: 1,2k

author’s note: can be read as a stand alinea, but it’s the second parte of this! family dinner

It’s a couple of months later, and Pete’s acting shifty. You’re in his car again, only this time, instead of the usual banter, he’s tapping the steering wheel like it owes him money. His foot jiggles against the floorboard, and he keeps glancing at you like he’s waiting for you to notice something.

“Alright, Dunham, spill it,” you say, raising an eyebrow. “You’re fidgeting like Swill when he can’t find his cig pack.”

Pete snorts, though it sounds a bit forced. “What? Nah, I’m fine. Just a casual drive. Totally normal.”

“Totally normal people don’t sweat this much,” you quip, eyeing the small damp patch on his shirt.

“Oi,” he says, shooting you a mock glare. “I’m perfectly fine. Just… enjoy the ride, alright?”

You roll your eyes but settle back in your seat, letting the car’s soft hum fill the silence. Pete drives out of town, past fields and winding roads, until he pulls up to a secluded park you’ve never seen before. There’s a hill in the distance with a lone tree at the top. It looks like the kind of place people go to meditate or bury treasure.

“What’s this?” you ask, leaning forward.

“A surprise,” Pete says, his grin strained as he grabs a picnic basket from the backseat.

“You? Planning a picnic?” you tease, following him out of the car. “Who are you, and what have you done with my Pete?”

“I’m full of surprises love,” he says with an exaggerated wink, though his voice cracks slightly.

The two of you hike up the hill, Pete lugging the basket like it’s filled with gold bricks instead of sandwiches. He sets up under the tree, spreading a blanket with the precision of someone trying to distract themselves from an existential crisis.

“Alright, Dunham,” you say, sitting down. “What’s the deal? You’re acting… weird, really weird.”

“Weird? Me? Never,” Pete says, practically tossing a sandwich into your lap. “I’m just… relaxed. You know, like… zen.”

“You’re about as zen as a cat in a bath,” you retort, taking a bite of your sandwich.

Pete lets out a sharp laugh, clearly stalling, before finally setting his sandwich down and turning to face you. His usual smirk has been replaced with an expression that’s… serious? Vulnerable? Oh no. You’ve never seen Pete like this, and it’s unsettling.

“Right, so,” he starts, rubbing the back of his neck. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Your stomach flips. “Okay…”

Pete fumbles with his jacket pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. Your brain short-circuits for a second.

“Wait,” you say, holding up a hand. “Are you—”

“Let me finish!” Pete blurts, his voice going up an octave. He takes a deep breath, opens the box, and reveals a simple but stunning ring.

“For months,” he begins, his voice wavering, “I’ve been thinking about us. About how you’ve made me… less of an idiot, frankly. You make me better, love. And, well, I reckon I want to spend the rest of my life trying not to fuck it up with you.”

Your jaw drops as Pete slides awkwardly onto one knee, nearly tipping over the picnic basket.

“Y/N,” he says, his voice trembling just enough to be endearing, “will you marry me?”

For a moment, you’re speechless. Pete Dunham, the man who once tried to open a bottle of wine with a shoe, is proposing. And somehow, it’s perfect.

“oh Pete,” you say, tears pricking at your eyes. “Yes, you ridiculous man, I’ll marry you.”

Pete’s face lights up like he’s just won the lottery. “You will? Oh, thank God. For a second there, I thought I’d have to throw myself off this hill to save face.”

You laugh as he slides the ring onto your finger. It fits perfectly, of course, because Pete may be chaotic, but he’s also weirdly thoughtful.

“Blimey,” he says, still kneeling. “I’m knackered. Is proposing always this stressful? I need a drink.”

“Get up, you idiot,” you say, pulling him into a hug.

Pete collapses onto the blanket with a dramatic sigh. “You know, I thought about doing something fancy. Like a plane with one of those banners. But then I remembered I have a shitty wage, so…”

“This is perfect,” you assure him, wiping a tear from your cheek.

Pete grins, leaning in to kiss you. “Perfect, eh? Just wait until I tell Matt. He’s gonna be gutted he didn’t think to propose to someone first.”

You laugh, resting your head on his shoulder as the sun sets over the hill. Pete grabs the wine from the basket, pouring two glasses like a man who’s just conquered the world.

“To us,” he says, holding up his glass.

“To us,” you echo, clinking yours against his.

And as you sit there, sipping wine and teasing each other about what your wedding cake should look like, you realize that life with Pete will always be messy, hilarious, and absolutely perfect.

[irkimatsu]

I hope The con is still going well for you! You can answer this when you get back if that's easiest for you (Go have your fun!!) I'm back with another albeit much less horny request. Maybe it's that I need Keith David to lull me to sleep, maybe it's that I know deep in my heart of hearts that Husk had a Frank Sinatra Vinyl collection in his life, who knows. But I wanna see something cute and fluffy with Husk and music, maybe like Dancing around his room to My Funny Valentine, or Somethin' Stupid. Just cheesy fluff for his❤️

I'm so sorry for how long this took, but I want you to know that this prompt has been consuming my brain ever since I first saw it. I've never heard "Somethin' Stupid" before, so I went and looked it up, and oh my god I love that song for Husk. I just had to write something! Here's some fluff with Husk singing to Reader, there's dancing and confessions and god he's so cute I love him so much~

(If you've never heard the song before, I recommend you listen along once Husk starts singing it! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y_t2gNCXYbY)

You may not be sure of the specifics of Husk’s feelings for you, but however deep they go, you’re grateful for the time he spends with you.

On this evening, the two of you retreated to his bedroom after dinner, to have a drink and some conversation before it’s time for him to open the bar again. You don’t often join him here, but you’ve never for an instant suspected his intentions whenever he invites you. You’re sure that he simply enjoys having one-on-one time with someone without having to worry about others asking him to serve them drinks, and that’s all.

Would you mind if his intentions ever went further than that? You try not to think about that too hard, for fear that your hopes won’t align with his.

