#and even then it was not regular at all lol

[yinyuedijun]

SITUATIONSHIP | asakura shin x f!reader

You are both the most diligent worker at Sakamoto's Store and the most hypersexual person that Shin knows. Overhearing your thoughts and accidentally seeing your fantasies routinely leads to profound psychic damage for him, as well as the most poorly timed boners in the world. All of this only gets worse when the two of you start hooking up.

6k words. comedy, smut. all the sex scenes are vanilla; however, the reader constantly reads and thinks about horny fanfiction tropes including: free use, omegaverse, and breeding. these are all mentioned but not discussed in detail. warning: the reader has a warped/unhealthy relationship with her sexuality, this fic is about shin fixing her with his stroke game lol. credits to @/cafekitsune for the dividers and @hansolen for the fic brainrot <3

You are the worst coworker that Shin has ever had.

This is saying a lot, given that he's worked with countless two-bit assassins who could barely a handle a gun (no one he worked with in his late teenage years could hold a candle to Mr. Sakamoto, truly), as well as Lu, who can barely orient herself within the store. You are, in contrast, brutally efficient with your work, incredible with the customers, and very cooperative with Shin. You even know how to handle a gun, and you do it with such pinpoint precision that it's always nonlethal despite being brutally debilitating. (Your skill level does hold a candle to Mr. Sakamoto in this respect, and Shin wonders if his boss has given you some kind of private training—a thought that fills him with such jealousy that it makes him want to chew on the sale stickers in his hands.) There's just one problem.

You are probably the horniest person alive, and Shin is about to lose his fucking mind listening to your thoughts.

Now, Shin is used to hearing the unfiltered stream of consciousness of the average human being. This naturally includes carnal desires here and there. He’s desensitized to most people’s erotic fantasies about their favourite gravure idol, memories of their last sexual encounter, intrusive thoughts about their friends, et cetera. He habitually tunes it out. But whereas a regular person might have these thoughts once or twice a day, you seem to have them once or twice an hour. And none of your thoughts are ever brief or underdeveloped. They usually last at least ten minutes each, with detailed internal monologuing and accompanying 8K UltraHD visuals, and you really only ever stop when you're trying to remember a code at the till or doing some quick mental math with the accounts.

Needless to say, Shin tries to keep you at the register as much as possible.

You used to tell yourself (in your head) that your mental fixation on sex was a natural consequence of your dry spell. After quitting the assassin life, you'd been celibate for the first time in at least a decade, forced to attain sexual gratification with nothing but masterfully written fanfiction and your vast collection of vibrators. (Your favourite one is hot pink, seven inches, rabbit eared. You sometimes have trouble getting it to fit, but it’s worth it for the way you cum when you do, and this knowledge makes Shin want to die.) You were convinced that getting laid would bring you enough relief to stop thinking about sex every hour of the day. You had thought that you'd go back to “normal” after that, though Shin doesn't know what “normal” entails for you. (One free-use fantasy a day instead of twelve? Daydreams strictly featuring humans rather than tentacle monsters? It's hard to say.)

Regardless, Shin had to agree: surely, there would be a limit to your sex-obsessed thoughts. It made a lot of sense that you were simply frustrated and in need of an outlet. Naturally, after sleeping with you, he'd expected your thoughts to quiet down.

(Yes—Shin slept with you. It was an accident, through and through, and he routinely feels bad about it. He'd been meaning to ask you out, treat you to dinner, maybe even get you flowers depending on the vibe. The type of thing that Mr. Sakamoto did for Aoi, when they first started dating. If everything went well, then you two could consider getting intimate. His interest in you has nothing to do with sex, after all—no, not even the fact that you've had explicit fantasies about deepthroating him while he works the cash. He'd die if you ever tried that, actually.

The plan was always to take things slow and maybe even start a relationship if the two of you really hit it off. He'd even asked Mr. Sakamoto for advice on what a civilian romance should look like! But then Shin walked you back to your apartment one night when you were feeling down, and you invited him upstairs, and one thing led to another, and, well… it turns out that you aren't the type of person to take things slow. Or think about relationships. Shin’s never overheard any thoughts from you about actually dating him, come to think of it. And no, before you ask—that doesn't bother him. Not at all. Not one bit.)

To both his surprise and yours, getting laid somehow had the opposite effect on you. Rather than being calmed, you're somehow even hornier—and now all your horny thoughts are about Shin.

It's nonstop. Shin can't believe it. Whereas you used to think about all sorts of people in your sexual fantasies (mostly your fanfiction men, but also some BL characters, occasionally Keanu Reeves, and very often that Nagumo guy), you now think solely of Shin. You're thinking about him right now, pausing as you finish restocking the onigiri.

Shin can hear every single thought from across the room, the way you feel the edges of your sanity fraying with the memory of his touch. The whole day, you've been remembering how it felt to have your pussy stretched around his cock, how it felt to have his hands on your curves, how he seemed to know exactly how to touch your body to make you keen. (Shin admits he cheated; a little ESP goes a long way in bed.) You soaked the sheets when you finally came, and he kissed you relentlessly through your orgasm. It made you so horny that you had to immediately go another round.

No other man’s ever made you cum like that, you keep thinking. You've fucked more people than you can count, but not a single person has ever felt so good inside you. The realisation is driving you crazy, and Shin feels like he's about to go crazy with you. In the absence of a cold shower, he wants to shove himself into the freezer right now. There's no other way to get rid of his raging boner.

How did it feel so fucking good?! you keep thinking, oblivious to his struggles. I need his cock inside me again. I need him to hit it raw this time. I need him to bend me over the counter and cum in my pussy right now—

It makes him want to die, listening to your thoughts. It also confuses him, somewhat: he isn't that experienced, and objectively he’s a little clumsy in bed. His performance is probably mid in the grand scheme of things, which makes him wonder why you feel like his dick is heaven-sent.

But more than anything, Shin wonders if you ever think about anything other than his dick. Sex isn't the only thing the two of you have done together. The first time you hooked up, he'd spent the night at your place. You clung to him in his sleep and you drooled on his chest and he thought it was kinda funny. He was careful not to wake you as he wiped your chin. You’d cooked him breakfast by the time he'd woken up: homemade miso, fresh rice, tamagoyaki. He made you burnt coffee after. You gave him a goodbye kiss, which somehow turned into a goodbye blowjob, which then escalated into wasting the day together in bed. You were really cuddly the whole time, and Shin could hear you think, how weird, I hate it when people hold me, and I hate it when people kiss me, but you liked it from Shin. You liked it so much that your pussy started dripping, and then what else could you do but suck him off again? (He returned the favour, of course.)

There was a lot more than just fucking, but you never think about any of that other stuff. You only ever think about his stroke game.

Not that that bothers Shin. Not at all. Not one bit.

By noon, he reaches his limit.

Shin considers himself a responsible guy and dedicated employee. He'd ordinarily never want to take off in the middle of the day to fool around with you—or anyone else—but it's his lunch break, and he has to get you to stop fantasizing. His dick is so hard that it's painful, and even with the apron it's getting tricky to cover up. As soon as the clock hits 12, he's throwing it off and making a beeline for you.

“We need to talk,” he says, grabbing you by the hand, and the face you make is so giddy that he can't help but sigh. You’re practically beaming as you take off your apron and say bye to Lu. We’ll be back in 30! you tell her in a sing-song voice, because you’re a very conscientious worker even when outrageously horny.

“You heard my thoughts?” you ask as the two of you climb the stairs to his room, and he snorts.

“How couldn't I?” He gives you a miserable look, cheeks flushing. “Were you doing that on purpose the whole morning?”

“No.” He raises a brow. “I'm serious—I wasn't trying to cause any trouble for you! It's just…” You bite your lip, and it takes all of Shin’s self-control to stop himself from staring at its glossy sheen. “I really just need to be touched again.”

“I don't believe you,” he says as he pulls you into his room.

“You're an esper! You should know I'm telling the truth!”

“I also know you like to torture me with your thoughts.”

“Well, yeah…” You smile at him, sheepish. “But I really just need a bit of relief. Want me to prove it to you?”

There's a sudden glint in your eye that makes Shin nervous, out of his depth. Sometimes he gets the feeling that you want to eat him alive, and he never knows how to handle it. He’s never gotten this level of attention before, and never in his wildest dreams did he think he'd get it from someone like you.

(Yeah—you're way out of Shin's league. For all his plans of a civilian romance, he wasn’t sure if he could actually score a date with you. He still isn't sure if he can score one. He's also not sure he’ll survive this encounter.)

He swallows. “Prove it…?”

“Uh huh.” You look so pretty right now, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Let me show you.”

You read too much hentai. Shin knows this firsthand (you read a lot of it on the clock, and all the images get blasted right into his prefrontal cortex), but he can also tell from how you act. It’s just way too fucking outrageous when you spread your legs for him, pulling up your skirt, and he's greeted not by the sight of your panties (you wore a lacy pair to work and kept bending over in hopes of flashing him—you had not been shy at all in this thought), but your bare, glistening cunt.

No fucking way.

“You’ve been working like that?!” he blurts out, mildly horrified even though his dick is jumping at the sight of you. You laugh, and you conjure up your panties from somewhere. They dangle from your fingertips, sheer and drenched.

“Took them off as we came up here. They're useless now anyway, see”—they’ve been soaked through for hours, and my thighs are all sticky—“and besides… I wanted to give you easy access.”

He thinks he's going to pass out.

“Easy access,” he repeats stiffly, bright red.

“Uh huh. Wanted to be efficient—we only have, what, twenty minutes?” Before he can even react, you're already turning around, bending over for him, ass up. From this angle, he can see just how wet you are—and how you're clenching around nothing, your cunt empty and needing to be filled. You glance over your shoulder, give him a teasing smile. “What are you waiting for?”

It’s a wonder that Shin doesn't cum on the spot, really. Like he said—he isn't an experienced guy. He's never slept with anyone so forward, or so—well. Smoking hot, for lack of better word. Half of him has a mind to just stand there and say that he can't believe you, and half of him has a mind to fuck you like you've been hoping all morning. Thankfully, this latter half of him wins out—probably for the better. If he helps you work this out of your system, you'll probably stop assaulting his mind with all your horny thoughts and his dick can exist in peace for the rest of the afternoon. Right?

Right?

(He ends up being extremely wrong.)

By the time he's pulled down his pants, put a condom on, and started pushing inside you, the two of you have seventeen minutes left. He worries briefly that it won't be enough time to get you to cum (nor him, though that isn't his goal currently), but it turns out to be a non-issue. Your pussy swallows his cock easily, stretching around him so perfectly that he nearly chokes. He always hears you talking about how sex with him feels leagues better than with any other person, but he’s not sure if you know that the same is true for him. No one's ever felt as good as you, and it takes every ounce of willpower in him not to cum immediately.

You're already close to the edge, too. Probably pent up from squeezing your thighs together all morning and thinking about his touch. You moan in a way that is obscene, like something out of an AV—but Shin knows that it isn't a performance. He can feel your body and hear your thoughts, all the genuine bliss you get from being filled up. When he starts moving, it's with intent. He fucks you like you’ve been fantasising all day, all week—with a relentless pace, focused on giving you nothing but pleasure. You tighten around him like you were made for him, and—

—apparently you feel like you're being used? Like a hole? The fuck! Shin almost stops mid-stroke to balk at you—he wouldn't do that to you!—but then you moan and he feels you getting wetter at the thought, and then he has no choice but to keep going. He's not about to kill your high.

Nine minutes left. Your clit is throbbing, neglected, and as soon as you think about touching yourself, Shin’s fingers are circling it instead and making you keen. He hits the spot inside you that has your eyes rolling back and your spine arching beautifully, and you can’t speak with your mouth, but he hears you anyway: the begging, the neediness, right there right there you're doing so good Shin you feel so good don't stop don't stop don't, don't—

“Oh fuck,” you whimper, pressing your face into the sheets, and then Shin feels you pulsing around him, drenching him. He gets dragged over the edge with you, gasping sharply as he finds his own release. You collapse as he twitches inside you, spilling himself inside the condom, and he almost snorts when he hears you thinking, wish you were cumming in my pussy instead. Do it raw next time, okay?

