#a rough sort of detergent

[ph-cutie]

people treat you like a healthnut paranoiac when you say this but fragrances really are out of control. why does my dior concealer reek like the zolushka store. it has no reason to be doing that

[celestialprincesse]

Simon coming home to sleepy partner💤☁️

nsfw below the cut 🪽 mdni 🤍

Simon, more often than not, comes home late after getting back from deployments. seeing as after landing on home soil, they still have to mission debrief, collect and pack up their belongings and say their goodbyes, Simon is itching to get back home - back to you.

When he does, and you're all curled up in your shared bed, head resting on his pillow, one of his shirts clutched tight to your chest, sound asleep in his sweater, which had ridden up the arch of your spine to reveal thin cotton panties that have him straining at his boxers. It's when your eyes open at the sound of him dumping his bags, half lidded and lazy until you register his presence and spring up in the bed, running to meet him with tears of relief already pooling on your lower lashes. By no means does Simon Riley consider himself a needy man - in fact, quite the opposite, he's practised restraint his entire life. That said, after months away with nothing but his hand and some very private polaroids to sort himself out, he's desperate, already pushing you back until the backs of your knees are hitting the bedframe, collapsing underneath him with the thick comforter giving a whooshing exhale of air under the sudden addition of your bodyweight.

The latest deployment had been especially tough, stationed in some shithole with no cell service or access to a secure line. Soap had been fine, copping off with local women when he grew bored of his hand, Gaz had Simon fully convinced that he had some kind of erectile dysfunction with how long he could go with no contact, whilst Price and Simon had to settle with a few grainy photos of their partners and the thought that they'd soon be home.

Now, when he noses at your neck and smells sweet perfume and your laundry detergent, it feels very much like a wet dream coming true. He doesn't even bother to fully take your panties off before he's thumbing at your clit through the flimsy material, stripping himself of his gear with one hand. He quickly grows frustrated with the way his dick is straining at the fly of his pants, grunting as he pulls his hand away to strip his clothes off, whilst you take the opportunity to lose your panties, throwing them vaguely in the direction of the hamper , parting your legs and bending them at the knee, waiting for him with your bottom lip chewed anxiously between your teeth. He doesn't even bother kicking his clothes away, kneeling on where they're piled up at the side of the bed as he grabs your hips with hands that have forgotten to be gentle after being rough for so long, pulls you to the edge of the bed, hooking his forearms under your thighs and splaying his hands over your stomach as he noses at your clit. There's a feral, barely concealed glint in his eye as he whispers kisses against your cunt, murmuring how bad he missed you, about how you look more beautiful than when he left. "Missed y' so fuckin' much baby. Missed your angel face." He growls into your skin, the tears mixing in your eyes split between need and pure relief.

He doesn't even bother with his fingers as he licks a hot stripe between your folds, your hips twitching under his hands as he savours you like a last meal. "Si.." You whine out sweetly, voice whiny and utterly pathetic. "Tha's right. Tha's it, gonna let me hear ya?" His Mancunian accent, eroded around the edges from years of travel, and the rumble of his voice have you on edge, hands gripping into the sheets as you let your eyes fall back into your head swimming with utter bliss. "Mmhm!"

Not even a minute later, Simon looks utterly perplexed as you try and shimmy yourself away from his tongue, despite the way your thighs are clamped like a vice around his ears. "Wha's wrong baby?" He growls, messy brows furrowed in concern as he looks up at you in the near darkness of your bedroom. "Jus' need you, Si." You whine, body short circuiting as you consciously attempt to free his face from between your legs whilst the animal side of your brain compels you to keep him there and continue the ecstasy his tongue spearing into you provides. Your needy words cause his expression to perk up as he gently guides your knees outwards so he can actually remove his face from where it's stuffed between your thighs and cunt.

From your position on the bed, and his kneeling beside it, you'd been unable to see the way his cock was already hard and leaking, bouncing against his stomach, but as he pushes you back to the centre of the mattress, you got a full view of his pretty dick as he lines the pearly tip against your entrance, smearing precum against it as though to make the stretch easier (which is a total placebo). His fingers loop through yours as he notches his tip inside, refusing to blink as you take him to the hilt with a quiet whine, lashes fluttering against your cheeks as you fight the urge to squeeze your eyes shut. "Fuck, 've missed seein' you take me so well." the sound of his grunts and the lewd squelch which accompanies his thrusts is the only thing besides your airy moans and his soft growls filling your blissful bedroom.

The sight of you alone has him almost embarrassingly close to finishing inside of you, but when your pussy flutters around him and you give a choked off keen before cumming around his cock, he gives up on any restraint, snapping his hips so that his tip hits your cervix, ropes of hot cum spilling into your tight heat as he lets his head fall into the crook of your neck, repeating how perfect you are, how much he loves you and missed you.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅

Meant for this to be some cutie, fluffy little brainrot not 1k of smut Sorry! (not sorry!😚) also this isn't edited because rereading my own writing makes me cringe so apologies 4 any mistakes 🩷

[periprose]

Logan’s reaction when you wear one of his shirts!

ahhhh anon the imagery that popped into my head with this one... thank you for requesting it <3 maybe a slight warning but Logan calls reader kid, (she's an adult) because he's obviously older than everyone. also smutty implications lol

/

"Kid. Is that my shirt?" Logan is not sure if he's just half-drunk already (it's nearly impossible for him to get drunk as it is on just a few beers) and you're wearing a big, oversized, Calgary Flames jersey.

He's fairly sure that's not yours- he doesn't think you know any Canadian hockey teams, not like that, and the jersey is definitely dated. Logan thinks he got that when the team was early in it's existence.

"Uhhh..." You turn from your spot in front of the kitchen fridge. The X-Mansion is out of milk and creamer, unfortunately. "Maybe? Sorry."

It's not your shirt that bothers Logan, not exactly. From this spot at the kitchen counter- he's leaning over, but he almost has the full view of your legs, because the shirt only meets the beginning parts of your thighs, and he wonders why on earth you have to be so annoyingly delectable. When Logan is trying his best to be professional, a proper X-Men member, you have to go and be half-naked, no pants, just luscious, sweet legs all taut and smooth as you reach upwards to scan through the upper shelf of the fridge.

You're too much for him, he thinks. If Logan was a slightly better person, he might not be having these thoughts at all, let alone considering acting on them- but he thinks about sneaking up behind you and grabbing, squeezing your ass, the back of your thighs.

"I think our laundry got mixed up like a week ago." You try your best to excuse it. Honestly, though? You were happy to steal Logan's jersey.

It's nice and comfy, and the material has worn away into a soft, loose shirt. Best of all, it smells just like him, after years of wearing it- a slight laundry detergent smell is there, but you mostly catch the smell of pine wood, mixed with cigar smoke and maybe something musky.

You didn't expect him to be down here- you didn't want Logan to know your terrible secret.

"And? You just decided you'd keep it, huh?" Logan grumbles, but he's mostly joking. His eyes are soft.

"I didn't-" You turn to him again, and you cross your arms, and it's with a little start that Logan realizes you're not wearing a bra. You're completely naked under there, other than your panties, and he gets a rush of exhilaration thinking about taking them off slowly, with his rough, callused fingers juxtaposed against your supple, soft hips. Gently squeezing your breasts as if he owns them.

There's something hot about it, Logan thinks. You wearing his shirt. As if he loaned it to you. As if he kind of owns you, as if he's your boyfriend. He can't help but feel a deep sense of pleasure. It's not as if all his hook ups and one night stands were clamoring to be his, and it's with fondness that he looks at you again.

"I thought I could give it back to you. After I wore it for a bit." You admit, and Logan has a slight smile.

"Keep it." Logan has a twinkle in his eye, his eyes glancing up and down your figure as he smirks. "It suits you, no pants and all."

He's not really joking about that- it looks way better on you, and to Logan's perverted mind, it is fascinating how this jersey he fills out so well, had a completely different style as it falls on you. It sort of drowns you- leaves your figure to the imagination- but there's just enough that he can see how it skims over your curves, making it easier for him to imagine running his hands over you. Logan thinks about lifting it up from the bottom hem, exposing you.

You turn red, almost forgetting that your legs are bare, and you don't know how to respond to that.

"Really?" You shake your head, ignoring Logan's compliment, knowing that he's just teasing. "Thanks, Logan. It honestly helps me sleep better."

You didn't mean to say that last part- you're not trying to expose the year long crush you've had on the guy- and you stutter over your words, trying not to reveal the comfort you feel around him.

You shut the fridge, and try to leave, but Logan is a little faster, and he's got you right where he wants. Against the fridge. Looking up at him, sweet, meek, just as cute as he remembers.

He leans over you. "Well, I could help you sleep better. If you want."

"Really?" You look up at him, tilting your head a little. "I thought you would think I was just some creep and tell me to fuck off."

"Oh, kid. You think you're the only one who can't stop thinking about us?" Logan swallows. "I think I've liked you since you had to help me figure out the teaching schedule, remember?"

"Who could forget? You were really struggling- your class started an hour late." You joke, and Logan grins. He's not usually such a smiley guy, and it's not something you take light-heartedly. You know he must trust you.

"Offer's still on the table." Logan murmurs, as he traces the collar of his jersey, against your neck and collarbones, and you shiver as he leans in, pressing a kiss on your forehead. It's warm, soft, inviting- but you think Logan must be holding himself back.

"Okay." You whisper up at him, and Logan, being as devious as he is, immediately grasps your waist, your ass, your thighs, squeezing, wanting to feel every bit of flesh, and he feels a deep rumble in his chest- something possessive as he leans in and kisses you, something firm and rough as he feels his shirt around you- and Logan's mouth slots against your own quite easily, open-mouthed, rough kisses that have you shuddering, as he lifts you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and pinning you against the fridge.

You know Logan didn't mean sleeping. He meant putting you to sleep, by sleeping with you, and this silly double meaning, the idea of getting to do all that and then cuddle and sleep by his side, it makes you smile against his mouth.

Logan doesn't stop kissing you as he lifts you up and away, you still wrapped around him, towards his room, feeling an immense amount of slick, lustful pride that he's bringing back his shirt and his girl there.

[coryosbaby]

Sleepy

Fandom: “Saw”

Pairing: Dom! Mark Hoffman x bimbo! Reader

Synopsis: On Friday nights, Mark comes to your apartment.

Cw: established relationship, age gap, nsfw . Rough sex, spanking, oral (m recieving), anal fingering (f recieving), creampie, cum play, breeding

It starts innocent— Mark, your beautiful and slightly sadistic hard working boyfriend, slides under your ruffled pink sheets. Although you haven’t moved in with each other quite yet, it’s not uncommon for the man to let himself inside your apartment on friday evenings. Cool air against the bare skin of your ankles gives way to Mark’s warm touch, his big hands wrapping around your calves, stroking the soft muscle there. Your eyes flutter at the sensation. You had fallen asleep waiting up for him, but you could recognize his touch even in slumber.

“Mark?” You murmur. Your sleepy eyes look up at him with a doe expression, and Mark thinks you’re completely gorgeous like this.

“Mhm.”

You lift yourself up, smiling as you wrap your arms around his neck. His smell— cologne, laundry detergent, a scent of something herbal— invades your senses. You breathe it in gratefully, thankful that Mark has come home safe and unharmed. Fingers in his hair, you pull him on top of you. A small chuckle emits from the man’s chest, his hand going down to your waist and his other wrapping around your neck in a sort of non threatening chokehold. His thumb brushes against your bottom lip. You nick at it teasingly with the tip of your tongue.

“Missed you so much, sweetheart.” Mark coos. You push up against him, the pink two piece pajama set adorning your body rubbing against the fabric of his pants. He lets out a little breath when your hand moves against the outline of his cock.

“Missed you, daddy.”

“You talkin’ to me?” He says, as his fingers dip into the waistband of your juicy couture shorts. “Or are you talkin’ to my dick?”

“Both.”

His fingers rub up against your slit, the wetness seeping through your pretty pink thong. At the feeling of the fabric touching his fingertips Marks out a growl.

“Were you waiting up for me?”

A nod. And then, spilling roughly from his lips, “Naughty fucking girl.”

His mouth crashes to yours, hot and heavy and aching with lust. It’s been only a few days since he’s saw you, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to pummel your guts like it’s been a year.

Your tongue slips into his mouth eagerly, feeling up the whites of his teeth. His fingers rub harsh circles into your clit and your hands go to the sleeves of his work suit.

“Off,” you whine to him. “Want all your clothes off.”

“I know, honey, I know.” he chants, as you thrust against the hardening bulge in between his legs. He slips off his coat, then begins to undo his tie. His chest is exposed to you as he unbuttons his shirt. Beautiful and muscled, with a bit of softness along the bottom of his tummy, he’s the most perfect man you’ve ever seen.