For now, you’re happy to sit and chat with him, sipping the sweetly sour red wine he’s poured and listening to the record he’s chosen to play. He seems to have a story for every song on the record, from concerts he’s attended all over the world, to the inspirations for his own performances, to unrelated memories he just happens to associate with the playing songs for reasons even he’s not sure of.

You love every story he has to tell, but your interest is most piqued whenever he speaks of his days in various bands. You may not know what he looked like when he was alive, but you can still see him so clearly on a brightly lit Vegas stage, fingers gliding over the saxophone that he describes with just as much wistful passion that he would use for a past lover. You can see him lowering the saxophone from his lips to start singing, all irritated gravel drained from his voice as it flows through the air, warm like honey, deep timbre filling an emptiness in your gut that you didn’t realize was there before now.

“I’d love to hear you sing more,” you say as he finishes another story about his life as a performer, clearly fond of the days he spent on a stage. “You’ve got a great voice.”

“More?” he asks with a quirked eyebrow. “When have you ever heard me singing at all?”

“You sing all the time when you’re working behind the bar,” you say. “I don’t even think you notice it.”

Husk coughs slightly on the sip he was taking of his wine, but manages to swallow it down with no further incident. “Shit… you’re right, half the time I don’t notice. Cleaning glasses is just so damn tedious, you know? I gotta pass time somehow, and if I’ve got a song stuck in my head I just-”

“You don’t need to explain,” you interrupt. “With a voice like yours, you can sing any time you want. I can’t imagine anyone not wanting to hear it… I know I like hearing it.”

Husk hums thoughtfully as he takes another sip of wine. Is it just you, or are his cheeks faintly flushing from your compliment? Maybe you’re hoping for too much.

After draining his glass and gently setting it back on the table, he lifts himself up from his chair with a grunt. Without explaining himself, he heads to the box of records by the record player and starts flipping through them.

“I could… sing right now, if you want,” he offers, not looking up from the box. “I don’t get to perform much for other people anymore.”

“I’d like that,” you say as you try not to read too much into the gesture. Husk singing to you… for you… you’re sure it doesn’t mean anything and that he’s just showing off, and yet…

“Ah, here we go,” he says as he lifts a sleeve from the box. With great care, he removes the currently playing record and slips it into its own sleeve, then withdraws the new record and settles it in place. After he lowers the needle, gentle guitar strings begin emanating from the player. A few seconds into the song, he begins to sing, and you realize that there are no vocals on the record; the only voice you hear is his.

“I know I stand in line until you think you have the time to spend the evening with me…”

As he sings, he approaches you, feet stepping and tail swishing in rhythm with the song. He stops in front of you, and as the next line begins, he holds his paw out to you with a small smile.

“And if we go some place to dance, I know that there’s a chance you won’t be leaving with me…”

“Who says that I wouldn’t?” you say as you take his hand. He chuckles softly as he pulls you to your feet and resumes singing.

“Then afterwards, we drop into a quiet little place and have a drink or two…”

As he sings, he takes your other hand and holds both of them at chest level, his palms pressed against yours, firm claws and silky fur holding your hands in place.

“And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like ‘I love you’...”

Your heart gives a single heavy beat at those words. You can’t read too much into it, shouldn’t read too much into it- it’s not his song, he’s singing it but he didn’t write it-

But then why did he choose this song to sing for you-

Before you can spend too much time worrying about it, his claws begin skimming down your bare arms.

“I can see it in your eyes that you despise the same old lies you heard the night before…”

They trail up to where your shirt sleeves begin, then take their rest on your shoulders.

“And though it’s just a line to you, for me, it’s true, and never seemed so right before…”

Where are you supposed to put your own hands now? You end up settling them on his hips, and his wings lightly flutter in response, his expression glowing at your touch.

“I practice every day to find some clever lines to say, to make the meaning come true…”

Either one of you could pull the other closer and close the agonizing inches-wide gap between you, but you, at least, can’t find the nerve to make that move. You settle for swaying with him, allowing him to set the pace as he sings.

“But then I think I’ll wait until the evening gets late and I’m alone with you…”

Has he always been this handsome? You may have acknowledged your attraction to him months ago, but in that moment, you see him in an even brighter light than you ever have before. His golden irises shimmer as he stares at you with lidded eyes, his pupils blown wide; he hasn’t taken his gaze off you since the moment he took your hand. His mouth is curved into a small smile, and his sharp fangs do nothing to demean just how soft his expression is as he sings to you.

“The time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red, and oh, the night’s so blue…”

He shifts his arms so that they’re under your own, palms rested on your back, and finally takes the chance to pull you closer, your chest flush with his.

“And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like ‘I love you’...”

You slide your hands from his hips to the small of his back so you can pull him closer in turn, your waists now touching.. He gasps slightly, his smile gone in favor of a look of surprise, and he stops singing. Did you distract him?

“Sorry, I-”

“Shh,” he says simply before returning to silence, swaying you in time with the music. Has the room always been this warm? No, it’s not the room- it’s him, now pressed closer to you than you ever thought possible. The smile’s returned to his features now, his gaze boring so deeply into you that no force in Hell could draw it away. He’s wearing the same cologne he always does, a woody scent that blends so right with the scents of whiskey and tobacco that always cling to his fur. You’ve always associated that scent with Husk, and standing here surrounded by that fragrance is where you’ve belonged for such a long time but never had a chance to be before now.

“The time is right, your perfume fills my head, the stars get red, and oh, the night’s so blue…”

He’s finally started singing again, his voice wavering more than it had the last time he sang that line. You probably wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t busy tuning every one of your senses into him to the exclusion of all else.

“And then I go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like ‘I love you’...”

His breathing is slightly heavier, and you could swear you see a tear beginning to form in the corner of his eye.

“I love you… I love you…”

“I love you,” you respond in tandem with him, and before you can think, you’re pressing your mouth to his. The kiss is so fleeting, giving you barely enough time to savor the softness of his lips or the taste of wine on his breath. His eyes are wide open as you withdraw, still unable to pull away from you.