“You know we have to use a condom,” he says between pants.

“But I'm on birth control! Read my mind—you know I'm telling the truth!”

“And I also know that birth control is only 93% effective,” he says, rolling his eyes. He glances at the clock. “C'mon—we only have five minutes until our lunch break ends.”

It feels a little weird, rushing you. He’s never had a quickie before, but he understands that you can't exactly take your time with cleaning up afterwards. Still, he thinks about what it was like the last time the two of you did this—how slow and soft it was after, how he stayed inside you for a bit, how he kissed you long and cleaned you up carefully. It just felt like the right thing to do after sleeping with someone, especially given that that someone was you. He'd much prefer to do that right now.

But you are both punctual workers, and anyway Shin’s heard enough of your idle thoughts to know that you’re fairly apathetic to aftercare—you never expect it, and you’re never particularly sad when you don't get it. Sometimes you even fantasize about being used roughly and then discarded (a thought that he finds so unpleasant that it instantly kills his boner every time).

So it's probably fine to rush back downstairs, he figures. He throws you some wipes, lets you clean yourself up. You do it without complaint. You're not upset. He can even hear your mind humming with satisfaction, coming down from the highs of sensory pleasure.

Which is why he's confused when he hears you think, Huh. That didn't feel as good as I thought it would.

It's not like it felt bad.

This is what Shin hears all afternoon: You had a good time. You generally like being treated like a hole. You hadn't thought that Shin would have it in him to do that (neither did he, he admits), but it was kind of thrilling that he did. You want him to do it again for sure. He hit your g-spot with the kind of precision that only an esper can manage, and your vision nearly went white as you found your climax.

And that's what matters, right? You came. You had an orgasm. The little death. The ultimate goal of sex. You used to have a hard time with it, but after so many missions your body started to enjoy sex and now you cum very easily. And you came very easily with Shin, so that means you must enjoy having sex with him too, right?

But it was better the first time you had sex. Objectively better. You came way harder. You even squirted during your second round with him! Your orgasm was so intense that you felt blissed out for the rest of the night, and even the morning after. When you woke up and realised that Shin was not only still there, but also holding you, it made you so horny that you nearly woke him up with a blowjob. It was only with great self-control that you woke him up with breakfast instead.

You don’t feel like that right now, though. You don't feel horny and you don't feel like cooking and the euphoria of your orgasm melted away a while ago. You just feel sort of… empty.

You don't feel bad, though. It's a beautiful day. The char siu bao in your hand is incredibly fragrant. Piisuke is on your shoulder and chirping in your ear. Shin looks really handsome in his apron—did you know that, Shin? you ask him in your mind—and he goes bright red at this thought and looks away. You don't feel bad, you mentally reassure him. You just don't feel as good as you thought you would.

But Shin does feel bad. He feels miserable, actually. He's not a very experienced guy, but even he can tell that you’re the type of person who needs to be held after having sex. It seems like you probably don't realise it, but it's clear as day to Shin, and for the rest of the afternoon he hates himself for not having done it. It wouldn’t have had to be for very long.

Lu could have covered for an extra fifteen minutes, he keeps thinking. Fuck!

Eventually, you ask him to come over in the evening, and he scrambles to agree, desperate for a do-over.

Shin’s not really good at this hook-up business.

Now—he isn't exactly good at relationships either, but he feels exceptionally awkward about coming over to your place with the express purpose of having sex. He isn't familiar with dick appointment etiquette, especially not appointments involving a friend. Was he meant to bring a gift? A Netflix movie recommendation? It would have felt wrong to show up completely empty-handed, so he ends up bringing your favourite snacks and two bottles of Pocari Sweat. If this is anything like the first time he stayed over, you'll probably both need it.

You're delighted by the snacks and amused by the drinks. He wrestles with himself over what kind of small-talk to make—there’s a PS5 out right now, and your TV screen is paused on Leon Kennedy’s face, so maybe he can start a conversation about the horror genre? He watches a lot of films—but you're dragging him into your room before he can overthink it.

“I missed you,” you say, voice all sweet with affection as you straddle his lap.

“It's been two hours,” he points out, somehow managing not to stammer.

“Eight hours since we fucked.”

“That's not very long at all.”

“Felt like forever to me.” Your whisper is so tender in his ear, incongruent with the absolute filth you're thinking about right now. You need his cock so, so bad—you’d have it inside you 24/7 if you could have it your way, though he's also free to help himself to your body at any hour of the day. Sure, he can't smoke on the premises, but there's no rule against hiking up your skirt and pushing your panties to the side so he can—

“I wouldn't do that in the store!” he squawks, and you giggle.

“Then you should start taking me up to your room more often.”

Shin would be more than happy to host you, actually. He’s been thinking lately about having you over for dinner—Aoi’s been teaching him how to cook—and getting to know you better, in a non-Biblical way. But Shin knows that's not what you mean. You want him to carry you upstairs without asking and to throw you onto his bed and to fuck you into the mattress. You want to go back to your shift without your panties, his cum dripping out of your pussy and sliding down your—

“You really want me to finish inside you,” Shin remarks, bewildered at your sheer obsession over it, and you tilt your head.

“Don't you?”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean—we shouldn't. It's, uh. Risky. I don't want to get you, y'know… pregnant…” His dick twitches in a way that makes him grateful that you don't have ESP. He's realising something about himself that he absolutely cannot think about, and which you would absolutely exploit if you figured out. He clears his throat, hoping he looks normal. “Like. You know. It's better to be on the safe side.”

You study him carefully. “I dunno, Shin.” You smile knowingly. “I don't think I'd mind it if you wanted to breed me.”

Shin is going to die.

The next twenty minutes pass in a horny blur. The two of you spend it all over each other, his cock sliding along your opening—dangerously close to pushing in. You beg him for just the tip, both verbally and mentally—pleaaase Shin please please please it'd be so easy, I'm still stretched out from before, you know it'd feel good—and he's watched enough adult films to know that this is a blatant trap. He somehow pulls away, and immediately feels bad at the crushed expression you make, so he decides he has no choice but to make it up to you by putting his head between your thighs. Within minutes he’s sucking on your clit and making you keen, his fingers curling inside you. He knows your orgasm is intense both from the way you gush all over his face and how your mind goes pleasantly, blissfully quiet for a moment.

It doesn't stay quiet for long.

The most debauched image possible comes to his mind—you, underneath him, your legs folded into a mating press as you take his cock. He’s giving you another load, pumping you full. It's filling up your womb, and you'll definitely get pregna—

“You’re fucking evil,” he groans. “And you read way too much hentai. Those visuals were so goofy.”

You laugh, unbothered. “Sorry, I'll adjust them for realism next time.”

“Please don't,” he begs, even though he knows he's going to spend the next week being mentally assaulted by your breeding kink fantasies. He just hopes they stay relatively normal and don't devolve into the weird omegaverse stuff. Or the monsterfucking stuff. Or the gangbang scenarios. Please, God, anything but the gangbang fantasies. He’ll scream if you imagine another threesome with him and that invisible asshole who kidnapped Lu. He’ll simply resign if you add Nagumo.

To your profound disappointment, Shin ends up using a condom. He doesn't give you much time to feel sad about it, settling quickly between your legs and practically knocking the breath out of you as he thrusts into you. He’s left kind of breathless too. You weren't lying—you are still stretched out from earlier in the day, wet and pliant for him, and there's hardly any resistance as he starts pumping into you. He watches you carefully, laid out underneath him—your eyes squeezing shut as you're made to take his cock. Your mind goes a little quiet again, overwhelmed by pleasure. It's simultaneously a blessing and a curse: Shin’s finally getting a break from your psychic teasing, but the knowledge that he's fucking you dumb is doing something horrible to him.

He changes his angle, and a whimper leaves you. You tighten and gush around him in a way that makes it obvious what he’s hitting; he doesn't need ESP to know to keep doing it. Still, your thoughts are going haywire, a tangle of desire, and it's impossible for him to ignore. I need, he keeps hearing as your thighs starts to twitch, as you start tearing up, I need I need I need I need—

Your eyes land on his lips, and Shin hears you.

His kiss is open-mouthed, clumsy, but you’re hungry for it anyway. You’re panting into each other’s mouths when you start pulsing around Shin’s dick, and you end up cumming so hard on his cock that it's dizzying for you both. He fucks you through your orgasm, and it's only when you're glassy-eyed and limp beneath him that he finally lets himself finish. He pulls back as he does, gasping sharply, but not for long—you draw him back in quickly, clinging to him as you seek out another kiss. The two of you stay like that for a long moment—still connected, breaths heavy with exhaustion, lips slow and lazy against each other.

“Enjoy yourself more this time?” Shin asks, and you hum sweetly against his mouth. You’re still too mindless from your orgasm to form any real thoughts, but Shin can tell that you don't really want to talk. You want to keep kissing him. And you want him to hold you while you do it, which he happily obliges.

Some ten minutes later, you make a small noise of protest when Shin pulls out of you, and it turns into a look of outright betrayal when he gets up. Shin’s heart clenches immediately.

“Just getting stuff to clean up,” he explains, and you relax visibly.

“Oh,” you say. “Right.”

You seem antsy. You feel antsy. You're antsy because you just realised how much you like kissing Shin. Specifically, you've realised that kissing him elevates your orgasms into mind-blowing experiences, and now you're questioning every other orgasm you've had. Maybe I don't actually enjoy sex that much? you wonder. Or maybe I always needed to be kissed to enjoy it more? Wait, no. I hate it when people kiss me. It's gross. Except for when it's Shin. Why Shin? Hm… that apron must really be doing something for me.

Your head hurts. Shin patiently watches you replay your past experiences in your head, comparing all those nights with this one, and he can’t help but frown. Deeply. Your eyes go wide when he gives you an alarmed look at one particular memory.

“Shit, sorry! I forgot you’d see all that.”

“No, I'm sorry,” he says, feeling—not for the first time—guilty about his powers. “If I could turn it off, I would.”

“Don't be sorry. You can't help it. That'd be like if I were sorry for breathing.” But despite your easy words, you’re watching him carefully, and your mind is stirring in an unsettling way. I'm nervous? you realise. Your heart is beating in a way that suggests a flight or fight response. It gets worse the longer you stare at him. Why am I nervous? Tell me, Shin.

“I wouldn't know.” Except he’s got a good guess, and he'd rather die than say it out loud because it would be embarrassing for you both if he were wrong. He'd have to resign. Nevertheless, he tries to guide you in a specific direction: “Have you really never liked it when people kissed you?”

“No,” you reply immediately. “I don't see the point of kissing during sex.”

He gives you a long look. “What if it’s not just sex? What if it's just a regular kiss on a regular day with, like, a partner? Someone you're really serious about.” He blinks at the confused stare you're giving him. “You mean you don't like that either?”

It's suddenly very noisy. Shin can hear your mind buzzing as you stare at the ceiling of your room, not with coherent sentences so much as shapeless confusion. His skin crawls with the echo of your discomfort; it's a wonder you aren't slipping out from the sheets to run away.

“...I don't know,” you finally decide. “I don't have much real dating experience.”

“Huh? You’ve said before that you've dated lots of guys.”

“Um.” You’re careful not to look at him. “Yeah, I guess. They all sucked though. I, like, wanted to kill every single one of my exes.”

“Like they were shitty boyfriends?”

No, like they were assassination targets, you think, and Shin has to keep a straight face as you reply, “Yeah, something like that.”

You rarely lie to Shin. You did it somewhat frequently until you figured out that he was capable of ESP, and then you stopped because you didn't see a point anymore. You only do it now when there's something you really don't want to talk about, so Shin relents. He focuses on cleaning himself up, and he interrupts the tense hum of your thoughts when he turns his attention to you. By the time he's finished and slid back into bed, your more complicated emotions have vanished, and you're back to marveling at the quality of the orgasm you just had. Apparently you like to keep things fairly simple in your inner world.

When Shin puts an arm around you, he can hear your pleasant surprise—and your immediate desire to press into him.