You bring yourself up to kiss his chest— then his shoulders, his pecks, grazing along his nipples and nibbling softly, making him let out a heavy groan. Then you move down to his lower belly and nuzzle your face into the skin there.

“Enjoying yourself?” Mark muses, as you wrap your arms around his waist. You’ve missed him so much.

“Yes, daddy,” you reply sweetly. You toy with his belt for a moment, rubbing your thumbs against the buckle. “Wanna suck you…”

“Get to it then, angel.”

Hands grasping the leather, you pull it from the loops. His pants button comes undone next, and then the zipper. The tight black briefs are now the only thing keeping you from your most prized possession.

You lean down and nuzzle your face against him again, only now on his thighs. He’s so hard, practically throbbing as he watches your eyelashes flutter shut and your mouth run over his aching, clothed shaft. Drool practically leaks out of the corners of your mouth as you taste him through the fabric. You look up to see Mark’s bottom lip caught between his teeth, his eyes looking down at you with a predatory stare.

Your fingers grip his waistband. You pull it down until his aching prick springs free, slapping against his stomach and dripping with arousal. You take his tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it. He groans, heavy, balls clenching up. He has so much cum to give your sweet cunt.

“Good girl, baby,” he praises, when you sink your lips down to his base. You choke a bit, but that doesn’t stop you from going so far down that the dark hair at his base is used as a pillow for your nose and lips. He always asks if it bothers you, and it doesn’t. Quite the contrary, in fact. You breathe him in and something deep and primal stabs into your guts— much like his girthy length. You move up and down, up and down, making sure to palm what you can’t take in your small hands, making sure to make the man you practically devote yourself to feel the best he can possibly feel.

And by the sounds he’s making, you seem to be doing a good job. Grunts, groans, and the occasional whimper escape from Mark’s plump lips, his head throwing itself back in ecstasy.

You can tell he’s close by the way his thighs begin to shake and quiver. You pull off of him, quick to leave one more little kiss to his cock before kissing him harshly on the mouth once again. He groans into you, grabbing your hair with a harsh grip. He turns your body over and pulls your ass up to him. Too impatient, he decides to just pull your shorts down and push your panties to the side. He slaps his cock against your clit, once, twice, making you mewl.

“Whose pussy is this?” He asks gruffly. You cry out, cunt trying to suck the tip of him as it runs along your seam.

“Yours, daddy,” you whimper. “It’s all yours. Fuck it, please, need your fat cock so bad, daddy…”

Mark lets out an animalistic noise, slowly but heavily sliding himself inside your tight snatch. It’s always hard for you to take him, his cock being so large and all, but your arousal lubricates him perfectly. And when he looks down it takes everything in him not to tear you open right then and there. Your cute little cunt, all spread out on his big dick, pussy lips wrapped tightly around him, clit bulging and throbbing.

“You’re a dream,” Mark growls. You clench around him, his voice and smell making your brain hazy. “A goddamn dream— fuck, you little slut.”

He begins to fuck into you, holding your thong to the side and watching the way your behind jiggles with every thrust. Hitting his thighs over and over, he’s hypnotized by the fat of your ass. The creamy sounds of your pussy, along with smacking sounds, is quite loud throughout the room. Mark grabs your hair and yanks you up so your back arches more. Squealing, you grab his hands in an attempt to loosen his grip. But knowing how brash the man can be, you know he won’t let up anytime soon.

“Just like that,” he grunts against the shell of your ear. “Daddy’s little girl is so pretty, isn’t she? Couldn’t wait for his cock to fill you up, huh? Couldn’t wait for his load all in your guts?”

You try to nod, but all that comes out is a desperate and loud moan.

“It’s so good! Yes, need it harder, need more..” you cry. Mark chuckles, dark— he knows exactly what you’re asking for. His hand comes down to your ass, and he gives it a light smack as if to tease what’s about to come. You grind back, trying to get his hands back on you again. “Please daddy!”

He slows. Brings his hand up. It comes down hard— as if all his frustrations and anger come out into one particular spank. You cry out desperately, but your pussy quakes. Fuck, it feels good to be hit by him. And when it comes down again, and again, and again, your orgasm draws even more closer. He begins to pound you like you’re a worthless sex doll used for his own pleasure. He pounds you like you’re a desperate whore who’s on her deathbed for some cock— and in a way, you are. It’s not long before his strong hands are ripping the shorts and panties away from you. How he has the strength to cause such a rip in the fabric, you don’t know. He presses your back against his chest and rips your tank top down your chest. Your tits are exposed, nipples puffy and swollen.

“Slutty fuckin’ tits,” he huffs out, tweaking a nipple in between his fingers. Your eyes roll back, and he smacks the pebbled buds harshly. “Slutty little cunt… slutty little ass—“

His thumb plays with your puckered hole, and you gasp when he spits down into the seam of your ass. Lubricating it, he slides his thumb in. The burn of the stretch hurts but it’s not unbearable.

“Yeah, dirty bitch,” Mark’s gasping, hot, bringing his lips to yours and clashing the both of your teeth together. “Love having that little asshole played with…god, I’m gonna cum, baby.”

You nod, pushing back, clenching.

“Give it to me, daddy! Fill my hole up with your cum, it needs you, needs your fucking cum—“

And with a ferocious yell and one last thrust, he spills balls deep inside your pussy. Fucking himself through his orgasm, his cum seeps out the edges of your dripping seam. His fingers come down to your clit, his thrusts weak and his cock overstimulated, but he’s desperate to make you cum. A few circles rubbing into your swollen button is all it takes for you to scream and finally hit your peak. Your vision goes white, your ears ringing, and you swear your body dies and goes to heaven for a moment.

Warm and filled and used, you rest there for a moment with Mark. Just basking in the afterglow, in the feeling of him inside you. After a while, he speaks.

“You okay?” He asks. You nod, a dazed smile forming on your lips.

“Never better.”

He pulls out of you slowly. Watching his cum gush out of you and run down your legs almost makes him hard again, and he presses a finger into the puddle of creamy spend dripping out of you.

“Push it all out.” He states, dark. “Let me fucking see it.”

You do, making sure to let all of it drip out as much as you can. He came a lot, and your pussy is practically overflowing with his seed. You scoop up some with your finger, licking it all up and looking behind at your boyfriend with glazed eyes. He watches, hypnotized by your lips wrapping around the white substance.

“That’s my girl.” He says. “My good little girl.”

And you know you are.

[oracle-of-dream]

Could you write a dom! top! taehyun x dom! bot! male reader where althought the reader tries to fight for dominance he ends loosing and getting roughly tamed by taehyun as a punishment? A setting where taehyun is back sweating from his gym session would probably make the plot even better!

We're Even

Minors DNI

Summary: Taehyun is irresistible and doesn't even know how it affects you as he walks around half-naked. You end up mixing with some of his clothes mixed in with your laundry, and he catches you closely "examining" them.

Warnings: Male Reader, Gym ray Taehyun, Blowjob, Forced Deepthroat, Gagging, Creampie, Rough Sex, Overstimulation, Light Biting, Underwear Stealing, Olfactophilia (Smelling Kink)

Wordcount: 2.3k

There was a soft knock at your door that woke you up from your nap. "Come in," you groaned as you rubbed your eyes.

The door opened to reveal Taehyun, hair dripping, pecs soaked, and half naked with a towel around his waist. "Hey, y/n, I'm gonna head out soon. Did you want me to get you anything?"

You tried to look at him, but there was nowhere that was respectful. His muscular arms, beautiful chest, and happy trail led downward toward the towel where you could make out a bulge between the folds of fabric. "Um, I can't think of anything right now, I'll text if I think of something." Taehyun nodded as he left, pulling the door closed. You wished you'd snapped a picture to look at him again. You were rock hard already with just a quick look at him. You'd been living with Taehyun for almost a year now. You thought he was cute when you met him, but as soon as he got comfortable around you he was fine showing you how much of a man he was. Flaunting his body as he watched TV shirtless, flexing in the mirror with the bathroom door open, what killed you most of all was when he would touch you. When he touched you, he was so gentle like he was scared to hurt you.

You were snapped out of your daydreaming as Taehyun's voice was at your door again. "I'm gonna go to the gym, I'll be back later. Don't forget about your clothes in the dryer, I want to wash my clothes when I get back." You heard the front door open and close behind Taehyun, leaving you alone in your shared space.

Sitting in your room, lying on the bed, you groaned as you rolled off the bed and shuffled into the laundry room. It was better to get it out of the way now. The room was warm from the dryer, which finished its cycle. You placed your basket at the mouth of the dryer and opened it, letting the warm bundle fall. After emptying the dryer, shifting the ones in the washer into the dryer, and bringing your dry clothes into your room, you spilled your basket onto your bed to start folding and hanging them up. While sorting, you noticed a pair of underwear and a muscle shirt. all of which weren't yours. They must be Taehyun's, somehow getting mixed in with your clothes. You picked them up to take them to his room, catching a whiff of his scent.

It smelled light, clean, and maybe a hint of lavender. Taehyun's detergent that he liked... You looked at the clothes in your hand again, and the urge to bring them closer to your face took over. Your nose met the fabric as you breathed in, smelling your roommate's scent. You're not a bad person. Your roommate, Taehyun, must've forgotten to take his stuff out and you mixed his clothes with yours. He was out at the gym for at least another two hours. Why did that matter? You threw the clothes onto the bed but instantly wanted to smell them again. It would be okay. Just one more, then put the clothes back. He wouldn't even know... You steeled yourself as you lay on your bed, holding his clothes to your face as you breathed Taehyun. Your cock was harder than before, probably leaking at this point, thinking about Taehyun. Thinking about if Taehyun were in your arms, holding you.

Your body moved on its own, sliding your pants down enough for your cock to slip free. Slowly, stroking yourself as you sniffed your roommate's clothes. You felt filthy, gross, and ashamed. It was amazing, tingly, and so good. You wrapped Taehyun's shirt around your hand as you jerk yourself off with it, and smelled his underwear.

His smell was intoxicating. You needed more...

You hid his clothes in your drawer, folded neatly under your clothes. Then you crept into Taehyun's room, opening his closet and digging into his dirty clothes. These clothes were better, and the smell was heavier. His sweat–a heavy musk stuck to his clothes, the strongest on his gym clothes. You stole the clothes, ran back to your room, and closed your door behind you. The material of his shirt was so soft, and the smell of his used underwear made your eyes roll. You fisted your cock so fast it burned slightly, but it was all so amazing! It was so amazing that you couldn't hear the front door. Or footsteps. Or a soft knock at your door before it softly opened.

Taehyun walked in to see you cumming all over yourself; his shirt around your cock, his underwear shoved into your face, and your blissed-out expression that turned to fear as you noticed him.

"Tae–" You scrambled to cover yourself, throwing his clothes behind you. "It's not what you think. I–It was just..." You gave up trying to explain as you felt the reality of the situation on you. Taehyun's expression was a mix of surprise and blankness. You couldn't tell what he was thinking but knew it wouldn't be good.

"...I," Taehyun started but shut his mouth. He turned, closed your door, and felt you sitting in your guilt.

You threw back on your clothes and ran to his room, knocking rapidly. "Taehyun, please, let's talk about this." The door opened, and Taehyun stood in the doorway with the same expression.

"What's there to talk about?"

"I want to try and talk about what you saw."

"I know what I saw. You know what you did. Let's leave it." He tried to close the door, but you pushed your way into his room. "Y/n, don't do this," Taehyun warned.

"Just let me speak! Please," Your voice wavered. Taehyun didn't want to hear you as he tried to push you back toward the door. "Tae–" You pushed against him, taking the both of you to the floor with you on top of him. The two of you wrestled for control. You don't even know what you'd do when you got him to hold still, but he had to listen. You couldn't let it sit. You managed to lift a leg around him and flip him under you, pinning his arms to the sides of his head as you sat on his lap.

"Is this what you want!?" He shouted.

You flinched. "No! I made a huge mistake, and I'm sorry! I regret doing that, I wasn't thinking straight." Your hands tightened around his wrists as he resisted you.

"That doesn't mean you didn't enjoy it, right?"

You lowered your head as he stared at you. "I did enjoy it... It smelled really good, but I know I shouldn't have done it.

"Smelled good?" His voice was full of disgust. "You wanted to smell me?"

"It was an accident at first. Our clothes got mixed up, I ended up smelling them, and it spiraled from there."

Taehyun managed to twist his leg to push you off him. He grabbed you by the hair and forced you into his armpit. "This is what you wanted?"

You instantly smelled his armpit, the smell had deodorant with an undertone of sweat. Your cock was already getting hard again, even when you tried to hold it in. "Taehyun, what are you doing!?"