“I love you,” he sings one more time as the music fades, and follows it with a kiss of his own. His mouth is so gentle against yours as he turns his head to slot your lips together. He doesn’t move his mouth, content enough with the simple contact, though his claws do slightly grip at your shirt. His hot breaths ease into your mouth in a steady rhythm, neither of you moving an inch. Another instrumental has begun to play from the gramophone, but Husk shows no interest in singing along to it. You’re okay with that; as much as you love his voice, him continuing to sing would mean him breaking the kiss.

He makes a surprised, cattish noise as you comb your fingers through the fur on his cheeks and pull him in more firmly, but makes no move to break away from you. Warmth, scent, softness, taste; every one of your senses pleads so desperately for this moment to never end, to be permitted to indulge in him for the rest of your afterlife.

But eventually, he finally withdraws, much too soon for your heart’s liking but at a great relief to your lungs. He laughs nervously as he jerks back out of your grasp, lifting his paws off of you and drawing them closer to himself, out of your reach.

“Sorry,” he says, still trying to laugh. “Got carried away-”

You silence him by grabbing his cheeks and kissing him again, this one much more brief.

“Don’t apologize,” you say before kissing him once more. He still keeps his hands to himself, but he allows himself to enjoy the kiss for as long as you’re willing to give it.

“...I picked that song for a reason,” he admits when you finally break the kiss. “I’ve been… wanting to say something for a while.” He lifts a paw and gently caresses your cheek. “It’s just… been so long, you know? Since I’ve been with somebody. And usually when I’m with somebody, it…” He averts his eyes from you, his ears slightly drooped in shame. “...I’m not easy to handle. Never was, and I’m especially not now.” He laughs derisively. “So it really is stupid of me to think I should say I… well…” He trails off, apparently unable to get the words out when he can’t hide them in a performance.

“You should say stupid things more often,” you assure him as you wrap your arms around his neck and peck him on the nose. “I said it back, didn’t I?”

“You sure you know what you’re getting into?” Husk asks.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he laughs. The energy between the two of you is electrifying, you’re so sure he’s about to kiss you again-

Instead, he yelps in pain and jerks away from you.

“Husk?! Are you okay?!”

“It wasn’t you,” he assures you as he gently rubs at his throat. Despite the gentle tone he’s trying to use with you, you can tell by the way his ears have flattened that he’s pissed. “Just time for me to reopen the bar, that’s all.” His volume lowers as he grumbles to himself. “Someone’s gonna throw a fit if he doesn’t get his fuckin’ rye…”

“I wish we could have spent more time together,” you say. “You could have sang more… and we never finished the wine…”

“How about we pick this up later, after the bar’s closed for the night?” he says. “I wouldn’t mind having you up here more often.” He’s smiling again; it’s not a large one, but it seems you’re able to get his mind off his stressors, if only for a moment.

“It’s a date,” you say, returning his smile. You share a final kiss, much too short for your liking, and let him get back to his work.

You wonder what other “stupid” things he’ll have to tell you later.

[lilsispro]

Idk if people made W2H OCs cuz everywhere i look there like not there except for DeviantArt and 1 tumbler post (which omg I LOVE THEIR OC!! AAA SUCH A COOL CONCEPT! It was a post by @cactusdraw) which actually suprised me how little of OC are in this fandom considering the fact that it was ard the time everyone crazed abt making OCs to put into their fandom (COUGH COUGH ME COUGH COUGH.) Sooo, i figured that uhhhh i would post my OC i made a year ago that i never had the confidence to show to anyone except for my friends, they said it was a good idea to post it! That was in May- now its October 😭, so ive FINALLY built the courage to post it after 5ish months of thinking abt it, i bring to u..

Burger

Yes yes yes ik goofy name, but i like it :3 (random note but, i hate how big i drew her neck 😭 i remember trying to fix it but it looked werid so i just left it 😭)

Alright, now for lore drop for her ig!

Burger was a 16-17 year old attending Black Sheep high school, (think thats the high schools canon name-) one day she was found dead, she then went to heaven, not to long after became a fallen angel and was sent down to hell (idk if fallen angels exist- i need to ask Erica but i know shes busy but i really wanna ask in her message box in her blog 😭.) Then you know got a job to haunt people to get people down there so when hell is fully renovated it can go as one would expect.

Very basic very simple, but thats not really detailed, heres ghe detailed version bellow here instead of the basic structure: (Warning mentions of abuse, violent acts, and underage drinking)

Burger grew up in a not so stable household to say, parents were restricting, abusive, unfair, all the bad lables for crappy parents who basically to say failed at their job as a parent. So she mainly grew alone in her room learning guitar (base), and how to cook for herself and bake. She joined a band thats known around school for being cheap and decent. She also had a crush on a former band mate named Hidey. Since their band is known they have some form of social reputation around there, say in the middle of the social status of the school reputation system. One faithful day they got a commission to play at Zacks GFs party (im gonna assume he has one since hes a jock) for a few hours, they accepted. When Burger got home that day she went to go head out but then had a argument with her dad and got her guitar smashed. She ran out the house mad asf and used a near by phone booth to call her friend to get a spare guitar for her, they get the guitar and hwad to the party. They perform a few songs, everyone's happy, they get offered to stay so thru do so they dont seem rude. As Burger partied, Zacks GF dragged her to her room to speak privately, they get in the room, have a few drinks of wine after raiding the liquor cabinet a while back in the party, Zacks GF started to act a little of and before burger could say anything abt it, she gets pinned down onto the bed and gets her head slashed off. Turns out, Zacks GF had red punch looking similar to wine while she had wine,and also turns out Zacks GF hated her guts for one reason. A middle school crush on Zack. The most stupidest reason to have a grudge or kill someone over. So then she got to heaven and got a job as a guardian angel, sucked at that not even showing up to her job and instead did sinful like acts in heaven without knowing and got sent to hell becoming a fallen angel and getting a job to haunt a girl named Maria (which my friends OC) and drive her to suicide.