You're so happy just being held by him, it's shocking. And painfully endearing. Shin tries to pretend not to notice the warm glow of your thoughts, as well as your confusion over them: surely the simple act of being close to someone can't feel so good. Maybe the whole kissing thing was just a coincidence and Shin happened to be hitting it just right when your lips met. Or maybe he used his ESP on you to make you cum extra hard and he's still influencing you, and that's why you feel so tenderhearted right now.

“My powers only allow me to read minds,” he tells you. “I can't control other people.”

“Aw,” you say, “that's too bad. I bet forced orgasms with ESP would feel amazing.”

“...”

Shin realises something else about himself that he absolutely cannot let you know. Thankfully for him, you're none the wiser. Your mind’s somewhere else entirely when you climb on top of him, smiling neatly. Mind you, what you're thinking is still making him feel nervous. He's always a little out of his depth with you.

“Shin…”

You lean in, breath sweeping over his lips. His heart jumps.

“Y-yeah?”

“I'm still confused about how that felt so good.”

“I’ve noticed.”

You hold back a laugh. “Yeah, I guess you would have.” Then you give him an apologetic look. “Sorry I'm so stuck on it. I just thought I knew my body, y'know? I felt like I had tried everything worth trying. Sex was starting to feel boring, including the freaky stuff. But this is very new to me.”

This close up, Shin can feel the brush of your lashes when they flutter. See the glossy swell of your lips from all the kissing. Take in the fragrance of your hair. He starts to feel dizzy. “I-is it? I don't think we've been doing anything, uh. Crazy.”

“I didn't think so either.” Your thumb traces his lip. You're thinking about kissing him again, and you're also thinking about riding him as you do it. “I can't help but want to try it a few more times, you know? Just to make sure it wasn't a fluke.”

“A few more times,” he repeats, and you smile.

“You don't have anywhere you need to be tonight, do you?”

The two of you get two hours of sleep that night, and you end up going through both bottles of Pocari Sweat and all the snacks. There's no time for breakfast or burnt coffee the morning after; you make the executive decision to just eat something at the store instead. Shin leaves behind a toothbrush and you tell him he should also bring an extra set of clothes next time. He tries not to get too excited about the fact that there's going to be a next time. He fails.

Mr. Sakamoto sees the two of you as you make it to work just on time together and immediately figures out what's happened. Shin gets a mental reprimand for not marrying you first, and the disappointment from Mr. Sakamoto is so strong that he briefly considers resigning out of disgrace. But he stays on, and the days pass, and your relationship with him remains the same. Sort of.

Because, see. Now that you're regularly getting laid, your horny thoughts have finally (finally!) calmed down. You now have one free-use fantasy a day instead of twelve, and your daydreams only occasionally feature tentacle monsters. You do like to torture Shin with breeding kink scenarios, but that's only once a day, and they never involve any other guys. Shin considers this a victory, respite from the psychic agony that he was previously experiencing.

There's just one problem.

You want to kiss Shin all the time now, and it's making him feel like the horniest person alive.

He can't believe it. He doesn't have a particularly strong sex drive, and he rarely ever has sexual fantasies. But holy shit is he having them a lot now, and he can't say it's strictly your fault.

You spend most of the day now thinking about what it felt like to kiss him in bed, and what it felt like to hold his hand as he moved inside you, and what it felt like to be in his arms afterwards. What it would feel like if you were to do those things that you used to hate—kissing someone, linking fingers, embracing them—with Shin. Not just in bed, but on a regular day, out in the open. In a secluded park somewhere, or maybe at the top of a Ferris wheel, or even on a random street corner if the mood is right. All of these daydreams are usually followed by very explicit fantasies about public, unprotected sex, but the kissing is the most important part of it. The subsequent creampies are pretty significant too, but not nearly as much as the bits where you make out.

And somehow, the thought of cumming in you is not the part of the fantasy that's driving Shin crazy.

You give him a meaningful look. A week ago, this would have been a sign that you wanted him to bend you over the counter and give you backshots. Now it means you want to sneak away to kiss him and hold hands, and this makes him want to do things to you that would get him fired immediately.

Shin sighs, and he contemplates shoving himself into the freezer.

END

I wrote this with one hand and did not proofread it. my apologies if you see any errors. I just needed to be free of these thoughts asap. release me...

PS - I know the Resident Evil/Leon Kennedy mention must have felt very random, but it's set-up for potential future sequels haha.

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

i think itd be kinda cute if readers mom and bruce had to co parent lowk

like the batfam gets sad watching reader get so excited to go with their mom and so sad to come back to the manor lol

-🍰

So real

Readers love their mom's side of the family more than anything—all their aunts and uncles, some of whom aren't even related to their mom, but who really cares? They're not just friends; they're family. These are some of the people who helped raise them and care for them when their mom had to go abroad for modeling. But the best people to hang out with are their cousins, who are like brothers and sisters. They grew up on the same block with these kids, who were younger or older than them, playing Wii or Smash Bros., or just playing hand games and regular tag. These people are their siblings; they made them feel safe and at home; they made them feel special. They made them who they are today. Having a sleepover at their grandma's place, they were all in the living room giggling and laughing under blankets until their grandma came downstairs and told them to shut up, threatening a belt, which made them laugh even more. They might not have another sleepover for a few weeks.

But the reader hates having to go to the manor. You've just never been ignored this much before. Maybe when you were really little, you were too small for the big kids or too big for the babies, and you surely couldn't hang out with the adults, so you just hung off your grandma. But there's no grandma to help you through this; you're all alone in this big mansion filled with kids. You're all alone; they're older than you, smarter than you, stronger, faster—they're just better in every way, and you're just you. Not to mention that they already have ties tighter than a Boy Scout knot, so who are you to intrude on their fun? You never were invited to begin with, and when you were invited, it was out of pity. So you sit there as they talk over you, acting so playful with one another, while you're just there like a small crack in the wall, begging to be filled with something—love, attention, anything, really. So you leave the room to let them have their fun, and now, all of a sudden, you're selfish and rude. "Really, they were begging for us to hang out with them!"They're so spoiled!" They think you can't hear them, but you can. It pushes you to tears, and they're all older than you—not in age, but in the way they act. You're 17, so you act 17, but Tim, who’s the same age as you, acts like he’s 20. They're so mature, and they make you feel so childish. The reader hates, hates, and hates going to Wayne Manor because you're not a Wayne.

[frostedfragments]

calling dr zayne! ✧.* zayne x reader ✧.* 2.2k words ✧.* only fans au summary: dr zayne stumbles across his favourite patient's onlyfans account warnings!: zayne breaks some rules!!!, masturbation, use of a sex toy, voyeurism note: couldn't help but imagine an au where zayne doesn't know you and you wind up as his patient...and breaks a couple of dr oaths lol note2: ive' never seen the of website so if the mechanics of it are innacurate pls ignore and lets stay playful together

divider cred. @enchanthings-a

There’s only so many online medical articles one can read before they need some mindless doom scrolling. It’s not often Zayne logs into his social media accounts, he much prefers to spend his small amount of free time reading or hiking, but he can’t resist catching up on what his friends and family are posting on Instagram. He doesn’t see them nearly as often as he should, and it’s the small trickle of guilt down his throat that has him scrolling on his computer, smiling when he sees a couple photos of his parents on their holiday, his co-workers on a night out he declined to join them on, and the occasional cat video.

He’s not sure how he finds it, but the explore page is such an overstimulating mess of faces and bodies that he usually avoids it completely. It’s only because his hand twitches that he even sees the post in the first place, but he looks. And continues to look.

The woman in the photo doesn’t show her face, just the long line of her neck and the soft, plumpness of her cleavage in a bra that leaves little to the imagination. He briefly wonders how a picture like this is allowed on the app, but he’s soon clicking on the profile before he can stop himself, intrigued by smooth skin and little else. He is still a man after all, and once he is exposed to the abundance of tantalising images on the woman’s profile, he is reminded how long it has been since he had his hands on a woman.

His favourite patient doesn’t count, he thinks reflexively, frowning that the thought even crept into his mind at all. You’ve been his patient for roughly six months now; you’ve had a heart condition all your life, one that is well-managed and non-life threatening, but still needs regular monitoring. Your previous heart doctor passed away, and so your case was given to Zayne.

He tries to shake the memory of your face out of his mind as he glances through the pictures, having every intention of clicking out of the woman’s profile and logging off for the evening. Maybe even taking a shower to rid his body from this sudden thrum of energy that radiates low in his stomach, but a link in the bio of the profile catches his eye. Snags his attention like a siren, luring him in with the promise of more, and he almost feels as if he’s doing something illegal when he clicks on it.

OnlyFans isn’t completely new to Zayne - there are a few colleagues he knows who watch adult content on the site, though he mistakenly always thought it was a place where fetish content lived. Feet videos, women humiliating men on camera, food play - not really his taste. But when the link has loaded, and racier images of the woman appear, Zayne feels his cock twitch, feels it begin to fill out as his eyes graze the image of the woman laying on a bed, back arched, breasts displayed beautifully in a black lace bra which leaves her pert, pink nipples completely uncovered.

God, he needs to get laid or something. He hasn’t had the time to date, or even the energy to masturbate, always exhausted from multiple surgeries in one day or typing up notes from said surgeries. His body reminds him now of the necessity to release all the pent up tension that collects in his spine, and he absentmindedly rubs his hand over the bulge in his slacks, sighing softly at the instant swell of pleasure.

His eyes dart back up to the screen, a flush warming his cheeks and the tips of his ears, but he makes an account anyway before he can stop himself, typing in his credit card information and subscribing to the woman who seems to have come out of nowhere and locked in his attention with just a few pictures of her body.

Once he has full access to the page, he scrolls through picture after picture, some more explicit than others. When he reaches the video section, he notices one posted just a few hours ago titled watch me cum while i think about him. The thumbnail shows the woman in a pale pink lingerie set, plush thighs wrapped in white, lace stockings as she sits demurely on white bed sheets. Her neck, chin and full mouth are all that is visible of her face, and Zayne’s gut tenses as he moves the mouse over, clicking play on the video.

His speakers hum with the sound of the video as the woman walks towards the bed, sitting down and smiling softly. Her lips are glossy with a balm or something, and Zayne resigns himself to his base need, slowly unbuckling his belt as the girl shuffles back on the bed slightly.

“Hi guys,” Her voice filters through the speakers, and Zayne frowns, though he can’t think what it is about the voice that makes him pause, “I just got home, and I saw my favourite doctor today. Obviously, though you’ve all been asking, I can’t say his name, but just trust me when I say he’s…so fine,”

Zayne’s hand pulls down the zipper of his slacks, licking his lips, watching closely as she trails her hands over her skin that already looks flushed with arousal. The bra barely contains her full breasts, nipples already straining against the thin fabric. He needs to see them, his hands feel empty with the need to fill his palms with their softness, and he dips into his briefs to pull out his cock, already hard and red at the tip.

The woman has barely touched herself yet, and he feels so pent up he might come before she even gets started.

Reaching over, the woman grabs what looks to be a pink sleep mask, hands disappearing out of frame before she sits back on her elbows, her full face in frame, half covered by the mask. She rolls onto her tummy as she stretches across the mattress again, the sounds of a drawer opening and closing. Her ass is almost bare, round and soft in a matching pink thong. Zayne let’s his hand stroke experimentally over his dick, exhaling shakily.

The girl is back facing the camera now, long hair fanning out over the sheets. It has Zayne pausing again, the first shiver of alarm running through his spine as he spots something on her hip. A tattoo.

The same tattoo his new patient has. But surely, it’s just a coincidence. Maybe you and this girl just have similar taste. He pauses his movements, still as stone while his brain works overtime to avoid the truth of the situation.

By now the girl, or as Zayne realises with a start, you are fully spread out on the mattress. Your legs move restlessly, like you’re so turned on you can’t stay still, and Zayne’s eyes close at the way the thought sits heavy in his groin, balls tightening as his hand squeezes the base of his dick.

He absolutely cannot do this, he cannot watch a video of a patient writhing around on their bed in nothing but their lingerie. The item you had pulled out, a sizable pink dildo, is laying by your thigh, and there is no question between that and the title about what is about to happen. But then you start speaking again, and Zayne is forced to open his eyes at the sound of your voice.

