#and hate you a little cause I still want you to write more books

[starshinedreamer]

Alrighty y'all, grab a chair and get comfy whilst I yap about my son, my pride and joy, the greatest thing to ever happen to me, my D&D OC: Raymond Foxwood. He is a Wood Elf Druid with the Researcher background and a Neutral-Good alignment (Images at the very end).

I haven't figured out what his voice sounds like yet. I'm thinking he may kind of have an accent? But like it's barely there. I do have an idea for a possible Japanese voice claim: Souta from the movie Suzume.

His best friend? I guess it would be my friend's D&D character. Her name is Topaz and she is a Dragonborne. Not besties, but pretty close.

Ooooooo boy, I got a whole playlist my friend and I have been cooking up for this sad little fella. Here's a couple of them that I think describes him best:

-"The Moss" by Cosmo Sheldrake

-"Rom-Com Gone Wrong" by Matt Maltese

-"When She Loved Me" by Sarah McLachlan

-"Home" by Cavetown

-"Valentine" by Laufey

-"Love Like You" by Rebecca Sugar

He's like, dealing with a heavy breakup until "Valentine" when he meets his current partner :)

4. "I do Adore" by Mindy Gledhill

5. Nope! But I actually thought about it when I was first creating his character just to see how he would act with other dynamics.

6. A scientist. More specifically, an ecologist. He loves nature and learning about all there is to know about life and the world. He also likes finding ways to help others, so maybe even a pharmacologist?

8. Writing, researching, reading, gardening, and making little insect and animal models because he is a NERD™ /lh<3

9. He generally takes good care of his physical health. Although, his flaw is "Most people scream when they see a demon. I stop and take notes on its anatomy," soooo. "For science" he says. "It's for the greater good" he says.

10. Well he's trying his best. But sometimes anxiety just surprises you and all of the sudden you're spiraling and things seem much worse than they are and pfffft whaddya meeeeaaaan I'm sorta self projecting? But he is the kind of person who feels bad about asking for help and then sort of holds it all in.

11. Inspirations were taken Link from The Legend of Zelda series (mainly BOTW) and Howl from Howl's Moving Castle for his design. Everything else was based purely on my own self indulgences for a nerdy elf character (and the songs my friend keeps sending my for him).

12. Same response as question 2 :)

13. No not really, but he is fighting against an organization that keeps threatening and trying to burn down the library he works/lives in with the librarian: Amanita (Ama, Anita, or Nita for short). Amanita is the person who raised and took care of Raymond after his family died in a fire. A fire caused by the same organization who's trying to harm them now. This is his main reason for joining a campaign; to get stronger and protect his loved ones.

14. This one flippin poison dragon we fought. Or maybe that's just me because I really didn't want to let them leave alive. I don't think Raymond necessarily hates anyone.

15. That all honestly depends on how the rest this campaign will play out. My friend has told me that they all did die a couple times, and we almost died to the STINKIN DRAGON but that's not important right now. But L O R E wise, he'd probably still do his researcher stuff until he's really old. Then he'll write books and share his stories :)

16. If they were alive, then I could see him having a great relationship with his parents since they were also big nerds like him. His relationship with Amanita is also great, and he really wants to protect her since she has done so much for him.

17. YESSSSSS! He loves sharing his knowledge with others and would do such a great job teaching kids. Ohhhh this is such a good one, yes he would feel bad if he had to leave them.

18. He/Him :>

19. Biromantic Asexual. His love language in giving is Acts of Service, and Quality Time for both giving and receiving.

20. A longbow and rocks. He has a cantrip spell called "Magic Stone" which lets me make a ranged attack by throwing small pebbles or stones. I like to call this spell the "RAYMOND, STONE 'EM" spell because its funnnnyyyy.

21. hmmmmmmmmmm Actually, I'm not sure! I guess maybe "Nothing You Can Take From Me" from The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.

22. Will generally go for the non-violent option (more of a lover), but if initiatives are rolling, he'll fight.

23. Extremely. He'll show up with a new tire to fix the flat one, and an extra one for any future situations.

24. Undecided

25. Not singing out loud, but he would definitely hum to himself! :)

26. Irises, forget-me-nots, and bluebells

27. Symbolism wise, a deer. 'Just because' wise, a rabbit, a fox, and a kitty cat :3

28. The Nerds™ (found at the end of this post:) ).

29. Cozy stuff, lo-fi, books, plants, leather notebooks, and an overall sort of cottage core mixed with academia aesthetic. (Mood Board made in Canva :>)

30. Accepts this as their new life(yippee!). They have now been adopted. Will try to find a way to bring up their interests in conversations.

Fuck it, OC brain rot won. Get ready for the Secret Ask List

1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?

2) Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?

3) What song describes your OC?

4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?

5) Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?

6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?

7) Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?

8) What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?

9) How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?

10) How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?

11) What was your inspiration for your OC?

12) Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?

13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!

15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?

16) How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?

17) If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?

18) What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?

19) What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?

20) If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?

21) What song best describes their relationship with their enemy?

22) Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?

23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?

24) Can they play any instruments? If so, what do they play?

25) Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?

26) What flower do you associate your OC with?

27) What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?

28) What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)

29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)

30) My OC and your OC are friends. This isn't a question. I'm not asking. (How do they respond?)

[demetrio-student]

Mr. Trenton Lee Stewart i love you

[cabeswaterdrowned]

me: I’m fine

me, 10 seconds later: the Greywaren mind meld was sooo stupid and the worst part of it is that device Could have been implemented without it feeling like a total cop out if it was say, characters having an actual argument/conflict in some type of dream space, alternate version of reality each others memories etc. if we were actually tracking them through all that and not just “they were wanted…” as the resolution … the actuality of it was just lazy.

[daisywords]

started rereading a book that I had mixed feelings about but have also thought about a lot since (and I do like to revisit works that had a particular resonance with me to try and figure out what that captivating something was) and anyway I did read this book the first time when I was probably too young for it (I think my mom was reading it for a book club and I saw it on her nightstand and read the blurb and she told me I probably should wait until I was older to read it) and I remember that sneaking into her room to read it in little snatches. Sitting on the floor of her bathroom in secret with that book. But ANYWAY what I'm trying to say is I remembered being vaguely annoyed with the narrator and I was wondering if that would still be the case reading it as an adult. And the answer is yes. I am finding her insufferable, in fact.

[honey-tongued-devil]

Arcane characters finding you asleep at their workplace

The devil works hard, but I work a little harder, so I’m back to writing Arcane headcanons a month before season two comes out.

Jayce:  

- Strong sense of guilt,  

- The first thing that comes to his mind is that you must have waited for him for a long time to fall asleep 

- He will make it up to you by trying to cook something for you, stopping to buy your favorite sweets before heading home, and giving you a shoulder massage the moment you sit down somewhere after you wake up.  

- The man of the Hamlet-like dilemma: he doesn’t want to wake you, but he also doesn’t want you to be uncomfortable.  

- If he has something urgent to do, he’ll try to cover your shoulders with something, even just his jacket, to keep you warm while he finishes only the essentials.  

- Once he’s free, he will very gently try to lift you from the chair, apologizing when you wake up and mumble something incoherent.  

Viktor:  

- In the early years of university, it sometimes happened that he found you in his room asleep, slumped over on a chair or bed with your shoes still on.  

- But as the years went by and the lab became his main space, that sight became a constant, repeating at least twice a week.  

- He tries to make as little noise as possible, whether with his aides, the door, or the stack of books and notebooks he needs to organize.  

- Before getting to work, he leaves the room again to bring you your favorite hot drink with a plastic lid pressed on top, so it doesn’t cool down.  

- Then, in complete silence, he works, deciding what to leave for tomorrow and what to do now, so he can finish as soon as possible without delaying too much.  

Ekko:  

- It’s hard to define what exactly a workplace is for Ekko,  

- But he often finds you at the Firelights' tree, in that room that’s supposed to be his, having likely sneaked in through the window to surprise him.  

- There are days when he comes back fairly early but stays to tell stories to the kids, and others when things go wrong, and he returns when it’s already dark, and almost everyone is asleep

- Finding you like this always makes him feel the absence of something more stable

- But he shakes his head and quickly pushes aside doubts about his ideals, stepping out of the room again and making more noise as he enters again, so you wake up, and he can pretend to be surprised in front of your open eyes.  

- By now, you know he steps out and comes back in, but it makes you smile every single time.

Vander:  

- You always sit at a table in the back of the Last Drop to wait for him, trying not to bother him, doodling, doing calculations, or planning something for the next day just to keep yourself entertained.  

- But by now, the sound of drunkards and the clinking of coins and glasses have become background noise that helps lull you into a catatonic state.  

- Vander usually notices after about an hour that you've fallen asleep; he always keeps an eye on you, but sometimes the customers cause problems.  

- He doesn’t like leaving you there, so far away, so he usually waits for a quieter moment to come over, pick you up, and bring you behind the counter, laying you down with your arms and head resting on the wooden bar.  

- He knows it’s not a big improvement, but his priority is to keep you safe.  

- When he finishes working, he closes the bar without doing the closing duties, sets his alarm for earlier than usual, and carries you to your room in his arms, covering your forehead with kisses.  

Silco:  

- The problem with Silco finding you asleep in his office is that he rarely arrives alone.  

- There’s always either Sevika or at least two other henchmen following him.  

- He sighs and sends them away, not without Sevika giving him a provocative look that means everything and nothing.  

- He hates those situations because part of him feels a strange warmth at the thought of you sneaking into his office for whatever reason, but on the other hand, he knows it negatively affects his image to be seen as a leader who tolerates certain insubordinations.  

- Because sneaking into the kingpin’s office is something that would get almost anyone else outside decapitated. But not you.  

- He huffs, pacing the room to deal with both emotions, and when he finally calms down, he approaches you, shaking you slightly to wake you up.  

- It’s certainly not the gentlest gesture on his part, but most of the time, it ends with you either going back to sleep in his bed while he works, or sitting on his lap while he flips through papers without paying them much attention.  

Jinx:  

- She can’t contain her excitement at all. When she notices your figure in her workshop, she always lets out a little happy sound that wakes you up.  

- From there, she immediately starts apologizing at least a thousand times, feeling guilty for waking you up but still too happy that you came to visit her.  

- She helps you up, talking nonstop about her day and anything that comes to mind as she leads you outside.  

- It’s not because she doesn’t want you around, but because she assumes you must be hungry as soon as you wake up, so before you're fully awake, you’ll find yourself at the Last Drop with enough food in front of you to feed her father’s entire gang of henchmen.  

- And she will absolutely feed you herself when she sees you haven’t taken a bite in too long, while stealing food here and there and continuing to talk.  

Vi:  

- For her, too, a "workplace" is a somewhat vague concept,  

- But in return, she has her secret spot, where she hides at night and tries to survive when she’s not out on the streets looking for trouble.  

- Every time she finds you there, she feels an indescribable pang in her heart.  

- She always feels like she’s neglecting the person she loves and failing to make you understand how much she cares about you.  

- She always hesitates before waking you up; sometimes she’ll even go change into clean clothes and wash the grime off her hands and face first.  

- Then she’ll wake you by sitting next to you, giving you a kiss, calling you by a silly nickname only the two of you know, and rubbing her forehead against yours before asking, with a rhetorical smile,  

- "Did you miss me?"

Caitlyn:  

- Sometimes you find yourself in the inner waiting room of the precinct, with her colleagues pointing out your body slumped in the chair and raising their eyebrows, teasing her. Other times, you simply sneak into her room, which isn’t much different from the police station anyway.  

- Every time, she sighs and gently wakes you, her pale eyes a little sad.  

- “Why didn’t you call me?” It doesn’t matter to her that you didn’t want to disturb her, because to her, you’re never a disturbance. It’s not a problem to have you around, even in public. She just feels bad that you waited instead of telling her, so she could have come much sooner.  

- She takes you away from the station without any issues, letting you continue resting against her shoulder as a Kiramman private vehicle takes you both to her home.  

- If you’re already in her room, she usually changes and lies down next to you, taking the chance to nap together, wrapped in each other's arms.  

Mel:  

- Falling asleep inside the Senate? Impossible.  

- But the keys to her office and her room are always in your pocket, and you usually bring her something to eat when you visit, though by the time you fall asleep, both the coffee and the treats are cold.  

- She’s not used to displays of affection, so she stays still for a few seconds before smiling and shaking her head.  

- She doesn’t wake you immediately, not because she doesn’t want to, but because if the sound of the door didn’t wake you, you probably need the rest. So she lets you sleep for at least 30 minutes before coming over, brushing your hair behind your ears to wake you, laughing when you lift your head with your eyes still closed.  

Sevika:  

- The first thing anyone would think is that falling asleep at the Last Drop is extremely dangerous. However, Silco’s henchmen aren’t too different from bipedal dogs by now; they know who you are, recognize your face and scent, and if they notice you’ve fallen asleep somewhere, at least three of them sit at your table to ensure your safety.  

- Sevika is always tasked with the worst imaginable jobs—tedious, long, and often dangerous—so when she finally returns, it’s usually either time to open the bar to the public or time to close it.  

- Even when she sees you, she can’t come to you right away, so she makes a face at whoever is watching over you, as if urging them to protect you better while she heads into the office.  

- Like Silco, part of her feels subconsciously softened by the idea that someone would feel the physical need to be with her so much that they’d wait, sitting until they fell asleep.  

- But on the other hand, she’s terrified that someone might see you and come after you to settle personal scores in a cowardly way.  

- When she finally comes down, she pulls you into her arms without saying a word, holding you under her large cape as she carries you away.  

[malusokay]

Little things that improved my life 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Accepting my sleep schedule. I'm a night owl; I focus at night, I'm calm at night, I'm motivated at night. For a long time, I tried to fight this since everyone always preaches getting up early, but since I started accepting my natural sleep schedule, I've been feeling a lot better and have become way more productive.

"drink more water". TEA. Tea is the secret here. I will be honest, I hate drinking water; it doesn't matter if I have a cute water bottle or a cute glass, I still hate it. TEA.

Replying quickly. I used to be one of those people who get a text message and think, "Oh, I'll reply to that later", and then just forget about it entirely. Now, I text back as soon as I see the message. This has not only improved my texting anxiety (which I cause on my own by now replying and then feeling bad) but also deepened my connection to my friends. <3

Keeping my circle small and being okay with that. Over the past months, I've had this sudden urge to expand my social circle and get to know more and more people, especially after I moved in August. However, this quickly ended in what I like to call my "social burnout". I was tired, annoyed, and overwhelmed. It took a few weeks for it to settle, but I've come to the conclusion that I would much rather have a smaller circle of people who I trust and love deeply than a huge group of friends, and that's totally okay.

Wearing what I like. Even though I live in a big city, I'd still say that my style can sometimes be a bit more extravagant than what most people wear, another point is that I'm very uncomfortable with pants so I only wear skirts, which is also considered a bit odd where I live. But over the past years, I've come to accept that and have become so sure of myself and found such comfort in my style that I now just wear whatever I like, and it makes every day a little bit nicer.

Reading and writing for pleasure. Reading books outside of my studies and spending time researching topics that simply interest me is such a great way to calm your mind. Same for writing, I always like to say that to write is to think; putting your thoughts on paper in cohesive and well-crafted sentences that you can then reread and think over again is such a liberating thing to do.

Reaching out more. fuck the whole "double texting" and "no contact" thing. If you want to speak to someone because they mean something to you, then just do it. Unless they specifically asked for space, you shouldn't feel bad about wanting to be in touch with them. Many even really appreciate it when you show that you truly care. Let's stop the nonchalant act, and instead, let's face deep emotions and true vulnerability. <3

As always, please feel free to share your own little insights and things that helped you improve comments! <3

my insta: @ malusokay

love ya ･:*₊‧✩

[hoshifighting]

i love your college fling writings sm aaaa (*≧∀≦*)!! begging on hands and knees for college fling jun 🙏 esp if he’s a bit more on the dom side

college fling!jun

WARNINGS: smut, bio!genius jun, clit stimulation, oral (f. receiving), cock riding, a little dom!jun, non-established relationship.

it’s a thursday afternoon, the sort of day where the mood smells like cheap cafeteria food and half-assed desperation, ‘cause exams are coming and no one knows shit. you’re slouched over your bio notes in the library, chewing the end of your pen like it owes you some kind of lamp genie, and then boom—in struts college fling!jun.

college fling!jun, who hates the college lockers so much he straight-up just carries all his books around like some kind of over-prepared, slightly chaotic mule. deadass, his backpack looks ready to burst, and you’re already side-eyeing it, wondering how many goddamn textbooks one man could possibly need.

“you okay there?” he plops down across from you, hair slightly messy, and there’s this little grin playing at his lips. why’s he gotta look so cute when you’re on the brink of a mental breakdown?

“nah, i’m actually about to file for emotional bankruptcy,” you mutter, flipping through your notes like the answers are gonna manifest themselves through sheer panic. “you done with the bio assignment?”

college fling!jun, shy-but-funny, lowkey-genius college fling!jun, tilts his head and smirks. “you need help?”

you blink. “you know bio?”

“do i know bio?” he scoffs, dragging your notebook closer like you personally insulted him. “sit back, y/n.”

next thing you know, he’s rattling off answers about cell division and DNA replication like he’s reading straight outta the textbook, except better, ‘cause he’s throwing in jokes about mitochondria being the “bad bitch” of the cell world. who even is this man?

college fling!jun, who spent half the semester cracking dumb jokes about your prof’s comb-over, suddenly explaining concepts better than the professor himself? unreal.

“wait, wait,” you interrupt, pointing at a diagram. “so, like, the nucleus is just… chilling in the middle, bossing everyone around?”

he grins, leaning in closer, and damn, his perfume smells too good for a guy who looks like he only owns three hoodies. “exactly. it’s like me at a group project—doesn’t do much, but still gets credit.”

“i hate you,” you snort, but you’re laughing anyway, and somehow your brain is actually clicking with the material.

college fling!jun, who makes studying feel like less of a slow, painful death.

later, as you’re packing up, he scratches the back of his neck, looking all shy again, and it’s such a whiplash from confident bio-genius jun that you almost laugh. “uh, so… you wanna grab coffee or something? you know, as a reward for surviving bio?”

you raise an eyebrow. “this isn’t you trying to weasel into my project group again, is it?”

“what? no,” he says, but he’s grinning, and you already know he’s lying.

college fling!jun, who probably would try to scam his way into your group, but makes it so damn endearing you’d let him anyway.

it’s late—like, stupid late. the kinda late where your brain feels like it’s melting into a puddle of useless mush. you and jun are on the floor of your dorm, the carpet rough under your knees, surrounded by markers, cut-out letters, and one very sad excuse for a poster board. everyone else dipped like two hours ago, muttering something about “early classes” and “not wanting to lose brain cells”—like, rude much? but jun stayed.

college fling!jun, who’s now sitting cross-legged with his sleeves pushed up, forearms all veiny as he’s meticulously lining up the title letters.

“you’re actually kinda good at this,” you say, crawling closer on your knees, one hand pushing your hair back as it flops into your face. you’re half-joking, but also… not? like, his focus is insane.

he glances up, smirking. “you doubted me?”

“uh, yeah?” you deadpan, sitting back on your heels. “you’re the guy who brought a backpack full of biology books to a history lecture. forgive me for not immediately trusting your poster skills.”

he snorts, shaking his head as he smooths down a corner of the title. “at least I came prepared.”

“prepared for what? a different class?”

“y/n,” he says, tone mock-serious as he leans back on his hands, “you’re lucky you’re cute.”

that shuts you up for a second. the compliment—casual, like he didn’t just drop it in the middle of a roast session—has you blinking. you recover quick, though, because if college fling!jun is good at anything, it’s teasing, and you’re not about to let him have the upper hand.

“yeah, yeah,” you say, waving him off as you grab a marker and doodle a little star in the corner of the poster. “you keep saying that, but I haven’t seen you make a move yet. scared?”

his eyes flick to yours, and there’s this little glint in them that makes your stomach flip. “scared? of you?”