SO MUCH WORD OMG! But thats the detailish version of it! Maria is my friends OC like i said, she told me i could put her in so yeah. Also they dont have the best bond, simialr to socks and jons but instead of one being a joyful teasing demon, burger is a sarcastic ass, and Maria is a depressed teenager that annoyed by her demon. So basically Jonathan and Jonathan. They have some sentimental moments (AND GAY ASS MOMENTS) where they get a little connection to each other. Burgers has 2 canon connections to 2 canon characters, one with jon which is just rivals and same with sock. She basically hates their guts and constantly tries to persuaded Maria to mess with jon but failes horribly. Essentially shes a mix of Jon, Jojo, and sock in th slightest ways with the simialr characteristics/traits and the general way of acting.

Omg thats so much words i feel so bad for writing this much but ima end it off here! Also, other drawings of her

I wanna start drawing her again cuz i got the idea to put her ina a heather chandeliers costume for fun but i cant draw her hair the same way i did a while back. If i find the original drawing of her ill edit the post and pu it in! For now cya!!!

[cordelianewman]

Merry Christmas to all my friends,

Wishing you a very merry holiday and a beautiful start to 2025.

@docolives

two beautiful mirrored trays to place your perfumes, jewelry, or really anything on for either your bedroom or to decorate your living room with and a set of stunning wine glasses ( 4 ) that have a golden shimmer to them.

@narilily

a couple of cut glass vases to add some different textures to the beautiful flowers you always have and a trinket box for besides your bed or wherever you need to stash a couple of things.

@lenavaz

A little shoulder bag that is completely beaded in this gorgeous rosy gold color and a velvet fringe floral blanket to keep you extra toasty warm in the winter but make it fashion

@sunnynardelli

A beaded shoulder bag with little wine and cocktail glasses for the fabulous drinks you serve up and a mother of pearl coated candle to use when you need a cozy night in.

@stellylee

couldn't pass up all things extra cozy so an extra warm sweater for you to wear ( or share! ) and a blanket to keep warm on those blustering cold nights.

@rafaelcb

for the person who has everything a whiskey tasting set of glasses ( 4 ) to have friends around with you and a gorgeous plush scarf for those extra cold times to bundle up.

@xalecjacobs

a catch up on all the extra sweet Christmas goodies since it's been forever since I did a Sunday baking moment for you, and a zip sweater to keep warm with.

@xcorikhang

A gorgeous sequined pattern sweater for a little extra sparkle and a marble jewelry holder for on your nightstand or dresser.

@brooksienewman

since you have to get up at the crack of dawn sometimes an alarm clock that also plays different relaxing noises so you can get the best night sleep and a new wallet that has hidden compartments for cash and change.

@lucie-newman

a jewelry holder that also seconds as a wall piece of decor to decorate your place with wherever you may choose and a Lomo'Instant wide camera for cute little photography you choose to take along the way.

@elisequinn

Couldn't pass up a chance to give a cozy sweater to keep you warm when you're out and about and a beautiful mug for coffee or tea.

[weareapackofstrays]

A Work of Art

Genre: Non-Idol graduate school au, Strangers to lovers, Fluff

Pairing: Sangyeon x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut, Drinking, Mention of su!cide in reference to a painting. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Word Count: 5,709 + text messages

The lecture hall is buzzing with students waiting for your professor to show up. Once he finally enters, everyone quiets down and takes a seat for the lecture. Your class only meets once a week, while the rest of the class is taught online. So when your professor announces at the end of class that everyone would be paired up per his choosing for a project you were kind of surprised. Everyone in this classroom was practically a stranger. You may have interacted with a handful of them weekly for your online discussion board homework, but you couldn’t identify a single one in the room. You can see everyone looking around wondering who they were going to be paired with. A few students making eye contact, hopeful to be partnered together. 

“Each of you will go to a museum in the area to write a minimum 1000 word essay together on the museum’s management and collection and why or why not it is successful. Partners who wish to do a presentation instead are also welcome, but you must let me know ahead of time.” Your professor pulls up the requirements on the projector to review while students snap pictures of the board with their phones. “And before you get any ideas, I will be requiring proof of your attendance, such as a ticket.” A few students groan while the professor smirks and continues. “I will email everyone tonight with your assigned partner. See you all next week!” The sound of chairs scraping the floor punctuates the end of class. Curiosity and excitement seems to fill the auditorium as everyone makes their way to the exit. 

Later that evening you open your laptop in anticipation of your Professor’s email. You could feel yourself getting antsy so you pour yourself a glass of wine. To avoid refreshing your email every few seconds, you start to pace around your living room knocking back your drink. Why were you so nervous? You ask yourself. Probably because you’re a bit of an introvert and while you do alright in social settings, the thought of having to interact with a complete stranger gives you a little anxiety. You walk up to your laptop after polishing off a third glass and refresh one last time.

Professor Moon Subject: Partner Assignment 10:00 PM 

Ungracefully collapsing into your chair, you grab hold of your mouse to click on the email. You read through your professor’s words before landing on the name Sangyeon Lee as the person you have been paired with. 

“Hmm,” you say aloud. Their name wasn’t familiar to you, not that it mattered since you had no idea who was who in your class. You're curious if they’re a man or a woman. Reading through the syllabus, you notice your professor CC’d Sangyeon as well to initiate communication. You give your neck a stretch and get to typing.

Dear Sangyeon,

Delete, delete, delete

“This isn't a formal letter, Y/n.” You pause to take a sip of your wine, swishing the cheap red in your mouth like a sommelier. Crossing your legs in your chair to get comfortable, you continue to type.

Hi Sangyeon, Congratulations!

“No, they probably won’t find that funny.”

Delete, delete, delete

You start again.

Hi Sangyeon, I’m your partner for the museum paper. My number is 285-543-2351. Feel free to text me your availability.  -Y/n

“Short and sweet.” Satisfied, you close your laptop and head to the couch to turn on the tv. Just as you are getting into the Gilmore Girls theme song, your mobile pings interrupting your slightly drunken impression of Carole King. You pick up the device and see a text message from an unknown number. You swipe the notification to respond.