“Will you guys stay with me?” Your voice is breathier now, and you lick your lips when your hand palms a breast. Zayne’s jaw clenches, “I’ve needed to come all day since my appointment. My doctor has such big hands, it’s so fucking hot -” You gasp, fingers twisting a nipple through your bra, and Zayne’s thighs tense, a thick bead of precum dribbling down his cock at the idea that you’re about to think of him while you fuck yourself.

He must be fucking dreaming. Or maybe it’s a nightmare, given that he’s breaking every single possible rule right now by not clicking out of this video. But his dick is almost throbbing in his hand now, and he can’t rip his eyes away from the screen when your hand trails over your stomach, fingers slipping under the elastic of your thong. Your hand presses back against the mattress as you moan softly.

“I’ve been wet the whole way home,” You whine, “His voice, it’s so deep and soft. And his eyes; he watches me like he could ruin me if he wanted to. I can’t stop thinking about him,”

Zayne loses the battle against his entire brain screaming at him that this is wrong, this is a terrible idea. That he needs to stop. But he can’t, how is he supposed to stop when you’re rocking against your hand, lips parted to accommodate the ragged breaths and throaty sounds you make. He strokes himself, all the air leaving his lungs.

Your other hand reaches down to your thigh where the dildo sits, forgotten, and you smile as you hold it up to the camera, “I chose my biggest one for tonight. I want to imagine him fucking - ah - fucking me,”

“Oh, fuck,” He grits, other hand gripping the arm of his desk chair. His balls ache, and he runs his thumb over the head of his cock, watching you with half-open eyes as you shimmy out of the thong.

“How much do you want to see?” Zayne almost thinks you’re speaking directly to him, and it feels that way with the intimate hum of your voice. Maybe you are, maybe you’re imagining him doing this right now. Breaking every rule and fucking his hand while you shift on the bed, facing away from the camera and falling forward to reveal your soaked, pink pussy and the tight hole above. Zayne’s teeth nearly bite right through his lower lip when your hand reaches back, small fingers pushing right inside.

His hand speeds up, the slick sounds filling the room alongside your moans, and he wishes you were right here with him. He wishes that instead of removing your fingers and sliding the dildo through your folds, that you were here, bouncing on his cock.

You sit up slightly, looking over your shoulder as you place the dildo at your entrance. Your lips curl into a smile, “I don’t even need any lube tonight. I’m so fucking wet,”

“Yeah, you are,” Zayne murmurs to himself, half-mad with desire to see you be filled up. Even if he can’t be the one to do it, his teeth ache as he clenches his jaw, waiting for you to sink down onto that silicone, imagining it's him.

Teeth pressed into your soft lower lip, you slowly take every inch of the dildo, thighs trembling slightly, enough to make the skin of your ass ripple a bit. When you raise your hips up again, the silicone is shiny with your need, and Zayne’s mouth is watering, his fist jerking almost too fast. He doesn’t want this to be over yet, but when you start to bounce it’s too late to slow down. You’re almost moving at the same pace as his hand, and he groans, falling back into the seat so he can jerk his hips up a little, fantasising that he’s under you, that you’re taking him like a good girl would.

“Oh, god,” You whimper, the wet sounds of you fucking yourself like a melody through Zayne’s speakers, “s-so big, oh he’s so big, I know it -,”

“Shit,” Zayne digs his nails into his thigh to stop himself from coming. There’s sweat running down his chest now, and he reaches up to undo his tie, tossing it to the ground. He can barley breathe, his cock so wet it’s almost like he’s actually fucking you.

“F-fuck- I waited all day for this. Since I left his - hng - office. God, I want him to fuck me on the desk. I bet he would be so good, so rough. Oh god, please,” You’re no longer bouncing on the dildo, instead grinding your hips on it, skin dewy and flushed red, “God, I’m gonna come, oh - oh, fuck -”

Zayne is shaking, his hand almost cramping from how fast he’s dragging it along his cock. His balls give a warning throb before he flicks his eyes up to see you coming with him, your thighs twitching, hips moving jaggedly as you continue to grind down on the fake cock. He twists his wrist at the head of his length and groans loudly, closing his eyes, imagining you’re coating his dick, coming all over it. His cum stains his fingers and his white shirt, chest dropping harshly with every breath he drags in. His body feels weightless, eyes heavy, and he opens them to watch as you roll over on the bed, on your back with your legs parted, showing him and the camera the mess you’ve made.

Zayne’s cock twitches back to life at the thought of cleaning you up with his tongue.

Before he closes the video, he watches till the end. Stares at the way you slowly come back down to earth, sleepily stretching and grinning at the camera, voice hoarse, “Thank you, doctor,” you giggle, before the screen goes black, and Zayne is left to stare at his sweaty, fucked out expression in the reflection.

“Fuck,” He says.

[sageivyreads]

harmless beast

Poly 141!/Fem!Puppy hybrid!Reader

introduction: hi its me again! i kinda hate this but i wanted to post something for 130 followers! thank you! 6.2k words. most of this is proofread, for the rest i wish u luck. 1st half is backstory, 2nd half is smut. i was dying to finish this so i could focus more on smth else so bare with the messiness. all 141 is mentioned but smut is focused on gaz/soap/r. same universe as this but technically more related as a prequel then part 2. reader is a hybrid but only has ears and a tail. disclaimer: i have no knowledge of the military or accents lol. everything is for plot convenience thank you and hope you enjoy!

contains/warnings: smut 18+!!, age gap (reader is early 20s, Price early 30s, Ghost late 20s, Soap and Gaz mid 20s), light daddy kink (Price), spit, fingering, polyamory, handjob, light nipple play, coming inside (not mentioned but r has bc implant), p in v penetration, 3-some, slight allusions to hyper sexual reader, reader is left in the dark a lot and kind of babied, Ghost is a little mean to r, no mention of size or race but reader is a woman who wears a dress and has hair long enough to run your fingers through.

Three weeks. Three weeks you’d gone without Soap, Gaz, and Ghost. You wish it were harder to admit you missed them. It’s not normal to get attached so quickly. You’d only been with them about a month before they’d gone on their first assignment. It was hard to not be sad.

Price said he’d only tell you when he knew for a fact they were coming home. He knew you’d be too anxious for their arrival to the point you wouldn’t be able to sleep. So, when he gets a call from them right before bed that they’d be getting home, he decides not to tell you. He takes you straight to bed, lets you cuddle up into his arms, and waits for the chaos in the morning.

You normally alternated between sleeping in Price’s bed, Gaz’s, or Soap’s. They had their own separate little area of the base sectioned off once you were introduced. A tiny common room attached to something that could just barely be called a kitchen, a bathroom, and two bedrooms. Each one had two beds. One room with Ghost and Price, one room with Gaz and Soap.

The 141 and the rest of that base’s staff had been told you were a danger to other people. If anything, they’d rather the four of them be at risk than the entire base. But you couldn’t be that bad, could you?

No, you’d turned out to be an annoying little sweetheart. They’d known that after you failed ninety percent of your drills, tests, and quizzes, and avoided any type of confrontation. Zero kill drive, they’d eventually learnt after your dozenth fail. You were supposed to be a vicious, powerful dog hybrid. They’d received an overgrown puppy.

The team was told by the higher-ups that they’d have to keep you for a while longer, considering there was no more transferring you when they were supposed to be your final placement. You’d aged out of the facility. That’s why you were here.

The facility was built a little after hybrids were manufactured. Once they’d realized what a tool for the military that hybrids could be. Meant to raise the artificially made hybrids from ages ten months and up and turn them into soldiers. Teach them combat, fieldwork, and how to use weapons. Scientifically made to obey orders and be raised as soldiers.

The 141 had no idea what they were doing over at the facility, but whatever they had raised wasn’t a soldier. You were clueless. Confused. A little dumb, even, in social aspects. It wasn’t your fault they weren’t competent enough to teach you how to use the stove.

After you’d been with them for about a month and even Ghost had started to tolerate you, they’d finally gotten news of a new placement for you. You’d aged out of the facility, regular civilian life was made for no hybrid, and other task forces wouldn’t take you after what they’d heard. So, where else was there to go?

Front lines, they said. No, they were taking you to an underpaid, under-regulated, isolated Space Force unit. The lowest-ranked branch throughout this entirety military. But they didn’t focus on space, did they? This particular unit had teamed up with an EOD* unit considering the amount of unused acres they had.

Everyone there was glorified test dummies, specially created for soldiers with one too many loose screws to test their bomb diffusing skills. While the space force spent their time pretending they were above board and everyone was getting their work done, they were blowing up fields.

They were apparently the only place willing to take you. Doesn’t sound so bad, right? Hybrids could be useful in sniffing out explosives. But they were ecstatic for your arrival. Excited. Urging. Practically foaming at the mouth for a compliant hybrid that no one cared about enough about to check if you lived or died.

Price wouldn’t be able to fucking live with himself if he left some defenseless, pretty little puppy to get blown up under the guise of ‘testing’.

(He didn’t realize it, but he’d been won over the moment he saw your picture tucked into the file he’d been given on you. Your sweet smile with those pointy little canines. You could charm a snake with one flash of teeth.)

He’d been working with you for a little over four weeks before the boys left and he’d found you could barely take care of yourself. Clumsy, naive, unknowing of what was outside of the facility.

He declined and insisted they’d keep you before even having a chance to discuss it with the rest of his team. No, he’d figure out something to do with you. He was told the other base was disappointed they wouldn’t be receiving you, but Price had pulled enough strings to know they’d never hear your name again.

That was just a few days ago. They were already having a hard time getting adjusted. Having to teach you bloody everything. He’d eventually have to figure out a way to gently tell the boys they were keeping you. But when he saw your excited, smiling face when you saw the returning boots of Gaz, Ghost, and Soap at the door, he knew he couldn’t have decided to leave you in their greedy paws.

You’d woken up to Price getting ready. Compared to the rest of them being so stealthy, Price was loud in the mornings. It was dark and you were still so sleepy, you didn’t even see Ghost asleep in the bed next to where you’d slept.

It’s only when you’ve brushed your teeth and done your morning routine that you wander out into the common areas. Clad in a new dress that Price bought you for good behavior during a meeting. You follow Price aimlessly out into the kitchen, watching as he plugs in the coffee machine. Your eyes scan the area absently as you lean against the counter, focus landing on three pairs of dirty combat boots by the door.

“They-“ you squeak, voice turning all high pitched with excitement as you turn towards a messy-haired Price at the bar in the kitchen. Your tail beats against the backs of your thighs.

“Easy,” he grunts. He knows where this is going. He slips from his stool to grab the warm bread currently popping from the rusty toaster. “Just got back late last night. Let them sleep in, yeah? It was a hard one.” he says, voice deep with sleep as he slips two onto his plate and another two on yours.

You’re already practically vibrating with excitement. You try to urge your tail to stop causing a fuss behind you. It doesn’t work. You curl your hands around the fabric where your dress ends, mid-thigh. You squeeze until staying quiet isn’t nearly as painful. You swallow. “Y-yeah. Makes sense.” you try, voice coming out a little hoarse.

“You’ll see ‘em later. Gotta let ‘em sleep and eat, and then you can jump all over them.” His gaze is still focused on the food as he plops the last few fresh blueberries throughout the base onto your plate. He knows you love them.

The coffee machine dings, signaling it’s finished its job. He pushes your plate towards you as he takes a long sip from his coffee. A first of many. “Plus, you’ll be busy. Gotta help me with my paperwork, remember?”

You nod, stiff and forced. You want to whine. Storm right back into their rooms and hug them so tightly your knuckles turn white. But you don’t. Price has been teaching you about obedience. Listening even when you don’t want to. You’re not a fan.

You didn’t even help with his paperwork. You just stayed in his office, did puzzles sometimes when he could find one for you, and cuddled into his lap when he let you. But, you agreed.

Only that with the prospect of seeing the others later, you wouldn’t be able to stay still. Even during breakfast. Surely not when you’re cooped up in his office. Not when he has no puzzles, can’t have you in his lap right now, is taking too many phone calls to talk, is unable to take you out for a walk around the fields, or is even available to give you an ounce of attention.