“yes, actually.”

he laughs, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you now—like he’s considering something, weighing it. you’re close—closer than you realized, kneeling in front of him while he’s still sitting, one hand resting casually on his thigh.

“come here,” he says.

you tilt your head. “why?”

he leans forward, just a little, until you’re close enough to feel the warmth radiating off him. “because I said so.”

there’s a challenge in his tone, and you’re not one to back down. so, you shuffle closer, knees brushing against his as you sit back on your heels again. “happy now?”

he hums, eyes flicking over your face like he’s trying to memorize every detail. “getting there.”

“jun,” you start joking, half-something-else-entirely, but before you can finish, his hand slides up to cup your jaw, fingers warm against your skin as he leans in and kisses you.

he’s waiting for you to push him away. but you don’t. instead, you kiss him back, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between you.

and then… well, the guy’s got skills. his lips move against yours with this easy credit, and when his tongue flicks out to trace the seam of your mouth, you can’t help the little noise that escapes you. he takes that as encouragement, deepening the kiss until you’re dizzy, your fingers digging into his shoulders as you try to keep up.

college fling!jun, who’s apparently really, really good with his mouth.

you pull back just enough to catch your breath, your forehead resting against his as you both try to steady yourselves. “okay,” you say, voice a little breathless, “so you’re not scared.”

he laughs, low and soft, his hand still cradling your jaw. “nope. but you might be.”

before you can ask what he means, he’s kissing you again, harder this time, and then his hands are on your hips, pulling you into his lap like it’s nothing easier than that. you go willingly, settling against him as your hands find their way into his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan against your mouth.

you’re both a little frantic now, hands wandering as the kiss turns messy, desperate. his fingers slide under the hem of your shirt, skimming over your skin and leaving a trail of heat in their wake. you shiver, pressing closer, and he takes the opportunity to mouth at your neck, his teeth grazing just enough to make you gasp.

“jun,” you moan, and it’s enough to make him pause, pulling back just enough to look at you.

“umm... so do you…”

you nod before he can even finish the question, your hands tugging at his shirt in answer. he grins, and then he’s helping you pull it off, tossing it somewhere behind him without a second thought.

college fling!jun, who’s skinny but stupidly cut, all lean muscle and sharp lines that you can’t help but trace with your fingers as he kisses you again.

“your turn,” he murmurs against your mouth, his hands already tugging at the hem of your shirt. you lift your arms, letting him pull it off.

“you’re so…” he starts, but then he shakes his head, like words aren’t enough. instead, he leans in, kissing you again as his hands explore, mapping out your chest, by pinching your nipples

things blur after that—when he finally settles between your thighs, his lips trailing kisses down your stomach, you think you might actually lose your marbles.

college fling!jun, who’s apparently a goddamn expert when it comes to going down on you. his tongue swinging your clit to the sides just to suck it all right after. your fingers are tangled in his hair, and you even feel pity about his scalp. he doesn’t stop until you’re cumming inside his mouth—you last minutes by the way—, your back arching off the floor as you cry out, your other hand holding a highlighter that you've found on the floor and decided that would be your stress ball.

and then he’s kissing his way back up your body, touching your hand to release the poor highlighter before it explodes in your hand. as he presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth. “still think I’m scared?” he teases and you don’t even have the energy to come up with a clever reply.

college fling!jun, who’s cocky as hell but more than backs it up.

you pull him down for another kiss, your hands fumbling with the waistband of his sweatpants as you shift your hips, sinking down onto his lap. the stretch is dizzying. u hear your blood flow through your ears with the immediate sink, making your head spin as he grips your hips,.

college fling!jun who twitches every time you circle your clit as you ride him. the little gasps he lets out are addictive, this stuttered rhythm of groans and whines that have you clenching around him just to see how he’ll react.

“uhm—hands to yourself.” he chokes out, his head tilting back, exposing the long line of his neck, his adam apple bobbing up and down. you take advantage, leaning forward to press kisses there, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat against your lips. his hands tighten on your waist, his thighs flexing under you as he buck his hips up into you as a warning.

“j-jun,” you stammer, breath hitching as you shift, grinding down, making wet shots reach his ears, his head snaps up, eyes dark and glassy as they lock onto yours.

“you like that?” he rasps, his chest heaving as he fights to keep himself together. “‘cause i… i love watching you like this, pretty.”

college fling!jun, who moans loud enough to embarrass himself but is too lost in the feeling of you to care. his grip on you tightens as you find a rhythm. his noises grow louder, needier, every time you roll your hips, and you can feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles tighten as he gets closer, he always punishing you a little for teasing him, a pinch on your clit, a bite on your neck, a slap on your ass.

“y/n,” he groans, his voice shaking, and you’re right there with him, your own climax building as you reach down between your bodies, your fingers brushing against your clit again. the added sensation has you gasping, and he twitches inside you, his hands pulling you down hard against him as he lets out a broken moan.

“you’re so… gorgeous, fuck!” he mutters, his words slurred, and that’s all it takes for you to cum, your body fluttering as you cry out his name. the sound of it seems to tip him over the edge, his grip on you tightening as he follows, his body shaking beneath you as he spills inside you.

college fling!jun who collapses back onto the carpet, dragging you down with him, his arms wrapping around your ass, letting his hands lazily squeeze the meat there.

it’s like nothing happened when you two go to the college hallways to finish the project. when actually, everything happened all at once. jun’s sitting at the edge of your desk, eating one of your granola bars like he didn’t have you trembling in his lap just hours ago. you’re pretending to focus on your laptop, but your mind’s stuck on how his hair’s still a little messy and his shirt’s on inside out—your fault, obviously.

“what’s with the face?” he asks, mouth half-full, grinning like he knows exactly what’s with the face.

“you didn’t even ask before raiding my snacks,” you say, aiming for annoyed but landing somewhere near flustered.

“c’mon, you owe me,” he teases, leaning closer. “all that… effort? you’re lucky i’m still standing.”

you glare at him, but your face burns. “junhui, shut up.”

college fling!jun, who bites his lip to stop himself from laughing but ends up chuckling anyway, stupidly cute as he swings his legs. you’re about to throw a pen at him when he leans over and kisses your temple.

and that’s how it is now. he’s still jun—still the guy who hoards biology notes and carries all his books like the lockers are his mortal enemy—but there’s this… nerves now, this implicit thing hanging between you. like, when he’s explaining something in class, leaning over your desk, his voice low in your ear, and you’re trying not to think about how those same lips were on your pussy just a few nights ago. or when he slides into the seat next to you during study group, his knee brushing yours, and you glance at him, only to catch him already looking at you with that knowing smirk.

college fling!jun, who’s casual as hell in public but pulls you into empty classrooms when no one’s around, his hands already under your shirt as he kisses you like he’s been dying to all day.

it’s worse at night, though. he texts you at random hours, shit like, “you awake?” and “missed you today” with a dick pic coming right after, hard and dripping for you—like always. like he’s not gonna be in your bed an hour later, his hands sliding over your skin as he whispers your name.

“we’re so bad at this,” you tell him one night, lying tangled in his sheets, his arm thrown over your waist as he presses lazy kisses to your shoulder.

“bad at what?” he murmurs sleepy.

“keeping it casual,” you say, glancing back at him. “you’re always here, jun.”

he shrugs, pulling you closer. “maybe i like being here.”

college fling!jun, who’s starting to feel like more than a fling, but neither of you’s ready to say it out loud just yet. instead, you let it keep happening—the late-night visits, the stolen kisses between classes, the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

and maybe you’re not ready to say it, but you’re definitely feeling it. especially when he shows up at your door with takeout and that stupid grin, saying, “figured you’d be hungry,” like he hasn’t already fed you twice today.

college fling!jun, who’s not so casual after all.

[bunny-jpeg]

Hi there! I was wondering if I could get mushroom pie and ice cream bars with a side of juice and ✨Vampire! Max Verstappen? ✨

I love your writing so much! And the bakery theme is my favorite thing 🥰

bakery menu

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu!!! want more vampire!max or something else that might tickle your fancy? then the bakery is open for requests!! thank you so, @fictional-babes-inc for this darling of a request. i've been pondering vampire or monster!max, like oh god! so thank you for this treat, it was great to make for you! enjoy!!

mushroom pie ("if you don't shut up. i'm going to shut you up.") + ice cream bar (“did you see the way he was eyeing you? he needs to know you're mine.") + juice (cockwarming) served by vampire!max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, vampire!max, vampire au, possessive behaviour/jealousy, cockwarming, human!reader, mentions of blood, biting, facetimes (exhibitionism), degrading language, clit playing

max thought that the marks on your neck were enough to let others know what you were taken. bringing a human into the fold with a bunch of vampires could cause some problems if one of them got the wrong idea. you belonged to max, and any vampire with at least one working eye could see that. how you tucked yourself neatly into your lover's side, let him taste your blood. docile and beautiful doing so.

but max knew charles well enough, the two had been immortal for about the same time. he knew that if you had max's name printed across your chest, charles would still flash those boyish smiles at you. get in a little too close, let those green eyes of his hypnotize you the way it had so many women.

max was a possessive creature of the night and charles loved to get under his skin.

"max."

"i don't want to hear it." you were both in the car. it was well into the night and max was driving you both back home.

his eyes were on the road, he refused to make eye contact. the thrum of envy engulfed his stomach. he gripped your soft thigh a little harder, if he wanted to, he could break the bone.

but max didn't break his toys. even if they disobeyed him.

"if you don't shut up. i'm going to shut you up." he said, his eyes flickered to you for a moment. they were blue, but a dangerous kind of blue. like the deepest part of the oceans. the all consuming nature of him.

you swallowed, "charles meant nothing by it. you knew how he is. he's a flirt. you know i'd never leave you. i promise." you bottom lip wobbled. humans, always so emotional.

as if max wasn't seething with jealousy.

when you both got home, you were brought to the couch in the living room. you cunt ached at the feeling of him tugging down your skirt, threatening to rip it at the seems.

your vampire boyfriend really hated the idea of another undead creature of the night putting his hands all over you. like he owned you.

he ran his fingers across your clothed slit and watched your squirm. oh, you were just lovely weren't you. he felt something rise inside of him as he eyed your heated body.

you looked so innocent, so human with all that blood in your body. sizzling under the heat of his sexual advances.

he got you out of your blouse and pulled the bra off of you. he stripped you bare and got his face up into your neck and sank his teeth into you. not enough to draw blood, but enough to bruise the sweet peach he called his beloved.

he got you up into his lap, seated upright against him. he got his cock out of his slacks before he pushed you down onto him. the sudden feeling of his cock inside of you made your breathing stagger for a moment.

you let out a small moan, but soon you were bent over as max propped his phone up on some books on the coffee table. you whimpered instead of asking what he was doing.

he just said, “did you see the way he was eyeing you, my love? he needs to know you're mine." he said it like a promise which made you stomach do a flip.

soon he was facetiming charles as you stayed seated on his cock. this possessive vampire! you squirmed a little but, max stayed close and started to play with your clit.

charles answered it, he was in bed and his eyes went wide at the sight before him. there you were, in max's lap with his cock stuffed into your pretty hole and his large fingers rubbing against your clit.

vampires really didn't have a sense of decency did they? regardless it made you run hot, your throbbing pulse enticed him.

"holy my." charles said as he shifted a little in his spot on the bed. you could feel the leer of his gaze through the phone screen, "you're certain she wasn't a prostitute before you met, max?"

"no. her father of a vampire hunter wouldn't have let her. she had never ever sucked cock before i got to her. poor thing, completely taken apart by the vampires."

you looked away, but max's words were biting as he told you to face his phone. look at charles while you did your job and kept max's cock warm. they spoke of you like you weren't in the room with them, like max's cock wasn't spearing you.

but you wouldn't move your hips as his cock filled you. you tried to get some sense of control by holding onto your knees. but soon max held you throat with his other hand, keeping your back to his chest.

"so, charles." max said as he continued to play with you. his fingers were methodical as they moved.

charles chuckled, "possessive, max? you could've just sent a photo. but, no, you have to put it right in my face.... but you know she'd look better with my fangs in that soft stomach of hers."

max sneered, "shut up, charles. you see this." he held your throat a little tighter, "this is mine. you have all of monaco to seduce. she is with me."

charles laughed at the petty jealous words, it was honestly funny to him, "oh max. i'll get her soon. you and i can have a take about what to do with your little pet."

vampires always so high and mighty.

you were a little beauty to max, the favourite thing to keep his cock warm. and he made sure you did a good job, he wouldn't have you slacking. he kept you seated on his cock, unmoving while he worked your slick pussy.

"max. ah!" you whimpered.

max sighed, "keep quiet. bad pets don't get to complain."

you clenched around his cock as you tried to grip onto his forearms. you looked like a debauched mess against him. letting charles drink in the sight of you. the other vampire didn't touch himself, rather he was enticed by the sight of you.

all the men, women and others in monaco, and charles yearned to dig his cock and fangs into you. see what the lover of his rival and friend felt and tasted like. was it rich like a large meal, or was it sweet fruit in the late summer.

what did you taste like, little human?

max took you by the jaw and turned your head to the side, exposing your neck and letting him take a bite into you. once again, only enough to bruise. the intimate act of drinking blood was only for his eyes.

you felt your head grow heavy from the entire thing. the pleasure damped any bad thoughts you were having. you could hear charles' voice when he said, "seems she enjoys this too much, max.'

max worked your pussy harder as you remained soaked around his hard cock, that was dribbling pre-cum into your poor cunt. he smirked at charles before he sank his teeth in fully.

to damn with convention, he wanted to make his stake clear.

it sent you over the edge. you came around his cock and it made him tense up. he licked at the blood as he slowed down his fingers. you went soft against his chest and let your lover do what he pleased.

"and charles... don't touch what is mine again." he could see how flustered charles was. max then ended the call before you were shoved over the coffee table, the books shoved off the table. your ass up in the air as he tossed his phone to the side. he needed you.

he needed you now.

-

the following week, you were with the vampires once more. they had been nice enough to give the human guests something to nosh on while the creatures discussed all matters.

you could feel charles' gaze from the couch. you felt heat run through you once he approached you. his hand on your thigh, pushing up the short dress you owned.

he chuckled, "a sundress for the lover of one of the most important vampires on the continent." he leaned in a little closer, "i think you'd look pretty in something darker. something that didn't make you look like prey."

you felt your heart stagger.

"charles... that's enough." max said as he cut into the little scene on the couch.

charles just smiled, "i wasn't actually going to bite her."

max raised his eyebrows then said, "if you're going to try and fuck her, charles. i must be present there too." it was his compromise, if charles leclerc wanted you so badly. then what was stopping him? but if he was going to take that chance, it would be under the watchful eye of your vampire lover. <3

[viviennevermillion]

love languages

✧ ɴᴏᴛᴇꜱ: hsr debut post, hope this does well. i'm only at chapter 2 part 1 so pls bare we me. (gn!reader), aeons can walk among mortals for this

✧ ɴᴏᴡ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: bloom in the dark — emorie

✧ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ: blade, dan heng, jing yuan, luocha, march 7th, nanook, yaoshi

✧ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: some angst & hint at character death in blade's because i'm still figuring out how to write anything but angst for a character whose main objective is that he wants to die, i had way too much fun making the aeons eldritch

✧ giving: gifts

As much as Blade loved you, as much as he treasured the memories he shared with you and as much as he'd hate to cause you pain or grief; you were all too familiar with his predicament. You had been ever since you agreed to stay by his side, to love him for as long as you had together. That was the price you'd pay for loving a man who considered himself dead in spirits already. A shell of who he once was.

Part of him felt guilty for indulging you; how could he call himself yours when he'd take the exit from his cursed immortality if it presented itself before him tomorrow? How could he promise you his heart if he couldn't promise you a future?

He knew there was a chance he might outlive you by centuries. He knew there was a chance he'd say goodbye to you in a month. Still, you were willing to be with him, through all the uncertainty.

So he gifts you things to remember him by, should he part from you too soon for your liking. Some of them were expensive; after all he had more than enough life behind him to no longer be bound by material limits. Some of them were simple trinkets or flowers he preserved using glycerine. All of them held meaning but the overarching message was: "We were born in different times. If it were for the natural order of things, we never would have even met. I've been suffering since long before I met you. And yet, curiously, despite all; I treasure every moment I had with you. I'm glad to have loved you."

✧ receiving: physical touch

One thing Blade would have never expected when he met you; but was more than glad to realize, was that you could make him forget his anger and pain, even if it was for just a while; even if it always inevitably returned.

He loved falling asleep in your arms. It was the closest thing to the peace and salvation he craved that he could currently have. For just a few hours, he was content. He had forgotten what that felt like.

He loved the feeling of your fingers carding through his long, dark hair. And you loved the smile you so rarely saw on his face when you did this. Blade's breathing would calm and he'd nuzzle your neck as he was being held in your arms.

Blade also loves waking up in the middle of the night, feeling you shift in bed beside him and pressing a few lazy kisses to his lips before he fell back asleep.

He loves the way you tend to his scars, how you seem to wash the pain off his body with your caring touch; despite feeling guilty for how he has made you worry again. You'd end up disinfecting and bandaging his wounds and sometimes he had to chuckle at how you treated him as if he was fragile, despite having likely seen more hardships than you could ever imagine.

✧ giving: acts of service

Dan Heng doesn't really know how to express his love for you at first so he defaults to helping you out however he can.

He helps you with little jobs around the Astral Express and loves to team up with you for any missions or chores that fall on both of your plates.

Especially with all the knowledge he gathered from the archives and basically living in there; he's more than ready to help you figure out any mysteries you encounter on your journey with the Astral Express.

If he needs to explain anything to you or answer a question you have about stuff like the Aeons or any factions you encountered, he'll often pull you onto his lap at the desk and show you important info about it in a book or online. "I hope I could answer your questions. Did this help you?", he then asks you, looking into your eyes. "Yup!", you shoot him a smile and give him a quick kiss to the lips which leaves him blushing and just staring at you for a while.

"Hey, Astral Express to Dan Heng, you still there?", you chuckle and wave your hand in front of his eyes. He just blinks like, twice and then picks you up bridal style: "Come on, let's figure out that task Himeko gave you." He's just trying to distract from the fact that you flustered him.

Sometimes he tries to cook for you. The emphasis is on tries. You'll walk into the train kitchen and he'll be there stirring something in the frying pan and glancing at a recipe. "What are you doing there, love?", you ask and kiss his cheek. "I'm making lunch for you", he states and you hug him. "Aww, that's so sweet of you!", you press a few appreciative kisses to his lips, "wait why does it smell burnt?" "What-"

✧ receiving: quality time

Dan Heng is what we call 'a good listener'. He's not the best conversationalist but he likes to hear you talk and he remembers stuff you told him that even you have forgotten about until he one day just brings it up out of nowhere.

He loves to spend the time between trailblazing expeditions just hanging out with you. You check your phone and receive a text from him like "Hey, want to come over to my room? 🫀"

"?" "March told me that I should add a heart to my messages to make you feel more loved. Did I not do it correctly?" "Dan Heng, sweetie, no..."

You enter his room and he has made you two cups of coffee, the only thing he's actually good at "cooking". The two of you have decided to watch a movie and lay down on Dan Heng's mattress. "I can feel the bones in my back snapping in half, how do you sleep on this?", you raise your eyebrow. "I don't think it's that bad", he mumbles, seeming lost in thought.

While watching the movie, he has his arms wrapped around you. His only opinion about it is "it was good".

Also enjoys playing board games with you, specifically card games. You're pretty equally matched so there's no telling who wins this round. When he wins, you ask him what he wants as a reward and he just gives you a soft smile and tells you a kiss will do.

✧ giving: physical touch

Jing Yuan is a fairly affectionate man behind closed doors. He doesn't leave for work without giving you as many goodbye kisses as you want and doesn't let go of you throughout the whole night while he sleeps. You could get up and grab a glass of water from the kitchen, as soon as you return, Jing Yuan wraps his arms around you once more; even when he's in deep sleep.

He enjoys just sitting idly with you, both of you doing your own things and he's just holding your hand or has a hand resting on your thigh. He also loves when you lean your head on his shoulder and as soon as he feels you do that, he turns his head to place a kiss on your forehead.