“Great first impression, Y/n.” You smack your palm to your forehead. Speaking of the blessed cheap boxed wine, you look over at your kitchen counter and debate pouring another glass. What the hell, why not? You think.

After taking a shower and doing your hair, you peruse your closet wondering what to wear. Flipping through your choices you decide to keep it comfortable. You inspect your outfit in the mirror before deciding to change again. Then again. And one more time just for good measure. The nerves were starting to get to you and this was beginning to feel more like a first date than a class project. Finally, you settle on some heeled brown leather boots, a mid length jean skirt with a slit up the sides, and a light cream colored cardigan tucked in. Better to make a good first impression, you think. You’re applying some mascara when your phone chimes.

A black jeep pulls up to the curb of your apartment and you look down to your phone screen to see a here from Sangyeon. The butterflies have started to cha cha slide in your belly and you want to consider making excuses, but instead your shaky hands send Sangyeon a quick text that you’ll be down in a moment. After making sure everything is off then checking it twice and thrice, you take one last look in the mirror before leaving.

As you approach the jeep, Sangyeon opens his door and pops out. You stop dead in your tracks as your eyes process the gorgeous stranger in front of you. You suddenly feel like you're in a drama as a warm breeze blows through his brown hair. He flips his head to the side slightly to move the hair from his eyes and you feel your mouth gape open. He is wearing a white linen button up with dark slacks. He walks around the front of his jeep to the passenger side to greet you.

“Y/n?” He points to you twirling his key ring on one finger.

“Who?” How to words? You try to remember.

“What?”

“Sorry, I mean yes, hi! I’m Y/n.” You stretch out your hand to shake his and he takes hold of you. You like the roughness of his calluses on your soft palms. “Um, Sangyeon, I assume?” 

“You assume correctly.” He looks down at your still connected hands and laughs. You notice and immediately release him.

“Oh sorry.” You tuck some hair behind your ear and adjust the strap of your purse on your shoulder looking away nervously. Sangyeon tilts his head to look you over briefly while you're turned away. He finds you beautiful. Interesting. Not what he was expecting, but quite possibly the prettiest person he has ever seen. He finally speaks.

“Should we get going then?” You nod and smile weakly. You’re so taken aback by this handsome man that you have to remind yourself how to walk, hoping your face isn’t giving anything away. He opens the door and beckons for you to get in. Once you're inside, Sangyeon grabs the buckle and tugs it forward to hand to you. 

“Safety first.” He softly chuckles. 

You take the seat belt from him, accidentally brushing his finger. “Thank you,” you say a little too shakily. If Sangyeon feels anything, he doesn’t show it. He heads to his side and you take out your phone to distract yourself. He turns the car on and starts punching in directions to the museum. As you’re absentmindedly scrolling through your phone you miss Sangyeon swiveling in his seat, looking in your direction. With one hand on the steering wheel, he places a hand on the back of your headrest. You smell his cologne first before you look up at him surprised to meet his eyes. He looks down at you and smiles. His eyes turn into crescents and you can feel your heartbeat quicken in your chest. Sangyeon turns his attention to the back window and backs the car up from the curb. While he looks behind you, you take the time to visually trace and memorize the shape of his features. You notice he has the nose of a Roman god and the jawline of a Greek one. You shake your head and force your eyes away from him just as you land on his Adam's apple. Sangyeon faces forward and shifts into drive, watching you from his peripheral. He tries to think of something to say and clears his throat. 

“So, have you been to the High before?”

You put your phone into your purse. “I have, but I admit it’s only been a few times. I think the last time I came was when Yayoi Kusama’s Infinity Mirrors was here.”

“Wow, I wish I could have seen that.” 

“It was amazing.” 

The nerves start to subside as the two of you get comfortable making small talk on the way. Once Sangyeon parks, he runs around to your side to open the door for you. While he helps you out the car, you feel his thumb brush over your knuckles. You wonder if he meant to do that or if it was accidental, but you try not to think anything of it. 

The two of you grab a map of the museum and make your way up the spiral pathway. The sun beams through the large glass windows and Sangyeon notices the way your irises illuminate when the rays reflect in your eyes. He watches as you admire the atrium, your jaw slightly dropping as you take in the sight. Sangyeon smiles to himself as he feels his cheeks begin to bloom. You look back down to review the map and plan your course of action.

“Okay, over here is European artwork and ceramics. We can start there and work our way up.” You notice he is looking at you when you face him to confirm the plan, the smile never leaving his lips. You have to tell your heart to keep it down while he nods and gives you a salute. 

“You lead the way, Captain.” He pauses, holding his hand out in front of him signaling for you to enter the first gallery. You bow your head slightly in thanks and walk past him. You make your way through the exhibit stopping briefly by a few pieces to look over them. Sangyeon slowly trails behind you, keeping a little distance so he can watch you. He knows he should be looking at the artwork, but he finds you to be more fascinating. He likes the way you get so close to the artwork your nose almost touches the canvases. Security has had to tell you to back up at least twice now. He also notices the way you pout in concentration as you read the descriptions of the pieces, mouthing each word.

While admiring a Matisse, Sangyeon swallows hard as you make an “o” with your mouth. Warmth travels through his body and he has to mentally swat away the burgeoning dirty thoughts. 

“You like Matisse?” he asks.

“I do, especially his sculpture. I didn’t know they had one here.” 

“You really love this stuff, don’t you?” You look at him confused by his question.

“Of course, don’t you?”

“Sure, but not in the way you do. I should maybe appreciate all of this more.” He chuckles. Sangyeon later discovers a Rodin sculpture and calls you over. 

“Y/n, take a look at this. They have a Rodin too.”

“Wow! It’s beautiful!” You clap your hands at his discovery. He loves how excited you get, almost like a child. 

“There's a lot of amazing artwork here. I really didn't know.” 