He’d even brushed you off when you tried to slip between his thighs, bare knees against the carpet, refusing to look down at you.

You can’t stay still. You need something to do. Even as you shuffle around the room, prod at metals and picture frames, and flop from one chair to another, he doesn’t seem to mind. Not when you drag a chair across the room to get a good look at something high on the walls. Not when you huff and puff to yourself.

It’s when you’re tidying some pens you accidentally knocked on the floor that you notice one of the drawers to his filing cabinet is slightly ajar. Weird. He always has those locked. You settle onto your knees in front of the drawers a few feet away from his desk.

You peek over to see if he’s watching once, or twice. Still hyper-focused on the papers in front of him if the wrinkle between his brow tells you anything. You quietly open it and just when your gaze falls on a file titled with your name, suddenly Price is just as stealthy as the rest of them.

The drawer is closed by a large hand appearing in front of you. Your head snaps up as Price stands over you and you gape at him as he tells you, “Nothin’ in there for you, little one.” while he slips the key into the hole and locks it.

You don’t even bother apologizing when you’re so pent-up right now. Your tail falls limp behind you. You furrow your brows as you glance up at him, slumping back onto your heels into a sitting position. “Why not? What’s in there?”

He can barely resist the urge to roll his eyes. “Get off the damn floor,” he sighs and leans down to grip your biceps, pulling you up to stand. You let him, but you’re not very cooperative.

“Fine. You really want something to do?” he asks and doesn’t finish until you hesitantly nod. He walks back over to his desk to grab his nearly empty coffee mug and brings it over to you. “Get me some more coffee and yourself… some fuckin’ juice or somethin’, alright?”

You frown slightly. Seriously? That’s what he wants you do to? I guess.. it’d be better for you to take a moment. Even if it was just a short walk back to your common room, he seemed pretty frustrated with you.

You feel a little bad. But not enough to apologize when you were frustrated with him, too. “Fine,” you huff, grabbing the cup from him and turning around as you walk back toward the door.

The walk back to the kitchen is maybe 60 seconds. Your eyes are down the whole time, paying attention to your steps, the floor creaking under your weight. You open the door to the common room and shut it behind you, going straight to the kitchen.

You pop one of the coffee pods in the machine and start it up again after you put the mug in, leaning against the counter as you hear it come to life. You pick at a cuticle at the edge of your nail while your sharp canines dig into your bottom lip absently.

“Love? That you?”

Your ears perk, your head snaps up and your spine straightens. A bright smile takes over your lips as your eyes land on Gaz walking out of the bathroom in a grey tee and blue shorts. You can feel your tail beat over the back of your thighs as you rush over to him. You slam straight into his chest, completely missing the bandage around his upper arm and shoulder, just missing his quiet groan.

Your arms wrap around him tightly, burrowing your nose into the crook of his neck under his ear.

Just right. Just what you needed.

He lets out a pained chuckle, arms slowly coming around you.

“Mmm… missed me?”

You nod wildly, head bobbing up and down and knocking against his chin. One of his hands slides down your back, gliding against the soft material of your dress until his hand settles in the curve of your lower back. He tilts his head until his lips are by your ear, “Daddy get you a new dress?”

You repeat your nod, pulling back until you can see his face. Your hands slide up his shoulders to cup the sides of his neck of his neck as your eyes flick over his face. He looks mostly uninjured besides a tiny split on the edge of his jaw. He always told you not to worry about it. While you tried not to, you couldn’t control every single one of your thoughts. “…Yeah. Do you like it?”

“‘Course I do,”

His lips quirk up into a smile that you return while his hands slide down to cup your ass. He pulls you a little closer until you’re back up against his chest and you’ve risen onto your tippy toes. Pulls you until your breasts flatten against his chest and his hand cups the side of your neck with his thumb under your jaw.

He tilts your chin up enough that he can kiss you, his lips slightly chapped against yours. His other hand’s fingers dig into the flesh of your cheek, giving a firm squeeze. It’s slow and soft at first, but you can feel the tension bubbling beneath the surface. He pries your lips open with his tongue, running it along your teeth before slipping fully inside to join yours.

You hum happily into his mouth, massaging your tongue against his before he slips away. Tilts your chin to the side with his thumb to give him the access he needs to kiss along your jaw. “You look.. fuckin’ lovely, baby.” he rasps, lips wet with a mixture of yours and his saliva as he drags his kisses down to your neck.

You dig your teeth into your lower lip to not smile *too* wide, feeling warmth rise on your cheeks. “Thanks,” is all you can squeak with the sudden shyness slipping up your spine and grasping around your brain. You can feel something stiff against your thigh.

Your ears twitch as the coffee machine beeps. He nearly rolls his eyes. Great fuckin’ timing.

You start to lean away, slowly releasing your grip on him. “Kyle… I gotta finish John’s coffee. I promised.”

He groans, letting his head fall back. He huffs and gives you a quick squeeze before he eventually releases you. You turn and make your way over to one of the higher cabinets. It creaks open as you reach up, grabbing a gray mug and watching as a tanned hand comes around you to pluck it from your grasp. He sets it on the table, sliding it out of your arms length as you reach for it.

“Kyle!” You whine, unable to turn to look at him with the way he presses up against your back. He places his hands on each side of your waist, pressing his warm chest tight against your back.

“I know, I know.”

You huff.

“My pretty girl..” he mumbles under his breath as he runs his hands up and down your sides. Before you can think to respond, he’s kissing you again. One hand to turn your jaw towards him and one on your waist while he holds you still to shove his tongue down your throat. You can barely keep up. It’s only morning, but.. you missed him, too.

His head ducks down over your shoulder to pepper kisses along your exposed collarbone.

“Need you,“ he whispers. All you’ve done at this point is blink, and he’s pinned you against the counter.

He buries his face into the crook between your neck and shoulder, hands gliding up your front to cup your breasts through the fabric of your dress. You don’t even stiffen. You’re just surprised at how quickly he’s moving things along. He’s acting like he’s intoxicated.

But you’d be a little desperate to have something soft and pretty after weeks of hard work, no?

His thumb brushes over where he assumes your nipple would be. His mouth waters. Something’s buzzing in his ears. Howling.

“Need to fuck you. Please. Need to touch you so bad, love. Will you let me?”

You shiver as his nose runs along the curve of your neck until he’s nudging at your jaw. “Yeah,” you whisper like it’s some poorly kept secret of how badly you need each other. His hips grind against your ass from behind and he groans, hips giving an involuntary buck before he’s quickly reaching down to push the skirt of your dress above the swell of your ass.

He can already feel himself stiffening in his trousers. He needs you. “Yeah, you missed me too. Right, baby?” he asks, placing a kiss on your neck before he moans at the sight of your half-bare bottom only partially covered by the edges of your underwear.

He uses one hand to gently pin your fluffy tail to your right hip to keep it out of the way. You lean forward slightly, bracing your hands on the cold counter. “Yes- Yes, I missed you, Kyle.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek to restrain himself as his free hand comes around your front to dip under the band of your underwear. He inhales sharply as his fingers cup over your cunt beneath your underwear. Soaking wet like always, he finds. “Fuck, she needs me real bad, doesn’t she?” he breathes quietly.

You whine as his middle finger slips between your slit to gently rub against your clit. His finger glides easily with the slick provided by your needy body. Your breath is too shaky for you to attempt to speak. He rubs precise circles around your bud to coax even more slickness from your body, increasing the pressure until your thighs shake.

“Oh, God,” you cry, head falling forward between your shoulders. He adds a second finger, rubbing firmly with two now. “That feel nice?” he asks, breath rushing over your shoulder. He rests his chin there while he presses a little tighter against you from behind. He’s so fucking hard, it nearly hurts. Five more minutes and it might.

“Y-Yeah,” you answer, voice coming out choked and rushed. It feels better than good. You can feel shockwaves of pleasure spreading out from between your thighs, over your stomach, and down your legs. “Can you?-“ you cut yourself off with a moan as a single finger of his presses inside you, your jaw falling slack.

“Yes,” you groan, tongue feeling numb in your mouth. A few pumps of his finger have your thighs clenching together, one hand slipping from the counter and reaching behind you. You just want to touch him, even if you can’t see him. You grasp his hip with little finesse, nails biting into his skin.

“Mm.. just like that, huh? Want another? Shit, you’re so warm, baby. So soft. Just for me.” he pants, chest rising and falling against your back.

You nod and straighten a little to push your ass back against him. His hand, which has been gliding up and down your waist, shifts to grip your hip tightly while he hisses. You mewl as he adds a second finger, palm grinding against your clit.

“Easy, love. Be good. Know I won’t hurt you. Gotta be gentle, take our time.” he confirms, turning his head to bury his nose behind the line of your jaw.

“Need you now,” you moan as his fingers curve inside of you to brush against something that makes you throb. You push back against his fingers, craving more. Needing more. “Won’t hurt so bad. You’ve done enough. Just let me have you now. Please, Kyle.”

“Fuck,” he exhales, squeezing his eyes shut briefly. Almost to ward off the ache. Yeah, he was lying to himself earlier. What’d he say, five minutes? It’s hardly been two and he can feel his cock pulsing painfully against his thigh. “Yeah, I’ve got you. I’ll take care of you.”

He shoves your panties down your thigh and gently pushes at your low back until you bend over enough to let him ruck your dress over the swell of your ass. You’re bent halfway, your palms flat against the counter. He carefully grips your tail to push it aside once more. He lets go briefly to push his blue shorts and black boxers down his thighs, not even bothering to take them all the way off. No, you were much more important.

He grips your hips while using both thumbs to keep the fabric up as he positions himself behind you. “Ready?” he huffs, his voice so husky and deep you were almost worried he had a sore throat. You nod and the glans of his head nudge against your entrance before slowly pushing in.

Your jaw slowly drops open as he presses inside, gently stretching you open just right so that the hinges of your skull ache. You’re suddenly stunned into silence. Normally, to put it bluntly, you talked a lot. You loved learning about people. Especially people hard to learn about like the 141 boys. But now, it seemed like Gaz was awfully interested in exploring the internal parts of you.

Gaz slides a little deeper as you whine. It stings, but not too bad. Not when you’re so fucking wet. “Still alright?” he confirms, warm breath brushing over your cheek. His hips are flush with yours now and he feels burning hot against you. Inside you. “Mhm.” you hum shakily, not quite trusting your vocal cords to pronounce your words enough to be heard.

There’s a sound of creaking wood that comes from the doorway. Your ears perk. Both of your chins suddenly tilt up in that direction to see a sleepy, grinning Soap. Wearing only grey boxers. The slight crease between your brows softens and you smile. “I knew you two were gettin’ up to somethin’ without me,”

You feel Gaz’s lips split into a grin against the heated skin of your cheek. “Just started. Still plenty of time for you to join,” he says breathlessly as he pulls his hips back just enough to carefully thrust them forward. You jolt slightly, hand leaving him to grip over his on your hip.

A whimper slips from your lips. You pant, the front of Gaz’s thighs sticking to the back of yours from the accumulated sweat. “Johnny,” you whine, nearly reaching out toward him but opting not to with the fear you’d collapse.

Soap’s smile turns a little softer as he approaches, but the length between his legs certainly does not. You moan as Gaz starts up with a slow rock against your ass, feeling sweat start to prick the skin of your neck and armpits. He groans quietly in your ear.

Soap walks until he’s on the opposite side of the counter you were pressed up against. It wouldn’t take much to reach him.

“Fuck, ye look so wrecked,” Soap chuckles with his lips opened in a grin, smoothing your hair back with his hand. Gaz smiles behind you but your lips turn into a pout. Did you seriously look that bad? I mean, you knew sex wasn’t pretty, but you looked so bad he described you as ‘wrecked’?

Soap quickly notices the way your shoulders tense slightly, a light wrinkle between your brows. “No, no, I only mean in a good way, lovely. Wasnae bein’ mean to ya. You look as pretty as ever, baby.” he coos, pinches your left cheek between his fingers, and leans forward to press a kiss to your right.

You huff, but you let your guard down easily around them. Soap wouldn’t say something like that and mean it poorly, could he? No, you trust them.