Sometimes you'll be reading a book while sitting between his legs and he ends up pressing multiple kisses to your cheek or trailing them down your neck. He smiles against your skin everytime he does this. He's not always seeking to touch you but he has his clingy 10 minutes where he wants attention and sometimes that happens to interfere with whatever it is you're doing at the current moment.

Most of the time you can't resist indulging him and just kissing him for a while, burying your hands in his hair or cupping his cheeks gently.

✧ receiving: quality time

Jing Yuan loves those days on the Xianzhou Luofu that are so peaceful that he gets to spend the entire day with you. You decide to take a nap during noon, falling asleep in his arms, listening to his steady heartbeat. You feel Jing Yuan press a few soft kisses to your forehead while you're dozing off.

When you awake, he's no longer next to you. You get up and find him in the kitchen, preparing a late lunch for the two of you. You wrap your arms around his waist from behind and glance at the frying pan to see him fry some eggs.

You hear a chirping sound and fish a small finch out of your boyfriend's hair. "Don't worry you, we're not grilling your brethren", you whisper softly and put the bird on the windowsill, "fly free, my little friend." The bird lifts off. You raise an eyebrow at Jing Yuan. "Was this the last one?"

He chuckles. "Should be." This at least gives him an excuse to take a bath with you and maybe you'll volunteer to wash his hair. He loves the feeling of your fingers brushing through his hair and just relaxing and letting you pamper him. "You know, if that's what you want, you can just ask right?", you remind him, "you don't need to call your woodland friends for help." Jing Yuan just laughs and gently guides your chin closer to his face so he can kiss you softly.

He enjoys playing chess against you, though you tend to suggest to play a die-based game instead so you can win by having good luck, because Jing Yuan has several centuries of chess practice under his belt. "You know that still doesn't mean you'll win", he watches you unpack the Ludo game with an amused expression. "I have good luck, I got you after all", you say confidently. "Well I've heard an old saying from a distant planet that when you luck out in love it means you have bad luck when it comes to games", he argues and crosses his arms with a smile on his face. You roll your eyes and he responds by kissing your lips.

Sometimes he watches you play chess against Yanqing. "Does it hurt to lose to an 8 year old?", he teases you. "Silence, Jing Yuan, you taught him this stuff." Your lover lets out a laugh. "And yet he still has so much to learn before he can beat me."

✧ giving: words of affirmation

When Luocha loves you, he doesn't hesitate to tell you. After all, his companion in the coffin consistently reminds him that life is short and he better have no regrets, should misfortune strike him tomorrow. Luocha adores you and in his mind, there's nothing stopping him from letting you know.

He's also a bit of a smooth-talker to you and you only. He never gets overbearing with his flirting, but you can expect a few cheesy compliments followed by a kiss to your hand. He'll pick you up for your date, takes your hand in his and leads it to his lips. "You're as beautiful today as the first time I saw you", he smiles and whispers against your skin.

Getting together with Luocha could take ages if you insist in knowing why he's being so suspicious first; but once you do he's ironically an open book for you. He has shared his greatest secret with you and you've given your hearts to one another, so why should he hold back now from telling you what's on his mind?

Sometimes his words are on the nose, such as cupping your cheeks and telling you that he loves you with all his heart or that he wants you to traverse the stars with him from now on. Sometimes the love he has for you is put into telling you how he remembers certain areas around the Xianzhou Luofu as "that place where you surprised me with a bouquet of flowers when we met up for tea" or "that shop where you almost made the coffin fall over". You learn with time that there are a lot of things he associates with you and your memories together.

✧ receiving: physical touch

Luocha loves your affections. He's the least grumpy man ever in the morning. You could wake him up at 3am for kisses and he'd be down for it. He loves when he wakes up and the first thing he feels is your lips on his cheeks or your fingers running through his long blond hair or your fingertips drawing circles on his bare shoulders.

He pulls you into his chest and you can hear his heartbeat while he holds you close. He lifts your chin up and his lips meet yours before he even opens his eyes. He kisses you softly, his tongue circling around yours as he tries to pull you even closer. "Good morning, my love", his voice sounds raspy before he presses a kiss to your cheek.

Luocha loves to take a walk through the city and hold your hand in his while doing so. He doesn't say it but he definitely melts if you stop your walk for a minute just to give him a hug or kiss him gently.

One time you get caught in the rain and Luocha finds shelter for the two of you under a secluded pavillion. You are cold so he wraps his jacket around you and holds you in his arms until the skies clear. He presses a kiss to the top of your head. "Are you still cold, my dear?", his voice sounds so soft and he gently squeezes your shoulder. You shake your head. He lets out a chuckle. "That's good, then", he replies before resting his head on top of yours and closing his eyes for a while.

He enjoys resting his head in your lap while you run your fingers through his hair. You might be busy with something else, not noticing how he smiles up at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen (you are). He eventually closes his eyes and rests his cheek against your stomach.

✧ giving: words of affirmation

March 7th talks quite a lot, especially if you were to ask Dan Heng about it. So if she's in love with you; her feelings are bound to slip out with her words. It wasn't hard for you to become aware of her crush on you because she just accidentally blurted it out one day. She was so happy when you told her you felt the same; even if this conversation was the furthest thing from planned.

March loves to explore the civilizations you travel to on the Astral Express and buying lots of souvenirs and clothes from there. So sometimes she'll drag you from shop to shop and often finds things she thinks would look good on you. No matter if you're wearing a fancy suit / dress or a 5 credit neon green "I survived the Belabogeyman attack" shirt from a shady souvenir shop, she hypes you up like you're on the front cover of a popular magazin.

"Aw look, you're so cute", she squeals and hugs you from the side, trying and failing to lift you up. There's at least 5 people in the shop staring at you and the shopkeeper glares at March, silently reminding her to keep her voice at an acceptable volume for a public building. "Oops... sorry", she cringes slightly and then turns to you again with a bright smile, "you should totally get this!"

Everytime you enter her room after a trip you find a new photo you took together on her wall. "Look at your smile on this one", she holds one of them up, "it makes me happy whenever I look at it."

Dan Heng told her to stop talking about you all the time so now she talks with you about you.

Definitely tells you she loves you plenty of times.

✧ receiving: gifts

March loves gifts. She's the kind of person who can't wait to open her birthday presents so you guys have to hide them from her every year; preferably somewhere where she can't reach or won't find them.

So when she receives gifts from you for no special occasion, she's gushing so much.

She loves flowers and chocolates. She definitely has a sweet tooth but will still share the chocolates with you. She is very interested in the meaning of the flowers you gift to her so if you can tell her about that, she'll be all the more happy. She loves romantic gestures like this. She has mostly read about them in romance novels and she's more than thrilled to finally receive them herself.

March also adores jewelry, whether you bought something for her or crafted it yourself. She'll wear it everyday and she's very proud whenever someone asks about it.

She posts about the gifts she receives in her status online as well. She'll be like "y/n got me this! 💓💓💓"

She dm's the pictures to Dan Heng as well and he leaves her on read.

When you gift her something, she gives you a hug and a kiss on the cheek before opening it. Once she opened it, she smiles at you brightly and kisses you on the lips. "Thank you so much for this!", she takes your hand into hers and squeezes it.

Receiving gifts from you makes her so happy. But being loved by you makes you feel like every day is her birthday either way. And for you, every day was March 7th.

✧ giving: quality time

Loving an Aeon wasn't the easiest endeavor. Especially not Nanook. But somehow you had touched the destructive god's heart and for the first time since they became what they were today, there was a life they wanted to treasure and protect.

They don't understand much about the human world as it was today, having mostly spent their time on a different plane of existence. It was only when they connected with you and took an interest in you; that they decided to walk among them for a while, to be able to spend time with you. At first their bitterness became apparent every day they spent with you, only scoffing at the people they saw going about their daily life and the things that they had built; which all would be wiped away by destruction if Nanook were to have their way.

But you took that as a challenge. You wanted to see if you could find something they liked about life, unaware that you had become that very phenomenon.

You made it your favorite pastime to show them all sorts of things from the material world and see their reaction to them. "What do you think of this painting?", you ask them, holding up a work of art you got from a market. "I'm not too fond of the sound it makes and the cosmic essence it depicts", they respond with a deadpan expression and you just look at them in confusion, "right, I forgot you can only perceive three dimensions."

Nanook, despite not letting it show, enjoys spending time with you; even though it could be challenging sometimes considering they were an Aeon and you were not. Sometimes they would ask you about things you couldn't see and other times they struggled to discern what things they saw you could pass through and which ones you considered "a wall".

✧ receiving: physical touch

Nanook loves your touch, much as they would like you to never notice that. They're not used to any physical sensations so they're very sensitive. They're unable to form coherent sentences when you so much as press a kiss to their lips. According to them it was very difficult to convey their thoughts in your way of speech when you were "trying to overwhelm them like this"

Giving Nanook affection also proved to be a challenge in more ways than one. The first time you tried to rest your head on their chest, your cheek touched the golden essence flowing out of them and you could perceive what you could only describe as the worst sensory overload anyone has ever experienced; a colorful mix of incoherent screaming and the faint sound of explosions; the feeling of all-encompassing despair and grief.

"What was THAT?", you stared at Nanook in shock, panting. "The entirety of traces left behind by destroyed worlds and ending lives from at least the last couple millenia", they answered very casually. You sighed and held your head, now suffering from a migraine. "At least it doesn't disintegrate me", you took a deep breath and started rummaging through your closet. "Only if I want it to", Nanook explained. "Charming", you whisper to yourself in a sarcastic way and toss them a shirt, "put this on."

Kisses are such a novelty to them. They're like "what was that?"

"Affection." "Do it again."

One time you pressed several kisses to their shoulder and Nanook just slow-blinked at you for like 5 minutes, before resting their head on your shoulder.

✧ giving: gifts

Yaoshi loves to bestow "blessings" upon you. Though, you have to teach them at first what you would consider an acceptable present.

The first one is immortality if you want it. Yaoshi would love nothing more than for you to be by their side forever.

Their next attempts at gift-giving left you feeling a little lost. They manifest before you, excitedly grabbing your cheeks and your waist and your shoulders with their hands and pulling you into a kiss. "My dearest, I made you a creature", they exclaim and reveal a Frankenstein-esque abomination the size of a volleyball. You can't quite discern what it actually is but it looks like an abstract mixture of a hamster, frog and a dragon. "Uh...thank you?", you try to be as polite as possible, unsure what to do with the creature as it spits a smaller version of itself onto your bedroom floor and then disintegrates. "It reincarnates out of itself", Yaoshi explains. "I can see that", you nod with wide eyes, patting Yaoshi's head.

One day, Yaoshi guides your spaceship to a distant location. "This is a planet I renovated for you", they join you as you land and explain their thoughts behind all the different new kinds of flowers they created specifically for you. "You're my greatest inspiration", they kiss your cheek and wrap their arms around you.

You eventually sit them down and calmly explain to them that one planet is more than enough and that you definitely do not need another creature. You teach them about your customs of giving gifts and they listen attentively. Maybe a bouquet of flowers would do next time.

✧ receiving: quality time

Yaoshi wants you to stay by their side forever. They perceive the passage of time very differently from you, yet they treasure and vividly remember every second by your side. Your bond of love is a sacred one in their eyes and they want to feel as close as possible to you.

They especially love talking to you and learning about your experiences that are so vastly different from their own. Despite being so intertwined with life itself; Yaoshi learns so much about life just from being with you. They never would have imagined you could give them so many new perspectives on the universe just by sharing your thoughts and beliefs with them.

Yaoshi always listens to you attentively and you see a sense of childlike wonder in their eyes when you speak about the way you experience the world, the things you value and the memories you treasure.

"Isn't it marvelous; how we see the world through such different lenses and are entirely different entities, yet we love each other so deeply and unconditionally", their voice sounds soft as they pull you onto their lap, holding you with their six arms and planting kisses on the back of your neck repeatedly.

Unlike Nanook, Yaoshi is very clingy. Quality Time with you always involves touching you in some way, be it kissing you repeatedly or holding you tightly within their embrace. Sometimes they sing you to sleep with a gentle voice, running their fingertips over your shoulder.

[sun-kissy]

Hi San! I absolutely loveee your writing, and I thought I'd go ahead an request smth since it said your request were open! ☺️

Could I please ask for gn!reader x Remus Lupin, where reader is struggling during Christmas time and holidays, feeling guilty because of how much they're spending and how much others spend on them? I'd be so grateful, thank you so much! 🫶

i’m sorry for getting to this kind of late babe! but i hope you’re still able to enjoy 💕🫶

worth it | r.l.

remus lupin x gn!reader

summary: you don’t feel like you deserve remus’ gifts, he thinks you deserve the world

Remus arches an eyebrow. “None of them?”

“None of them,” you confirm, dumping all the clothes you tried on into the basket outside the fitting room. He wraps an arm around your waist on instinct, pulling you close as you walk.

“Not even the black one with the nice design?” Remus brushes his lips to your hairline, little squeeze to your hip. “That looked lovely on you, sweetheart.”

You shake your head. You feel bad, and then again bad for feeling bad. It’s inescapable.

His frown seems to deepen, though he lets you pull him along and out the shop. “I thought you liked it, though. Didn’t you?” He pinches your waist teasingly. “Or were you just saying that to appease me?”

“No, no. I did like it,” you murmur, subtly trying to steer Remus towards the carpark so you can go home. He didn’t take the hint, or maybe he didn’t want to, continuing to walk further into the mall. “I just… don’t need it.”

“But you want it.”

“No, I don’t want it.”

“Are you sure?” he smiles. “‘Cause it didn’t seem like you didn’t want it when you tried it and were showing it off –”

“Yes, I’m sure.” It comes out snappy, and you regret it instantly. “Sorry.”

He looks hurt for a brief moment, grip on your waist loosening. But then his mouth falls back into a thin line, not hostile but not quite a smile either. “No, dove, I’m sorry.” He bends down to kiss your cheek. Guilt seeps into the skin where his lips just touched. “I’m sorry. I don’t want this to feel like I’m forcing you, yeah? It’s okay if you didn’t like it.”

“Sorry,” you mumble again. He tsks, his way of gently chiding you not to apologise.

You walk around the atrium in silence for a bit. The mall is more crowded than usual, bustling sales and exhilarated mobs of shoppers. The holiday season was always like this.

Remus had gotten you some really lovely books you’d been wanting for Christmas. Along with some video games, clothes, jewellery, the lot. He had woken you up with a bunch of kisses, given you even more although your face fell at the sight of all the presents.

You hated it. Not the gifts, and you certainly didn’t hate Remus. It just didn’t feel like you deserved any of it, much less so much. Too much. He didn’t have to spend this much money on you, money he barely had, but he did – he did, even though you were worth none of it. It made you feel like the worst lover in the world.

“Hey, wait,” Remus tugs you to a stop. He sounds almost excited.

His hand drops from your waist to point at a shop. “That’s the one with the jewellery you like, isn’t it?”

“No,” you lie.

He gives you a funny look. You feel your heart start to climb up your ribcage.

“Come on, sweetheart. You’ve been talking about the silver necklace all year, can’t believe I didn’t get you it for Christmas. But it’s no worry, we can get it now.” His hand closes around yours as he moves towards the shop. You don’t budge.

Remus turns back towards you, confusion in his features obvious. “Dove?”

“No.”

He blinks. “Huh?”

You tear your eyes away from the necklace set on display. “I don’t… I don’t even like that shop, Rem. Dunno what you’re talking about.” You try to sound as nonchalant as you can.

Remus frowns at you but says nothing. It feels like he’s looking right through you, like he’s digging through your skull to find your secrets. It makes your heart flip some awful way.

Then he softens. The tension in his features dissipates, he gazes at you some colour of affectionate. You know he’s figured you out.

“What’s this about?” he asks anyway.

The gentle tone catches you off guard. “Nothing.”

“Hey, no,” he slides his hand up to your wrist, lightly squeezing. “Talk to me.”

“It really is nothing,” you protest meekly. “I told you, I just don’t like that shop. Or jewellery in general.”

“Sure you don’t,” he murmurs bemusedly, humouring you. He takes your other wrist into the curve of his palm too. “Why don’t you want me spending money on you, sweetheart?”

“What? No, no. It’s not that,” you answer quickly. “It’s just, um…”

Remus gives you a knowing smile. That melts the last bit of fight in you.

You sigh. “I just… I don’t want you wasting your money on me.”

“It’s not a waste, dove,” he says gently, thumbing your wrists. “Not if it’s you.”

“But it is,” you swallow. “I don’t – I don’t deserve it, all the presents, and money, and effort. I don’t.”

His face falls, smile dimming a little. But he still looks at you like you’re the prettiest thing on the planet. “That’s not true. Not one bit.”

You stay quiet.

“You do deserve it, sweet thing,” he continues, and you really want to believe him. “It’s not too much, it’s not a burden. You’re not a burden, y’know?”

“I know I’m not a burden.”

He presses a kiss to the soft skin between your brows. “Sometimes it doesn’t feel like you do, dove.”

“I like buying you things. I like spending money on you, making you feel loved. Because you are –” another peck to your nose, “– you are so loved. And you deserve to know it, okay?”

“Okay,” you mumble. “You love me, got it.”

Remus pulls you closer, needles his arm under yours to hold you in a half hug. “I do love you, sweetheart. And it was never my intention to bombard you with stuff, or make you uncomfortable. I’m sorry.”

“No, don’t be sorry,” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his stomach. “I don’t feel uncomfortable, just… overwhelmed. But not in a bad way.”

“Got it,” he says gently, pulling you in for a proper hug. You go easily. “Let’s start slow then, yeah? First things first, I’m gonna buy you that necklace.”

[juyeonszn]

BAD IDEA RIGHT?

PAIRING lee juyeon x f!reader

WORD COUNT 4.10k

GENRES … smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, literally porn with plot. like i’m so insane, enemies to “we fuckin” as reese put it 🥰, frat boy tbz again!!!, juyo is literally so irritating in the first half im not even gonna lie, he’s also a manwhore, making out, reader is a bit of a brat, juyeon has a dirty mouth, kinda dom!juyeon, vaginal fingering, oral (m! receiving), SHOWER SEX !12!1!, he’s hitting it from the back btw, unprotected sex, creampie, juyeon is actually… i don’t even know how to describe him writing his character made me want to claw at the walls lol

SUMMARY deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. but paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.

MORE heheheh im back 🤭 oh my god this was actually the cause of a week full of sleepless nights. i genuinely drove myself crazy writing this bc NEED FRRRR like idk i’m so 😭 delusional. ANYWAYS. ANON. THIS ONE IS FOR U. U REQUESTED THIS AND I RAN WITH IT. u wanted more juyeon, i deliver more juyeon ;) also shout out to ally, moni, AND reese for beta’ing 🥺 i love u my cupcakes!! prompt used: 18 <3

PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble

If there was anyone on Earth that you hated more than anything, it had to be Lee Juyeon.

To put things plainly, he was quite literally the bane of your existence. Being around him made your blood pressure skyrocket and gave you migraines that lasted for days. It was insane how one person could affect you so much by doing so little. It seemed as if he thrived off of getting under your skin.

Considering he was the captain and the pitcher of the baseball team, it wasn’t shocking. He was also a member of one of the most popular fraternities on campus. But he happened to be roommates with one of your best friends, and that made it ten times worse.

You’d known Changmin since third grade, along with Kevin and Chanhee. When he mentioned he’d be joining a fraternity in college, you were a bit apprehensive. All you knew about them was what you’d read in YA books and seen in movies. Neither gave them a good rep. Part of you wanted to talk him out of it, but you knew this was something you had to let him do, given you were adults and it was his college experience. At least you still had the other two under one roof.

The first time you met Juyeon was also the first time you attended a frat party. Changmin had just passed his initiation after waiting a year and he invited all of you to celebrate. You were excited for the most part since high school parties were more for an adrenaline rush due to the fact that your parents never let you go to them and you either snuck out or lied about going. You didn’t have to worry about the limitations of parents this go around.