"Giving you what you wanted. Since you were okay enough smelling my clothes, I'm sure you don't mind getting the smell from the source." Taehyun pushed you more, making his pit touch your nose, giving you no choice but to breathe him in. "Look at you, you're not even trying to fight back. You're hard as a rock. Sure, look sorry to me." Your tongue darted out and licked his armpit, this chemical taste of deodorant coating your tongue. The taste was horrible, but the feeling of having licked his skin made yours jump. Taehyun pushed you away from him, wiping the wetness on his underarms. "You licked me!? You're such a weirdo!"

"I–" You tried to find the words to make things less bad, but there weren't any. "I am a weirdo. I'm a freak. I'm a loser that loves your body, Taehyun." Your face burned as you spoke, "I know we can't go the way things were, so do whatever you need to. Tell me what I need to do to make things even. I'll stay out of your way, stop talking to you, even move out if you want." You were on your knees, looking up at him as you begged for a second chance.

Taehyun looked down at you with an exasperated look. "You want to be even. Fine." He started untying the drawstring on his sweatpants, pushing them down to reveal he'd been commando. His cock was hard, pointing at you angrily. "Make it even. Take care of me. Wherever I am, whenever I want." You couldn't believe your eyes or ears. Taehyun's cock was out in front of you, and you were being told to suck it? Your hesitation made Taehyun impatient as he stepped forward and pulled your hair, making you yelp. "Yes, or no? If you say Yes, we can find a way past this. No, means you can move the hell out."

You nodded quickly. "Y-Yes! I pick yes!"

Taehyun's face had a tint of pink in his tan cheeks as he looked down at you, his cock covering some of your face in the most disgustingly sexy way. "Then, start working," He commanded. You wrapped your hands around his cock, making Taehyun hiss as you stroked him. "M-More," His voice wasn't as stern, more embarrassed. He wrapped his hand around yours, moving you the way he wanted it as he looked around. He tried looking down at you, but every time he saw you looking at him–which made him too embarrassed to hold your gaze. When you started getting the strokes on your own, his hands moved to your shoulders as he held you for balance. "It's good, really good. I want your mouth too." Your mouth watered at the thought, your brain already buzzing into a cock-drunk haze. You wrapped your lips around his cock, tongue eager to explore him. His smell was strongest here, which only made you work harder. His tip was extremely sensitive, every time you sucked on it Taehyun would lose it. "No fucking teasing. Go deeper already," He commanded through gritted teeth. You were so focused that you couldn't hear him, attacking his sensitive spot as his whole body twitched and convulsed. You felt his hand clamp down on your head and force you to take him completely, making you choke. Taehyun didn't let you go, holding you there as he tried to calm down from your sudden attack. He only let you go when you tapped his thigh rapidly.

You ripped yourself off his length, coughing. "You choked me!"

"You weren't listening. If you don't listen, then you'll get punished more. So try using your head–not that it's good for anything other than being a dirty freak anyway." Taehyun pushed you onto your back, yanking at your pants until he managed to tear them away from your body. "Flip the hell over," He ordered as you heard him stroking his cock. You flipped onto your stomach, waiting for what you knew was coming next. "C-Can–Is this okay?" Taehyun's voice was back to his sweet and softer side.

You looked back to see the earlier irritation fading, he looked genuine in his question. Even when hate-fucking you, he still cared enough about you. You nodded, "I want this. And I already said I'd do this to make us even."

Taehyun smirked as he lined himself up at your hole. "Then, I don't want to hear any crying later." He pushed into you, forcing your unprepared walls apart painfully. Taehyun was kind and patient with you, waiting for you to signal it was okay to continue. When you moved your hips back into him, arching your back, Taehyun got your signal. He held himself over you as if he were doing push-ups and moved his hips forward, slamming into you. Your eyes rolled back at the sudden rush of sensation, and Taehyun didn't stop or slow down as he went to town on your body. He fucked you hard. The sound of skin slapping and your moaning sounded through the apartment. You could feel Taehyun's sweat dripping onto your back as he kept up his impossible speed. It must've been his unused stamina from skipping the gym because Taehyun fucked you like that for almost fifteen minutes without finishing.

You were crying, having finished twice already. "Please, Tae. No more..."

"Not yet, we're done when I say so," Taehyun said between breaths. His pace that he'd kept up started to slip, his rhythm was messy and his thrust focused more on power rather than speed. He was reaching his end... You bit your hand as Taehyun slammed into you, and he finally hit his first orgasm with a loud groan. "That's it, freaky boy, here's what you've been waiting on." There was so much cum, you could feel it overflowing out of your whole while Taehyun's cock filled any empty space with more. He collapsed on top of you, putting his cock as deep as possible inside you as he rested his head in the crook of your neck.

Your body was stiff, your back hurt, and your ass was definitely going to feel that for a few days. "So, we're even now?"

Taehyun chuckled. "Not by a long shot. I'll take it easy on you today, but maybe you'll be my new cardio workout for a while." You groaned at the thought as Taehyun kissed your neck comfortingly...

[dizzyjelly]

Kryptonite(18+)

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: ellie hated everyone, except you. You go out to the bar one night and some guy bothers you, she punched his ass ofc. You get into a small fight but then you guys go back to her place and things get freaky;)

Cw: fighting, drinking, smut, strap-on sucking, strap-on sex, scissoring, rough sex, degrading, praising, spanking, the tiniest bit of overstimulation

A/n: ooh this is seriously dirtyyy! 😭 sorry if I missed any content warnings but I really think that's all. Also, I've been going back to my previous fics and rereading and I just now realize I misspell so much and like forget words, so I'm sorry for all my grammar fuck ups lmao

Ellie Williams was many things, but nice was not one of them. People usually tried to steer clear of her, knowing her mood was negative more often than not. But of course, there was the occasional time when somebody made the mistake of trying to be friendly with her. It typically ended with Ellie cursing them out, or insulting them somehow. And then you'd come around, always calming her down and putting a smile on her face.

Everybody found it odd, from the minute you'd been welcomed to Jackson, Ellie was always so sweet to you. It honestly had jaw dropping, everyone was shocked to say the least. On top of that, it made no sense. I mean, some random girl comes into town and she just happened to be Ellie Williams kryptonite? Absolutely zero sense.

Nobody dared to question it though, and anytime they did Ellie had a lot to say. The main point she'd give was that it was simply 'none of their fucking business', among other things. You, yourself, found it a bit odd. You'd heard stories about Ellie from various people around town, and it was hard to believe she could be so harsh and mean. Was she really as cruel as they'd said? You'd never know, because she was nothing but kind to you.

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

After deciding to get ballsy on patrol, Ellie was sentenced to the unbearable punishment of laundry duty for a week. The only good part of it being that she got to see you, you had been a clothing designer before all this apocalypse shit happened so you knew a lot about clothing. This being the reason for your permanent work assignment staying laundry duty, you'd requested that it be permanent. Maria had no issue doing thst for you, and you were beyond thankful. You and no interest in getting yourself into any kind of danger, doing patrol or something else.

Currently, Ellie was trying to figure out what the hell she was supposed to do with the laundry detergent. She looked at the various bottles, grabbing then to read the instructions on the back. After a minute of trying to comprehend what she was meant to do, she let out a frustrated sigh before slamming the yellow bottle back in its place on the shelf.

"I could help you out, you know?" A brunette boy suggested with a sweet smile, he was younger and very clearly meant no harm.

"Fuck off" She scoffed harshly, "I don't need your help." Her tone was aggressive as she walked back over to the baskets of clothing.

She decided to sort them by color instead, that was something she was capable of. Five minutes or so passed and you came in, late. Very unusual for you, you were one of those people who was either early or on time. But late, you were never late. Ellie's face immediately lit up when she saw you, she smiled from ear to ear as she ran over to pull you in for a hug.

"Oh, hi" You laughed, wrapping your own arms around the girl, "somebody missed me." You joked.

"Shut up" She smirked at you, rolling her eyes, "why are you late? You're never late." She asked, a hint of worry in her tone.

"Um, I was just talking to Gavin, guess I got caught up." Your cheeks flushed red, Gavin was the guy you had a crush on for weeks now.

Ellie couldn't wrap her head around why, he was such a dick. Not that you'd be able to figure that out by the way he acted. He pretended to be a nice, caring guy. But he wasn't either of those things. And since he had you in a chokehold, for some unknown reason, you'd have to find that out the hard way. Ellie tried to tell you, relaying stories she'd heard from friends who'd been with him. But you were just lovesick.

"Oh, k." Her smile dropped now, and she spoke monotonly as she had no interest in why you were so busy talking with Gavin.

You furrowed your brows slightly at her sudden change in demeanor, but ultimately you ignored it. Smiling, you walked over to greet Samuel, the brunette boy who'd usually help you out with laundry.

"Good afternoon, Samuel! How are you today?" You asked, but he seemed kinda down.

He hadn't given you an answer, just shrugged, so you walked over to him and asked what was up. He motioned for you to lean in, so that he could whisper in your ear. Samuel told you about how Ellie had told him to 'fuck off.' And you let out a dramatic gasp.

"Ellie Williams! Did you tell my sweet bo Samuel to fuck off?" You asked sternly, hands on you hips as you made your way over to the girl.

She bit her lip, her cheeks flushed red as she knew she'd been caught.

"Maybe... I'm sorry!" She apologized with a frown, looking at you with pleading eyes.

"Do not talk to my sweet little helper that way, he's my friend." You scolded her just a bit more, and she nodded in understanding.

"Oh, hey could you help me with the detergent? I'm not really sure what to use." She asked you, pointing her thumb in the direction of the shelf filled with various laundry detergents.

"Yes, if you promise to be nicer to my dear friend Samuel." You raised your brows.

"Promise..." She smiled with a playful eye roll.

You proceeded to help her with the detergent, making sure she'd remember for next time. Ellie would continue her work duties, bored out of her mind as she prayed to be let back onto patrol early for good behavior. At a certain point in the day, she'd just be eyeing the clock, counting down the hours until she could finally be free from this torture. You, however, didn't mind the job one bit. It actually brought you joy, helped you to relax even. It reminded you of the days before.. everything.

Once it did fall time to clock out, Ellie was quick to rush out of the laundry area, waiting for you outside. You'd chuckle to yourself and shake your head, she was so dramatic. On your way out, you waved a goodbye to Samuel then smiled as you found Ellie leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

"Hey, wanna go to the bar?" She asked with a cheeky smile.

You sighed through your nose, hesitant as Ellie was a terrible drunk.

"Fine. But Ellie, please don't get too drunk." You asked, taking her hands in your own.

"Ok... come on." She smiled as she held your hand and walked the two of you to the bar.

Once you got there, you took seats at the bar and Ellie ordered for the both of you. Alcohol wasn't really your thing, but she seemed to know her way around it pretty well. And you trusted her, which was a good choice because when you took a sip of your drink it was absolutely delicious. After another drink and the passing of some time, Gavin had made an appearance.

You saw him and a smile spread across your face, your eyes lit up and your knees felt weak. Ellie took notice to your mood change, following your eyes to see the man himself. She rolled her eyes and let out a small groan as she rested her head in her hand. You turned back around, sipping from your drink and trying to act cool. Then, Gavin had come to sit beside you.

"Hey Y/n, how you doing?" He greeted, the sound of his voice had you giggling.

"Hi, I'm good. How are you?" You asked in return, playing with your hair a bit.

"Oh I'm doing just great. Who's your friend?" He asked, gesturing to Ellie who was now on her third drink.

You sucked in a breath through clenched teeth.

"Oh, this is-" Ellie had cut you off.

"I'm Ellie." She answered him with a harsh tone.

"Well, nice to meet ya Ellie" Gavins voice trailed off as he looked at the door, "I've gotta go." He sent a little wave your way.

You waved back with furrowed brows, then frowned as he was meeting a girl who just walked in. She was pretty, long blonde hair and a striking figure. You sighed, dropping your head down on the bar with a groan. Ellie sighed.

"What's wrong?" She asked in a soft tone, bringing a hand to rub up and down your back soothingly.

"I'm a fucking idiot." Was all you muttered, not picking your head up until a minute later.

You turned around and honestly felt like you could cry when you saw the two of then dancing together, he had his hands on her waist and pulled her unbelievably closer. She laughed as her hands wrapped around the back of his neck. You turned back to look at Ellie, the pout on your face more evident than anything.

"Oh, come on, he's an asshole anyways" Ellie rolled her eyes, glancing over at the dancing pair, then she stood and reached out a hand, "come on baby, dance with me."