Your hand leaves Gaz’s hand at your hip to grab Soap’s retreating one, pressing his palm against your cheek. “I missed you,” you sigh, but it more or less trails off into a groan as Gaz’s thrusts get a little firmer.

One of Gaz’s hands slips up from your hip to tug the right strap of your dress down, then reaches forward to tug the cup of the fabric down until one of your breasts is free. Your hand slides back to the edge of the counter.

Gaz and Soap both share a groan as their eyes flick down, Gaz’s chin on your shoulder as his hand firmly squeezes the flesh. “Ah’ ken ya did. But I’m sure Price took good care of you, yeah?” Soap purrs, his hand moving to the left strap to tug it down your chest as well.

The whole front of your dress slips down, revealing your front. Gaz huffs and puffs warm breath against the side of your neck, thumb, and pointer gently plucking at your nipple as his hips thrust against yours.

Soap’s eyes briefly flick down to the slick mess between your thighs. Gaz slid between them, penetrating you, not bothering to even pull all the way out before he punched in with another slow thrust. You’re so wet. So willing and eager, your hole just swallows him up.

You moan at every entrance and exit, not bothering to quiet your noises. Not when Soap and Gaz love them so much.

Your attention is vaguely brought back to Soap as one of his hands cradles your cheek.

“C’mere,” His thumb wiggles its way into your mouth, hooking behind your bottom teeth and tugging a little until your chin is tilted towards him and your jaw is open. He looms above you, much taller than you with the way you’re leaning forward.

You’re a little confused. Is he going to stick his tongue in your mouth? You’re blinking up at him, face scrunched in confusion, mouth open. You flinch slightly at the sound of him spitting while your eyes instinctively close.

Suddenly, there’s something warm and wet in your mouth. Your eyelids flutter open, and all you can do is moan at the sight of saliva dripping from his mouth into yours.

Gaz’s voice joins yours as you moan, peering over your shoulder to watch the way Soap spits, waits for you to swallow, and then presses your lips together. You mewl into his mouth, one hand coming up to cling onto his bicep as Gaz gets a little rougher behind you.

His tongue slips inside your mouth, massaging against your own, licking against your teeth as if to memorize your taste. “Fuck, baby.” he moans as he pulls away to pant against your lips, eyebrows scrunching together.

You’re almost in awe at how he could be so worked up by just a kiss.

There’s a slick clicking noise between you. Your eyes flick down to see Gaz’s hand stuffed in his boxers, wrapped firmly around Soap’s cock. You hadn’t even noticed that his hand had left your chest.

Your fuzzy eyes are transfixed on the sight. Blurry from the vision in front of you and the cock inside of you. Watching the way Gaz slides his hand up, tightening and twisting around the head while Soap shudders and his upper body lurches forward. His hands turned into fists against the counter, head hanging between his shoulders as his chest heaved.

“Fuckin’ hell, Gaz…”

Gaz seems to notice your interest, his hand pumping twice more before lifting off. “You wanna try a go, love?” Your face is flushed with heat. Not from embarrassment. Arousal. You look over to see his chin on your shoulder, his heated gaze flicking between your eyes and lips. You nod.

He smiles, and your hand on Soap’s bicep slips down to support you against the counter once more. Gaz takes your dominant hand and slowly curls your fingers into a fist around the base of Soap’s cock. His fingers fit in between the gaps of yours. Soap’s lips purse as Gaz starts slowly dragging your hand up and down.

Your lungs pause for a moment. He’s hot. Burning hot between your fingertips. He feels different than you expected, honestly. The skin is soft.

Soap’s eyes are focused on the sight of both your hands working around him as Gaz gets you to a solid pace. He then exits his hand to grip your waist, fucking into you a little harder. You moan, hand fumbling a little without his before tightening your grip to do it on your own. And eventually, a little faster.

“Fuuuck… Yeah, jus’ like that. Mm..” Soap moans, his hand wrapping around yours to guide you and make your grip a little tighter. Gaz picks up the pace, one hand tight on your hip and the other on your waist to support you during his roughening thrusts.

You can feel the beginnings of a fire stirring in your lower belly, sparks begging to be caught and ignited. Your hearing is going a little fuzzy, brain struggling to choose a sense to focus on. Soap’s hips pump into your joined hands, his hips twitching as he chases the pleasure.

Soap abruptly pulls your fingers off to spit into your palm before bringing it back to his cock, whining about the slick, warm feeling of your hand around him. He tightens his grip around yours, forcing you to pick up your pace before he releases you to do it as you’d like.

Gaz’s thrusts start to run a little wild, his short fingernails digging lightly into your flesh. “*Fuck*- Fuck, I’m gonna come.” he groans, lips brushing against the skin of your shoulder.

“Bleedin- ahhh, shit. ‘m close too.” Soap stutters out, shoulders hunching as his other hand supports him against the counter to help fuck his pelvis into your fist. his free hand reaching out to grab Gaz by the back of his neck. He leans forward, smashing his lips against his. You think you hear some connection to teeth through the moans, but neither of them seem to care.

It’s a filthy display of tongues and spit, and neither of them really seem to care about the mess. Soap pulls away briefly after a moment, both of their bodies gasping for air. “Come for us, Gaz.” he whispers, lips brushing and neck and face flushed with arousal.

You’d say you’re disappointed by not being able to come with him if he weren’t so goddamn beautiful. The way he chokes on his noises, forehead leaning against Soap’s as his cock jerks inside you. He’s always so warm when he’s inside you, burning liquid dripping out around where he’s penetrated you. Oh, and hot on the outside too.

Soap can’t help but follow, his hand leaves the counter to practically choke your hand around his cock as he stammers, “Oh, fuckin’, ohhhh God.” He moans louder than he probably should, even with our living space blocked off from the rest of the base.

Gaz’s thrusts start to slow to a stop, Soap’s hips jolting and stuttering in their movements until his spend drips over yours and his fingers. It’s silent for a moment, Soap slowly releasing your hand off his cock, just to snatch it up in his own and bring it to his mouth.

He drags his tongue over a dribble of come on your finger, humming at the taste. His eyes are half-lidded when they lock with yours and you think all your internal organs pause for a moment or two.

With heavy breaths in the air, Gaz slowly pulls out. He stays pressed up against you, loosening his grip, and rubbing his hands up and down your sides. “Sorry, baby,” he murmurs, kissing your shoulder. “Lemme make it up to you.”

“It’s.. it’s okay,” you pant, a little delirious.

By the time Soap lets go of your hand, it’s no longer wet with his spend, but instead his spit. Gaz’s fingertips slip between your thighs once more, gently rubbing over your sore slit. A whimper slips from your throat and you cling to his tan forearm as he slowly dips two fingers inside of you.

“My pretty baby,” Soap croons, cupping your cheek with his dry hand and running a thumb along the skin. “We could never forget about ya, sweet thing.”

He leans in to give a short, sweet kiss to your lips. His other hand, slightly wet, cups the soft flesh of your tit in his big hand. His thumb and pointer pluck at your nipple until you whine, which is when he then ducks down to suck the swollen bud into his mouth.

You were already getting close before Gaz came and now you were practically hurtling towards the edge. Gaz keeps a slow pace at first, rubbing firmly at your clit with his thumb while his fingers pump inside of you. One of your hands claws at Gaz’s forearm, the other still supporting you against the edge of the counter.

“Johnny,” you whine as Gaz pumps his fingers a little faster, his hand squeezing your side once before his hand comes up to pinch at your neglected breast. Soap grazes his teeth against you before briefly pulling away, “Not the name you should be moanin’, sweetheart.”

You lean back onto Gaz, head falling against his shoulder. “Kyle..” you moan, the new position leaving your other hand free. It comes up to the back of Soap’s head, holding him to you. You can feel the way he smiles against your nipple.

“Hm? You close?” he teases, nose brushing against your ear. “Uh-huh,” you nod, mouth ajar. Your eyes flutter closed as warmth spreads into your lower stomach, building and building. He keeps a steady pace with his fingers, but you jolt slightly when you feel a second hand between your legs.

You look down to see Soap’s thumb rubbing firmly against your clit, pointer finger lifting your hood. Almost too firmly with the way your back arches off Gaz’s chest and a guttural noise is ripped from your throat. Your toes curl in your shoes, heels nearly lifting off the floor.

“F-Fuck!” you suddenly cry as a wave of pleasure slams into you, nearly shoving you out of your body. Your vision goes white. By the time your eyes lazily reopen, Soap is standing in front of you, chuckling.

Gaz smiles against your shoulder. You’re too busy blinking away the fuzziness at the corners of your vision and too focused on the slick and come dripping onto your thighs.

“Who knew all you needed was a good orgasm to finally curse?”

“I could’ve guessed.” Gaz helpfully adds from behind you. You smile.

“Sod off.” Soap grumbles, leaning off the counter and cringing at the stickiness of the fake marble. And his hands. And thighs. And basically everywhere. At some point, you’d started slumping over, and Gaz gently laid you down. “Easy, easy,”

Your chest was flat against the cool counter while your panting breaths puffed against it. Your eyes flutter shut while the wave of pleasure washes over you and leaves with a twinge in your abdomen as a goodbye.

You don’t even twitch as a pair of footsteps approach. You blink. Your ears twitch. When’d the door open? Gaz slowly pulls off of you. He brings your panties up your thighs once more, making sure they’re secure around you with one hand as the other flips your dress back down. You cringe as you feel the fabric immediately start to dampen.

You vaguely hear him pull his boxers and shorts back up before he rubs a hand along your back. “You alright?” he asks, still sounding a little breathless. He brings your dress back up your torso, slipping the straps back over your shoulders.

You nod after a moment, nearly jolt as your eyes land on a dark figure in the room. You recognize it. Him. He appears like a Ghost. You swallow to soothe your dry throat, watching with furrowed brows as he takes a few more steps until he’s right in front of the counter you’re bent over.

His shoes are squeaking against the floor. There are sprinkles of water on the shoulders of his hoodie. He’s in his usual running attire, which he must’ve just come back from, and you’d guess it was probably raining, too.

He’s not wearing his mask. You try your best not to gape as your eyes flick over his features. His hair is darker than you thought it’d be. His eyelashes are normally smudged in coal, but they’re blond right now.

Ghost is not… particularly attractive. I mean, you think he’s pretty. You think the other boys do, too. But by conventional Western beauty standards, he’s not a top model.

Ugly, mean scars are across his entire body and face. There’s a tiny cleft on his upper lip. His shoulders are always tensed up to his ears. Not to mention the scowl he always seems to wear. Even with the mask on.

You can always seem to sense when he’s glaring at you. He doesn’t seem to be happy with you often. But if some random clueless puppy joined your military task force, you wouldn’t be either.

You’re yanked out of your head by his hand raising to pinch one of your spaghetti straps before letting it snap back to your skin. You flinch. If he notices, he doesn’t care.

“When’d you get this little number?”

His voice is raspy like he’d just woken up. But you’d guess he’s been awake for a few hours. He’s not even in boxers or PJs. You’re not sure if you can even imagine him sleeping in anything besides daytime clothes, though.

“Daddy.. Daddy took me out shopping. While you guys were gone.”

Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth. It’s slow to catch up. You don’t bother asking for approval or opinion. He won’t give it to you. He grunts as he starts walking away, still in your line of sight as he pulls the now cold coffee mug out of the machine to replace it with his own mug.

“You lot need to be more quiet. Price came pokin’ around looking for her. And ‘e’s half deaf. Take it to a room next time.”

Shit, Price.

You all have the same response, but yours is much quieter.

“Sorry, LT.”

notes: this is literally my third time ever writing smut and first writing penetrative sex so PLEASE have mercy 🙏 . if you know nothing of the military like me, *EOD means Explosive Ordnance Disposal which is a branch of the military and basically i think they deal with and diffuse explosives. there probably won’t be any more parts to this. also i still can’t force myself to like this much for some reason so im probably gonna disappear off tumblr for a bit 😞 love you guys!

tags: @other-fandoms-reblogs

[s4nniebe4r]

the roommate

part one: the lease

pairing: roommate! san x fem! reader

synopsis: a mutual friend suggests you and choi san, of all people live together

wc: 1.2k

tags: slow burn, roommates, enemies to lovers, angst, forced proximity, eventual romance

etc: this fic is brought to life in a conversation i had with a close friend lol. this fic is going to span a few chapters, so be aware of that… no regular updates, but hopefully i can get them out fairly soon. as always, this isn’t proofread!

next part

The second Seonghwa brought it up, you both shut it down. 