The boys disappeared almost immediately upon arrival, leaving you to fend for yourself in the very crowded fraternity house. You could hardly pass through a room without bumping into somebody’s shoulder or elbow, huffing as you maneuver around the house equivalent to a sardine can. Your drink nearly spilled onto your top multiple times and you were glad you decided against the heels for the night.

You chugged the rest of the jungle juice in your cup as you stepped onto the patio, where it’s just as noisy and just as packed. You’re lucky enough to find an empty lounge chair near the house’s pool, unoccupied and calling your name. When your legs touch the plastic chair, you flinch at how hot it is, most likely from being in the sun all day.

“Woah, do you want a cushion?”

You look up at the source of the voice. You’ve seen him around campus before, and even at Changmin’s games. Lee Juyeon was just one of those people that you had to know, unless you’d been living under a rock. Just like everyone else in the world, you couldn’t deny how attractive he was. From this distance, you truly understood why girls would giggle like high schoolers over the guy.

“Uh, sure. Yeah, that would be great actually.” You nod, watching as he wanders towards the shed in the corner of the big ass backyard. He returns promptly, holding his red solo cup between his teeth and one hand on your lower back guiding you to a standing position so he could place down the cushion.

“As a thank you, can I get your name?” He gives you a cocky little smile that should’ve been a warning. And looking back on it, you should’ve seen his true personality sooner, to be completely honest. The way his lips curled at the corners, like a conniving bastard who got off on irritating others.

“It’s Y/N,” you say, messing with your empty cup. “I’d ask for yours, but I kinda already know.”

He laughs at that, scratching the back of his neck. “That’s not surprising.” It’s at this point that you’re starting to see through his sweet facade, but despite knowing better— despite always keeping your guard up— you let yourself fall for it just this once. All because you didn’t want to fuck things up for Changmin. He owed you big time.

“Well, you are a talented athlete.” You didn’t want to fuel what is probably already a massive ego, but you’d rather compliment his baseball skills than the fact that he was infamous for screwing around with half of the girls on campus. Technically, that was a feat of its own since he’d only been in school for a year.

“Oh, so you think I’m talented?” He rested a hand on your chair, leaning down to your level. Confidence oozed from every corner of his being and if you weren’t so self aware, perhaps you could’ve ended up like all those other victims of his charismatic behavior.

“I go to the games for Changmin,” you scoff, glancing away from his face to stop the heat rising up your neck. “I’ve only paid attention to you once or twice.”

“Yeah, sure. Let's go with that,” he bites his lip, blatantly checking you out. “I wouldn’t mind paying attention to you a little.”

“I’m unimpressed, Juyeon,” you snort, raising an eyebrow at him. “Does this shit really work on everyone?”

“I can drop the act if you want, baby. Just let me know when you’re ready to stop playing hard to get.” He stands upright, running a hand through his hair.

Every time you ran into Lee Juyeon after that, he was more and more insufferable. He knew his influence on you, too, if his smug fucking grin was anything to go by. You wish you could just slap it off of him. However, you stood by being the bigger person in any given situation, so that was off the table. (And half of you still felt a moral obligation to not get your friend into hot water.)

“Would it kill you to play nice every once in a while? I do live with the dude, you know.” Changmin whines, trailing you in the supermarket like a lost puppy.

“He’s got a point, N/N,” Kevin adds, humming as he tosses a boxed dinner into the cart. “I get that he’s a little bit of an overconfident douche, but rolling your eyes at him when he hasn’t even done anything just makes it worse on you. And JiChang, too, I guess.”

“Bro…”

You weren’t even sure why he decided to tag along with you and the other boys when you mentioned grocery shopping. In fact, he might as well have stayed his ass home if he was just going to gang up on you the whole time. Chanhee sighs dramatically, bringing your shopping cart to a halt.

“Can we not have a peaceful grocery trip? Is that impossible or something?” His lips form a thin line. “I swear, all we do is talk about how much Y/N hates Lee Juyeon. Can we please move on?”

“Thank you, Chanhee, I agree,” you nod along, walking backwards as you do so and ignoring the faces your friends make. “He makes me want to kill myself.”

“Who makes you want to kill yourself?”

You jump up, frightened by the sudden voice in your ear. Your friends all give you sheepish smiles, as if they’d already tried to warn you. (What shitty jobs they did.) With a hand over your heart, you turn around to meet— speak of the devil— none other than Lee Juyeon himself.

“What are you doing here?” Your eyes narrow and your arms cross over your chest. Luck could never be on your side when it came to this guy.

“Uh, last I checked, this was a public supermarket. Where I can publicly shop. I wasn’t aware that I had to run that by you. So sorry, sweetheart.” He pouts, his expression so theatrical you nearly give in to your constant urge to punch him in the face.

You feel your eye twitch, and it takes everything in you to step back and assess just how bad it would be if you committed murder right now. Changmin comes to your rescue, doing damage control as best as he can while Kevin attempts to talk you out of becoming a criminal.

The two frat brothers do their little fraternity handshake thing and then finally he’s out of sight, out of mind, allowing you to visibly relax. Chanhee purses his lips. “Okay, so maybe I do see where the anger comes from. And holy shit, Y/N, you have the patience of a saint.”

“The person you have called is unavailable! At the tone, please leave a message. When you have finished recording, you may—”

“Goddammit.” You curse, ending the unsuccessful call.

The downside of working far from campus, was working far from campus. You didn’t have your own car and usually relied on one of your roommates for a ride to and from. But now here you are, stranded at work while it’s pouring cats and dogs outside. Kevin was in class and Chanhee wasn’t picking up his phone. You could call Changmin, but you’re pretty sure he also had a class around this time.

Just as you’re about to succumb to your demise, you receive a text from Chanhee.

[2:57 pm] michael jackson: IM SO SORRY AJNSSJNW BUT SOMETHING CAME UP WITH A GROUP PROJECT

[2:57 pm] michael jackson: DONT WORRY THOUGH, IVE GOT IT COVERED UR STILL GETTING PICKED UP

“Could today get any worse?” You mutter to yourself, locking your phone and tossing it into your purse. As if your timing couldn’t be better, you spoke entirely too soon. Your eyes squint at the unfamiliar car rolling up under the carport. Your brows furrowed in confusion, because you had no idea who could be your saving grace. Chanhee was a wild card so who knew who he had on speed dial.

But then the passenger window rolls down and you wish the ground would just swallow you whole. Lee Juyeon grins that stupid fucking grin of his, beckoning you to his car as it unlocks when he shifts into park. You shake your head.

“No way. There is absolutely no way I am getting into that car.” You shout over the pelting rain.

Juyeon tsks, his eyes rolling when he reaches over the center console to open the door for you. “Is there anyone else who would drop everything they’re doing to pick you up in this weather?”

Your lips pull into a flat line. The answer was no, you didn’t have anyone else who would drop everything they were doing to pick you up in this weather. That was the reason Juyeon was here, you supposed. It didn’t mean you weren’t at least going down without a fight, though. Except, Lee Juyeon was a man who was all too comfortable with how expressive you were. Most notably towards him.

“What? Cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

“Fuck you. I’d rather walk.” You seethe, starting straight in the direction of your apartment. Juyeon groans at first, your constant need to prove yourself getting on his nerves for once. Then his eyes widen slightly when he realizes you’re not joking.

The truth was that the rain was freezing and you’d love to be in the shelter of a warm car. In fact, you didn’t really care that Juyeon was the person driving. But you were too deep into the bit now. You couldn’t just turn around and get in the car, for you had a pride to protect at this point.

“Shit.” Juyeon swears under his breath, reaching into the backseat to grab an umbrella. Sure he loved to tease you and rile you up, but he wasn’t cruel. Your friends would have his head on a silver platter if he let anything happen to you.

You pause in your steps when you’re no longer being showered in rain water. Juyeon holds the umbrella over your head with a worried expression. You feel kind of bad for making him chase after you even though he’d already gone out of his way to pick you up. Sometimes you wish your ego wasn’t so fragile. Maybe then you could accept help when you needed it instead of making things worse.

“Can you please stop being so stubborn and just get in the damn car, Y/N? Do you have to make everything difficult all the time?” Usually, pissing you off made him over the moon, but you can tell he’s not exactly pleased at the moment. You swallow thickly, nodding quietly and following him back to his car.

The whole drive to your apartment is silent save for the song playing on his speakers. It’s not as loud in comparison to the storm outside, but you’re grateful that it’s filling the space between you. If only Lee Juyeon hadn’t done such an excellent job ticking you off like a bomb, then maybe you would’ve just hopped in the passenger seat with ease. But no, he had to goad you until you made an irrational decision and now here you are.

As he pulls up to your building, you say a little prayer that you don’t regret your next actions. He stops as close to the stairs as he can, but you turn to him before unbuckling your seatbelt. With a deep breath, you ask, “Would you like to— uh— come inside?”

He glances from you to the stairs and then shrugs, parking in the nearest empty spot. He holds the umbrella over both of you as you make your way to your unit, lightly sprinting so you don’t get anymore soaked than you already are. You figured the least you could do was invite the dude into your home and offer him some hot tea, just so he could warm up before heading back to the TBZ house. Your roommates not being here to make fun of you was also a plus.

There’s still an unspoken tension even after you’ve shed your raincoats and shoes by the front door, settling into your apartment and its coziness. Juyeon sits at the breakfast bar as you busy yourself with preparing the kettle and getting a couple tea bags. His watchful gaze is a little intimidating now that you’ve seen his serious side.

Once you’ve finished making the tea, you set his mug in front of him. You look everywhere but him when you say, “I’m gonna take a shower if you’re okay waiting out here by yourself.” He doesn’t respond verbally, so you take it as your cue to leave.

You turn on the water to let it heat up before gathering your essentials. When you’ve completed your back and forth trip from the bathroom and your bedroom, you’re finally ready to just relax in your shower and forget about today’s events. But how could you ever truly relax with Lee Juyeon in your space, permeating your peace?

As you’re shutting the bathroom door, a foot jams itself between the threshold and stops you. You glance up from the floor to meet Juyeon’s eyes. They’re darker than you’re used to, a deep shade of brown that has your stomach twisting into knots.

“You know, Y/N, this game of cat and mouse is starting to get old,” he takes a step into the steaming room, locking the door behind him and trapping you. “Just admit to yourself that you want me.”

You sputter at his bold words, because you don’t. You don’t want Lee Juyeon. Why would you want Lee Juyeon? “I’m not gonna lie to myself. I don’t want you.”

He laughs humorlessly, closing the gap between you just a little more. You don’t have it in you to back away from him. He reaches a hand up to tuck some damp hair behind your ear. You’re still wet and cold from your stupid idea to walk in the rain, but Juyeon plans to warm you up perfectly. “You sure?”

“Positive,” you breathe.

“Why don’t we test that theory?” Now he’s got you backed into the wall, his face a hair’s breadth distance from your own. “I have a feeling I can change your mind.”

You don’t know if it’s the heat of the bathroom or Juyeon’s lips being so close, but so far simultaneously that has your brain turning into static. Your head feels fuzzy, like you’re watching TV on an empty channel through a blurry lens. You lick your lips, vision trained on his. “Why don’t we?”

That’s all the confirmation he needs to press your mouths together in a searing kiss, hotter than the temperature of the room. You feel him smile against you when you make no move to push him away, instead carding your fingers through his hair. He groans when you tug a bit, twirling the longer strands around your index.

His hands slip under your top, thumbs rubbing circles into your waist. This is a terrible idea. Deep down you’re fully aware that you’re probably making a huge mistake by giving into Juyeon just like every other girl on campus ever has. But paired with how intoxicating his mouth feels on your own and the steam filled bathroom clouding your head, you can’t seem to find a logical reason to stop.

When you part for air, you both start stripping your top layers, resuming your attacks on each other’s lips once you’re left in nothing but undergarments. Juyeon trails kisses along the side of your neck, nipping and sucking wherever he feels fit. You gasp when he finds that particular spot that contributes to the butterflies fluttering about your stomach. “God, you’re so annoying.”

“Yeah?” And despite getting ready to give you the pleasure of your life, his grin against your skin still manages to irritate you. “You hate me so much, huh?”

“Mhm,” you whine as his fingers dip beneath the band of your panties, toying with your sensitive cunt. “Hate you so bad— ah…”

“You might wanna shut up soon, sweetheart,” Juyeon warns, sliding his ring finger between your lower lips. “Or else I’ll give that mouth something to do.”

“I’ll do whatever I want,” you pull his hand from your underwear, kneeling in front of him when he furrows his eyebrows in confusion. Your nails scrape lightly down his abdomen before hooking into the waistband of his briefs, freeing him from the material. It takes a lot out of you to not visibly react at the sight of his cock, hard and flushed to the tip. You couldn’t dare inflate his ginormous ego, the situation you were currently in already doing enough on its own. His size is impressive too, making you wonder just how he expects you to take him like a champ.

“What a fucking brat,” he hisses, your tongue swiping along the underside of his dick. “Always gotta have the last word, don’t you?”

“Mmmm,” you moan, mouth full with just the tip. You’d never been the type of person who cared about size. As long as they knew what they were doing and made you finish, you held no qualms with their length. In fact, you don’t think you ever even paid much attention to anyone’s dick in your life. But if there was anything to back Lee Juyeon’s cockiness, it had to be, well, his cock.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve imagined this moment,” he confesses, wrapping your hair around his hand into a makeshift ponytail. “But, fuck, this is so much better.”

The admission shoots straight to your core and you find yourself whimpering, the vibrations against his dick driving him crazy. He has to support his weight with one hand flat to the wall, the other still tightly fisting your hair. With every suck and flick of your tongue, he tugs a little more, the sting on your scalp providing you with more pleasure than pain. You pull off of him to take a breath, jerking him off as you do so.

“Am I meeting your expectations?” You bat your eyelashes up at him, drool sliding down your chin and makeup smeared under your eyes in tear streaks. He groans at the sight of you, forcing you to a standing position so he could kiss you again.

You start dragging him towards the shower, unhooking your bra and stepping out of your panties. He raises an eyebrow at you, amused. “You want me to fuck you in the shower, baby? Have you slipping all over my cock?”

“Duh,” you can’t help but roll your eyes at his question, practically pawing at his underwear to get him out of them fully. “Did you think I sucked your dick on the bathroom floor for fun?”

“That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble one of these days.”

He kicks them off, reconnecting your lips as you step into the shower. The hot water hits your back almost like a massage, synchronously getting in your mouth as you make out with Juyeon aggressively. It’s like he can’t get enough of you, big hands kneading and groping everywhere and nowhere all at once. You feel insane, especially with how good of a kisser he is. It’s like you’re on cloud nine and nothing’s capable of bringing you down.

When he’s finally lost his patience, he spins you around, pressing you cheek first to the shower wall. You feel him against your lower back, his lips leveling with your ear. In spite of acting as if he had himself under control, you can hear the pant in his breathing, deep voice a little desperate than usual. He has a hand gripping your thigh and picking up your leg.

“No protection?” He asks, his cock already gliding between your folds in anticipation.

“Mm-mm,” you shake your head as best you can with his body sandwiching you to the tiled surface. “Wanna feel you raw.”

“Fuck, you can’t say shit like that to me,” Juyeon groans into your ear, giving no warning as he spits down your front and hikes your leg higher, thrusting into your cunt. “You’ll make me wanna stay buried in you forever.”

You moan, hand coming up to hold the side of his head as he fucks you into the shower wall. If someone were to ask about this very moment, you weren’t too sure how you’d defend yourself. A moment of weakness, perhaps? But if a moment of weakness felt this fucking good every time, you might fall into a habit of judgment lapses.

He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, nibbling and biting your shoulder and the surrounding area with each snap of his hips. The angle he drives into you at has stars forming at the back of your vision, the tip of his cock brushing that one spot deep inside of you whenever he thrusts up. You don’t even think his entire dick is in you as he does this, but you also don’t really have the mind to care, way too focused on memorizing the veins of his shaft with your walls.

You’re far too gone to consider the consequences of your actions, the horizon of your release just beyond your fingertips now. You’d never needed someone so viscerally before, so carnally. Yet here you were, sucking Lee Juyeon’s cock in with your pussy like you were a damn vacuum. The sounds you’re making bounce back and forth on the walls, no doubt louder than the shower water itself.

“I— I-I’m so— fuck,” you mewl, words wobbling. “I’m so, so close, Juyo.”

“Yeah, baby?” He sighs in your ear, nudging your sensitive clit with his thumb while raising your leg as much as he physically can. “Me too, where do you want me?”

“Inside,” you don’t think you even make sense anymore, babbling as he continues to fuck you stupid. “Please. Want you to cum inside me.”

Juyeon grits his teeth, pleased with himself that he didn’t orgasm right then and there. He uses his last ounce of strength to get the two of you off together. “C’mon, sweetheart, cum for me.”

The fogginess subsides pretty quickly after you’ve finished, your brain registering what just happened almost instantaneously. If you weren’t so hypersensitive, you would’ve pulled him out yourself and scrambled to flee the scene. (And maybe even the country.) There are many more rational thoughts running through your head now. The entire trajectory of your life has just been changed, whether you realized it or not. But the biggest issue was:

What the hell do you do now?

© juyeonszn. do not steal, claim, or repost.

[hannahhook7744]

Why Franklin and Maryann Portman are the Worst™ (Part 1)!;

I want to preface this by saying that I know that by no means Franklin and Maryann Portman are the actual worst parents in fiction or in this series even. 

Of course they aren't. 

But that doesn't mean that I can't still refer to them as the worst™ for them being shitty. Even if I do believe that on some leave that they do care about/love their son. 

I also wanna point out that it's been awhile since I read the books so I'm going off my memory and the wiki for this. So I may forget some context of why this or that happens, and if I do that, feel free to comment it down below respectfully. And if I forget something that you find shitty that they did, also feel free to reblog or comment it down below because I would love to talk about these characters and fandom more.

Am I saying that Abe Portman is 100% perfect and did nothing wrong whatsoever? No, that would go against how his character is betrayed in the books—as a flawed traumatized man who did his best to be there for his family and keep them and himself (as well as others) safe and went about some things the wrong way. 

 Now that that's out of the way…

According to the wiki:

“Jacob was born on Halloween, and up until he was eight years old was convinced by his parents that trick-or-treating candy was birthday presents (something apparently revealed in Hollow City).” 

These people are rich. 

R-I-C-H. 

Rich enough that Jacob’s dad can study birds and volunteer and write mine books that he never publishes without the worry of them not having anything to eat. 

R-I-C-H enough that Jacob comments that “I did love her, of course, but mostly because loving your mom is mandatory, not because she was someone I think I'd like very much if I met her walking down the street. Which she wouldn't be, anyway; walking is for poor people.” And rich enough that they gave their kid their four year old sundan so that they could get a brand new car. 

And for eight years, they had their son believing that candy was a birthday present. 

1. Now, look. I get it. Birthday shopping is hard, especially for a little itty bitty kid but not actually having the money to buy your only kid gifts and choosing not to because people are handing out candy on that day anyway? That's not a very nice thing to do for that long. 

They let him go through three years of school thinking that and we never learned how he found out that was a lie. That's not even including the fact that the rest of their extended family let this lie continue (assuming they knew). 

Can you imagine if Jacob found out because he mentioned this to his classmates or a teacher? Maybe a teacher or family member could salvage the situation but little kids can be brutal, especially towards other little kids who they think are wrong and considering we know that in that same year, Jacob was pants-ed causing him to stop believing anything Abe said…. It's not entirely out of the realm of possibility tl believe that one of Jacob's classmates got in a fight with him over it and caused some kind of embarrassing, painful memory. 

Though I guess it's a good thing they didn't get Jacob birthday presents that early on considering my second point. 

2. The birthday scene. 

Look at his birthday scene. 

This scene? Shouldn't really exist. 

Not because I hate birthday scenes but because Jacob literally told his parents he didn't want a party which under normal circumstances is a reasonable ask within itself. But these? These aren't even normal circumstances. 