You smiled, placing your hand in hers and letting out a small laugh as she pulled you to stand with her. At first, you just held hands and bounced around to some faster songs. But then about two songs later, a slower song came on. Your cheeks flushed red and you took a step back, only for Ellie to snake a hand around your waist and pull you closer.

"Ellie.. what are you doing?" You whispered as she held your waist and pulled you in tight, so that you were practically hugging.

"Dancing." She whispered in return.

You giggled and brought your arms around her shoulders, leaning in so your head rested on one of them. Ellie smiled as her eyes fell shut, your perfume greeting her kindly. You sighed as you relaxed under her touch, nobody could make you feel the way she did. Her hands found their way to your lower back, rubbing small circles onto it. You'd nuzzle your face in her neck, smiling as you brought your hands to play with her hair.

"Fuck Y/n.." Ellie groaned under her breath.

You giggled, lifting your head to meet her eyes. She looked at you like you were the only girl in the world. You looked down at your feet, then back at her. Your breath hitched as your eyes couldn't seem to focus on hers anymore, but rather on her slightly chapped lips. She had to have noticed because a smirk slowly formed on her face. Before you'd do anything you would regret, you stepped back from her. The loss of her touch left you feeling empty, but you would ignore it and just smile as you excused yourself.

"I have to use the bathroom." You simply said, and she took a seat at the bar once again as you made your way to the restroom.

You didn't actually have to go, so instead you washed your hands underneath cold water. And you splashed some on your face for good measure, you'd been getting unbelievably hot during your dance with Ellie. Once you could no longer feel your heart beating in your ears, you left the bathroom to return to Ellie. Unfortunately, there had been someone waiting for you outside.

"Hey, you know you look really good tonight." Gavin spoke smugly as he leaned against the wall.

"Yeah? Thanks." You scoffed, "shouldn't you be getting back to your date?" You spoke matter of factly, trying to push past him.

Your efforts didn't get you much of anywhere, his hand now finding a tight grip on your forearm while the other went to hold your face. You rolled your eyes with a frustrated sigh.

"Ok, come on Gavin I'm really not in the mood." You spoke coldly, willing him to just take the hint and leave you alone.

He tsked, leaning down to whisper in your ear,

"Come on angel, just let me show you a good time." You shuddered at his words, disgusted.

That was your last straw and you found the energy to shove him off of you and into the wall with a hard thud. Then, you saw Ellie turning the corner, her fists balled at her sides as her brows knitted together with anger.

"The fucks going on here?" She asked gruffly.

"Ellie, it's nothing. I'm fine." You placed a hand on her chest, trying to convince her.

Of course it didn't work because the next thing you knew you were watching as she punched Gavin so hard he'd fallen over. Her knuckles were red, and his face began to bruise.

"Ellie!" You screamed as your hands went over your mouth in shock.

Before she could get any other hits in, you'd held her by her shoulders as you dragged her outside. She yelled at the poor guy the entire time. Sending a good amount of threats his way.

"What is wrong with you!" You shouted at the girl as the two of you now stood outside in the chilly night.

"Me? He deserved it and you know it!" She'd shouted back, gesturing with her hands, something she did often when she was angry.

"Yeah maybe, but still! You can't just go around punching every guy that bothers me, I can take care of myself you know?" Your hands were on your hips.

"Oh god, this again? I can't keep having this fucking conversation with you, Y/n!" She gritted her teeth.

"What conversation? The one where I have to constantly remind you that I'm a full grown adult, and I am entirely capable of taking care of and defening myself? I mean seriously Ellie, what's the problem? Do you think that I can't take care of myself?" You asked with a frustrated sigh.

"What, no! Of course I know you can, but I just- I care about you a lot and you shouldn't have to take care of yourself. It makes me feel good to defend you, I don't know why it just does. And I'm... sorry." Sge struggled to get the apology out.

"It's ok. Let's just go home, sleep it off." Your suggestion sounded good, but Ellie stopped you with a hand on your wrist.

"Wait." You looked at her with questioning eyes, wondering what else she had to say.

Turns out, she didn't have anything to say. Instead, she had brought one hand to your waist and the other to the back of your neck. She bit her lip, her eyes flickering between your own and your lips. After a minute or so had passed, she just couldn't resist. She pulled you in and connected her lips with yours, kissing you like it was the end of the world.

"Ellie~" You whined as you parted from the kiss for a moment, immediately diving back in.

This time, you pressed your tongue to her bottom lip. And she gladly let you in, opening her mouth wide so she could taste your tongue on hers. It was something from another world, you'd felt dizzy and giddy, and there was something else too. There was this heat between your legs, it almost hurt. You whimpered into her mouth at the unfamiliar feeling.

"What's wrong baby?" She asked, her forehead resting against yours.

"I don't know, 's all achy down there." You admitted, embarrassed as you'd only dare to stare down at her shoes.

Ellie let out a sinful chuckle,

"Well, I think I could help with that." She gave you one last kiss before taking you to her house.

You stood in her living room, your hand coming to scratch the back of your neck awkwardly as she rushed upstairs to grab 'a little something special' from her room. You'd wondered what she could be grabbing, but not for long as she returned swiftly without her bottoms now and a large black strap tightened around her hips. Your eyes widened at the sight of it, and you knew you wanted it inside of you. Your mouth watered at just the thought of her fucking your brains out.

She walked over to you with a smirk, pulling you in for yet another kiss. You smiled into it, letting out small moans here and there as the taste of her tongue felt so good against your own. You'd sighed as she pulled your top off, now placing kisses along your jaw and neck. It wasn't long before she was placing feather light kisses to the top of your boobs, then palming them roughly as she watched your face contort with pleasure.

"Get on your knees." She ordered after a minute, and you were quick to oblige.

Getting down on the floor, you looked up at Ellie with lustful eyes. She grabbed a fistful of your hair, taking a step closer to you as she held her strap in the other hand. You licked your lips before chewing slightly at your bottom one.

"Open that pretty little mouth of yours for me baby." She cooed, her hand tightening in your hair as you'd opened wide.

She chuckled as she pushed her cock into your mouth, watching with nothing but joy as she shoved it as far as it could go. You'd gagged, unable to help it, then you let out a small whimper which was muffled by her large cock. She groaned at this, tugging your hair a bit, which brought a lengthy moan from your lips.

"Fuck baby, look at you being a good little slut. Taking my cock down your throat so well. Good girl." The praise she'd given you had gotten you even wetter, if that was even possible.

Ellie would continue to move your head up and down for a bit longer until she was satisfied, carefully she removed her hand from your hair and let you pull back. Your lips left her cock with a satisfying pop sound and she smiled sinfully as she pulled you to stand. She brought a hand to your chin, wiping your saliva that had dripped down your chin while you were kept busy deep-throating her.

She'd snaked her hands around you now, gripping at your ass before giving it a harsh smack that made your body jolt with pleasure and excitement. Another kiss was brought to your lips by her, but not for long as you'd pulled away quickly.

"Ellie, please." You whimpered, she only let out a small chuckle.

"Please what? Use your words baby." She kept a finger under your chin.

"Please," another moan, "fuck me. Fuck me good and hard, please I need you." You were begging shamelessly now, and she loved it.

"Well, aren't you cute. Your wish is my command, princess." She smiled as she backed you up to the couch, lying down before pulling you on top of her.

You sat straddling her for a minute, she rubbed your thighs with her hands soothingly before ridding you of both your jeans and panties in just one motion. You bit your lip as she held your hips, lifting you so the head of her strap just grazed your dripping hole. She'd continue to tease you for what felt like ages, before you just couldn't take it anymore so you'd taken it upon yourself to lower down onto her cock. You threw your head back with a loud, pornagraphic moan as you felt the burning stretch inside of you.

Ellie scoffed,

"Did I say you could do that? Eager little slut, you're gonna regret that." She groaned as you continued making the sweetest sounds as she gripped your hips harder.

She'd waste no time, immediately thrusting into you roughly and at a fast pace that had your head spinning. Occasionally, she'd bring a hand up from your hip to place a firm smack against your ass, in the same spot every time. You were sure there'd be a mark, but you didn't care because it felt so fucking good. Then, she'd angled herself just ever so slightly differently and began to hit a spot that you didn't even know existed.

"Oh, oh god! Fuck yes, right there Ellie. Fuckk." You moaned as you called out her name, your hands finding their way to her chest as you began to grind your hips down against her.

"Oh yeah, you like that slut?" She asked, using the rather vulgar name that only got you hotter.

You nodded, feeling as if your vision went hot white at the pleasure you were feeling. It was so phenomenal, you almost thought you mightve been dreaming. But then, she stopped and held your hips tightly so you couldn't move an inch.

"Fucking answer me." She commanded.

"Yes yes. Yes I love it. Please keep going. Please." You whimpered, tears welling in your eyes.

"That's my girl." She smiled as she resumed her rough thrusts, loosening her grip on your hips so you could rut against her as well.

She bit back a moan as the strap had been hitting against her clit just right, that and the sight of you was more than enough to make her cum. The way your tits bounced underneath your scarlet red lace bra, and how beautiful your face looked as you moaned loudly. And oh the way you said her name was just so fucking sexy.

"Ellie- I'm gonna" your breath hitched with a gasp, "fuck 'm gonna cum." your moans got even louder somehow.

"Me too baby, come on cum with me. Come on baby." She'd finally let out a small moan and that sent you over the edge.

However you didn't just cum, you were gushing all over her beautifully long strap as well as her thighs. Ellie moaned louder at the sight of you squirting all over her cock, and then got her own release. She didn't stop pounding into you as she rode out her own high, and it didn't take long before you were feeling overstimulated. But you'd do anything to watch as her eyes squeezed shut with the pleasure of her orgasm.

"Mmn- fuck." She let out a small groan as she removed her cock from your hole, a small string of your slick connecting it still.

You let out a small sigh of exhaustion as you layed against her chest, smiling as her hands came to rub up and down your back. You lied there together for a minute or so before she finally spoke.

"Let's go to my room." She whispered, and you didn't say anything in return.

You'd just followed her upstairs and watched as she removed her strap, sitting on the bed and patting the spot next to her. You joined her and sat with your back against the headboard, leaning forward as she came to kiss you. You'd pulled at her shirt and giggled a bit as she ripped it off, revealing her black sports bra. Then, she'd used one hand to spread your legs before getting into position.

One of her legs straddled your hip, a hand on your shoulder and the other on your waist. Her eyes fell shut as she let out an airy moan when she'd ground her throbbing clit against your own, and you'd let out a similar sound.

"Fuck, baby. Your pussy feels so good against mine." She bit her lip, letting out more moans as she thrusted against you.

Sure, the way Ellie had pounded into you earlier was amazing and beyond pleasurable. But there was just something so euphoric about her sopping wet pussy gliding against your own. The feeling of your slicks mixing together just drove you insane. Apparently it had the same effect on Ellie because she was louder than ever, moaning and whimpering with great pleasure.

Your breath quickened as you felt yourself getting close again, and began to move your own hips against her as well. This made Ellie let out a guttural groan.

"Oh yeah, just like that baby." She said in an almost whisper, her eyes falling shut with pleasure.

And with a few more thrusts, the both of you reached yet another release. Now you weren't the only one making noise, Ellie was moaning while also letting out "thank you's and 'fuck's. After fully riding out your highs, Ellie lied down next to you. She brought a hand to wipe her forehead, it dribbled with sweat and her hair stuck to it a bit.

You felt your eyes vetting heavy, snuggling against Ellies side as you let them fall shut. She'd hold you for a minute before standing up.

"Don't fall asleep yet, baby. I wanna get you cleaned up first." She placed a kiss to your forehead, going to the bathroom then returning with a wet rag.

She wiped you down gently, placing soft kisses along your body on the way. Once she finished that, she'd given you a t-shirt of hers to wear to sleep. She climbed back into bed, pulling you to lay on her chest. You snuggled your head into the crook of her neck, bringing your hands to wrap around her shoulders.

"Goodnight Els." You said sleepily.

"Goodnight baby." She responded with a kiss on top of your head.

[moonsaver]

Hello! I don’t know if you write for Aventurine so feel free to ignore this!!! But just, imagine, gifting him home made chocolates/sweets and imagine just how moved he will be. From what we got in the 2.0 story, he would probably be so touched. Would he possible be more clingy? Would he be the type to be distanced-? I feel like he would love the holiday in theory but maybe be very flustered if someone was to approach him qvq

Hello anon, yes i do write for aventurine! Ive written for yandere Aventurine before.. although I can't say I know a whole lot about him, I definitely write for him.

--

Aventurine seems like the type who's constantly hiding how desperately and miserably clingy he is behind some suave, cool and sly mask he's constantly putting on, and it's not really his fault either, considering the implications of what beng a signoian or whatever could be, along with the fact the mark on his neck seems like it spells "SLAVE". And you know how rough of a life that is.