Nearing the end of this exhibition, you finally arrive at the painting you have been hoping to see again. Having been distracted by a piece of ceramics, Sangyeon loses sight of you and looks around. He turns the corner and finds you staring at a small painting intently. The light above you cascades over your golden hair creating a halo. He tentatively approaches, almost sad at the thought of disturbing your entranced state, but too eager to be close to you to keep away. He walks up behind you, so close that he gets a whiff of your shampoo or perfume. He discreetly smells you and feels his heart clutch at the hints of florals and tropical scent. Your hair looks so soft and inviting and all he wants to do is plant his face in its strands. Your skin tingles as you sense Sangyeon’s presence. The warmth from him engulfing you. He takes his place next to you once he notices your attention on him.

“You’ve been staring at this one longer than the others.”

“Have I? Sorry.”

“Don’t be. I was just wondering what was so intriguing about it.”

“It’s called The Funeral of Atala by Anne-Louis Girodet de Roussy-Trioson. It is a New World retelling of Romeo and Juliet. Chactas, the man,” You point to the dark haired man on the left wearing a red sash and continue. “Is mourning his beloved Atala who committed suicide so she wouldn’t break her vow of chastity to her dying mother.”

You watch as Sangyeon’s expression falls into a frown. “Why would she do that?”

“The artist wanted to create an inspirational piece in support of Christianity during the time of the French Revolution, which promoted ideals such as secularism.” You smile as Sangyeon nods his head, listening though you can tell he is still trying to understand. “While it doesn’t have that effect for me, I have always been really drawn to this painting because of its tragedy. Maybe it's the hopeless romantic in me.”

“But she’s dead.” 

Laughing, you try to explain yourself further. “True, but look at how he clings to her. It’s his final goodbye. His last chance to touch her, feel her, look at her. I hope to be loved and missed like that one day.” You drop your hands to your sides and Sangyeon mirrors you. His fingers brush yours and you feel a current of electricity from his touch. Sangyeon feels the same energy flow through his body and he wants to take hold of your hand. You wonder if he feels the same heaviness building between you that you feel, not knowing that he’s struggling just as much as you are. Needing to break the tension, you decide to turn away and head to the exhibit upstairs. Sangyeon continues to follow behind as you both make your way to the American and African Art sections.

You catch Sangyeon looking at a few pieces by O’Keefe and Gorky, before he stops at Duet by Adolph Gottlieb. You observe him as he squints to examine the work more closely. This was the first painting that seemed to pique his interest out of everything you had seen so far. Abstract art is not something that often appeals to you compared to other genres, but you want to understand what has captured his attention. You stand beside him and nudge his shoulder gently, stirring him from his concentration. He looks over at you curiously, lifting an eyebrow.

“You seem to like the more abstract and surreal work then?” 

“What makes you say that?”

“Because you didn’t seem as interested in the European work from before.”

He holds his chin and nods in thought. “You’re right, I suppose I don’t really get paintings of people.” He turns his attention back to the piece. “It’s like looking at your dreams. As soon as you wake up you start to forget them so your mind tries to piece it back together while you try to interpret the many meanings behind it. And the end result is something like this.” He points to the Gottlieb piece in front of him. “An abstract memory.” You want to kiss him. He feels your eyes on him and faces you. The two of you get lost in each other’s gaze. You try to swallow, but feel it catch in your throat. Sangyeon looks down at your lips and wets his subconsciously. Now it was his turn to distract himself from grabbing hold of you. Sangyeon pulls his phone out of his pocket to check the time. 

“Wow, we’ve been here for 2 hours?” He places his hand on his stomach. “No wonder I'm hungry.” 

“Do you want to get a bite to eat?” 

“Sure, I think I saw a few restaurants down the road when we pulled in.”

“Okay.”

The two of you arrive at a small bistro a short walk from the museum. Once you take your seats, the server asks for your drink order. 

“I’ll have a sweet tea, please.” You smile at the server. 

“Water is fine for me.” 

“I’ll be back with your drinks. Let me know if you have any questions about the menu.” You both thank the server before turning your attention back to each other.

“Sweet tea seems to be a really popular thing here.”

“Yes, in the south it is, but the preference of how you take your tea varies per region.”

“And you like it sweet.”

“I do.” He looks out to the busy street and admires the way the city is cast in a fiery glow. While he looks at the cityscape, you admire the way the setting sun falls across his face. 

“You never told me what that gif was from.” He startles you from your staring.

“What gif?” You ask blinking. Sangyeon mimics the waving Tom Hanks gif and you giggle from his attempt. “Oh, that gif. It’s from a movie, Forrest Gump. It was popular when I was a kid.”

“Oh, that does sound familiar now.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t know that one, but you knew Wayne’s World.”

“Who doesn’t know that movie? Especially the Bohemian Rhapsody scene.” Sangyeon starts to rock his head back and forth while playing the air guitar. You laugh.

“How old are you?” 

“27. I will turn 28 soon though.” 

“Ah, that explains that then.”

“Explains what?” “You’re a lot younger than me.” You can tell he wants to ask your age so to spare him from feeling embarrassed, you answer for him. “I’m 34.” He just nods his head and you wonder if he’s intentionally keeping his reaction stoic. In truth, Sangyeon didn’t care that you were older. You could have told him you were 45 and he still would have found himself enraptured by you.

“That’s not that much older than me. Plus, in my defense. I did not grow up here.”

“Touche.” The server returns with your drinks and takes your food order. After they walk away you turn back to Sangyeon and change the subject.

“So,” you stick your straw in your tea and mix it a little. “Why are you pursuing your Masters?” 

“Really doing this for a promotion at work, if I am being honest. I hope to return back home eventually once I graduate and can land something. And yourself?” 

“Similar. I work at a smaller museum in the metro area and I’m trying to break into a space like the High or better yet, somewhere not in this state.”

“You don’t like it here?” “I don’t mind it, but I have lived here for most of my life and wouldn’t mind an excuse to escape it.” 