Jacob doesn't want a party because the one person he'd actually want there, in his own words, is his grandpa. His grandpa who died in his arms nine months before and who Jacob has been viciously mourning for said nine months. His grandpa whose death caused Jacob's ‘mental breakdown’. 

Whose house they had also cleaned out recently, doing shit all for the now sixteen year old’s mental health and grief. 

But what do his parents do? 

Throw him a surprise party.

A surprise party.

For their jumpy traumatized son who found his grandpa bleeding out in the dark after getting attacked by a monster (or ‘rabid dogs’) and who has been sleeping in the fucking laundry room. 

Why on earth would going against his wishes be good for him? He said he didn't want a party and under these circumstances, it's even more understandable. If you really want your son to socialize or to celebrate, then get him a cake or some food he likes and invite his friend over. Talk to him. 

Don't throw him a party he doesn't want and don't throw the kid who's been having non-stop nightmares about the monsters who killed his grandfather a fucking surprise party. 

To make matters, in this party:

One of his uncles he’s not close to tries to spring a summer trip to his house on him, listing shit that he likely knows Jacob doesn't like with no previous warning to the kid himself (his parents were just planning to ship him off, whether he wanted it or not). 

They're calling Jacob's apparent disorder ‘his thing’. 

And nobody is actually getting him anything he wants. Just shit they've been gifted and are trying to get rid of. 

Gifts like CD's of country Christmas music or subscriptions to Field and Stream (because his Uncle Les thinks he's outdoorsy, this one I can understand slightly since Jacob did want to be an adventurer but still). 

The only exceptions being:

 1. The key to the family four-year-old sedan, which Jacob is embarrassed to be receiving in front of Ricky (who Jacob hasn't talked to in a long while after a fight they had). 

And 

2. A camera Jacob had been wanting for ages (since last summer) from his parents….who likely only gifted it to him because of his dad's new book.

Which leads to his mom drunkeningly making front of her husband at her sixteen year old’s birthday party…. Real classy. 

Oh and 3. A book that belonged to Abe that Jacob's parental Aunt Susie snagged trom the house when they were cleaning it out. A book titled “The Selected Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson”. 

She gave this to him, saying it was from Abe because he'd written Jacob's name in it. 

Thoughtful right? 

Well everyone else doesn't think so because they go quiet. Jacob's mom, Maryann even while drunk, tries to say it was thoughtful and that she didn't know Abe was a reader.

Meanwhile Jacob's dad, Franklin, is barely hiding how pissed he is. 

Like dude. 

Dude. 

Do you really hate your own dad so much that you don't want your grieving son to have even just a book of poems that the only member of the family who he was close to left for him? Are you still, even after that disastrous day where you cleaned out the fucking house with him there and fought with him, refusing to let him have any ties left?

To be fair, you can say that this is because of his own history with Abe and that it's because Jacob is in a worrying state. But that doesn't really hold up considering that they let Abe babysit Jacob often and fill his head up with stories they thought he embellished  due to his own trauma and because they thought that Jacob was well enough to handle trashing and donating all of his dead grandpa’s stuff. 

Sure, they don't take the book from him but the fact Franklin can't even hide how pissed he is is shitty. 

That's not even considering this little tidbit here:

“My mother leaned toward me and in a tense whisper asked if I needed a drink of water, which was mom-speak for keep it together, people are staring.”

….

Do I even need to say anything?

The fact that Jacob thinks this probably means that his parents—or even just Maryann—have said this to him before. Frequently so, even. To the point where he's trying to escape the room, feeling like he might cry, and instead of thinking that his parents (or anyone in this family) might be able to potentially comfort him in this hard moment, this is what he's thinking. 

It's infuriating.

But not as infuriating as my last point for now!

3. Franklin sent his then fifteen year old son to deal with what he thought was his dementia ridden, war world 2 veteran father having a PTSD attack/episode. 

Franklin gets called when he's volunteering at a bird rescue in what is either early afternoon or night by his worried fifteen year old said who tells him that Abe called him ‘flipping out’. 

He asks if he's taken his pills today and Jacob tells him Abe wouldn't tell him. 

At this point, any reasonable adult would go and help their poor ailing father who may be having an episode or PTSD attack about the war, what happened to his family. The monsters. 

At this point, any reasonable adult would send their son home out of danger and call up a friend or sibling or in-law to go deal with the situation. 

What does Franklin do?

He sends his fifteen year old, who is at his job, to go check on Abe. Who again, Franklin thinks is having an episode. 

Now, even if there was a chance that Abe would still recognize Jacob and wouldn't be a danger to him, who would risk sending their son to check on an ailing relative by himself when there's every chance that when Jacob gets there he'll be having flashbacks to the horrors he witnessed. I mean, it's understandable if you or another adult is there and need help calming the man for you to maybe have your teenage son there. Especially if he may be caring for him one day out of choice.

But sending your fifteen year old there by himself to handle the situation when he probably won't know what to do and when he probably hasn't seen one before?

And doing that when you know that your dad was in a war and still has a sea of weapons hidden away behind lock and key (a key which you have) because you can't be half assed to tell the shelter your volunteering at that there's a family emergency?

Franklin literally sent Jacob into a traumatizing situation that could turn dangerous (for Abe or Jacob, if Abe didn't recognize his grandson) under the assumption that all of his paranoid dad's weapons are stored away. 

And what did Abe die with in his hand?

A box cutter. 

Which just proves that Abe had things lying around that he could use as a weapon if needed. Things he could improvise with. 

Just think for a moment about what could have wrong if Abe wasn't actually in danger from a wight but something he was actually imagining—a memory from his past. Imagine what could have happened to Jacob if Abe had mistaken him for a burglar or a wight or what Franklin thought he was imagining.

Jacob can't fight. 

It's dark. 

Things could easily go wrong.

And what would happen if they did?

Jacob would be hurt and traumatized or dead and Abe would likely be in a horrible place if he wasn't, all because Franklin didn't care enough about his dad to go check on him himself. Hell you can he didn't even care about Jacob enough here, because he didn't care about what Jacob could possibly see if he sent him to deal with his grandfather.

Like, not only is he being incredibly shitty to his son but to his own ailing father who was at the very least convinced he was in danger and who was actually in danger (for all Franklin knew his dad could have actually heard someone breaking in but he didn't even take the time to think about it). 

That's all I have time to write for today but there's several other things that they do that are pretty crappy where their son is involved that I will happily discuss.

Hope this doesn't disappoint, @kallmeweirdhprroe .

[cozage]

Congratulations on hitting 2k🎉🎉

I really love your writing and I’d love to see how you think the op boys would react to their s/o getting jealous you could maybe do ace law and luffy?

Characters: gn reader x Ace, Law, Luffy Cw: Put your rose-colored glasses on, folks. Because we got some red flags (cough cough Law)  Total word count: 1.6k

Jealous Reader

Ace

Ace is just being fun. He’s just too oblivious to realize the other people are flirting. He doesn’t notice the soft touches across his torso, or how they lean in closer to him every time they laugh. But you do. 

“You don’t look like you’re having fun,” he said halfway through the night. “We can go, if you want.”

“Wouldn’t want to take you away from your fan club,” you spat back, venom in your words. But he either didn’t notice or he pretended not to.

“Yeah, they’re funny aren’t they?” He laughed. “They all buy me drinks whenever I tell a new story. Hospitality here is amazing!”

“Right.” You got up to leave. “Have fun with that.”

“What?” his brows furled together in confusion. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the ship.” And with that, you slammed the door closed. 

A few seconds later, he’s racing after you into the crowded street.

This man has no idea what he did wrong, but he’s trying to make it right. 

He abandons everyone in that bar without even a goodbye, and as his fingers lace through yours, you can’t help but feel a little better about that. 

He kisses your cheek and follows you closely, not wanting you to get away from him. He knows you all need to talk, but he also knows this crowded street isn’t the place to do it. 

When you all get back to your room, you try to break away from him, but he pulls you into an embrace, strong warm arms wrapping around you. 

“You’re the only one I have eyes for, you know that right?” he said, rubbing your back lightly. 

“Didn’t feel like it tonight,” you mumbled harshly. 

“Well you are.” He tilted your face up so he could cover it with kisses. “I just use those people to get free drinks.”

“I know,” you whispered, leaving your head against his chest to hear his heartbeat. “Doesn’t make it any easier to watch though.”

“Okay.” Ace kissed the top of your head. “Won’t do it anymore.”

You looked up at him, surprised. “Really?”

“Of course!” He kissed your lips now, gently reminding you that he was all yours. “Your feelings aren’t worth some free booze.”

Law

Of course this woman was some fancy doctor. Of course Law had read her book. All her books. And now he had been gone from your all’s table for almost thirty minutes to talk to her. 

She wasn’t just polite. She was friendly. Overly friendly. You had watched as she had scooted closer and closer to your boyfriend, minimizing the gap between their bodies. 

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You got up from your seat and ignored the snickering of Shachi and Penguin from the table. 

“Law, dear.” You gave a strained smile to him and the woman. “I hate to rush you, but we’re kind of on a schedule.”

Law stood, still staring at the woman. “Wow! The time really flew by. Thanks for letting me pick your brain.”

“Oh doctor,” the woman cooed, a seductive smile on her face. “The pleasure was all mine. Feel free to find me any time you want to have a…chat”

“Thanks for being patient,” Law said as the two of you walked away. “It’s not often I-”

“Let’s go,” you said to the others as you walked past the table, not pausing for a moment. “The captain made us late.”

You don’t use “Captain” often. And based on your tone, Law had to guess he was in trouble. 

The snickers from Shachi and Penguin weren’t helping either. They had surely watched you become more and more irritated as time went on, so they had a pretty good idea of what was going on,  

“Can you give me some pointers? Any warnings?” Law mumbled to his crewmates, desperate to get a read on your emotions. 

“You don’t know what you did?” Penguin asked as Shachi burst into laughter, causing all three of them to receive a glaring look from you

When you got back to the Polar Tang, you made a beeline for your bedroom. Law didn’t follow. He assumed you needed a bit to cool off. Plus he wanted to check out another book from the woman he had just met. 

After a few hours, Law rubbed his drooping eyes, and finally decided to see you again. He still had no idea why you were so upset. 

You were asleep in the bed, but you had built a pillow divider between his side in yours. He rolled his eyes and quickly pulled the pillows away, curling into you. 

You tried to push him away, proving you weren’t asleep, but he wouldn’t let you. 

“Can you tell me why you have such an attitude?”He was irritated, and you laughed at the irony. You were the one who was supposed to be irritated, not him. 

“Why don’t you go ask that famous doctor since you care about her more than-”

He scoffed, cutting you off. “You can’t be serious.”

You stared at him for a long moment, and then turned away from him, pouting at his words. 

“I’ve read her books, that’s all. Can you stop acting like a child with this petty jealousy?”

His words tipped you over the edge. “I’ll stop acting like a child when you treat me like an equal!” you yelled. You rose to your feet and quickly strode out the door, slamming it behind you. 

Oh, he really fucked up now. His tongue was always getting him in trouble.

He scoured the Polar Tang, searching for you. He finally found you on the couch and curled up next to you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “That was really insensitive of me to say. If the situation were reversed, I would be upset too. I’ll do better in the future, okay?”

You gave him a slight nod, and he quickly shambled you both back to the bed to get some much-needed sleep. 

Luffy

“Oh, Hancock is coming, right?!” Luffy asked. “I like her!”

“And we all know how she feels about you,” you mumbled under your breath. Your comment sparked laughter from Nami, causing Luffy’s attention to drift over to you. 

“What’s funny?” He asked. “I want to be in on the joke!”

“Nothing,” you grumbled. You could see Boa Hancock’s ship in the ocean, and your stomach churned with dread. “Sanji, do you need any help in the kitchen?”

Working with Sanji had been a bad idea. Boa Hancock was beautiful. And while you could hear her fawning over your boyfriend on the deck, Sanji fawned over her in the kitchen 

It was only thirty minutes before you gave up and retreated to your room. You were in a bad mood, but this was a celebration, and you didn’t want to ruin it. 

Luffy entered the kitchen looking for two things: Meat and you. “Sanji! Y/N-hey, where are they?”

Sanji shrugged. “Said they weren’t feeling well. Not sure.”

Luffy headed to your all’s room. Now that he thought about it, you had been off. You hadn’t been chatty or smiled most of the day, and he was starting to get worried you were really sick. 

As you heard the turn of the doorknob, you quickly wiped away your stray tears. But your eyes were still red and puffy. 

“Oh man!” Luffy sat down next to you on the bed, staring at your face. “Your allergies are terrible! You should’ve told me, we could’ve moved to another season ecosystem!”

His idiocy made you let out a garbled laugh, trying to hide your true feelings about the party. 

“It’s fine,” you said, shaking your head. But your bottom lip trembled, giving you away.

“You’ve been crying.” He stated it as a fact, not a question. He knew you too well for you to hide your tears for long. He smushed your cheeks together and held your face so you couldn’t avoid his gaze any longer. “Did Sanji make you cry?”

“No.” You tried to pull away from his grip, but he clamped down on your cheeks so you couldn’t escape. He wouldn’t let you leave his gaze until he figured out what was wrong. 

While you were here alone with him, all your worries felt so silly. Luffy didn’t even realize Hancock was in love with him. If you brought it up now, you’d be causing a big scene. 

“It’s stupid,” you whispered, but he only frowned at you. He opened his mouth to say something. 

“Luffy!” Hancock called from behind the door, interrupting his thoughts. “Are you in there? Should I come in?”

You rolled your eyes at her voice. Of course she came to find him. He had been gone for too long, and he was the only reason she was here. 

You tried to hide your disdain for the empress, but Luffy caught it, and his eyes widened. “You don’t like her!” he whispered. 

“Luffy, can we not do this right now?” you hissed, and the door opened. 

“Oh!” Hancock blushed seeing you and Luffy so close, but she glared daggers at you. “I didn’t realize you were with someone, Luffy.”

Luffy’s eyes slid between you and her, trying to figure it out. He was so close to the revelation, but he just couldn’t get there. 

The three of you rejoined the party reluctantly, but Luffy kept you close to him for the rest of the night. 

He’s always been a physical touch person, and tonight you were grateful for it. He was always holding your hand or had his arm wrapped around you. He stayed close, and even though you got death stares from Hancock, at least you had Luffy by your side to make it more manageable. 

[mphoenix-7]

Bitter Allies [Soap x Reader]

Chapter 7: The Cabin: Day 3

Summary: What starts out as a peaceful morning quickly turns steamy after an argument.

Word Count: 9,565

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, swearing, angst, strong language, arguing, smut, p in v, rough sex, hate sex, unprotected sex, fingering

A/N: Yeah, you read the warnings right. It’s time. When I tell you this chapter took days to write 😭 different parts got rewritten like four times. The final product is nothing like the drafts. Even editing it there was stuff added, and I got to the point where I just needed to stop and post it. Please enjoy!

Masterlist | <- Previous | Next ->

Bitter Allies • Part 7

The storm settled down about thirty minutes after you and Soap ate. It still continued to rain, but the thunder was moving off into the distance, and the wind had stopped completely. You were still forced to stay inside, but at least the worst of the storm had passed. You could look for the damages done tomorrow.

Soap laid down after he finished eating and just rested. You didn't say anything more to each other about his episode, and you didn't expect him to open up. It was a little different for everyone, but sometimes talking about it made it worse. With nothing better to do, you also laid down. The sound of the rain falling softly outside was eventually enough to lull you into sleep. 

The next morning, you'd gotten up super earlier. Given the fact you probably went to sleep around 1900 (or 7 pm) that made sense. Soap was still asleep when you got up. He was sleeping on his back, an opened black journal balanced on his chest, and a pencil still in his hand. His arms were bare, meaning sometime last night he'd probably stripped down to his underwear again.

Leaving him be, you got up and decide to see what the damages were from last night's storm. You moved both rocks away from the doors then went out the back door, closer to the lake.

There were tiny sticks everywhere in the back. Once they dried out, they'd be great for the wood stove inside. A few larger branches were also scattered about. The one that caused the loud scrapping noise last night had just barely missed the outhouse, and its limbs were propped right up against the side of the cabin. If it'd fallen a few inches closer, it would have hit the roof. You hate to think about what would have happened if it had.

Hopefully this was the last of the rain for a while. You weren't sure if you could take another storm, and shockingly, not because of Soap. Honestly it hadn't been the absolute worst thing to be trapped inside with the Scot. It'd mostly just been boring. But then again Soap had been out of it most of the night because of the episode he had. You had feeling things would have ended in a shouting contest if he hadn't. Regardless, you didn't want that or for him to get triggered by another thunderstorm.

Luckily, the sun was out, birds were singing, and there wasn't a raincloud in sight. It was beautiful out, and you wanted to enjoy the morning. You hadn't had the chance to go on a walk or a run yet. It would be nice to start off your morning positive for once, unlike the last few days.

To be expected after a storm, it was fairly muddy, puddles of water everywhere. The lake had also risen quite a bit with the new water level came right up to the tree where Soap had been sitting yesterday. So a walk along the shore wasn't going to be possible, but you could handle a little mud in the woods. Heading back inside to the bedroom, you make the decision to go on a nice walk around the woods.

Soap is still asleep on his cot, his brows pinched together slightly, and his book still balanced on his chest. The pencil had slipped from his hand though and now just lay beside him. You move around the room as silently as you can, grabbing the things you need and trying not to wake him in the process. He'd make a sound every now and then, but he never woke up.

Once you were ready, you pause at the bedroom door and look over to his sleeping form. You were debating if you should wake him up to let him know you were going. He hadn't given you that courtesy before. Maybe it was time for a little payback. Time for him to wake up and not know where you are. Odds are though, you'd be back before he's even up. Or he simply wouldn't care.

With that in mind, you gently shut the bedroom door, and head off for your walk.

***

For the first time since arriving to the cabin with Soap, you finally feel some of the stress melting away as you walk through nature. It smells like dirt and rain, and it's absolutely perfect. Even the tension is your shoulders seems to be easing up a bit as well.

You're not sure how long you've been gone. There was no way to keep track of time. At some point though, you decide to turn around and start head back the way you came. You didn't want to go too far from the cabin in case you got lost.

As you're stepping over a fallen tree you used as a landmark to let you know you are heading in the right direction, you hear some rustling coming from some densely packed foliage behind you. You pause for a moment, watching the now still bush. Just as you're about to brush it off as nothing, you swear you hear a growl or a grunt. Adrenaline floods your system, triggering your fight or flight instincts. In this case, you go with the ladder reflex.

Jumping off the falling tree trunk, you start to walk with a quicker pace, trying to distance yourself from whatever you heard. The thought of it being a bear or a mountain lion crossing your mind, making a new fear run down your spine. Sure, you were highly trained in stuff like hand-to-hand, but your expertise was in protecting yourself against humans and maybe dogs, not wild animals. If you had a gun, then yes, you could absolutely take on a wild animal, but you didn't even so much as have a knife on your person to defend yourself with.

As you walk, you keep looking back over your shoulder, though you never see anything. While you are distracted and not looking where you're going, you suddenly step in something squishy. Stopping and looking down, you discover you've stepped in what is probably bear poop. A big fresh pile.

You gag a bit and remove your foot, trying to desperately kick and wipe it off on the foliage and nearby trees. The shit on your shoe distracts you momentarily from the thing you'd been trying to get away from. It's when you hear more of the rustling and sniffing sounds that your blood runs cold.

You look around again, still not seeing anything. The greenery around you is far too dense to get a good view. You know you have to get away, but not knowing what the threat was is really beginning to freak you out.

Forgetting about your soiled shoe, you start to walk again, trying to fight the urge to run. Rationally, you knew that could cause whatever it is that's following you to start chasing you. You just want to be back in the safety of the cabin with Soap. Why didn't you bring one of the flares or the knife? It was just a pocket knife, but it would have been better than nothing. 

Once some distance has been made, you pause and listen to see if you're safe. You can still hear the soft low rumbles and the shuffling of leaves like something is tracking you. Soon enough, you can't help it anymore; you start to run. You've got to be almost back by now. Surely you can just outrun whatever it is.