So getting something gifted to him is usually a two-faced event, like a double edged knife. Originally, he's suspicious, so please don't feel offended. He's all about risks and there's a lot of things he needs to take into account, especially when it comes to romance and getting gifted homemade chocolate and sweets of all things. He accepts it graciously but stays distant from you for a while, taking his time to decide whether it's a risk he really wants to take. He practically disappears from your sights for the next few days, long after Valentine's is over. But don't worry,he returns.

And he returns fabulously. His smile is so vibrant you'd think someone polished his teeth with lemon and detergent. He's extra friendly with you, slinging an arm around your shoulders, flirting, offering to take you out, and all sorts of things. And before you know it – you've been dragged far far away from where you actually were, into some or the other plaza or shopping centre, as he drags you around everywhere. Almost talks your ear off about how great the chocolates were, and his tone may suggest that he's being sarcastic, but he isn't. He does genuinely appreciate the effort.

He doesn't quite spoil you per se, but he buys what he thinks looks good on you. It's his way of showing you he's quite intrigued by you, and wants to take the gamble.

Unfortunately, he still can't help but stay on guard, and stays that way until a few more gifts later. Please be patient with him. His vibrant smile and teasing words may make you think he's alright, but he still harbors suspicion for a while later. But once he's practically confirmed both of you are in a relationship, and that he does really like you, you'll be begging someone to peel him off of you. In a good way, of course.

[ghoularaki]

baby's breath | 15

↠  summary: Merely by coincidence, Erwin, your father's former friend had crossed paths with you again after nearly a decade. He offered solace once finding out you were struggling with not just school, but your home life as well. His home he shared with another one of your father's friends, Levi, became a sanctuary. Though, the more you came over for study sessions, the more they wiggled themselves into your private life. And like baby's breath, they weeded themselves in so deep you couldn't uproot them.

↠ word count: 2,694

↠ pairing: levi ackerman x reader x erwin smith

↠ genre/warnings: angst, smut, modern au, DARK CONTENT, yandere, daddy kink, forced infantilism, pet play, age gap, bondage, emotional manipulation, humiliation/degrading, slight mindbreak

After the incident in your cage, you don’t know how much longer you could handle this torment. Levi had been rough with cleaning you last night. His tone was mean and scathing as he scrubbed your skin raw. The same lecture dripped off his tongue. Why don’t you just obey?

He didn’t care for your babbling tears and weak apologies. He knew you would just repeat this again until they or you break. You could never do it the easy way. It just wasn’t in your nature.

So Levi decided to give you the push—he told himself it’s for your sake, but he knew his selfish reasons.

All day while Erwin had left for work, Levi had upped the ante. You could tell he had something planned. He didn’t let you forget your shame that you wet yourself for the second time you were trapped in this house.

“You’re going to make yourself useful today,” He said as he dressed you for the day.

You tilted your head in confusion and grumbled. How exactly could you help in this state?

Turning towards the hamper in the corner of the bathroom, he grabbed it and commanded you to follow. Perplexed, you shuffled behind him out the bathroom and down the hall. Turning left, he went into the corridor you didn’t explore besides to flash the light. You stared at the window, it looked so different with sunlight fluttering through it.

Going to the door to the far left beside the window, Levi hitched the basket on his hip and opened the door. Leaving it open for you, you walked inside the foreign room.

Inside, in front of you in the small room was a washer and dryer. Levi placed the basket on the counter to the right of you, cabinets hung above it. In the corner was a door, you could only assume it was a closet. By the machines was a radiator.

“Sort these by lights and darks,” He commanded.

Not really understanding what he was trying to pull, you awkwardly shuffle over to the wooden counter. With limited mobility, you scooped up the clothes and sorted them as he demanded. Across the small room he went about his business, though his eyes didn’t leave you. His gaze burned against your back.

In no time, you finished the task you were given. Pivoting on your foot, you grunted at him. He was already waiting.

He nodded his head to the cabinet above you, “Grab the laundry detergent.”

Quirking a brow, you went back to the counter. Above you the cabinets had a handle thankfully. Reaching up, you cupped the handle between your curled hands. The detergent was on the bottom most shelf. Most likely to be easily accessible to Levi. On your tippy-toes you were able to reach the gallon, but you couldn’t get a good grip.

You knew Levi wanted you to ask—well, gesture—for help. Fuck that. You weren’t going to roll over for him. Glaring at the obnoxious yellow gallon, you squeezed both hands around it the best you can and pulled.

It immediately slipped out of your hands and you clenched your eyes, ready for impact. The warmth of Levi’s chest against your back prodded your skin as he swiftly caught the detergent.

Opening your lids, you tilted your head to him. His face was blank, but you could tell the annoyance in his posture.

“That’s my bad. I forgot how idiotic you are.”

One hand clutched on the gallon, he pulled from you. His warmth left with him.

You looked down, humiliated. Levi knew exactly what to say to make you feel thoroughly degraded.

He didn’t acknowledge you while he finished the laundry. You stood there aimlessly, feeling like a stupid child. Your nose itched at wanting to cry. Not many things got to you like this, but both him and Erwin knew exactly how to dig into old, festering wounds. The silent treatment after being ripped a new one wasn’t anything unfamiliar.

Burying the spiraling thoughts and unpleasant memories, you simply waited for Levi to be done.

Finally glancing at you, he crossed his arms. “Are you competent enough to bring the basket back to the bathroom while I make lunch or is that too difficult for you, too?”

A snarl left before you could help it. He purposely made you try to get the detergent knowing full well you couldn’t properly grab it. And now he continuously rubbed in that you needed help.

Huffing, you spun around, grabbed the basket and stomped past him. His hand easily hooked above your elbow and tugged you back.

“Watch your tone.”

He jostled you when you glared. Shifting your gaze off to the side, you sighed and nodded. Getting what you were trying to convey, he let you go. Scurrying away from him, Levi popped you on the ass.

Your shoulders shot to your ears as you walked faster. The slap was light and your bum didn’t even sting, but you do not like him being so touchy especially in that way.

Rushing to the bathroom, you dropped the basket down. You sat on the toilet lid for a moment to gather your thoughts. Levi was trying his hardest to get you to break, you knew this well. As much as you didn’t want it to affect you, it did. Your resolve had already been flimsy, like a dilapidated building, from the incident in the crate.

Putting your head between your knees, you exhaled. How much longer could you handle this? Not just this particular punishment, but being confined here. Were you doomed to be broken in like a bad dog. How much longer until you became another one of Erwin’s failed strays? Trying to strategize the possibilities only made you dizzy.

Pushing yourself up, you switched your brain off and walked in the kitchen to where Levi stood.

“Took you long enough.”

You shrugged at his jab. Levi’s cheek twitched at your monotone response.

The table had already been set with sandwiches. You stared at the food blankly. There was no way you could eat without help or else you would make a mess. Levi hated messes.

“You should be grateful I’m letting you eat at the table.”

Pulling your chair out, Levi tilted the chair to face him. Sitting in your chair, you didn’t look at him as he unbuckled the belts in the muzzle and removed it from your throbbing jaw. Rolling the bone around, you tried to relieve as much pain as you could.

The gag clattered against the table top. Levi grabbed his own food and ate. You merely stared at your food, working it around in your brain on how to grab it without embarrassing yourself.

“If you need help, use your words,” He snarked, not looking at you.

Glaring up from under your brow, you didn’t comment. Going back to your sandwich, you reached out. Just as the leather almost touched it, you stopped. You didn’t want to dirty it. Levi would only call you filthy and you don’t know if you could handle it.

You weren’t filthy, you weren’t dirty, you weren’t a slob, and you most certainly weren’t incompetent.

Sliding the plate away, you sagged against the chair.

“Stop being stubborn and eat.” Levi had finished his own food.

Giving the silent treatment right back to him, you shook your head. Slipping the plate to him, he grabbed a slice, ready to feed you as he intended.

Your skin crawled at the thought of Levi hand-feeding you. That was something Erwin relished in, not him. Levi didn’t like treating you like a child, he gave you more leeway to be the adult you are.

Rapidly, you shook your head again.

“No? Then pick it up.”

The helplessness swallowed you whole. The support beam holding the last of your sanity snapped.

An earth shattering sob hiccuped from the depth of your diaphragm. The mitts covered your face as you cried and cried.

Levi blinked in surprise and instantly his hands cradled your shoulders. His palms engulfed the bones, igniting you.

“I can’t take it! I didn’t mean to, I swear. I’m sorry, I was scared! Please stop this, please,” The words tumbled out in a wicked stream. At this point, you don’t even know if you’re apologizing for trying to escape, or something else.

Pulling your hands from your face, he considered you for a moment. “What are you willing to do to be forgiven?”

“Anything! Just please stop with the muzzle and mittens. I won’t even complain about the shock collar,” You babbled, staring into his unwavering gaze.

“Prove it.”

“How?”

Levi didn’t say anything as his hand went to brush against your wet, puffy cheek. “I will think of something as we wait for Erwin to come home.”

Letting your head hang, you didn’t reply as you continued to sniffle. How weak could you be?

You winced at the slamming of the front door. Erwin was home. This did not soothe you as you curled in yourself. You were sat on the couch, waiting for him to arrive.

Levi continued to finish cleaning the house, leaving you to mope.

“Hello princess- why aren’t you wearing your gag?” Erwin cut himself off, puzzled at your lack of restraints.

You didn’t respond. Levi walked in and spoke for you, “The brat has something to say.”

“Oh?” Erwin raised a thick brow.

“I’m sorry,” You paused to gulp, “I will- um, I will do anything to earn your forgiveness.” Your own patheticness made you gag.

A smile graced Erwin as he stepped further inside. Kneeling before you, he clutched onto your hands. “Anything?”

“Anything,” You breathed.

Levi came to stand by Erwin and grabbed your jaw. Stretching your neck and turning you to him, his fingers dug into the hollows of your cheeks.

“I decided what I want. Bark for me.”

Cornered by the two men, you couldn’t process his request. His fingers pinched further in.

Swallowing your pride, you parted your lips and barked. The sound was small and unsure, you honestly sounded like a pathetic puppy begging for attention.

Levi swiped his thumb across your lip. He gave a small shutter, obviously pleased with your broken disposition.

“Got any requests, Erwin?” Levi asked and honed in on the man next to him.

“I do.”

Sliding his hand away from your face, Levi didn’t leave.

Erwin grabbed your attention, his fingers fiddled with the belts. Those deep blues bore you. “I want you to address me properly. I’m your daddy. I know how hard it is for you, so I will allow three reminders. If I need to remind you more than that, then everything goes back with no fuss. Understood?”

Biting the inside of your cheek to subdue the gag, you retreat in your head. “Understood, d-daddy.”

Shockingly a blush spread on Erwin’s cheeks as he let his head hang for a moment. A soft fuck muttered under his breath.

“That enough to get you going, you old pervert?” Levi jabbed at Erwin, amusement present on his face.

Erwin only chuckled, he wasn’t wrong.

Composing himself, Erwin flicked open the belts and one by one freed your hands. You instantly flexed your fingers, returning proper circulation to them. Free once more, you were ready to abuse it.

“Can I go to the bathroom, daddy?” The word tasted foul on your tongue, but you weren’t going to immediately land yourself gagged and bound again.

Erwin smiled, “Go ahead, pretty girl.”

Crawling away from them, you jumped off the other side of the couch and raced to the bathroom. Shutting the door, you leaned your back against it and slid down until your butt ungracefully hit the cold floor.

Staring into the room, you look into the open compartments under the sink. Curious, you crawled to the bins you haven’t seen before. Rummaging through them you didn’t find anything useful, but you did come across a pink bin filled with feminine products. Unused feminine products. A cold rock dropped to the bottom of your stomach.

You haven’t had your period in months.

Forgetting you indeed needed to go, you swung the door open and fumbled out to look out the window down the hall. You knew the weather had gotten slightly colder, but the green leaves being swallowed by orange only cemented what you thought.

You haven’t bled since being kidnapped. Your period was pretty regular, every once and a while skipping a month or two if you were stressed enough, but never this long.

Racking your hands into your hair, you gripped the strands and tugged. You were going to be sick. You needed out of here now.

The rest of the night you were on edge, deep in your head. Nothing processed in front of you. Both men noticed the spontaneous change in your demeanor. They didn’t matter as you were actively losing your mind and your cool.

You refused to believe there was a possibility you were pregnant. It would have to be Levi’s. You never wanted children, especially not his. Before you were homeless you were trying to get your tubes tied, but you ultimately couldn’t afford it.

You could tell them about this, they must have also noticed, but you were scared of the reaction. Would they force you to keep it, continue this fucked up game of house?