Sangyeon stares at your hands and reaches out to grab hold of you. You blink at him, surprised by the sudden action. He rubs his thumb over your rings. 

“I like them.”

“Oh,” You can feel your body ignite while the butterflies start to dance again. “Thanks.”

“What are they?”

“Tiger’s Eye for courage, Sunstone for motivation, and Moss Aquamarine for clarity.” You point to each ring. Still holding your hand in one, he takes his free hand and taps on the Tiger’s Eye. 

“I like this one.” He shifts his gaze to yours. “It looks like your eyes.” The server interrupts the two of you, but Sangyeon doesn’t release your hand until he is handed his plate. His attention was really getting to you so you were relieved to get a break to eat.

As you work through your meal, he notices something peeking out from where your cardigan sleeve is bunched up on your forearm. He gently shifts your arm and pulls the sleeve up more, spotting a tattoo. He traces the outline of the art and goosebumps spread across your skin. Sangyeon grins as you involuntarily close your eyes from his touch, feeling satisfied that you might be just as affected as he is. 

“It’s pretty.” You hum in response, still focused on the way his fingertips feel on your skin. Once he removes his hand you try to speak to calm the pitter patter of your heart. 

“Do you have any tattoos?”

“No, I would like some, but just never brought myself to do it.”

“Well, there’s still time. The body is a canvas.” A smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he thinks of your body being a canvas for him. 

The two of you finish your meals and walk back to the car. Sangyeon contemplates holding your hand again, but he wonders if it might be too forward.

“I had a lot of fun today.” You interrupt his anxious thoughts.

“Me too.”

“I was actually really nervous.” 

“Nervous? Why?” He asks, amused.

You shrug. “What if you had been a serial killer? Or just not very nice?”

“Well, I promise I’m not a murderer, but hopefully you think I’m nice?” Sangyeon approaches the passenger side of his car and opens the door for you. You have to duck under his arm to step inside. He lingers for a moment and once seated, you face him.

“Yes, you’re very nice, Sangyeon.” You grab hold of your seatbelt and he closes the door for you. You watch as he walks to the driver side, grinning. The car ride home is mostly quiet. It’s not an uncomfortable silence, but you can feel the air in the car grow thicker as you get closer and closer to your apartment.

Sangyeon arrives and pulls into an open parking spot near your building. You fidget with your bag and he makes no moves to rush you out.

“Thanks again for today…and for driving.”

“You’re welcome.” He lightly drums his fingers on the steering wheel thinking of something else to say.

“Well, I guess I’ll go then. Have a good night.”

“You too, Y/n.” His heart sinks as he watches you turn away to open the door, but you pause your hand on the handle. Sangyeon senses your hesitation and looks at you. You look back at him and chew your bottom lip for a moment. His fingers now tighten on the steering wheel in anticipation. 

“Do you want to come up?” He nods and you hear him unclick his seatbelt in disbelief at his lack of hesitation. You open the door and climb out of his car, meeting him on your side. The walk up to your floor feels long and neither of you say anything. You arrive at your door and grab your keys from your purse.

“This is me.” You insert the keys and enter the dark apartment while Sangyeon follows closely behind you. His body almost flush against yours. You drop your keys in a bowl and bend over to remove your boots. He slides his shoes off as well. Flipping the light on, you try to think about your game plan. You hadn’t thought much farther after inviting him up, other than wanting to feel his skin on yours. When you turn around to face him, you nearly bump into his chest. He places his hands on your shoulders to steady you and you have to take a step back to speak.

“Um, can I get you a drink?” You can hear the nerves in your voice. 

“Okay,” is all he can get out. Sangyeon was more nervous than he expected to be. His heart hasn’t stopped pounding in his ears since you invited him upstairs. Actually, since he first saw you when he picked you up earlier. The two of you head into your kitchen and you open the fridge. He leans his back against the counter behind you while you scour for something to drink.   

“Let’s see…I have water, some beer-”

“And boxed wine,” he interrupts. 

You smile and laugh. “Yes, that too.” You look to him for his choice. His eyes trail up your body before meeting your gaze to answer. 

“Just water is fine since I have to drive.” 

While you plan to grab a bottle of water, you find yourself feeling bold and reaching for two beers instead. He smirks at your defiance. You pop the tops off and hand one to him.

“Stay,” you whisper while looking down into your beer shyly. He takes hold of the drink and searches your eyes, hopeful. He watches as you wrap your lips around the bottle for a sip and can’t help himself from wondering what your mouth would feel like around him. Deciding he can no longer skirt around things, Sangyeon places the bottle down and grabs hold of you, finally bringing you in for a kiss. It takes you a moment to register what is happening before you are wrapping your arms around each other. His lips feel soft against yours. Sangyeon pulls away after a moment to look over your face. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Blushing, you laugh nervously and try to hide in his chest. He takes hold of your chin to face him again.

“Don’t. Please don’t ever hide yourself from me.” He places feather soft kisses on the apples of your cheeks to soothe you, before capturing your mouth with his again. Sangyeon pushes you into the kitchen counter and trails his lips down your neck, nipping your skin with every peck. He settles into your sensitive spot, where your neck and shoulder meet, and inhales, finally committing your smell to memory. Craving to feel him, you unbutton his shirt and drop it to the floor, revealing his beautiful sun kissed skin. You slowly brush your fingers down his toned abdomen until they meet his waistline. He flexes under your touch.

“Can I remove this?” You point to his belt and he nods as he cages you in. You remove his belt then move on to unzip his pants. Once undone you push his pants down and he steps out of them. 

“Your turn,” he whispers into your neck and your body tingles in response. He takes hold of your cardigan and pulls it up to untuck from your skirt, lifting it over your head. Sangyeon unbuttons your jean skirt and lets it fall to the ground. Next, he unclasps your bra. You watch his Adam's apple bob as he admires your breasts. His hand moves up from your waist and takes hold of your nipple between his thumb and index finger. You throw your head back at the sensation. He pulls you in to a kiss you again, pushing his tongue in between your lips. You part them to invite him in and swallow his moan. The two of you eventually have to breakaway to catch your breath. While he continues to familiarize his hands with your body, you trace a finger down the bridge of his nose, then place a chaste kiss on the tip of it. A breathy laugh escapes him at the sweet gesture.