“You two should room together.”

You nearly choke on your drink. “Absolutely not.”

He, on the other hand, doesn’t even look up from his phone. “Yea, no thanks.”

Seonghwa blinks at you both, clearly confused by the immediate and mutual rejection. “Okay, well you didn’t have to say it like that.”

It’s not that the idea in itself is inherently terrible—logistically, it makes sense. Seonghwa knows you’re both struggling to get to the final place before the semester starts, and the rental market is a nightmare. But the problem is that Choi San is insufferable. 

Your first impression of him had been nothing short of hellish. Maybe it was the way he barely spared you a glance, as if you weren’t worth more than a second of his time. Or the way that he was just a little too blunt, like he couldn’t be bothered to soften his words for the sake of basic social norms. Or maybe it was how, in that first conversation, he had looked at you—sharp, and knowing, as if he had already decided you weren’t worth the effort. Whatever it was, it grated on your nerves immediately. And judging by the way San hadn’t exactly extended the welcome mat either, the feeling was mutual. 

The first conversation still lingers in your mind. You had met at some house party Seonghwa dragged you to, already regretting your decision the moment you stepped inside. San had been standing near the drinks, eyes scanning the room like he had a better place to be. You had barely introduced yourself before he cocked his head, and asked, “You always act this strange, or just tonight?”

It was meant to be a joke. Maybe. But it sent your irritation through the roof. “Wow. Charming.”

San has just smirked, sipping his drink. “Didn’t say I was. Just curious.” With that he strolled away, but not before you could hear him mutter the words what a weirdo under his breath. 

And that was the beginning of your mutual distaste. 

So no, you are not going to be his roommate. 

A month ago, you would have laughed at the idea of living with San. Back then, you had standards. Preferences. Hopes. A list of potential roommates who weren’t actively infuriating. But as time passed and each option fell through—rents too high, locations too inconvenient, roommates too unreliable—you started to realize that standards were a luxury you couldn’t afford anymore. 

It has become a pattern: refreshing apartment listings every morning, scrolling through rental groups, sending out hopeful messages only to be met with astronomical prices or ghosting. At first, you were picky. Then you were just desperate. 

Seonghwa had been the first to suggest it, of course. More than once. And you ignored him every time, even when the options were thinning, even when you knew you were starting to run out of time. But after yet another overpriced studio slipped through your fingers once more, you made the mistake of asking, “So… has he found a place yet?”

Seonghwa, always the opportunist, grinned through the phone. “Oh? Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

You grimaced. “Just answer the question.”

“No, he hasn’t. And you should talk to him before he does.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Why do you care so much?”

You could hear him take a quick sip of his coffee. “Because you two are both stubborn brats who need a place to live, and I’m tired of watching you struggle out of sheer pride.”

You wanted to argue, but… he wasn’t wrong. The idea still made you cringe though. Living with San? The same San who once told you to just get over it when you complained about a professor’s impossible grading during a group hangout. The same San who somehow always knew exactly what buttons to push and how without even much of a thought. 

Still, the reality of your situation was pressing down on you. 

You really, really didn’t want to. But practicality won out over pride, and that was how you now found yourself sending an excruciatingly awkward text. You wondered if it sounded desperate. 

you still looking for a place?

It took him two hours to respond. 

yeah. why?

You stared at your phone for a long moment, weighing your options. Every bone in your body wanted to tell him never mind, but you didn’t have that luxury anymore. 

i have an apartment lead. two bedrooms. rent isn’t awful. want to check it out?

San’s reply came quicker this time. 

sure. when? 

And just like that, your fate was sealed. It felt like you were making a pact with the devil. 

The apartment was fine… fine.

Nothing notable. Nothing terrible. Just, fine. 

The landlord was a woman in her late forties with minimal patience. She led the two of you through a quick tour. The kitchen that should really have been labeled as a kitchenette, was small, but functional. The bathroom had seen better days, but was clean enough. The bedrooms were on opposite sides of the unit—an unexpected blessing. If you were really going to do this, at least you wouldn’t have to hear him late at night in the next room. 

San, of course, was impossible to read. He wandered through the apartment with his hands remaining in his pockets, gaze flicking over each room with mild disinterest. Meanwhile, you were running frantic calculations in your head. The price wasn’t awful, the location was decent, and most importantly, this was your last option, you were out. 

"So?" the landlord asked, tapping her pen against the clipboard she held. "You in or not?"

You opened your mouth, ready to say yes, only to hesitate when San finally spoke. “Is there parking?”

You shot him a quick look. That was his question? Not about utilities, not about security deposits, but… parking?

The landlord sighed. “Street parking only. First come, first serve.”

San only hummed, nodding slightly before falling silent again. 

The landlord turned to you. “And you? Any questions?”

A thousand, but nothing would change the fact that you desperately needed this apartment. You shook your head. “No, I’m good, thank you.”

She clapped her hands together. "Great. Lease starts next week. If you’re both serious, we can do paperwork now."

There was a beat of silence. Then San shrugged. "Fine by me."

And that was it. 

So there you sat at the landlord's desk, pen in hand, staring at the contract in front of you. San was already in the midst of signing his copy, cool and composed as ever, like this was just another task to check off on his to-do list. Meanwhile, your stomach was knotting and twisting. This was real. You were actually doing this. 

You glanced at him, half-expecting some last-minute hesitation, some crack in his indifferent facade. But he just slid his finished paperwork back across the desk, tapping his fingers idly against the table, tapping his fingers idly against the table as he waited for you to finish. 

With a deep breath, you signed your name. 

The landlord smiled. “Congratulations. Hope you two get along.”

Neither of you responded. 

San tucked his copy of the lease into his bag, turning to you with an unreadable expression yet again. “Guess we’re doing this.”

You exhaled sharply, gripping your set of keys tightly. “Guess so.”

You already had a headache. 

[merakiui]

You just awoke something in me with those bug darling posts 😳

Now i gotta ask how does the whole pregnancy works? Like is it like the naga eggs with bug darling laying them and hatching them after a while or is it more like a regular human pregnancy or is it different. And do the babies take after they're very handsome dad (much to Jamil's horror)? I don't know anything but am so curious

I like to imagine it’s something where bug darling produces (unfertilized) eggs that remain in her womb (so almost like a baby in a human pregnancy) and needs someone to fertilize them (whether externally after she’s laid them or internally). Maybe then the bug babies will have features that mirror Jamil’s. Or maybe she can produce and lay eggs herself without the need for any of the above, but I love the idea of her eggs needing to be fertilized if she wants a successful clutch. >_< and she’s never had a mate, or if she has the attempts were mostly unsuccessful. No one wants her. :< all she wants is to be bug mama to her babies. And unfortunately for Jamil she is very taken by him. <3 she looks at him with stars in her (many) eyes hehe.

Maybe she tries to court Jamil, but he won’t have any of it. And he’s too terrified to even realize that all of this is courtship and not something straight from a horror movie LOL. He thinks you’re unhinging your jaw to kill him, but really you were just getting ready to give him the best sloppy blowjob of his life. >:)

Something something Jamil reaching an epiphany one day (probably the first time he experienced the glorious thing that is bug pussy) and he finds himself actually being seduced by bug darling. T_T meanwhile bug darling is just happily munching on the breakfast he prepared, absolutely clueless of his shifting feelings like :D Jamil is in agony, but our beloved girl remains unaware.

[olderthannetfic]

Aye...Hope this does not come off as shaming but I do not understand "kink is not inherently sexual" at all! I see it a lot in fandom and kink communities, but I don't get it, because to me kink is always a sex thing?

I wanna say I do RESPECT that, whatever it means, and when I say I don't understand I literally just mean that in the most actual meaning, that I don't understand! Maybe it's something as simple as a language barrier and I just dont get it, but honestly I'd rather ask here for clarification than google anything lol.

Like, does it mean that people like stereotypically kinky things for nonsexual reasons? Am thinking of Shibari practice in particular, which can often be nonsexual!

or does it mean "kinks" that don't inherently involve sex? Like things that are like -- I dunno, latex or leather? Which can be so very completely vanilla! But can also be sexy if that's what you're into.

Or is it more about asexual inclusion, even?

I'm asking to learn, not to bait - I feel there is an actual language and/or experience barrier here, and regardless of the meaning I WILL agree with "kink does not have to be sexual"! Like it is not me disagreeing, it is more so me... not understanding? It is I wanting to know what actually defines a non sexual kink? But only because of my understanding of the definitions of the words, not because of my beliefs, if that's makes sense?

For context, I literally only have one kink, and it is very very very vanilla and "soft"...I like praise lol. But I don't see nonsexual praise as kink. I just see it as compliments. So I'm wondering, how nonsexual kink works? Again, I wanna say I'm asking because I want to learn and be inclusive! Also I'm sorry if my message was worded weird or misinterpreted for any reason, my first language is Spanish, and while I grew up in an area that speaks enough English that I *almost* know it natively, I still very very struggle with conjugation, that on top of learning disabilities is very much a "wow what actually even IS proper grammar" issue for me lol.

--

Oh god, this again.

Yes, it's an asexual thing, basically. There are people who like kinks in a BDSM kind of way but not in a genitals touching kind of way. It's not like regular old praise. It's praise kink without fucking.

[poisonf0rest]

I saw the prof raf brainrot and now I have Thoughts about the others also being professors so uh I hope the shitty hc dump is ok

zayne is ostensibly a bio professor but I imagine he’d also be a good chem professor. like objectively the best one, takes everything seriously and pushes his students but doesn’t drop piles of work on them when midterm week rolls around, makes interesting labs, etc. everybody wants to work in his lab but like 4 people a term actually make it in

xavier is hard to think of but I feel like either astronomy (we all know why) or quantum physics (he can teleport) is his field. I hate to say he’s the worst prof but I just feel like he’s so much more into his research than teaching. notoriously hard courses but also very veeery interesting ones. I mean why pay tuition if you can’t get your brain melted by your phys prof

caleb is a mech eng prof, easy. curves grades and is very smiley, but leaves slightly sarcastic comments when grading your tests. and the tests themselves are probably pretty rigorous: not so difficult that everyone starts crying, but def very thorough. it’s fine tho cause you walk out of it with like a 94, a very very strong appreciation for the wonderful world of physics, and probably a godawful crush for the rest of the year

sylus is hard for me. I want to say literature. like his courses would hyperfixate on, idk, 18th century gothic lit. you’d go in with three pages worth of analysis on some obscure poem and then he’d systematically rip everybody apart, then you’d walk out a fundamentally changed person. But! For the purposes of humour, sylus is a CS prof (canonical programmer), which instantly drops any hotness factor he had by like 234322.

sorry sylus rip. sadly programming is the act of swearing at your screen at 2am while scouring the same 12 lines of code over and over for any kind of bug (you will find the actual source of the bug 100 lines down). not even he can make that cool

MHMMM ANON YOU'RE COOKING!!

Zayne is definitely an orgo professor-- everyone wants to hate him since they're failing his class and lab, but honestly he's just strict with the material and has little tolerance for error because error in the real world costs human lives. But should you come to his office hours with the intention to learn then you'll find he's actually a very patient, receptive, and likeable professor with an amusingly dry humor. Everybody definitely wants to work in his lab.

Absolutely agree with Xavier lol, his students hate him since he does NOT want to be there.

Caleb would be the type to answer stupid questions with a little more bite and subtle snark that makes any students who are actually paying attention snicker and hope not to get on his bad side. Would be the campus professor crush, no doubt.