It's hard to listen for anything chasing you while you're running, but every time you look behind you, you don't see anything. The bushes are moving, but you can't tell if it's cause you just slammed through them or if you're really being chased. Not wanting to know the answer, you don't dare to stop until you see the cabin.

Relief floods your system when you see the clearing that houses the cabin. The moment you cross the thresh hold, you expect to feel safe. However you don't. You look back towards where you just came from and watch for any signs that the mystery animal is still following you. There isn't any movement or sounds, only the labored sounds of your breath from running. Slowly, you start to back up towards the cabin, senses heightened.

When your back hits something solid, hands grabbing you, you don't process immediately that it's just Soap. Your mind is still in survival mode. You scream and start trying to fight, getting a few angry and surprised sounds out of the Scot.

"Oof-! Steaming fucking Jesus, States!"

Soap had gotten up shortly after you left. When he couldn't find you, he'd assumed you were out in the woods somewhere and just went about his morning. He also surveyed the damages and decided to pick up sticks until you came back.

When he heard a ton of rustling on one side of the cabin, he went to check it out, and there you were. Your back was to him and you were taking slow steps towards him. You'd been about to run into him, and all he did was put his hands up to stop you, and then you started attacking him.

"What the fuck has gotten into you!?" He grabs your wrists, and you're quick to stop trying to hit him once you come to your senses. You look into his eyes, then hear the sound of the leafs rustle again. Your gaze snaps back to the tree line.

"Something was following me. I-I think it was a bear. I ran all the way back." You find yourself pressing back into Soap. His hands move from your gripping your wrists to holding your sides by your ribs once you turn.

You don't notice it, but Soap stares down at you for a second as you huddle against him. His eyes are softened and filled with concern before turning hard as he scans the woods, looking for this bear. He keeps holding you, keeping your smaller frame close to him. You can feel his hold on you tighten a bit, almost protectively.

As he does, without even fully realizing it yourself, you're starting to relax into his hold. Your body is naturally pulling towards him. He's warm and feels like safety. It's when the fear in the pit of your stomach is replaced with butterflies that you notice all these feelings. You try to tell yourself it's just remnants of adrenaline.

When there's a little more rustling, Soap starts to wordlessly move. His hands drift to your hips, and he moves around you. "Stay here." He mutters to you, walking to the tree line, picking up a big stick along the way for protection.

"Soap, wait! What are you doing?" You really don't want to see him get mauled by a wild animal, but there's not much you can do to stop him aside from pick up a stick for yourself and try to help.

Soap pauses to listen carefully for any movement or signs of danger before poking the stick into the green shrubs in an attempt to startle whatever is in there. You tense up as he does, hands gripping your stick tightly, prepared to fight whatever it is he startles.

A little squeak comes from the bush, and Soap watches as a two squirrels dart back into the woods and up a tree. It causes a laugh to bubble in his chest, one he tries to stop, but soon, his hands are on his knees, and he is laughing at you. All you can do is stand there and glare at him, dropping your stick. It makes a dull thump as it hits the ground.

"It was just a few wee fucking cons! You were running from a squirrel!" He laughs, making your cheeks turn a deep shade of red. You're were not too fond of being laughed at.

"I wasn't running from a squirrel!! I heard growling and-"

Soap is still laughing at you. Any "butterflies" you might have had when he held you were crushed immediately. You hadn't been running from a squirrel. Whatever it was had been big and had a deep growl.

"It was a bear! I swear. I even stepped in its shit!" You motion down to your boot, which just looked muddy, but you knew better. "There was at least one nearby!" This just makes Soap laugh even harder.

"You stepped in bear shite too? Oh, that's too fucking good. I bet that fucking sucks." You don't feel like he's sympathizing with you at all. "Have fun cleaning that mess up. Let me know if you need me to scare off anymore angry, growling squirrels, eh lass?"

Your face is getting red with anger and embarrassment more and more by the second. "Stop laughing at me, you fucking dick! I know what I heard!" You shout at him. It had to have been a bear.

Soap sighs as he finally calms down a little, wiping his eyes like he's wiping away tears. His amused express is at restarting to grow a little irritated with your continued claims about the bear. "Oh quit your fussing! There's no bear here, so just pull that stick from out of your ass and calm down."

"How about you stop acting like I'm stupid! Like I'm making it all up, or I'm some paranoid idiot! Even if it was nothing, it still felt like I was being chased."

Soap rolls his eyes, huffing a little. "States, seriously, you're fine so let it go. Stop acting like a wee little girl and start acting like you're a grown ass woman in the military. Go inside, calm down a bit, and come help me pick up sticks."

You roll your eyes at him. You know what you heard. You know how you felt. He could say you got scared by squirrels, but you knew better.

"Go fuck yourself, Soap. I'm not helping you with shit. I'm hungry. I'm going to make food." You grumble, leaving him and stomping towards the cabin.

"Make me some too, aye?!" He calls after you. He was insufferable. You still have four more days of this. The third wasn't even close to being over.

"No!" You shout back, getting a scoff from him.

"Brat." He mutters under his breath as he watches you disappear around the side of the cabin.

You retreat to the cabin, kicking your poop covered shoe off by the door outside before you went in. You'd had enough of being in the woods for today. Outside for that matter. You were certain there was a bear out there somewhere, and you weren't looking to run into it again. If possible, you were content to stay inside and read the rest of the day.

You search around a little bit for something good to eat, eventually settling on making some eggs. Putting a log and a few sticks in the stove, you get a fire going. You set the only frying pan you had on the stove top and wait for it to heat up. Once it does, you take out the eggs and flip the carton open.

Before you can grab one, a scratching sound near the front door makes you jump. You're tense for only a few seconds before huffing and relaxing. It had to just be Soap messing with you.

"Fuck off, MacTavish!" You shout, trying to go back to your cooking, but it keeps happening. Sighing in annoyance, you storm over to the front door. "Soap, I swear, I'm going to kill you if you keep it up!" You shout angrily, pushing the door open, but not seeing any sign on the Scot.

You venture outside a little more, but you don't see him anywhere. What if he wasn't the one messing with you? What if it was the animal from earlier? An uneasy feeling settles over you.

"Soap?" You call out softly, but you get no reply. You even try to peak around the cabin to see if he was hiding by the sides. When you don't spot him, you begin to feel more on edge. Groaning in frustration, telling yourself not to worry, you head back inside.

You pick up the egg carton and try to resume your cooking, though you're still tense and on edge. You'd just managed to pop the lid on the eggs open when Soap comes bolting out of the bedroom. He's making a big scene, growling and snarling, almost like he's pretending to be a bear.

The second he does, your heart is leaping into your throat and you scream. Adrenaline surges through you as you instinctively use the thing in your hand as a weapon. Soap is pretty much right behind you by then, and your muscles react faster than your mind can process. You smash the small paper carton into his chest with all your might, the impact causing most of eggs to burst out of their shells, yolks splattering across his shirt and dripping onto the floor.

Soap stumbles back a step, a mixture of surprise, shock, and anger prominent on his features as he looks down at his shirt. As he does, the box falls to the ground. Any eggs that hadn't broken certainly did as it hit the hard wooden floor.

Your body is buzzing, and your heart is hammering in your chest as you look down at the carton, equally shocked. All of your eggs are gone. Meanwhile, Soap is standing there mirroring your expression. His jaw is dropped, and his clean shirt is splattered with a generous dose of raw eggs. You both stand in stunned silence, until all hell breaks loose.

"Jesus, States!" Soap exclaims, wiping the yolky mess off his chest and onto the floor. "Why the fuck would you do that?! Why did you toss the whole damn carton at me!? That's literally the best fucking thing we have to eat!"

You're in shock. He's really going to get mad at you?

"You're joking right now?" You inquire, raising your eyebrows at him. "Tell me you are joking! You're gonna get mad at me when you're the one who fucking just scared the shit out of me!?"

"I didn't think you'd freak the fuck out and throw all our fucking eggs at me!"

"I didn't think you'd be acting like a child and trying to pull a pathetic prank on me! You scared me for no fucking reason!"

"Oh for the love of God, woman," he growls. "Get a sense of humor! It'd do you some good. Now we have no eggs and my shirt is fucking ruined! I only brought four pairs! I don't have a washing machine or an endless supply of shirts at my disposal!"

"You'd still have a clean shirt if you weren't such a jerk!" You shout back, hands clenching into fists at your sides.

"It was a bloody joke! What about you? Thought you were supposed to be a field specialist. Couldn't hear me coming? Didn't know something was up? Are you that fucking bad at your job?" Soap was pissed at this point to be taking jabs at your line of work.

You laugh, the sound lacking any amusement. All that was there was pure rage and spite. "The hell did you say? I'm not good at my job?" You ask lowly. "I reacted like anyone would when they're scared out of their mind! Forgive me for assuming I wouldn't have to be on guard around someone who is on the same team as me!"

"Ah, don't start with that shite again." He grumbles, rolling his eyes and beginning to walk away.

"Don't you dare fucking walk away from me, MacTavish! I'm not done with you!" You follow after him, moving to block his path. He's trying to head into the bedroom.

Soap glares down at you as you stand in his way. His chest was rising and falling in heavy breaths. "I'd fucking like to get a clean shirt," he growls, gesturing to his chest, still smeared with the remnants of the eggs. "So move."

He doesn't give you a chance to move on your own. He pushes you back into the bedroom and off to the right side of the room where your cot is, simmering in anger.

God, he was so livid. He just wanted to get his shirt and get out of this cabin before he did something he'd regret. Tension had been building rapidly between you since day one. Ghost's words had been haunting him for the last three days, and it was all he'd been able to think about.

You two just need to fuck and get it out of your system.

"Don't push me!" You growl, shoving Soap's hands off you even as he's retracing them.

"Then get the fuck away from me! Leave!" Soap shouts, ripping his shirt off over his head and throwing it to the ground.

"Really? You're telling me to leave when you're the one who started this?!"

"Yeah, I am! So fuck off!" He seethes, storming over to your shared dresser and pulling out a clean shirt for himself.

He doesn't wait to put the shirt on, instead just making a break for the door. You're far too upset to just let him leave though. Moving fast, you block the doorway again, a hand on each side of the frame, trapping Soap inside. Though he could easily plow right through you if he wanted, he just glares down at you.

"Get out of the way, States."

"You know, maybe if you were a better teammate we wouldn't be in this mess! It's your fault we're in this damn cabin anyway!" You point a finger at him, poking him in the chest and adding to his annoyance.

The second you poke him, he snaps. He was so fucking done with this. His patience was hanging by a thin thread, and you just cut it with a knife. In a flash, he grabs your wrist, twisting it so that your finger is pulled away from his chest. His grip was firm, but not painful as he forces you to walk backwards into the kitchen. He glares at you, his blue eyes icy and filled with anger.

"You know what, States?!" He barks, his voice deep and filled with venom. "You think you're so bloody perfect, don't you? Well, let me tell you something, you're not! You mess up all the fucking time! Just like how you messed up in Naryn!"

He moves closer, his face inches from yours. You could feel his hot breath against your skin, see the fury burning in his eyes. Your chest as heaving as you stare up at him.

"Why do hate me so damn much! Tell me, Soap. What did I ever do, that from day one, I became the one person you're ever an asshole to?!" You shout back at him, making him groan and roll his eyes.

"I'm not doing this right now." He growls, releasing your wrist and turning to retreat, but you want answers. You follow right after him and block his exit yet again, making his fists clench as his sides.

"No! You're going to answer me!"

"States."

"Why do you hate me?!"

"Move."

"Or what?" You challenge, not aware how close Soap is to snapping. Your eyes are locked on each other, each refusing to look away.

You're both breathing heavily, and the tension in the cabin is building to a very unstable level the longer you hold eye contact. The very thin string that's been keeping you apart is slowly breaking, snapping slowly until there's just the most fragile thread holding everything together.

Then Soap looks down at your lips, his eyes the knife that makes it all come shattering apart. Before he could think twice, before he can rationalize it, he grabs your face, leans down, and captures your lips with his in a rough, angry kiss. It was spontaneous, impulsive, and probably a terrible idea. But in that moment, he didn't give a damn.

You stand there in shock.

He's kissing you.... Soap MacTavish was kissing you....

It wasn't a gentle kiss. It was rough. All teeth and tongue and force.

It was confusing. It made your head spin, making you feel instantly dizzy. But you didn't want to pull away.

You hesitate only for a moment before grabbing his head in both of your hands and pulling his lips harder against yours. Your body presses right up against his as you meet each of his kisses with a fury of your own.

Soap is taken aback by your response. He fully expected you to pull back, slap him, yell at him. But instead, your hands are tangling in his short hair, pulling him in closer.

Well, fuck.

He deepens the kiss, his hands slipping down to circle your waist, pulling you flush against him, your arms circling his neck, keeping his lips on yours. You could feel the heat radiating off him, your chest pressed against his, your nails digging into his scalp. It was intoxicating, maddening, and thrilling.

Your mind was a whirlwind of confusion, anger, and desire. You bite down on his lip and barely register the small, primal sound of satisfaction that rumbles in Soap's throat as you do. His hands move from pressing you against him to gripping your hips. With a grunt, Soap is pushing you back against the closest wall he can find. Your lips pop apart for just a second before he's smashing his back against yours.

He pins you against the wall with his body while your hands eagerly run down his chest and torso. Every time he moves, his muscle flex under his skin. You can’t take your hands off him.

His hands can’t seem to help exploring either. They restlessly roam every inch of you he can touch. Eventually, his hands find the hem of your shirt, and he wastes no time in getting the chance to feel the soft skin of your torso.

The thin fabric of your shirt offers little resistance as he slips his hands underneath it. You feel his roughened fingertips trace up your sides, moving until he reaches your breasts. He cups both of your breasts through your bra, giving them a firm squeeze before gently kneading them. You gasp against his lips, a soft, needy whine leaving you.

Oh hell...

Soap is in deep now. He doesn't care about the consequences, about what this might mean for you both. At this moment, all he wants is you.

"States," he murmurs against your lips, his voice hoarse with desire. It sends a shiver down your spine, and you open your eyes as your lips part a little.

He's still so close to you, his breath coming out in hot huffs against your lips and mixing with your own. His eyes are locked onto yours, his gaze darkened and pupils blown. Like he’s a starved man staring down an animal he wants to devour. It’s almost too intense. Your eyes leave his, flicking down to his lips for a second. They’re red and glossy from your intense make out. You’re sure yours look the same to him.

You don’t get to admire his swollen lips for long. The moment you break eye contact, he strikes. His lips are back on yours, a deep groan leaving him when you instantly return his kiss.

His hands have left your breasts, quickly trailing down your body to grope your plump round ass. He gives both cheeks a firm squeeze, pulling you away from the wall just a bit. One hand moves up to the curve of your spine, the other staying on your butt cheek. He then grinds his hips against you, pulling you tight against him as he does.

You moan at the friction, able to feel him through his pants. He's getting hard right against your thigh as he shamelessly squishes you into his growing erection. His hips are gently humping into you, and you want to move too, but he’s holding you far too tightly.

You didn't think you'd ever be in this position. Kissing, let alone dry humping, on Soap MacTavish. Yet here you are, locking lips with him in some kind of sick, hate filled dance.

Not able to move much, you move a hand to the back of Soap’s neck and gently, but firmly, dragging your nails from the base of his skull to the side of his neck. It pulls a shuddery moan from him and makes his hips lose their rhythm.

Soap suddenly pulls away a little, slamming you back against the wall once more. You grunt as he does, pain radiating up your back. With how much he was slamming you around, you were gonna be so bruised tomorrow.

"You fucker." You growl, hands moving to grab his hips as he presses them back into you. He starts to grind once more, a deep chuckle emitting from him.

"You deserved that one." He says, voice almost shaky with lust.

"The hell did I do?" You ask breathily as he leans back in, kissing at the side of your throat. He trails the wet sloppy kisses right up to your ear, his breath hot and voice husky as he offers up an answer.

"You've been driving me fucking mad for six months." He growls lowly, his teeth nipping at your earlobe.

You moan softly, his words making the throbbing between your legs so much worse. You press them together, but it doesn’t little to stop the ache.

Soap starts to trail his kisses urgently back down your knee, teeth dragging and lips making delicate popping sounds as he sucks a few marks here and there. You moan quietly into his ear, placing a hand on the back of his head as your eyes flutter shut.

Suddenly, he bites down, rather hard, making you gasp and wince. It hurt like hell, but also ignited some hidden pleasure you hadn’t known existed.

“Ahhh, fuck!” You moan, legs buckling, nails digging into Soap’s shoulder to keep yourself from falling.

Soap grabs your hips before you can fall, slotting one of his own thighs between yours. He begins to gently rock you against him, soothing that ache with each rub against his flexed muscle. It pulls a satisfied moan from your lips as he grins at you.

"Oh, there you go, lass." He mumbles, leaning in to kiss at the spot he’d bitten. "That feel better? You like that?"

"Ass." You sigh, gripping his arms as you shamelessly start grind on his thigh to get some relief.

He chuckles at your remark, his teeth nipping at your jawline. "Such a brat. You drive me fucking mad, States, you know that?" He growls, his voice low and lustful.

"Yeah, you don't exactly make me sane either." You growl right back at him, making him laugh deeply.

He removes his thigh completely then, making you whimper at the loss. Your legs instantly buckle again, hands holding onto Soap to keep yourself upright. His hands move to your hips almost instantly, steading you and pressing you back against the wall.

"I can't wait to fuck that sense back into you." His lips collide with yours once more in a bruising kiss. It's dizzying the way he kisses you. And when he bites your lip, making you hiss, and he grins about it. Oh you hated him. Cocky bastard.

His hands move from pinning your hips to the wall, to tracing alone the hemline of your pants. As he is kissing you, he starts to unbutton your pants and yank them down. They only make it to your mid thigh before getting stuck. He growls against your lips, muttering something about you, "always being so fucking difficult."

Your mind is too fuzzy to realize what Soap is doing until he's doing it. Your body jerks, and you gasp when you hear the sound of your pants ripping. Your eyes fly open, and you give him a rough shove to view the damage he's done. The seam right between your legs has been torn almost completely in half.

Your jaw drops as you stare down at your pants in shock. You don’t even realize that his arms are snaking around behind you to finish the job. When he gives it another forcible rip, you snap.

"Oh my God! Soap! Are you serious right now?!" You shout at him, the brain fog of sex clearing up quickly. You can't believe he's just destroyed your pants.

"You ruin my shirt, I ruin your pants. Maybe you can use these as rags when you clean up those eggs."

"Like hell I'm not! You're out of your mind if you think I'm going to be the one cleaning that up. They wouldn't be there in the first place if you hadn't scared me!"

"Yeah, but you're still the one who threw them."

"I can't help it if my fucking reflexes are triggered! If I clean it up, I'm cleaning it with your clothes, you bast- ahh~" You try to threaten him, but your words are cut short when his fingers find your clit. His thumb has slipped under your panties and is rubbing quick little circled right onto the sensitive thing.

Soap laughs as your words trail off, slowly backing you against the wall as you turn to putty under his touch.

"Oh, steaming Jesus... you're already fucking soaked for me." He growls out, eyes training on where his thumb is moving in your underwear before turning his attention back to you. "You that desperate to get your hands on my clothes, sweetheart?"

You huff at his accusation. "That's not what I said, and you know it." You say through clenched teeth, mind melting. "Your clothes smell like shit anyway. Little egg wouldn't hurt."

His hand shifts slightly then, and his middle finger prodding around just slightly before finding your slick entrance. It takes nothing for his finger to push into your velvety walls. He doesn't even give you a second to adjust to the feeling of his finger inside you. He's thrusting it in and out of you, using his palm to keep a steady pressure on your clit. 

"N... nah..." you try to talk but couldn't get the words out. The pleasure is so sudden, and when Soap hits that one spot, you don't even want to try to argue with him anymore.

"This all it take to get you to shut up?" Soap growls, his free hand gripping your hips tightly to keep you from moving. "Huh, States? Just needed someone to finger you real good? To fuck some manners into you?"

"Fuck. You..."