“I want you.” Humor is suddenly replaced with hunger.

“Tell me what you want, baby. Use your words.” You could have folded at the sound of his deep voice calling you baby right then and there, but you remain strong.

“I want to feel you inside me.” He groans and moves his hand down your waist, making his way to your core. You wrap your arms around him to bring him closer to you. He slides two fingers beneath your panties, collecting your wetness as he explores your folds. You exhale into his neck at the relief of his touch.

“Baby, you’re so wet,” he whispers into your ear.

“Mmm, for you. Only for you.” He removes his fingers and settles his hands on the back of your thighs.

“Let’s take this to your bedroom, yeah?” You nod eagerly and place your lips back on his. He lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist. He walks you to the bed and gently lays you down before standing to admire you. Sangyeon looks over your exposed body and shakes his head, his breath catching in his throat. You are the most beautiful work of art he has seen today.

“I can’t believe you're real.” 

Who is this man and how is he real? You wonder. No one has ever spoken to you, looked at you the way he has tonight. He makes you feel like you might actually be beautiful, at least in his eyes. And his eyes are all the matter right now. 

He places his palms on either side of your head and leans back down for a quick kiss to your lips then starts trailing kisses down your body. He latches onto your hardened nipple swirling his tongue slowly, making you squirm. He uses his body to part your legs.

“Sangyeon, please,” you cry out. He lets out a chuckle as he continues placing kisses down your stomach. Your body tensing in pleasure from each touch. Finally reaching the waistband of your panties, he loops his fingers into the sides and pulls them off. His stare at your aroused middle makes you feel shy as you try to close your legs. He stops you. 

“Don’t hide from me, remember?” You nod and part your knees. “I can’t wait to taste how sweet you are, baby.” You whine when you feel his breath on your wet pussy. Sangyeon kitten licks your lips, teasing you and you buck into him. He wraps his hands around your legs, pinning your hips down as he presses his tongue harder into you, licking and sucking. He prods your entrance and you hiss in pleasure.

“Ahh, Sangyeon.” You comb your fingers through his hair, pushing him into you. “More.” He removes a hand from your hip and slides two fingers inside of you. “Yes, yes! Fuck!” You tighten around his digits with each thrust amazed at how close you are to coming. He curls his fingers to push against your spongy spot and you cry out. He sucks just above your entrance near his fingers while his nose rubs into your clit repeatedly. You can hear your wetness and your cries grow louder. 

“Faster, Sang. Please, baby,” you shout. Your begging nearly sends him over the edge. He grinds into your mattress for relief while he continues lapping your pussy and increasing his pace. “I’m gonna come, Sang! I want to come!”

“Let go, sweetheart.” His soft tone, while face deep in your pussy, guides you to the edge and you feel yourself release. Sangyeon licks up your juices while you come down from your orgasm. Once he’s done, you lift him off you and bring him to your lips before pushing him back again. You point to his briefs and snap them.

“Off, please!” His cock twitches at your request. Sangyeon slides his briefs down his hips freeing himself. He’s so hard and sensitive that the cold air elicits a moan from him. You watch him close his eyes from pleasure and you can feel your arousal grow again. You take hold of him and softly stroke him up and down, feeling the weight and warmth of his cock. His whole body shudders. You scoot closer to him and wrap your lips around his tip to suckle. Before you can put more of him into your mouth, he pulls you off making you pout.

“Baby, I don’t think I will last if you keep that up and right now all I want to do is feel you coming on my cock.” He pushes you back down onto the mattress. Sangyeon slips his tip through your folds for lubrication then aligns himself with your entrance. As he pushes in, you both release a moan at the feeling of him stretching you. His eyes roll to the back of his head at the feeling of you sucking him in and you think this might be the hottest thing you've ever seen in your 34 years. 

“You feel so fucking good, Y/n.” He stills once he can't go any further trying to savor the feeling. 

“Move, Sang, please. I can’t take it anymore. I need you.” With one hand by your head, he places the other on your waist, gripping it tightly for leverage and rocks into you. He doesn’t hold back and it’s not long before your bed frame is knocking repeatedly into your wall. You wonder if you’ll get a complaint, not that you care right now.

“I’m so close to coming, baby,” he calls out breathlessly. You run your fingertips down his back, feeling every ripple of muscle while you bite into his neck. 

“Come inside me.” Sangyeon drives harder into you at the demand and you can feel his thrusts start to stutter as he approaches his high. You tighten your legs around him to push him further into you. Sangyeon lets out a whine as he finally climaxes. The feeling of his warmth filling you triggers your second orgasm. You scream out his name as the two of you slow your movements and catch your breath. He lays his entire weight onto your body and you hold him closely, stroking his hair. 

“We should probably clean up,” he says as he tries to get up. You stop him from pulling out and shush him.

“Not yet, please.” He lays his head back onto your breasts, too tired to protest. You continue to brush your fingers through his hair and he starts to doze off listening to your heartbeat. You’re not sure if you have fallen asleep or not, but Sangyeon’s raspy voice rouses you.

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?”

Sangyeon lifts himself up to face you and places a soft kiss on your forehead as he speaks. “To be honest,” Then places another kiss on the tip of your nose. “I wasn’t originally looking forward to this assignment.” Then on your cheek. “But I’m glad we got paired together.” And finally leans in for a kiss on your lips.

You smile into the kiss then meet his eyes. “Me too.”

A/N: Just a very self-indulgent one shot inspired by a dream I had recently. Listening to Daylight while thinking of Sangyeon definitely devastated me lol. Also, I just needed to get this quickly out of my head so apologies for any mistakes. Hope you like it! Graphics by @saradika-graphics!

xx