HOW DARE YOU TALK DOWN ON CS PROFESSOR SYLUS- HEY, CS PEOPLE CAN BE HOT :( He absolutely would teach either machine learning or maybe game theory if not then a high level C++ class be so fr. He absolutely can make coding cool, if anything than for the fact that he has a stacked resume and single-handedly proving that you CAN be a CS major and still end up running your own company, marrying the love of your life right after college, and raising a happy family while still being a nerd. and taking more than regular showers

[curly-fry-3]

hey curly would love to see dean's daughter and uncle sammy interact!! wholesome goodness galore please!!

𖦹Bad Day𖦹

summary𖦹 Sam helps you cheer up from a bad day

pairing𖦹 Sam Winchester x Niece!Reader

word count𖦹 1,066

notes𖦹 ok I totally nerded out in the last half sorry if you don't care about batman lol hope you like it

not proofread

You were having a bad day, and your uncle Sammy knew it. He knew it would be rough for you before you even woke up, Dean wasn't gonna be home in time for your “weekly shred bedrotting time”-as you liked to call it. In fact, your dad wasn't gonna be home till the next day, his hunt taking longer than expected. So, it was no surprise to Sam when you came home from school all dejected. 

When you walked through the door of the bunker you immediately put your bag down and slipped your shoes off, not caring if they were in the middle of the walkway. “Sammy” you call out searching for a response. When you're met with silence you head to the kitchen to find something sweet, what a year today has been. 

You have your head in the fridge when you hear movement behind you and turn around to find your uncle making his way into the room. “Hey sammy” you say while shutting the fridge behind you.

“Hey kid, how was school” Sam responds

You roll your eyes and huff in annoyance, “you know, the worst”

He smiles at your answer, “you know, I could think of a couple ways to make your day better”

You lean against the counter with a questioning look “What are you gonna do, cause I could really go for some pie right now” 

He smiles knowingly “Well it's not pie, but i got some cake and ice cream”

Your face lights up, “you better not be joking”

“Why would I joke about this? That would just be cruel” He asks “I also got out the DVDs, you can pick what movie we watch”

You jump up from your position against the counter in excitement “Omg girls night”

He crosses his arms and gives you a look of confusion “Girls night?”

“Shut up and accept it” Your expression shifts to a playful smirk “if it's girls night can I braid your hair”

Sam pauses for a second “what?”

“Pleeeasseeee” you beg “ it's so much easier to braid someone else's hair and yours is so soft and long” You eagerly explain

He pretends to think it over “fine” 

You clap your hands together in excitement “yay! Ok so you get the desert ready and i'll get the tv on and the hairbrush out”

He smiles fondly at your excitement then agrees to your plan with a nod. While you left to set up in the Dean cave, Sam got to work at plating your sweet treats. He also prepared some regular food cause he knew you would want something savory after. He was glad you were so excited and that he was able to lift your mood, that's the whole reason he planned this. Sam didn't want you to have such a bad week, he could tell that Dean's absence was taking its toll on you–usually you two were attached at the hip.  

When he walked into the Dean cave, balancing multiple plates in his arms, You were waiting for him with the TV already on. He hands you your cake, setting aside your dinner, and sits on the couch next to you, looking up at the TV. “Lego Batman?” He asks with a smile

You look at him with a fake hurt expression “it is a cinematic masterpiece. Also I'm literally batman.”

He chuckles lightly “you literally aren't”

“Oh really, you can test me on this, im literally him” You say while picking up your spoon to dig into your cake

He puts his hands up in defence “ wow you want me to test you ok….ummm…name five robins”

You roll your eyes “that's easy; Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Stephenie, and Duke. Boom that's more than five, it's all of them” you finish with triumphantly taking a bite

He smiles smugly “your forgot one”

You look at him confused “no I didn't” you say with a stuffed mouth.

“Bruce's clone” He corrects

You swallow your food “That totally doesn't count”

Sam shakes his head in disagreement “oh, it totally does”

You roll your eyes and start the movie, accepting that you won't win this one. He lightly smiles at your defeat and turns to watch the movie. Before you both could lock in to the TV you turn back to sam and say “you're a nerd, and i'm still batman”

He turns to you and smiles “ok”

After that you both were silent throughout the film. When you were done with your dessert you had moved on to the dinner Sam had brought, claiming that the cake was too sweet,  just as he suspected you would. When you were done eating you had cuddled closer to Sam on the couch for the remainder of the movie, your knees to your chest and your head on his shoulder as his arm wrapped around the back of the couch.

After the movie You decided it was time to do sams hair. You forced him to sit on the ground in front of the couch as you got to work, sitting on the firm cousins behind him. “Thanks for this sammy” You say while separating his hair into sections.

He tries to look back at you to respond but you force his head forward so you can continue working on his hair. “For what?” He asks.

“I know you planned this night for me cause Dad isn't here, it's really sweet and I really liked it so, thanks” You answer

“Of course kid…You know, I really liked it two–even though lego batman isn't comic accurate” He teases

You sigh and continue to work on his hair, “ok that gets me a little frustrated too but the humor and homoerratic relationship between the joker and batman makeup for that”

You can feel him roll his eyes as he responds “whatever you say”

The night ends with you and Sam asleep on the couch, his hair braided, the TV left on, And dirty dishes left out. When Dean comes home the next morning and finds the state that you two are in he takes a couple (dozen) photos before waking you up and leading you back to your bed. Dean was sad he wasn't able to see you yesterday but if it meant that he would find you and Sam cuddled up like that, he would be ok doing it again.

sorry if there are any typos

@areswasneverhere

[always-is-always]

Are You Sure.... ep. 7

I'm a day late and a dollar short, as my dad would say.... Super late to the party for sure.

I literally just finished watching episode 7. Somehow back in September I had started it, and didn't finish. That is really unusual, and all I can think of is that it was probably because of that hurricane that we had here in the mountains that threw me off course... It took me weeks to feel normal again, post-Helene.

Sorry for that little off-topic ^^^

Okay, so I didn't realize that they had rented out a whole ski resort, for the day! I mean, that is crazy and who knows how much that cost Jimin and Jungkook. If you've ever done any downhill skiing, you know. It ain't cheap.

This may be one of my favorite episodes. Laughing with Jimin as he would attempt to move on the snowboard and fall, over and over and over and over again.... lol.... I mean, talk about determination. Even the most physically fit person would be exhausted by that!

I just loved it. I also loved seeing how free they were, in that experience. IYKYK. Skiing does that. It gives you a sense of freedom, even if you crash and burn multiple times. lol....

The other thing is that they were willing to do something that they aren't experts in. You know? They were not highly skilled, yet they gave it everything and showed us their efforts. That is humility. That is being real. That is being humans just having fun.

Folks focus on the couply stuff from the series, and that's cool. Throughout the entire series you get a clear sense of what they are to each other. It literally oozes from the screen at times.

For me, I'm also really taken by their silliness and their willingness to show us that as well. Maybe it is because I'm a goof at heart. I just love a good belly-laugh, right along with Jiminie and Junkookie. It is real. They are real....

In a perfect world they would be able to just be regular humans and do the things they want whenever they want... and, that isn't their reality. I hope that after June 11, that they are able to spend some time doing things in life that they simply enjoy. Without the invasion of privacy that can potentially happen at any moment, 24/7.

Hopefully we will get another "season" of AYS in the future. With just Jimin and Jungkook. I mean, I'm being honest here... lol... 💜

[ofpd]

do you have a les mis fic rec list 👀

yeah i am somehow able to make one which is insane bc i usually don't even read fic. the only time ive ever read this much fic before was when i was into atla which like. that was a hyperfixation strong enough to get me onto this website. exr has such an effect on me... (and yeah almost all of this is gonna be exr. naturally)

i assume you've read or at least heard of world ain't ready, but i'd be remiss not to mention it! the thing with this fic is that it's the ultimate exception to every preference i tend to have with exr fic—it's a modern au, it ends with them having a good, loving, requited, healthy relationship (and with them being alive), and it's often cheesy in a very fanfic way. and so i was really not expecting to enjoy it nearly as much as i did. like, i really really loved it. it's genuinely quite well-written with compelling characterizations and it really does an amazing job of fulfilling the need i sometimes have for them to just. be happy and alive and loving each other. it's possibly the fic i spend the most time thinking about.

the other long fic that i've been really into (i'd say it's probably my favorite les mis fic i've read) is beautiful & good. it starts off slow, but i promise the buildup is worth it. i really love the way in which their relationship is developed throughout—it always feels realistic, in character, and interesting. and it's just so enjoyable to read (and often very funny!), and there's always something new (or many things) that makes me go insane every chapter. it also is the most interesting fic i've read when it comes to them having sex & their characterizations wrt it. actually, the thing that compelled me to read this fic in the first place was a friend telling me that, at one point in it, enjolras says that penatrative sex isn't egalitarian. i really love when they're so insane....

i've actually read all of that author's les mis fics, and i don't remember there being a single one i disliked. but some favorites include epiphanies (woah crazy another modern au), the pursuit of light (the token non-exr fic on this list woah), in lutetia, and the loves of les amis.

another favorite is, of course, ta bouche de ciel by my bestie lucy @jondrettegirls <3. there are lots of things i love about it (which makes sense, like lucy and i are friends in part bc we have such similar tastes w this kind of thing) but one way in which it stands out is that it's the only fic i can think of that i've read that has examination of the concept of beauty as it relates to both normative cultural ideals and to exr as a prevalent theme.

and some other shorter fics i've really liked include thorns and all (which i found bc i was curiously looking through the exr hanahaki tag. this was the only one in it that i particularly enjoyed and oh my god. parts of it made me so insane), put to the sword (among other things in this fic, i love how weird r is about spirituality! just like me fr), and into the light (which is as close as any fic comes to being My ExR Canon tbh).

hope you enjoy!

[taffywabbit]

a different sort of hopping mammal than usual (for variety). and this one even comes with pockets, neato!

(expert aussie consultants have kindly informed me her posture is not NEARLY weird enough to facilitate proper kangaroo balance, so she's liable to tip onto her face at any moment and explode into one million pieces instantly. SAD. well, there are other critters)

[whaliiwatching]

a rendezvous beyond

and a halfway closeup just bc im rlly happy with how the bg turned out lol

[buwheal]

Hello, Spamton!

How's life? Also, do you have any opinions on the Addisons? (Pink, blue, orange, and yellow)

If so, what do you think of them?

[yuripira4e]

thinking about this one Superbat fic I read where they had to fake date or whatever but in it while they’re still in pre- relationship, they like fall asleep in the same bed, play games with their kids, and like shower while the other one is also in the bathroom and it’s like “oh yeah they’ve dealt with shit from crying into the others shoulder to literally trying to fuck each other during sex pollen episodes; there’s no world where they’re not the epitome of comfortable with each other even if they don’t think the other one returns their romantic feelings” and I just have to say I agree and I think about that hc at least once a week

[turtleblogatlast]

Combining the boys’ abilities (and I mean actual combining not just using them at the same time) because I was thinking about it and wow they’re kinda cracked actually-

[ cw: death mention / def not for them though 💀]

Raph & Mikey: infinite clones (aka unbeatable) + strength completely unparalleled + infinite cloned chains + the clones are very fast and can fly + potentially reverse any damage on main shield clones or even damage in general

Mikey & Donnie: constructs that also can last much longer than usual possibly forever + potential future vision + every single cable or wire or anything of that sort has the potential to be taken over akin to Mikey’s chains + full telekinesis

Donnie & Leo: pinpoint portal/teleportation themselves or constructs just by knowing where to aim (aka instadeath for any enemy if used right) + telepathy

Leo & Raph: teleporting clones who can grow or shrink at will (which can also be instadeath like above if used right) + said clones can also act as homing spots to switch places with + potentially swap damage taken to clones

Raph & Donnie: they literally can make Voltron, but more than one + basically impossible to destroy shields + constructs can also be cloned

Mikey & Leo: freezing time and being able to move during it + heat death of the universe + “oops hey it’s other alternate iterations of us???” + this is a time and space team up you’re not winning this-

Basically any combo is an instant “you win.” I wanna go further into these combos later and maybe even add or subtract as I think more on it because there’s so many I left out and I can always extrapolate on and explain these ones more, but this was fun and these boys have terrifying powers even without combining them all together.

Seriously, should each of them train these abilities to the best they can be, there is no beating them even if they’re alone.