Shaking your head, you weren’t going to risk it. So you stayed silent, spoke only when addressed and picked at the scabs on your palms to distract yourself.

“Ready for bed?” Erwin asked softly.

“Yes, daddy.” You hated this, you hated them with every fiber of your being.

Guiding you to your room, you bared with his palm at the small of your back. Opening the crate, he didn’t need to help as you went inside yourself.

“Sweet dreams, princess.”

Laying away from him, you stared out into the room, “You too, daddy.”

Erwin lingered for a moment as if to question you, but decided against it and walked out the room.

For hours you did not move. You slowed your breathing to listen out for the men. Even when both footsteps retreated up the stairs to retire, you waited.

You counted to a thousand to ease your mind. Reaching said number, your hand grabbed your teddy and pulled the screwdriver from betwixt the cotton.

Getting up on your knees, you picked the lock with ease. You were getting good at this. Maybe when you get out of here, you can become a locksmith. You saw somewhere they made decent money.

Placing the tool down, you clambered out your cage and crept to the door. Carefully, you leaned your head out and stared down the hall for any noise. The house was bare of any sound. Satisfied, you tip-toed out.

You continued your descent down the corridor. At the arch to the kitchen and living room, you peaked your head to see no Levi having his midnight tea. You had been awake the whole time so Levi was bound to come down soon, so you had to be quick.

Shuffling to the mudroom, you crouched at the drawer and grabbed the flashlight. Leaving it slightly ajar, you went to the familiar hallway. Tonight must have been a full moon from how brightly it streamed through the window.

Sitting down, you clicked on the flashlight. The old couple must be suspicious at this point. When you came home from the hospital the elderly man had lingered, he must know something is up. Though you have no clue how long it would take before he or his wife noticed.

Absentmindedly, you signaled S.O.S. over and over. You worked it over in your head, did you have the time to waste relying on the possibility they could save you? Despite being free of the restraints, there was no way they would be careless enough again to give you an easy way back into the public.

From behind you, you heard the floorboard creak. Before you could whip around, a hand clamped on your nape.

“Care to explain what you’re doing, princess.”

[romvnova]

One : Dutton Women

trigger warning: mature and adult themes including but not limited to explicit sexual scenes and swearing. please read at your own discretion. i am not responsible for mature media consumed by anyone under age if these warnings are ignored.

“What the fuck d’you think you’re doing?” I start at the rough growl of baritone behind me, looking over my shoulder at Rip, to find him looming there like a brooding broad shouldered michelangelo statue, angrily shrugging out of the ranch issued black denim shirt he wears, revealing a soft looking black henley underneath. Though spring was upon us, there remained a chill in the air that spoke that winter wasn’t quite done with us yet.

I clutch the towel tighter ‘round my body, looking back to stare down the newest ranch hands that look away, towards the small fire they’d built; hoping that if they ignore me I’ll go away.

Shows what they know about us Dutton’s.

“I caught them peeking in the bunkhouse bathroom window. Figured if they wanted to look, then they might as well stop being fucking pussies and look!” I raise my voice so it carries and drop the towel and Rip snarls a curse behind me, grabbing my upper arm a bit roughly, yanking me back into the shadows of the bunkhouse, away from the soft sugared moonbeams.

“The fuck is wrong with you Dutton women and walking ‘round here fucking naked?” His breath is hot against my ear as he covers me with his shirt, the denim rough and scratchy against my skin.

I struggle against his grip for a moment, flinging a finger at the ranch hands. “Daddy taught me to never show weakness.”

Rip lets out a low breath that sounds like a growl and despite myself I shiver, begrudgingly shoving my arms through his shirt, holding the front together. He’s tall and the hem of his shirt hangs down to rest at my mid-thigh. It’s a baggy dress on me and I realize that I’m shivering and I hug it tighter to me, getting a whiff of a scent that is uniquely Rip’s. It smells like musk, fresh linen laundry detergent, hay, horse and a bit like whiskey.

His grip returns to my elbow this time as he bends down to pick up the towel I discarded mumbling curses under his breath. Rip balls the towel up and hands it to me roughly. “Kelsea, go put some fucking clothes on.” There is a thread of danger in his voice, pitched low and into my ear that has me shivering again; and I hear what he doesn’t say: that he would take care of it.

What the young, reckless ranch hands don’t know about their boss: he was a bruiser, an enforcer. They don’t know that he’s killed men for Daddy, for this family.

“Don’t hurt ‘em too bad, Rip.” I didn’t like what I heard in what he left unspoken, and my anger fizzles into a soft swell of fear. Sure, I was pissed at the guys for coping a peek but I didn’t want them beaten to a bloody pulp. I was perfectly fine with handling it how I’d handled it.

Rip, it seemed, did not agree.

“Go put clothes on and go wait for me in my cabin.” Is all Rip says before he lets go of my elbow.

“Rip!” I call after him as he begins to make a beeline for the young ranch hands who stand ‘round the fire, their snickers and sneers sobered up; solemn.

“Kelsea. Go.” He both warns and commands, not bothering to stop or look back.

I steel my shoulders and trudge into the bunkhouse. I toss on a pair of dark grey leggings and a oversized flannel. I grab my brush and bag of skincare and make my way to his cabin, feeling like a teenager sneaking out to meet a boy. The night air is charged with the same sort of taboo electricity. I contemplate waiting on the porch steps of the cabin for Rip but there is a chill settling into my bones and instead I open the screen door, slip inside, nudging the door shut behind me. I mechanically run my hairbrush through my tangled, wet hair, using the small bathroom mirror before I pilate it to a messy braid.

They should know better than to be peeping tom’s … but I suppose my decision to share the bunkhouse instead of my old room on the ranch’s main house had been an invitation for something like this to happen. At least, I was fairly sure that would be Rip’s argument. It’d been daddy’s.

I go through the routine of my skincare then, taking it slow. Cleanse. Serums. Moisturizer. Lip balm. In the dim light of Rip’s single bathroom light overhead, the filaments buzzing in the golden globe I stare at my reflection in the mirror. When I was a kid, I’d loved to hang out in the bunkhouse. Kayce and I would always stage sleepovers where the ranch hands would teach us poker and other card games, would let us steal sips of beer. I was more tomboy than a girly girl.

And of course, I noticed when the attention of men and boys began to change, but I’d hoped that I could pretend that men weren’t only interested in one thing from me. That I could be ‘one of the guys’ again.

I’d gambled and I’d gambled wrong; of course, stealing a peek in the bathroom while I showered had been a choice. A wrong choice. A disgusting choice. It’d been the first time since my return that I’d felt unsafe.

And even that had been temporary. Rip, with his keen eye and malinois loyalty wasn’t going to let bygones be bygones. He’d tracked us down like a blood hound and I hadn’t even been raising my voice. Not really.

I look away from my face, to see the door open after the soft thud of Rip’s heavy footfalls on the wood of the porch sounded from the other side of the door; muted. A soft creak of the screen door, and the door opens, only to slam closed as he kicks it closed behind him.

“Sit down.” Is the only greeting I get from Rip as he moves past like a storm personified. I turn off the bathroom light and take a seat on the couch, my back against the arm rest, grabbing the soft sherpa blanket draped over the back and pull it onto my lap.

I can feel the tension roll off of Rip in waves, even with my back to him.

Bottles jostle together as he rummages thru the fridge. I hear the release of pressure as he opens a beer bottle, tossing the metal cap to the counter where it clatters and then a second hiss and clatter.

His cowboy boots make dull thuds against the cowhide runner on the wooden floor. I look up as he holds a cold beer bottle to me as he passes. I take it with a quiet ‘thank you’ that I’m not even sure he hears. I take a swig of it, and then another, smaller sip, tucking my legs up to my chest as he collapses onto the couch beside me.

I stare at him for a moment, trying to suss out his mood, watching as he downs a good portion of the bottle in one swig.

“What were you thinkin’ Kels?” I choose that moment to take a long sip of my beer, hating the after taste as it lingers in the back of my throat.

“`bout which part?” I ask quietly, eyeing him as he lets out a low snort.

“All of it.” He answers me gruffly, turning his head to face me, tipping the brim of his hat up. His gaze is intense and burns into me; heat floods me and I suck in a soft breath.

I don’t answer right away, stalling instead by taking a swig of my beer. It only buys me a few seconds.

“I thought things could be like they were when I was a younger. When Kayce and I were joined at the hip and I was one of the guys.” I whisper before taking another swig. It’s almost empty now my beer, but I don’t feel anything. Not a even a small buzz.

Rip lets out a low snort and polishes off his own beer, holding his hand out for mine. I hand it to him and watch as he stands, sitting them with a dull thud in the sink before he fetches two more from his fridge. “You haven’t been one of the boys since you hit puberty, darlin’. The wranglers knew better than to touch you. Hell, they knew better than to even look at you.”

He sits back down and hands me a beer that I take gratefully. “And not just because Kayce’d have knocked anyone who looked at you sideways silly.” I shift my legs, partially tucking them under me and let out a small breath ‘round the bottle’s lip as he reaches for my knee.

“Besides the fact that you’re John Dutton’s youngest daughter, your his favorite. And there’s twenty branded men that would’ve died for you. Killed for you. And they knew that.”

I can see the peek of the yellowstone brand through the slouching collar of his henley. I look down at his hand, warm and calloused and large on my knee, the lazy trial of his thumb along my knee cap. I reach for it, grabbing his fingers as he goes to draw it back.

His knuckles are split and caked in blood.

“Jesus Rip,” I kick off the blanket and sit my beer on the coffee table.

“Don’t fuss over it —” but I’m already padding into the bathroom, rooting thru the cabinets for the first aid kit. I find it and return back to the couch. “—this ain’t nothin’.” He protests lightly but I’m already perched on the edge of the couch, pulling his hand onto my lap. “The kid’s face took the brunt of it.” Guilt twists in my stomach but I ignore it, opening the kit and start to clean his knuckles.

“Shut the fuck up, Rip.” I tell him as he grumbles.

“You’re not stayin’ in that fuckin’ bunkhouse anymore.” He tells me, breath tickling against my temple as I apply ointment to the wounds on his knuckles. “You don’t wanna stay in the main house? That’s fine. You stay here with me.” His tipping my chin up, his index finger tucked beneath my chin, his thumb toying with my bottom lip.

I look at him thru my lashes, reaching up to steal his black cowboy hat and perch it on my head, swinging my left leg over his thighs so I was straddling him. He shifts on the couch, one hand going to my thigh, the other on my waist. Rip’s thighs are thick and I’m small compared to him, so I’m perched in his lap, knees one either side of his waist.

His head bows and his breath fans across my collar bone, lips ghosting across it in a tease that makes me ache for him, has my fingers digging into his broad shoulders.

“If one of those fuckers gets his dick anywhere near you, I’ll fucking take his balls and nail ‘em to the bunkhouse wall.” I make a small hum in the back of my throat and roll my hips against his, reaching between us to undo his belt.

His hand goes to mine and grabs it, stills it where my fingers splay just under the waistband of his jeans.

“And no more walkin’ round the fucking ranch naked as the day you were born.” He tells me thickly, strain in his voice; rich and warm where it slides over me like dark whiskey.

“Don’t worry Rip, you’re the only one that can touch.” I purr against his lips. Rip was my first kiss, my first time, my first love. My first and my last. His hand on my thigh goes to cup the scruff of my neck, as if I were a pup instead of a human. I struggle between feeling insulted and finding it incredibly hot at the same time.

“I’m serious, Kels. Stop given the fucking ranch hands reasons to jerk off to you.” I am quiet, and still against him, letting my shoulders drop, my defenses down. So long as my walls were up, Rip was only going to be assertive.

“They already know I’m yours, that doesn’t appear to stop ‘em.” I whisper against the corner of his mouth when he releases his hold on me. His fingers follow the length of my spine, feather-light strokes that nearly have me keening against him. He makes a noise low in his throat, his grip on my wrist loosening, his hand covering mine, guiding my hand lower, against his semi-hard length.

His body responds to my touch and his hips buck up into my palm, against mine.

He tugs my hand out of his jeans, cradles my thighs in his grip and stands, lifting me up. His lips crash into mine, all tongue and teeth; bruising. He’s still angry then. I don’t know whether the target was his bedroom but if it was we miss it, he lifts me on the edge of his table, sending things skittering to the floor, hit cowboy hat falling off my head, toppling over as I grip him desperately with one hand, the other stabilizing me as I press my palm flat to the table.

He makes quick work of my leggings, shoving them off and discarding them to the floor. Impatiently, he gets his jeans and briefs down to his knees before he’s inside me, sinking into the hilt. I gasp against his lips, back arching as he keeps a steady pace, one hand digging into the supple flush of my thigh, the other gripping the side of the table as it rocks beneath us.