Your nails are digging into his forearms as his hand picks up speed, palm now slapping against your clit with each thrust of his fingers. You can feel the pleasure inside you, building and building. Like a faucet dripping into a bucket where the water is beading up at the rim, so close to breaking and pouring over the edge.

And you might have let yourself come if it weren't Soap who was the one trying to make you go over the edge. You don't want to give him the satisfaction of coming so soon, so easily on his just his fingers. Squeezing your eyes shut, you let out a long moan, trying desperately to hold on.

"Fuck, States," Soap growls, able to see just how close you are to giving in. He slows down enough to allow his thumb to find your clit once more, rubbing it in slow, hard circles to change up the pace. He wants to hear you moan, to see you lose control.

"Still think you won't clean it up?" He asked, smirking as your glare turns into your rolling your eyes back as he presses his finger right into the place he knew had been making you squeeze down on his finger. Your hips instantly buck against his hand when he does, telling him he had the right spot.

Shifting slightly so his hip is pinning your leg, he brings his now free hand to your throat, which makes you tense a bit. Your breath hitches, expecting him to squeeze and close your airway, but he's holding it gently, not squeezing. Leaning in, he starts to kiss at your lips again, slower this time, but still just as rough and mean.

His finger has stilled now, buried as deep as he can go. He starts to slowly stroke at the spongy tissue, curling his finger against the same spot over and over. He swallows every moan that leaves your lips, pressing himself harder against you when you fight for control by bucking your hips.

"If you promise to be a good girl," he speaks against your lips between harsh slow kisses. "And clean up the mess you made, then I'll let you come." He gives you a few more kisses, not letting you answer immediately. "You gonna be a good girl for me, States? You gonna shut the fuck up, listen, and do what I tell you to?"

He's looking right into your eyes, his hand still on your neck to keep your gaze on him. You were so tired of Soap having all the control. Tired of not being able to get a word in because he had his hands all over you. You growl at him, which just makes him grin.

In an attempt to level the playing field, you reach down to the now very prominent tent in his pants and grip him hard. Needless to say, you're very happy you'd been making eye contact with him when you do. It wipes the grin right off his face.

"Ahh, fuck!" Soap lips part as he lets out a strangled groan, eyes rolling back ever so slightly. His hips buck hard against your hand as you grip him, and he curses.

He feels a lot bigger than what you'd seen when you accidentally walked in on him naked. Then again, he also hadn't been fully erect then. His cock felt hot, heavy, and throbbing now.

His hand leaves your neck to grab at your wrist, gripping it, but not moving it, as you start to rub your palm against his bulge. He watches the action for a little bit, panting heavily, before turning his focus back on you. His hand starts to move again, thrusting into you in time with your rubbing.

Not one to let Soap of all people win, you start to unbutton his pants and reach down into his underwear to pull his rock hard cock free. Soap hisses as you do, and you can tell why the second he springs free. The tip of his cock is an angry red color. It shimmers slightly from the puddle of precum it's been sitting in while in his underwear, and another bead of it was already forming on the slit, getting ready to form into a little droplet and drip down.

Wasting no time, you get to work, stoking up and down his length, working the precum down his entire shaft. Once he's more slick, you start pumping him furiously, stopping every now and then to let your thumb focus on rubbing the sensitive skin under his tip.

And Soap is fucking loving it. He groans heavily, leaning forward and resting his forehead against your shoulder. "Oh fucking hell, lass. That's it..." He breathes, his hand now slamming back into your pussy in quick thrusts.

"I'm not cleaning up shit." You seethe, voice just above a whisper. Your disobedience earns yourself a stinging bit to the junction where your neck meets your shoulder. Soap's teeth dig into the soft flesh, and you moan out, a mix of pleasure and pain, right into Soap's ear.

The moans sets something off in Soap. He has to have you. Right here, right now. Nothing else mattered. He needed to feel you clamping down on him. He wanted to rid himself of all the tension from the past three days, clear his mind from the anger, burn it off by fucking you. He wants to make you feel good, feel pain, make you scream his name. And he will.

"You don't want to play nice?" He asks, pulling his hand free from your underwear and yanking your hand away from his cock. "Don't want to take responsibility still? Well that's fucking fine, sweetheart. Gonna fuck you so stupid you won't be able to form a single thought let along clean."

You have a retort, but you yelp before you can get it out. You're not sure how he does it, but in a quick movement, Soap has grabbed your legs, wrapped them around his hips, and has you up off the floor. His cock is now resting right in the crease of your ass, your back is still pinned against the wall, and your arms quickly circle his neck for support. The last thing he does is adjust his grip on you, both hands moving to support your ass.

"Doubtful." You egg him on, making him pause to look at you. "You couldn't even make me come on your fingers. What makes you think your cock will be any better?"

Soap glares at you, a snarl forming on his face. "I could've made you come on my fingers, but I'd rather feel you come around my cock."

You rolls your eyes at him. "Bet you'll come before I do."

The glare on his face morphed into a grin that spread slowly onto his face. His member twitches against your ass, and you almost wish you hadn't said what you just said. It was a challenge now, and Soap loved proving you wrong.

"Really?" He snarled, a dangerous glint in his eyes. He shifts you around in his arms, cock dragging along your ass as he pulls his hips back. His tip leaves a cool wet trail. "Let's see if you still think that when you're coming around my cock." You feel the push of his velvety, hot tip as it drags through your folds, lining himself up. "You better brace yourself." He warns, his tone dark and dangerous.

"You better not-”

He pushes into you then. A single, quick thrust of his hips, and his thick length is splitting you in half, filling you completely. You throw your head back against the wall, your breath getting caught in your lungs. Even as slick as you are, it's by no means painless. The sudden intrusion makes your entire body tense as it tries to accommodate him.

"Breathe, States." He instructs, thumbs rubbing circles onto your thighs. At least has the decency to pause for a moment and slowly work his cock the rest of the way into you instead of just ramming you again. By simply lifting your legs a little further up on his hips, you finish sliding down onto him.

His hips are flush with yours, your clit just kissing his hair covered pelvis. You sigh and gasp when your clit meets up with him, the bud still very sensitive. Soap takes a moment to rock you against him, giving your clit a little more stimulation.

"There bonnie. That's better isn't it?" He moans, the gentle rocking feeling good for him too. "Ohh fuck.." He sighs, pressing his forehead to the side of your neck. "You’re so tight."

"That fucking hurt, you fucking ass." You curse him when your breathing finally evens out a bit. That's Soap cue you're ready for more.

"Oh, you're fine. It'll feel good." He readjusts his grip, moving his hands to your thighs, preparing for the harsh fuck he's about to give you.

He wastes no time, dragging his hips back, only leaving his tip inside you, before snapping up into you, starting a brutal pace. You groan loudly, throwing your head back as he slams into you. Each thrust creates a smacking sound as his hips collide with yours. You grip his shoulders tightly, nails digging into his shoulders and clenching your teeth as you wait for the drag of his cock to feel good.

Soap is already enjoying himself, moaning and panting against your neck. "I'm going to ruin you, States.." He breathes against your skin, his voice a low growl. "Feels so fucking good..."

Then it's like a switch has been flipped. The drag of his cock goes from a dull ache to feeling incredible. He's hitting something in you that's taking your breath away in the best possible way. Once the pleasure starts, there is no more holding back.

A moan tore through your vocal cords, head falling back against the wood behind you. Your walls burn as they stretch and flutter, seeming to form perfectly around his cock. The second Soap has you moaning, he goes harder. His hips piston up into you, making your back slam against the wall. It's probably going to make you so sore later, but fuck you don’t care right now.

Soap is starting to sweat already from his efforts. It's also hot in the cabin. Normally he props the doors open during the day for air flow, but he's not about to stop to do that now. He doesn't want to stop. He doesn't want to look away from you. His eyes stay locked on your face the whole time. Your eyes are shut, your mouth hanging out as moan after moan pour from your lips.

He was out of his mind. Fuck Ghost for always being right. Fuck him for putting this idea in his head.

"Ahhh.. Soap!" You moaning his name is almost his undoing. His hips stutter, and he has to focus on not finishing right then and there. His needs to get you off. Now.

Moving his fingers back your clit, he starts to frantically rub your little nub, making you cry out. Fire is coursing through you, everything is wound too tight.

"Come on, States,” he pants, “That's it. I know you're close, lass. I can feel you fucking trying to milk me. Just let go for me. I know you want to." He coaxes, his voice a low growl.

"Fuck!" You curse, his dirty talk really starting to drive you towards the edge. Your legs are shaking as they lock around him, your clit is burning as he continues to rub it. Harsh slaps filled the cabin as Soap's hips continue to met yours, squishing sounds echoing as his cock penetrates you over and over and over again.

"Come for me lass." Soap commands, his voice firm and leaving no room for argument. “Come for me right now.”

"I... fucking.. hate you. So damn much." You growl, tears gathering in your eyes from the intense orgasm about your hit. And then you come, relief flooding your veins. All the tension eases up, all your stress is gone. Melting away as each pump of Soap's cock drags out the waves of pleasure.

"Yeah, scream it louder!” Soap pants, pushing harder, slamming you down on him. “There you fucking go. That's it! That's fucking.. Fuck, States!"

Soap feels your walls act like a vice around his member. One squeeze from you is all it takes to drag him towards his own finish. He needed to feel his own release, to feel himself come undone inside you.

As you start to come off your high, Soap is desperately chasing his own, ignoring how your body is starting to relax. He thrusts harder, faster, fingers digging into your flesh as he holds you up.

All you can do is grab his shoulders and hold on for dear life as he buries his face into your shoulder, his stubble ticking you. Your walls are still fluttering in aftershocks, moans and heavy breaths still pouring your lips as Soap fucks you.

Soap is close, you can tell. His breath hitches, his body tensing as he nears his own climax. His thrusts became more erratic, more desperate. He could feel it building, the pleasure coiling in his stomach, ready to explode. With one last hard thrust, he comes, shooting his load deep inside you.

He groans heavily into your ear, his cock twitching as the hot ropes of his come paint your insides. He’s finished after three more thrusts, his body shuddering as he pushes into overstimulation. He keeps his forehead against your shoulder, panting heavily while he recovers. He can still feel your walls fluttering around him, could still feel the aftershocks of your orgasm.

You cling to him, his hold on you just as tight as the waves of pleasure start to fade for you both. Now that your mind is no longer foggy with lust, something heavy settles in your gut.

What the hell you've just done…

"Fuck," Soap curses, his voice raspy and hoarse.

You feel him shift his hips, allowing his softening member to slip out of you, making you wince. He all but drops your legs, letting them fall from around his waist. You wobble as you try to find your footing, and he pushes you to lean against the wall before taking a step back himself.

You cling to the wall as your shared release begins to drip out of you, running down your thighs and splattering onto the floor. You're panting, as is Soap, as you both try to rationalize what's just happened. Dread and regret settle in the pit of your stomach.

Soap tucks himself back into his pants and runs a hand over his face, looking anywhere but at you. You feel so fragile in this moment as you watch him, waiting for his next move.

"Soap?" You whisper, desperate for him to say something. To talk about what just happened, to tell you what this means. But as Soap looks at you, his eyes harden.

"Go clean yourself up. And all that too while you're at it." He points to the eggs and to the floor under you, his voice cold and distance. He turns to leave, shoving the cabin door open and going God knows where.

Your voice catches in your throat, hurt by his words. You want to stop him, run after him, but you can't. You're in shock, your legs are weak, and you're starting to realize just how much you fucked up.

One second you're in an intense argument with Soap, the next you're fucking each other raw. And now you’re all alone, wondering what hell you just did.

***

Soap needed air. Now. He just made the biggest mistake of his life, and you're looking at him with the most scared and confused eyes. Wondering so many things, things he doesn't have answers for.

"Go clean yourself up. And all that too while you're at it." He tells you. He knows there's no reason to treat you this way. Especially since he's the one who initiated sex with you, but he's so mad at himself right now. Mad for letting himself give in. And even worse, now you look hurt.

He needs air. 

Soap rushes outside, shoving the door firmly like it purposely got in his way. He stands on the porch, running his hands over his face. Trying to calm down. He just needs to breathe for a minute.

Ghost was right about one thing. The orgasm you just pulled from him did release all his tension. Like it was as simple as cutting a single thread. The thing he neglected to tell him was that after all that tension and stress was released, a different kind of tense would creep in.

Actually Soap supposed he was 100% right. Ghost never did say a thing about what it would be like after.

Fuck Ghost…

Soap wants to run. To leave and never come back. But as much as he can't stand you, Soap can't bring himself to leave. Not after your first night together, not after seeing how scared you got. No, as much as he wants to, you are still his squadmate. No man left behind. He can't leave anyone else behind...

However, he is equally aware that he needs time to himself to process everything. Work through some stuff in his head before you talks to you. He should at least help you clean up though. What kind of a guy would he be if he just fucked a girl and left her to clean up the mess. He was already planning on leaving for a few hours to clear his head, he might as well make sure you're somewhat ok before he goes. So you won’t be so stressed.

Sighing, hoping this will just blow over, that somehow you'll never to talk about it, he turns to go back into the cabin.

***

After about a minute of clinging onto the wall, you find enough strength to move. The first thing you do is wiggle out of your destroyed pants and use them to wipe between your legs. Your underwear was still on, but you want to change into a fresh pair. A lot of your arousal had stained them and some of Soap's come had gotten on them when he pulled out.

Once you're clothed again, you make your way back into the kitchen and look down at the white and clear stains on the floor. You want to clean up that stain before anything else. Wipe away the evidence of your coupling. However, you know it's not going to do much. The soreness between your legs is a constant reminder of what happened.

You kneel down, and right as you're about to grab your pants and use them to mop up the mixture of your and Soap's release, the door opens again. You're frozen as Soap walks through, his eyes on you at first. An awkward tension fills the space, and you look away from him, picking at one of the loose strings on your destroyed pants.

Soap finally moves, stepping past you to get to the bedroom and coming out a second later with his egg covered shirt. He kneels down in front of you and uses the sleeve of his shirt to start wiping up the cum stain. Once it's mostly gone, aside from the dampness causing the wood to be two different shades, he moves on to pick the eggs box up and takes it outside.

You get up and start to clean up the eggs while he's gone, knowing you're going to have to talk about what happened sooner or later. You couldn't just fuck each other and act like nothing happened. Especially with the history you and Soap had.

When Soap comes back, you find yourself tensing up once more, the awkward air returning. He pauses in the doorway, but you can't bring yourself to look up him. Eventually, he joins you on the floor, helping you mop up the eggs.

Once the area is clean, or mostly clean (the eggs left a residue), you finally look up at Soap. You open your mouth, wanting to talk to him about everything, but he speaks first.

"I'm gonna head out for a bit. Few hours." He says, moving to stand up.

You want to run after him, tell him to stay so you can talk things out, but a part of you is too ashamed to go after him. You felt like you'd already lost your dignity and running after him would just make you feel even more pathetic.

“Ok…”

You let him leave, the creak of the front door sealing the decision. The moment the door closes, a wave of anguish crashes over you. Now that he's gone, you can finally let the tears fall. The confusion, the anger at yourself, the regret, the shame—all of it eats at you until you're exhausted. You bury your face in your hands, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

Soap is gone for hours again. It's getting dark, but you can't bring yourself to care as much as you did the first time. Having some time away from him to cry and work out the emotions was actually kind of nice. But the loneliness creeps in, wrapping around you like a cold, suffocating blanket. You curl up on your cot, hugging your knees to your chest, trying to find some semblance of comfort.

By the time Soap does come back, you're already in your cot, eyes shut but not sleeping. You hear the front door open and close, hear his footsteps come to the bedroom door and wait outside, hear the door slowly push open, and you can image him peeking inside.

"States?" He asks in a really soft voice. You don't answer him.

He comes into the room, and you feel like he's looking at your sleeping form, but you don't dare open your eyes to check. You hear him sigh, and then he starts to quietly move about the room, getting himself ready for bed.

When he finally crawls into his cot, the silence settles heavily over the room. And once it's silent again, you have to bite your lip to keep from crying.

[ikkyfics]

Can you please, please, do a second part to "restoration"?? I kind of hated Vronsky and Anna in that fic but I want to see how reader is once the baby is born

Restoration Spin-off

A/N: It's completely understandable that I hated them - seriously, I completely hated them while writing each interaction. But I couldn't make it a tragic ending :( I'm sorry. I hope you can enjoy this little spin-off

Masterlist

The last months of your pregnancy felt like a rebirth for your relationship with Alexei. After so many storms, you both found a calmness where he seemed determined to make up for every wound he had caused. Every gesture of his carried meticulous care, as if he were trying to prove, not with words but with actions, that he had learned the value of what you had built together.

Sometimes, you caught him looking at you with a gleam in his eyes that went beyond admiration. He seemed mesmerized, almost vulnerable, as if he couldn’t believe he deserved to be by your side after everything. In those moments, he would whisper compliments that warmed your heart. “You’re so beautiful like this, you know? Not just beautiful… Magnificent.” It was impossible not to feel the warmth in every word.

Every night before bed, he performed a ritual that had become sacred: sitting beside you, he would pick up a book and read with a deep, gentle voice, his fingers tenderly stroking your belly. “Listen, my child,” he would say, pausing the reading to murmur words directly to the baby. “Your mother is the most incredible woman I’ve ever known. I can’t wait to show you the world, but I promise I will always be here to protect both of you.” You didn’t know if it was the hormones or the intensity of his promises, but hot tears often streamed down your face in those moments.

During the day, Alexei wouldn’t let a single detail escape his attention. When your feet swelled, he would massage them without a word of complaint, ignoring any attempt on your part to protest. “Let me take care of you. Please,” he would insist, his voice soft yet firm. And when the weight of emotions threatened to pull you under, he always seemed to know exactly what to say to lift you back up.

The desire between you also rekindled with a force that was both tender and overwhelming. Alexei seemed even more captivated by you during pregnancy, often repeating how beautiful your body was and how it fascinated him. He never let you forget that you were his, and every touch was a reminder of the passion that continued to burn between you.

Finally, the day arrived.

The tranquility of that morning was broken by an unexpected moment. You felt a sudden shift, followed by a wet sensation, and when you realized what had happened, a chill ran down your spine. Your water had broken.

Alexei was nearby, reading a letter by the window. At the sound of your startled gasp, he lifted his eyes, his elegant posture instantly giving way to absolute alertness. “What is it, my love?” he asked, striding toward you with long, purposeful steps, his gaze scanning your face for signs of pain.

“It’s... time,” you managed to say, clutching your belly as a wave of pain began to intensify.

For a brief moment, he stood still, absorbing the news, before a faint smile curved his lips—a smile meant to reassure both you and himself. “Very well. I’ll take care of everything. Stay calm. I’m here.”

Alexei left the room with the efficiency of a general preparing for battle. He summoned the doctor and the maids with a few decisive words, his tone unmistakably firm. “Bring everything necessary. Quickly.” Then, he returned to your side, kneeling to take your hand.

“Are you in pain?” he asked, his voice calm, though his eyes betrayed his worry.

“Yes, but it’s bearable,” you replied, squeezing his hand.

“My brave one,” he said softly, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “Everything will be fine. You are extraordinary.”

When the doctor arrived, followed by maids carrying clean towels and basins of hot water, Alexei rose to his feet. He hesitated, his instinct clearly urging him to stay by your side, but he knew what tradition required. Leaning down, he placed one last kiss on your forehead.

“I’ll be right outside,” he promised, his eyes locking with yours before leaving the room.

Outside, Alexei remained impeccably composed, even as the atmosphere grew tense. The maids whispered about the count, who, instead of showing nerves, maintained a vigilant posture, overseeing every detail to ensure everything was perfect.

However, the cries of pain that began to echo through the walls chipped away at his calm exterior. He stood still for a moment, but when he heard his name escape your lips amidst the groans, all hesitation vanished.

Alexei pushed the door open firmly, the sound of the wood reverberating through the room. “Count Vronsky!” the doctor exclaimed, startled.

“What is happening?” Alexei demanded, his voice low but laden with authority.

“All is proceeding normally, sir. Women cry out during childbirth; it’s natural,” the doctor replied, attempting to maintain a respectful tone.