I come undone first and Rip is quick to follow, throbbing within me, against me, spilling hot seed within me. I press a kiss to his forehead, feeling each movement he makes as he remains seated within me.

He takes a heady breath, as if he has to catch it; gaze searching mine. “Marry me, Kelsea.”

It takes me a second, in post table sex bliss, for my mind to catch up to his words. When it does I let out a small giggle, and then sober up real quick when I realize he was serious. I feel a flutter in my stomach beneath the intensity of his gaze, soft as it studies me, looking at me like he was a blindman looking at the moon for the first time. It was how Rip always looked at me, even when he was burning inside from his anger at me, at my words, at my decisions.

“Jesus Rip. You ask every girl you fuck while your cock’s still inside her and your cum is still warm and wet against her thighs to marry you?” And there it was. The infamous Dutton bitchiness. I got it honestly from my mother. She wasn’t as hard on me as she’d been Beth but the fact remained; and I couldn’t quite seem to temper it down.

I shove him off and out of me and he stumbles back slightly. I wish he’d struggle a bit, look everywhere but at me. But his gaze on me remains stable. Unwavering. But god if that wasn’t Rip. Loyal and stable and unmovable; a mountain in the skin of a man.

“There’s only you, Kelsea. There’s only ever been you.” His words affect me, make heat pool low in my belly. I knew that. I’d known it since I was sixteen years old. I knew it before he even murmured that he loved me into my hair when he thought I’d fallen asleep the first night we’d been intimate and searched for constellations in the bed of his beat up old Ford Ranger.

I already had my answer, but I was going to make Rip work for it. I knew. He knew it. “I’m serious, Kelsea.” He tells me as he tucks himself back into his jeans.

“Then propose to me. Seriously. Post nut proposal isn’t serious.” I tell him over my shoulder, swiping the bottle of Jack Daniels off the counter as I go, making a beeline to his bedroom.

I turn and linger in the doorway, leaning against it, almost bare to him, my leggings discarded on the floor where he’d tossed them earlier. “Are you coming to bed?” I take a swig of the whiskey, tugging my hair down out of the bun. “I’m not done with you yet, cowboy.”

[kikiyoomis]

you thought you knew skincare. you had some pretty bad acne in middle school which led you down the rabbit hole of trying out any and every product that was said to clear your skin. you've tried all sorts of cleansers, serums, toners, moisturizers, sunscreens... you name it.

and with your hard work, your skin has been pretty clear recently in adulthood. there are a couple of bad breakouts here and there but much better in comparison to your middle school years.

your boyfriend, on the other hand, was blessed with good genes (that you are seriously envious of). he could use dish soap as a cleanser and his skin would be clearer than yours on your best days. but the way that your boyfriend is, you know he would not be putting anything like dish soap anywhere near his face.

sakusa kiyoomi has a skincare routine that has a least seven steps on a regular night and twelve steps on a "special night." hell, he knew more than you when it came to skincare and he didn't even have the desperation that you had when it came to it.

the first ever time you went over to his apartment, roughly two years into your relationship, you were shocked to see the number of products that lined his medicine cabinet.

any skincare product type you can think of, he had it. he even had at least one backup per item in that medicine cabinet, even travel sized versions. some of them you recognized when you told him your own favourites. he seemed to like it too. it appears that this was his regime that he was going to go with for the next couple of years.

"why do you look surprised?" sakusa asks you. you don't know what to say. you've always been under the impression that he was just a basic cleanser, moisturizer and sunscreen type of guy.

"i didn't expect you to have this many products," you confess, in awe that his collection somehow rivaled yours.

"it's just the basic necessities," sakusa shrugged, closing the medicine cabinet and taking your hand to lead you out of his bathroom.

"but i've seen your photos when you were in elementary school, middle school and high school. you've never had a single pimple, rough patch or anything in those!"

"i got a bit of acne when i first moved out," sakusa says. "i found out it was the new laundry detergent i was trying out that caused it. i tried anything i could get my hands on to get rid of it. luckily it didn't take long to figure it out," he continues. he sits on his bed and pats the spot next to him. you go to join him but he pulls your waist and has you sitting on his lap instead.

"now, i do it for self maintenance. it's very relaxing to do at the end of a long day," he says quietly as his arms wrap around your stomach, hugging your back as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

"well you've seen my place, i have shelves upon shelves of products all because i can't seem to get rid of these stubborn pimples," you grumble.

"first of all, i always finish off whatever i have before starting a new one. all of yours are either half empty or barely used. it really bugs me how you don't bother finishing one before starting another," sakusa interjects.

"but how am i supposed to keep using it when it makes my skin worse?" sakusa presses a kiss to your cheek.

"then throw it out. i have more than enough money to buy you whatever skincare product you want. you can have the most expensive ones on the market if that's what you want."

"you know all of those luxury products are nothing more than a cream with perfume," you smile as you give him a kiss on the lips in return.

[distilled-prose]

November third 2024 - Family Lore

Haloween is solidly past us now, but the children coming to our door this year were all so delightful. However, it's only been in the past 24 hours or so that I recalled my favorite Haloween story. Debra and I had only been married 2 years. Our oldest had not yet been born. We lived in a small ranch, three bedroom house that we were renovating ourselves. It took a good bit of our free time. But I get ditzy working on only one project continuously, so I had several side projects going on at the same time. One of these projects was to re-examine a five gallon bucket of sapphire gravel concentrate we had gotten as part of a group outing with some friends in North Carolina. We and four other couples went in together to purchase the concentrate from Montana. One of the couples was vacationing up that way and hauled it back for all of us to sort late one summer. It was a delightful little party. Nice people, sangria, Cuban picnic lunch, we all had a great time talking and laughing as we sorted our respective buckets. We all found some nice stones. I put all our rejects back in the bucket and brought it home. Debra made fun of me for being so obsessive compulsive. She couldn't imagine us having missed anything of any consequence. That fall, when we were finished with dinner and whatever house projects we had started, I would bring in a handful or two of stones from the back porch, wash them good with dish detergent, rinse them, and sit at the kitchen table sorting under bright light on a white background. I was finding only a couple of small stones every so often, all under one carat. These stones would cut out to standard shapes and sizes of 0.20 to 0.25 carats. So essentially they were accent stones. But the colors were bright and I just always enjoy finding things. Debra had quit making fun of me, but was rolling her eyes behind my back, I could tell. On Halloween night that year, as the trick or treaters grew less frequent, I brought in some stones to sort. It was probably about 8 p.m. when the doorbell rang and Debra went to answer it. As she did, I came across what turned out to be a 6 carat, very clean, blue/lavender, hexogonal sapphire crystal. I called out to Debra to come back to the kitchen when she was through. She screamed when she saw the stone. That we could have missed this stone the first time around was unbelievable to us. We took to calling it the "Haloween Sapphire". I later cut it into a 6.5 mm round brilliant. The stone actually shows a color shift from daylight to incandescent light, from a Mediterranean Sea blue to a decided lavender. Later I made a chain from 14 kt gold wire (back then gold was only about $300/oz vs almost $3000/oz now) and set the stone as a center piece, adding accent stones from that bucket of gravel and some other sapphire rough I had purchased and cut. Debra was so pleased when it was completed that she slept in it for the first two weeks. Here're some pictures:

[gentleman-detective]

This isn’t my typical content, but we’re struggling in the US. When things like this happen, there’s an increase in posts that say things like “be sure to shower and eat something nutritious!” But when I do, I often feel like I’m just ticking off boxes, fulfilling my duty as a Depressed Brain Haver to do all the things the internet tells me will make me feel better.

It’s a hard thing to explain, but simply taking a shower won’t make me feel better. So I’m finding ways to do these daily “musts” that actually improve my mindset.

How to get ready/practice personal hygiene when it’s one of those days

1. Get naked. No, get REALLY naked. If you often forget to take off your jewelry, stand in front of the mirror and take out every piercing, pull off your rings, and unclasp those tricky necklaces. We’re making a blank canvas here.

2. Warm up the shower. Get some steam going. If your shower takes a long time like mine does, brush your teeth while you’re waiting. I HATE brushing my teeth so I choose to use yummy kid’s toothpaste (which, according to my dentist, has the same benefits as adult toothpaste).

3. Wet beast Wednesday time! Make sure you’re properly soaked. Watch the water bead up and roll down your arms because your skin can’t absorb any more.

4. Shampoo your hair. I don’t care if yesterday was a shampoo day, you’re doing it again. Scratch your scalp with your nails. Make suds and then rinse them all off.

5. Condition your hair. If it’s long, be sure to really work the conditioner all the way to your ends. Thread your fingers through the strands and coat every one evenly. Isn’t it crazy that a bit of water and product can turn your hair into silk?

6. Don’t rinse it. Let it sit while you wash your body. If you don’t have one, buy some sort of exfoliating brush or gloves. I got a three pack at TJ Maxx for $3.99. Pick some that are realllyyyy rough. Add your body wash, but take time to smell it. Take a deep breath that fills lungs entirely. Scrub every part of yourself. See how much of your back you can get. Scrub the back of your neck, under your breasts, and between each toe. Hell, even spend some time scrubbing each nail.

7. Wet beast Wednesday part two.

8. Dry yourself off with a CLEAN towel. I don’t care if you only used yesterday’s towel once. Get a new one out. When you dry your face, see if you can smell your laundry detergent.

9. This might be overkill, but I like to wash my face again with a specialized cleanser. Finish off with an SPF lotion made for your face and neck.

10. Put some deodorant on your pits I swear to god I will fight you if you don’t.

11. MOISTURIZE. You’d be amazed how much having dry skin changes your mood even if you don’t notice it is dry at the moment. I use a vitamin E skin oil I got from the dollar tree and pat off the excess with a towel. And I know it sounds ridiculous, but take the time to smell each product. Take deep breaths.

12. Use some sort of body spray or perfume if you aren’t sensitive to them. I smelled each of mine before deciding I liked the way my partner’s smelled better. I think we get so wrapped up in our routine that we forget we can change the products we use just like we can change our clothes to ones that better fit our mood.

13. Put on something that makes you feel better. You’re under no obligation to choose an outfit that makes you feel “powerful” or “put together.” Today, I chose something loose fitting and easy.

14. If it’s daylight, finish drying in the sun. I know that sounds a lil crazy, but even if you just sit on a sunspot coming through the window, DO IT.

15. Put on makeup if you want. Or don’t. I didn’t today.

Okay that’s all! Hope some of this helps. <3 Even if it didn’t help, it helped me to write it out. :)))

[deathdetermineslife]

hehe... can you do a list of things to do if your f/o is a puppet/puppet-like? specifically a bjd/marionette.

- @puppeteeredheart

yea absolutely!!!!!!!!! :D

if you have any imagined home/place you live in with your f/o, make sure the area they are in stays cool and dry (and preferably away from the sun)! those things can hurt bjds!

keep neutral soaps and detergents on hand to clean the joints of your f/o! like unscented hand soap :)

look into the different kinds of materials your f/o may be made out of! most bjds are made with resin, but puppets can be made out of wood!

if your f/o has strings attached to them, look into the different types of string or thread you could help replace theirs with! what kind is their favorite?

if your f/o is made out of wood, find some wood sealants you think they may like!

watch puppy shows! it sounds silly, but, it could give you a good idea of how your f/o would move!

make your own doll of them! if you don't have the capabilities, you can always make paper dolls!

what kind of puppet do you think they made be based on? different regions have different kinds of puppet designs!

make a list of any sort of imperfections your f/o may have (assuming they were hand crafted). do they perhaps have some rough patches that could be sanded? are they sealed? do they have any bumps or ridges in the clay or plastic that was used to make them?

how articulated are they? fully articulated? partially? not at all? draw or write about what you think they would look like if they were any of the above!

if your f/o ball and socket joints are held together with elastic, is there a color they prefer? a texture? do they have mismatched elastics? if you asked and they needed an elastic replaced, would they let you draw a funky design on them? doodle up some funky designs!

do they have a favorite type of puppet? if they didn't even know other kinds of puppets existed, you should totally write or draw something showing their reaction to finding that information out!

study the history of puppetry or doll making! how do you think your f/o would react to that? would your f/o want to make a doll or puppet of their own?

I hope u like this Spamton Guy™ this one was fun I did some digging into puppetry for this

[redraspberryleaf]

You seem to know a thing or two about wool (and definitely more than I do :D )

Is it possible to use wool in normal fabrics like we use cotton today, or are those too fine to work well with wool?

Because if I could replace some of my cotton T-shirts with ones that have similar properties but are made from wool, that'd be awesome!

(also feel free to post a long ass diatribe about what wool can be used for and what not, I love that shit)

Okay so I'm by no means an expert I just have adhd and knit but the answer to your question is yes but there is a catch.

So wool has finally been having the resurgence it deserves in athletic and technical wear because it already does everything they've been trying to engineer other fabrics to do and poured a ton of money into trying to achieve with synthetics. Wool can keep you cool and keep you warm, it helps regulate temperature and humidity, some sheep produce wool that will absorb moisture off of your body into the fibre itself to wick and achieve evaporative cooling at once while some breeds like Icelandic sheep are entirely waterproof. Wool is amazing! Wool is also stretchy and antibacterial to a degree and just does really well with sweat and body odor in general so it just is a natural fit for athletics and outdoorsmanship.

Because of all this a lot of brands have started to produce wool base layers, tees, and sportswear. Smartwool is an example of a company that's gone all in on wool, but a lot of other companies have small lines of wool garments or one offs.

The problem with most of what is on the market right now is that companies want to make it as easily digestible for consumers as possible. They expect that people aren't going to shell out for the fancy wool tee shirts if the experience isn't the exact same as a cotton tee but slightly elevated. Even if caring for a garment isn't necessarily harder but is just different, generally people won't go for it. Because of this there are two issues I have with how a lot of these are produced.

1. Superwash

Most of these are going to be made with superwash yarns. The websites aren't very clear in listing that but they don't really have to be and most people don't really care about that. Unless you're a fibre artist of some sort you probably don't know or care about what that means so why would they list it?

What they do say is that their garments are machine washable and that you should lay flat to dry. That means that even though these products are listed as 100% wool there is some sort of treatment or coating to seal the scales on the wool and make it so they can survive agitation in the wash and regular detergents.

While I'm not totally against superwash in all contexts and know it has a time and a place for sure I think it's important to recognize that a lot of the properties of wool that we love are achieved BECAUSE of the scales on the wool and when you start messing with those your wool isn't going to perform as well across categories. If you're okay with superwash, then go for it. Just know that your wool isn't going to wool as hard as it could wool.

2. Merino

So merino has somehow become shorthand in recent years for luxurious soft yarn. This isn't totally wrong but it isn't totally right. Merino is probably the most popular bread of wool sheep on the planet. It's heavily used because while the fibre is still relatively cheap it is also very fine and flexible which means it's softer, won't prickle the skin, and can be spun into smaller threads. I think they're some thing like a third of the diameter of a human hair??

While all this is great, it means most of these sheep are coming from industrial farms. If animal welfare is your jam (I hope it's everyone's jam to some degree at least) this is where you're going to start worry about farming practices. Industrial scale farms, even in countries with a lot of protective laws, and where you will have sheep with massive scarring as a means to prevent infection, rough handling, and rougher shearing practices. Now I grew up in a farming area, so I know a lot of things that may seem barbaric actually make a lot of sense in practice, and my roomies family have sheep and have string opinions on which of these practices are important to keep around... but I'm not going to get into that knitty gritty (hehe knitting, get it??).

Outside of animal welfare, when you get into these types of farms shitty shearing and frequent shearing are actually a big issue for wool quality. You see, if you aren't doing a nice smooth shear in one go or are shearing the sheep frequently, you start getting a lot of fibres with shorter than typical staplelengths. While this can mean that some of these fibres are softer because they aren't spending as long being exposed to the elements and sun, it also means that the yarns that are spun up from them will be weaker and more prone to breakage.

Honestly I like merino just fine but it really is the clandestine of the yarns. It does the job and all but it's deeply overhyped by good marketing and has just become the go to because people who generally know textiles but aren't total wool nerds know it will do the job and know it will be recognizable to the consumer as a good material. There are just so many other breeds that produce fibre better suited to all kinds of specific jobs that get passed over for merino and so now passionate hobby farmers and yarn nerds are the only ones keeping all these other breeds alive.

So yea, your tee-shirt will probably still be a great and durable shirt, but the quality won't be exactly what you were dreaming of when you first heard about all the amazing things about wool.

So Yes!!! You absolutely can get wool tee shirts and they will be pretty rad, however they won't be the perfect dream shirt that you imagine when you hear a yarn nerd talk about all of the best properties of wool. I have had wool base layers in the past, and I'm planning on buying a set and a tee that will fit my body these days since I've long grown out of my old ones. Will it be perfect and the most ethical thing? No. Will it be better than something synthetic or a lot of plant based options? I personally think so, but that's for you to decide for yourself:).

[lovebitesandcrosses]

Oh my god. I had a washing machine function while so dire in clean laundry I now have ZERO underwear that isn’t completely covered in water and detergent… and I’m leaving to see family tomorrow so I have no time to sort this problem. So, uh, guess who’s about to have to walk to my boyfriend’s house with nothing but totally broken fishnets under bondage style pants… gotta stop off at the shops too. This is going to be so rough. Sorry for over sharing. 💀

[stillsolo]

SENSES & OTHER SPECIFIC HEADCANONS.

MUSE: han ‘jonash e.’ solo although i normally like to separate my headcanons by verses (modern/sw), i think i’ll just go with sw for consistency this time.

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE SMELL LIKE?

more often than not, the smell of burnt exhaust fumes and the distinct, somewhat pungent aroma of engine oil clings to han like a second skin.  if he’s been elbows-deep in some serious repairs or upgrades for the ’falcon, there’s the lingering tang of sweat mingling in.  han is a very practical man, loads more rugged than he is refined, so he isn’t big on fancy or fragrant scents.  when he’s scrubbed clean and free of grease and sweat, he smells of fresh linen or the no-nonsense scent of utilitarian detergent.  if his clothes have gone through the sonic, he’s devoid of any scent altogether. on the rare occasion han bothers with any fragrance, it’s likely a simple cologne—nothing too overpowering or difficult to come by.  i can easily see him stumbling upon a cologne in his late teens and sticking with that same scent over the years.  something subtle, like sweet corellian / kashyyykian sandalwood, sounds about right.

WHAT DO YOUR MUSE’S HANDS FEEL LIKE?

han’s hands are rough and weathered, thickened by layers of calluses and scar tissue.  his nails are dense, mostly blunted by frequent clipping, though sometimes sharpened by chipped corners and, depending on if he’s been working on repairs, darkened by engine grease stains. 

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY EAT IN A DAY?

han spends the majority of his time traveling through space.  because the ’falcon isn’t a luxury starship—though i’m sure han would fight me on that—food comes in only so many options.  han is the type of guy to enjoy hearty meals, mainly traditional corellian cuisine, the sort of stuff dewlanna would make for him before she died.  however, the space-fairing life doesn’t provide such a thing, not unless you have some kinda ultra-expensive, fancy food synth / replicator—which he doesn’t lol.  he hates the taste of artificial crap, so he keeps ample stock of your standard pre-packaged and dehydrated food rations onboard the ’falcon.  it’s nothing fancy, just portioned rations designed to provide the necessary nutrients for a human and wookiee to survive, as well as some extras for emergencies.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE A GOOD SINGING VOICE?

he isn’t terrible, nor is he a natural-born singer.  han probably never sings unless encouraged while drunk as hell, or it’s for his children.  since this is a boring answer imo, i’ll briefly mention the au in which he grew up with two sisters instead, because it features a snippet about singing i wrote in 2016 that still stands: as a child, han grew up in an incredibly traditional corellian household and learned to play the drums.  during family gatherings, they would sing old corellian legends.  han was ushered up to sing often.

DOES YOUR MUSE HAVE ANY BAD HABITS OR NERVOUS TICS?  

i’ve had to elaborate on han’s past pretty much every time i’ve plotted with someone new this year, so i’m just gonna skim over his background real quick.  don’t worry, it’s relevant to the question!

born on corellia, han solo’s early years were marked by abandonment, hardship, and virtually no recollection of how he survived.  garrus shrike, a pirate and certified shitty bastard, scooped han up off the streets and raised him to be a pickpocket, skilled con artist, and professional swoop racer etc.  throughout his childhood and well into his teens, han was emotionally manipulated, physically / emotionally abused, and nearly beaten to death by shrike on multiple occasions. in such dire circumstances, solo had to master social engineering very early on, not only to aid in shrike’s shitty schemes to scam people of credits, but also as a means to survive.  he learned how to talk sweet and take hits on the chin without flinching.  doesn’t mean he’s tolerant of when it happens, but it goes to show he’s a better sport than you would think.  to be frank, if not rather depressing, han’s ability to control himself and his emotions, including his ‘nervous tics’, hinges on both his age and the era in which you encounter him, as these factors shape the extent of his trauma. TLDR ANSWER: while not explicitly labeled as nervous tics, han’s repertoire of behaviors in tense situations falls within a distinct pattern: the flippant wave of a dismissive hand, a frantic scrubbing at his face to evade eye contact, a sudden urge to get up and pace the room, or strained laughter that punctuates an awkward silence.  rare is the accidental stammer, but it’s a good sign he’s really slipped into a dither.  the abrupt shift to dark looks, marked by crooked grins, could be a fight-or-flight response. eventually, it devolves: his jaw clenches, his chin juts forward in defiance; his fingers twitch near the grip of his blaster, and he resorts to issuing unexpected ultimatums to steer the situation back in his favor—or to circumvent it altogether.

this might seem strange, but with han, nervous tics often twine with anger.  at least, that’s the impression many might get at first glance. given his entire upbringing and the years he spent under the tyrannical thumb of an emotionally and physically abusive parental figure, han has a serious problem with authority and control. for him, the boundary between nervousness and anger is razor-thin. losing control is akin to pulling the rug out from under him.  whether triggered by positive or negative stimuli, han doesn’t handle that well, not even as an adult, as losing control equates to vulnerability, and in the harsh world han has come to know, that’s what gets you killed.  love and violence are instinctive reactions to vulnerability, and for han, violence often wins out. that is until someone lovely comes by to soften his heart, of course. p:

WHAT DOES YOUR MUSE USUALLY LOOK LIKE/WEAR?

decked out in your usual spacer’s gear, but with han’s personal touch! han prefers at least two layers crafted from thin yet durable materials, ensuring versatility in varying weather conditions while remaining lightweight and flexible, should he ever need to book a hasty retreat ( trial and error, trial and error ).  although han didn’t exactly enjoy his time as an imperial lieutenant, he is deeply prideful of his achievements and corellian heritage, which is why you won’t ever see him running with trousers that don’t feature a corellian blood-stripe running up the sides.  a gunbelt is also a necessity; he never sets foot off the ’falcon without one strapped to his waist, blaster and all.  and last but certainly not least, a sturdy pair of boots!

IS YOUR MUSE AFFECTIONATE? HOW MUCH? HOW SO?

bit of a broad question, ain’t it? don’t even know where to begin.  han is a multifaceted person.  he has layers—like an onion.  distinguishing between platonic and romantic affection is a task in itself, and han isn’t one to readily display any form of affection. generally speaking, han is a prickly thing.  he’s got a huge soft side, and he’s actually quite compassionate and understanding, but showing that side of himself must be done on his own terms, or he’d sooner eat his whole hand than allow others to see that.  yes, he’s quite the self-sabotaging little gremlin.  he is your definition of awkwardly affectionate until he’s learned to lower his guard, which has its own set of hurdles…

WHAT POSITION DOES YOUR MUSE SLEEP IN?

bold of you to assume han sleeps at all. han is a man of perpetual motion, his thoughts racing ahead to the next task even as he tackles the present one.  whether it’s contemplating the aftermath of his current endeavor, anticipating chewie’s return with a vital component, or planning out his next ship upgrade, han’s life as a smuggler has kept him on the go.  in a galaxy like star wars, danger lurks around every corner, especially in his chosen profession.   old habits die hard. when he sleeps, it’s anywhere and with one eye open.  he might say it casually, but it’s an ingrained rule he lives by: sleep with one eye open.  one eye open, ’n a loaded blaster at your side.

COULD YOU HEAR YOUR MUSE IN THE HALLWAY FROM ANOTHER ROOM?

omg lmao have you met this man? han’s great at hollerin’ from the top of his lungs, lemme tell ya.  when han’s got something to say, he’ll make sure every man, woman, enby / alien in the building hears him loud and clear lmao but in all seriousness, it depends.  is there an imperative need for him to keep his volume under control? is he engaged in a contentious exchange? or does someone else want him to keep his voice down? y’know, he might just start yelling if it’s the latter. 

tagged by: @kingofthewebxxx thank you for thinking of me!! xo

tagging: @techniiciian, @sgterso @misfittcd ( luke! ), @alootus, @debelltio, @tapalslegacy @vibraea @devoutgun @duelfated (luke!), and you if you wanna do this! thanks for reading this hot mess!!