Alexei fixed him with a piercing stare. “Normal or not, she is calling for me. We will not discuss this further.” And with that, he strode to your side, ignoring any objections.

You felt his presence before you saw him, and when his hand enveloped yours again, relief washed over you. “Alexei…”

“I’m here, my love,” he said, his voice now low and soothing. Taking the handkerchief from his pocket, he gently dabbed your forehead, his movements careful and tender. “You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you.”

The pain came in waves, each contraction testing your strength. With every one, Alexei murmured words of encouragement. “Breathe, devushka moya. I’m here. Just look at me. We’re doing this together.”

The doctor continued his work, occasionally exchanging glances with the count, who clearly had no intention of leaving.

The pain felt impossible to bear, each contraction a reminder of the monumental effort your body was making. Your breathing was labored, every inhale and exhale a struggle. Alexei’s hands were your anchor; he held them firmly but without hurting, as if he knew exactly the strength you needed.

“I’m here,” he whispered, his deep voice filling the room. “You’re the strongest woman I know. It’s almost over.”

You tried to respond, but another wave of pain ripped through your body, forcing a loud cry from your lips. Tears welled in your eyes, the exhaustion weighing on you like a tide you could no longer resist.

“I can’t,” you murmured, your voice trembling with fatigue.

Alexei leaned in closer, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around you. He squeezed your hand and pressed his lips to your forehead, the touch warm and reassuring. “Yes, you can. You’ve come so far already. Look at me,” he urged, his voice low, almost commanding, yet filled with tenderness. You obeyed, meeting his gaze. His eyes held something profound—a mix of pride and determination that seemed to transfer a part of his strength to you.

“Breathe, devushka moya. Just a little more. I know it hurts, but we’re almost there,” he said, and there was something in his tone that made you believe him, even when it felt impossible.

Another cry escaped, but this time, you gripped his hands more tightly, forcing yourself to keep your eyes locked on his, letting his voice guide you. “That’s it. Good girl,” he murmured, a hint of emotion breaking through as his fingers brushed against your face. “Every second that passes, we’re closer to meeting him.”

His words felt like music, cutting through the chaos and pain with a tenderness that seemed almost miraculous in the moment.

You felt something different then—a movement that signaled the end was truly near. “One more time, my love,” Alexei encouraged, and you noticed his voice was a bit hoarse. He was as invested as you were, almost feeling every moment alongside you.

With a final effort, a wave of relief washed over your body. The sharp cry of a baby filled the air, and tears streamed freely down your face. “It’s a boy,” the doctor announced, carefully wrapping the tiny infant in a clean cloth.

You barely had the strength to move, but your eyes followed the baby as he was placed in Alexei’s arms. He looked down at his son with an expression you had never seen before—a mix of awe, love, and reverence that seemed to light up the entire room.

"Our son," Alexei whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he cradled the tiny bundle wrapped in a soft cloth. He brought him over carefully, every movement deliberate, as if the entire world depended on it.

When your eyes settled on the baby, you felt something so immense it seemed to overflow from your chest. He was perfect—so small and delicate, with rosy skin and a nose so much like Alexei's that you couldn't help but notice it immediately. His lips, slightly curved, seemed to carry the same naturally intense expression as his father.

The baby nestled against your chest when Alexei placed him in your arms. You felt the warmth of his tiny body, the light weight that somehow seemed to hold the entire universe. His little fingers, still slightly clenched, brushed against your skin, and his soft cries became the most precious sound you had ever heard.

Tears pricked your eyes. "He's... so small," you murmured, your voice faint but filled with an overwhelming love that made your heart ache.

Alexei knelt beside the bed, watching the two of you with an intensity that bordered on reverence. "Small, yes," he murmured, his gaze fixed on the baby. "But strong. Like his mother."

You let out a soft laugh, even as tears streaked down your cheeks. "He's your spitting image, Alexei. Absolutely."

He smiled, that rare smile you knew he reserved for genuine moments. "Maybe," he admitted, leaning in to kiss your forehead gently. "But he has your strength. And your heart... I see it in him already."

The baby let out a soft sound, almost a grumble, and you laughed again, feeling a tender warmth bloom inside you. He seemed so content, so safe, as if the world was exactly as it should be while he rested against your chest.

Alexei reached out, hesitating, as though he needed permission to touch his son again. When you nodded, he let his fingers gently glide over the baby’s head, covered in fine hair. "He’s more than I ever thought I could deserve," Alexei whispered, his voice nearly breaking.

You lifted your eyes to him, seeing the mix of awe and vulnerability that rarely surfaced in his expression. "We deserve this," you replied, pressing your hand over his, which still caressed the baby.

He studied you for a long moment before leaning in closer. "And you... how are you?" Concern threaded through his voice like steel. "Tell me the truth, my love. Does it hurt? Do you need anything?"

You took a deep breath, still feeling the exhaustion in every fiber of your body. "Tired," you admitted, sincerity escaping unfiltered. "But happy. Unbelievably happy."

Alexei nodded, as if committing every word to memory. He leaned in further, his fingers brushing your face and sweeping away the strands of hair clinging to your forehead. "Promise me, if you feel anything—any discomfort—you’ll tell me. No matter what it is. I want to care for you the way you’ve cared for me so many times."

Your heart swelled even more. "I promise," you said softly.

He moved to sit beside you, his arms wrapping around you and the baby in a firm yet gentle embrace. "You were extraordinary," Alexei murmured, his voice carrying a note of reverence. "I saw the strength within you, felt every moment. I’ll never forget it."

The baby made another soft sound, his cries shifting into a satisfied little grumble as he snuggled closer to your chest. You and Alexei exchanged a look, and in that moment, nothing else seemed to exist but the three of you.

"He’s perfect," you whispered, and Alexei nodded slowly.

"Perfect," he echoed, his voice low, almost like a prayer. "And this is just the beginning." He whispered more gentle words as his fingers played with the sweaty hair on her forehead. “I always knew you were strong. But today… today you surpassed everything I could have imagined. Thank you for giving me this gift. Thank you for being mine.”

Exhausted as you were, you felt whole, as if this moment was the culmination of everything you had endured. Alexei stayed there, holding you close, whispering sweet words of love and promises as your first night as a family began, filled with tenderness and hope.

[flowerxbunnie]

can you pls pls write about shy reader she and chris are a recent couple and one day he founds out that she likes dirty talk and tries that with her

Dirty Secret

Chris x Fem reader

Warnings: SMUTTYYY smut, lots of dirty talk, degradation/praise

DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT OKAY WITH SMUT OR ARE A MINOR!

Tags: @lustfulslxt

Chris’s POV

I can’t wipe the dumb smile off my face as I peek at Y/n’s nightstand, multiple tubes of chapstick covering the surface along with notebooks, pens, scrunchies, and lots of half empty water bottles. Her personality shows in her room so clearly, methodic but carefree.

These past four months have made me nothing but happy. We’ve done a good job at keeping our relationship out of the public eye after agreeing she didn’t want to handle any kickback from my fans yet. I hate that I can’t show her off, but it’s for the best, at least at this point.

I roam around her room with no ultimate goal, just waiting for her to get back from her nail appointment and I got bored. I scan her makeup table, brushes and random products strewn about as evidence that she’d been here hours before. Her jackets and hats hang on a hook behind her door and I run my fingers across the different fabrics, moving closer to inhale the vanilla scent that floods my mind with images of her. Fairly lights twinkle above her bed, something I’ve definitely taken notice of during all our nights tangled in her sheets.

I move to her bookshelf and look at all the spines of her books, some neatly lined up and some thrown haphazardly into piles. There’s collectible figures of the things she likes, crystals, and random little trinkets littering the shelves. I can’t help but reach out and touch the book that’s lying on the shelf at my eye level, running my fingers along all the multicolored sticky notes she’s placed into her favorite pages.

I guess it was a little too close to the edge, because even my light touch caused it to topple over and fall open, landing face down on the carpet below. I breathe out a curse and lean down to pick it up and put it exactly how I found it. I don’t want Y/n to think I’ve been snooping, because I haven’t. I’m just admiring all the little things that make her room feel like home to her.

I close the book and bring it back up to the shelf, turning it around to glance at the cover. Priest by Sierra Simone. I know a lot about Y/n already, but I didn’t know she was into religion. Sounds like a biography from the summary on the back. Something about a priest breaking their vow of celibacy and needing to confess. My interest is growing, I didn’t think she would enjoy this kind of book, maybe I should take a peek?

I pick the first sticky note my fingers brush across, knowing Y/n highlighted it for a reason. An audible gasp falls out of my mouth as a skim across the words on the page.

“Stay the fuck still, or I’m going to come before I want to, and if that happens, then I will take you over my knee and spank your ass until you learn how to listen.”

“What the fuck?” I question out loud.

I flip through multiple pages, each sticky note highlighting incredibly filthy words. It’s a fucking sex book. My cheeks burn at the thought of her reading these while she’s alone in her room, wondering what she looks like as she’s turning the pages and writhing with anticipation. I grab onto a pink sticky note and pull on it, flipping it to the page and reading what she had highlighted.

“But I won’t lie. It makes me hard as fuck knowing that I was the first man to taste you.”

This sticky note has her own handwriting smeared across it. I squint to make out the words.

If Chris would have said that to me…

Ouch, I think?

I’m not a vanilla guy by any means, but I’m not the weird fuck from 50 Shades of Grey either. I think our sex life is great, it’s more than enough to keep me satisfied. We’ve made love in the car, fucked while she was bent over her dining room table, stolen kisses in restaurant bathrooms after we snuck away from our friends. It’s all been so exciting to me, and even better because it’s with her.

I continue flying through the pages, my eyes widening at every line she made a point to come back to. This dude talks so much while he’s fucking this chick.

“No, don’t touch yourself, sweetheart. We’re going to get there together.”

Remind Chris to be more vocal!

It all clicks in my bird brain. I’m a fucking idiot. She’s highlighted almost all dialogue. She wants me to talk more during sex. I’ll admit, I’m not the best at speaking my mind while she’s bouncing on me or sprawled out below me. But why hasn’t she told me yet? I hope she hasn’t been disappointed with how things have been going.

I put the book back and angle it as best as I can remember, moving to lay down on top of her comforter. I stretch my back out and throw my arms behind my head, thinking about what I’m going to do when she gets home.

Y/n’s POV

I take my keys out of the door and lock it behind me, smiling as I see Chris’s sneakers sitting on the shoe rack in my entryway. My nails took way longer than I expected and I’m just so excited to be able to waste the rest of my day away with him. I make my way down the hall after placing my shoes next to his and creep into my bedroom, sprinting and jumping to lay beside Chris who’s stretched across my bed.

“Hiiii baby, I missed youuu!” I singsong before pressing a kiss against his stubbly cheek.

“Mmm, missed you more.” he mumbles into my neck as he turns and molds his body into mine.

His arms encircle me and the smell of his cologne floods my senses, washing a wave of comfort over me. I could lay like this forever.

“Let’s see the nails,” he says as he breaks away from me, suddenly sitting up and grabbing my hands.

I sit up beside him and watch as his large hands hold my own, moving my fingers around and watching the duo chrome polish shift colors in the light. His smile spreads from ear to ear as he takes notice of the “C” I asked the nail tech to paint onto my ring finger.

“Aren’t they so cute??” I squeal, so ecstatic at the way they turned out.

“So cute,” he coos, bringing them to his lips to place a tender kiss on each finger. “I think they’d look even cuter wrapped around my cock.” He says in a low growl as he brings my hand down to his lap, shoving my palm onto the fabric of his sweatpants.

I feel his erection through the layers of clothing, rock hard and throbbing. I can’t help but gasp at his words, I’ve never heard him speak like this before. I watch as his pupils dilate, the black overtaking the blue of his iris as he flickers his eyes to my lips.

“Nothing to say, sweetheart?” He asks almost in a belittling tone.

“N-no I just.. I’ve never heard you say something like that,” I squeak out as he pushes my hand down with more force.

“What, you don’t like it?” He says with a smirk.

“I don’t know.. I th-think so..” I stammer.

“When were you gonna tell me, hm? Such an innocent girl reading such filthy books. Does it turn you on?” His hand leaves mine against his hard on and comes up to caress my cheek.

“Huh, what are you talking about?” I spit out at him, my cheeks igniting red with visible embarrassment.

Has he snooped through my room?

“I saw it all, baby. And it’s okay. It’s okay if you need me to tell you how dirty of a girl you are, or how good you make me feel. You have to let me know these things..” he trails off as his thumb brushes against my lip, smearing my peppermint chapstick onto the corner of my mouth.

“I-I’m sorry, Chris. I don’t… I didn’t know how to bring it up. I didn’t want you to think I was weird.” I look down, intimidated by his cold gaze, and he tilts my head back up, his eyes serious.

“It’s not weird. Do you touch yourself to those books baby? Reading about a man talking to a woman like that.. does it make you feel good?” He whispers the last sentence and his free hand finds my inner thigh, caressing and warming my skin.

I nod sheepishly, afraid to speak my thoughts out loud to Chris.

“Use your words. Do you ever imagine it’s me saying those things?”

“Y-yes… every single time.” I say as I release a breath.

He groans and pushes my hair behind my ear, inching closer to me and ghosting his lips over my ear. “Such a naughty girl.”

Shivers fall down my spine as he places a kiss onto the sensitive skin between my ear and jaw, his lips lingering and sucking lightly. He slides the hand on my cheek to the back of my neck, lacing his fingers into my hair and pulling down, my neck exposed to him.

“Look at the way your body reacts to me.” He whispers, placing a finger onto my jugular, and I feel it pulsing mercilessly beneath his touch.

He moves his hand to grip around my throat, his thumb and fingers pressed firmly against both pulse points of my neck. My head begins to tingle, my heartbeat pounding in my ears. His lips pepper wet kisses along my jaw, every one of them seeping into my skin and heightened from the constricted blood flow.

“You like that, my hand around your throat? I could squeeze as hard as I want.” he says before constricting his grip.

My core begins to throb hearing his inner thoughts spill from his mouth. My field of vision starts to shrink, a black vignette closing in.

“I’d never hurt you like that, sweetheart. But don’t you like the risk?” He suddenly releases his hold on my throat and all my blood rushes back up into my head. I’m dizzy and completely aroused for him.

I nod furiously before his lips crash against mine, low growls seeping out of his throat and being released into my mouth. He bites and tugs at my bottom lip before pulling away and licking a hot stripe up my chin and back up to my mouth. His lips meet mine again, his mouth open and begging for my tongue. I push it into his mouth only to be dominated, not standing a chance as his hunger grows.

Chris’s hands latch onto my hips, lifting me off the mattress and into his lap, his erection poking at my core. He breaks the kiss and grabs the hem of my shirt, sliding his hands up along with the fabric. I help him get it off, discarding it somewhere in my room. His eyes burn holes into my chest, examining the bralette covering the skin. He grabs the bottom and slides it up, my breasts bouncing as they fall out in front of him. He pushes the excess fabric up to rest on the plate of my chest.

“Fuck, Y/n. If I died with my face in your tits I’d be happy.”

He begins ravaging my breasts, nipping and licking and leaving red and purple marks across the skin. He sucks my nipples while looking so deep into my eyes I start to think he can see the back of my skull. The line of pain and pleasure is completely blurred when he takes one of my swollen nipples between his teeth and tugs on it.

“F-fuck, Chris..” I cry out, bucking my hips instinctively and pressing down onto his throbbing dick.

He lets out a deep moan, gripping my waist and prompting me to stop my movements. “You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that. I’m so fucking hard it hurts.”

I let out a little grin and begin to rock back and forth again, his head falling against the headboard with his eyes squeezed shut. His cock rubs against my clit through the multiple layers of clothing, but the pressure and friction still causes both of us to pant and moan in unison. He brings his head back up and grips my hips tighter this time, my body unable to move.

“Such a dirty girl. Can’t listen to simple instructions.”

He removes his shirt, a layer of sweat starting to form on his skin, then brings my bra over my head, not bothering with the clasp. He throws it across the room and then lifts my legs to remove my shorts before lifting me up and sliding his sweatpants off, all of which meet the same fate as the rest of the discarded clothes. He presses a hand against my chest, my back hitting the bed as he pushes me down. He comes to hover over me, his eyes dark and half lidded. His knee is pressed inbetween my thighs touching my core with a teasing amount of pressure.

“You’ve already made such a mess, baby..” he says with false concern, referring to the wetness that has seeped through my panties and is touching his skin.

“I’m s-sorry..” I whine, fighting the urge to grind against his knee.

“Don’t apologize, sweet girl. I’ll help you out.”

Chris trails kisses down my chest and stomach, randomly sucking marks into my skin on the way down. He circles his tongue around my navel before licking across it, a trace amount of his warm saliva dripping in. He traces his tongue along the lace hem of my panties, his breath burning against my skin as he grips it with his teeth.

“Please, Chris..” I whine and push him closer to the place I need him most.

His eyes show his grin as he dips his face down, flattening his tongue across the fabric covering my core. He licks and sucks at it, humming and closing his eyes as he spreads my legs apart.

“So sweet,” He whispers as he flicks his tongue up and down.

He hooks his fingers into the band of my panties and pulls, his mouth only disconnecting for a brief second to slide them down my legs before his tongue finally connects with my bare pussy. I arch my back off the bed and cry out as his tongue works against my heat. I’m a mess under him- gripping the sheets, tugging on his brown waves, grabbing my own breasts, doing whatever I can to release some of the tension building up in my body.

“You like the way my tongue feels on you, princess?” He asks in a raspy voice as he wipes his wet mouth with the back of his hand.

“Yes.. fuck please keep going..” I pant, not wanting to lose momentum as my climax has started inching its way to the top.

“How about you do what you need? Use my face and get yourself off.”

He leans back down and presses his tongue against me, holding still as he keeps eye contact. I start circling my hips, feeling the way his tongue remains in place as I grind against it. I grip onto his face and pull it closer, moving my hips down so his nose rubs my clit and his tongue rubs up and down my folds. I buck up and down in complete control and he hums against me to the point I feel like my intestines are vibrating. I speed up and increase the pressure as my stomach begins to ache with a familiar feeling.

I nearly scream, tensing up as my body burns through my climax. He remains still just letting me use him as I ride through it and come down, my grip on his hair relaxing and my body falling slack on the bed.

“Taste yourself baby. Let me show you what you did, all for me.” He whispers against my lips after he climbs to hover over me.

I’m still trying to catch my breath as his lips collide onto mine. I taste my own juices on his tongue, sweet and tangy. He presses his hips down onto my stomach and reminds me of his need, humping forward a few times and moaning into my mouth.

“Now are you gonna bend over or just sit there and look pretty?” He growls as he swiftly stands up and pulls his boxers down.

His pink tip is swollen and leaking precum. His grips his hand around his base and squeezes until his knuckles turn white, his head falling back out of pleasure or maybe the throbbing pain, there’s no way to tell. His eyes lock onto mine and he starts pumping up and down on his dick, sucking in a sharp breath.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart.”

I pull myself to my feet as quick as I can and limp to the end of the bed, my legs like jelly after tensing up so hard.

“That’s cute. Can’t wait to carry you to the shower after this one.” he smirks and licks his lips.

My breath hitches as I turn around and bend over the footboard of the bed. His hands run up and down my ass, jiggling it before giving me a light smack with both hands. I gasp, jumping forward and my ribs hit the wood I’m bent over.

“So fucking hot, can’t believe this is all mine,” he coos, running his fingers down my folds before wiping my juices onto my lower back.

I feel his head against my clit, slick with warm precum. He soaks himself in my juices as he swipes it across my entrance, barely dipping in as he grips my hip with one hand.

“Chris.. oh my god. P-please just fuck me.” I whine, my legs already shaking and twitching.

“Mmm I plan on it, baby.” he whispers before slowly pushing forward.

He slowly gives me inch by delicious inch, my walls stretching around his thickness as we moan out together. He starts slow and stays deep inside me, barely pumping in and out. He runs his hands up and down my spine as he rocks into me, his breathing slow and controlled. My pussy clenches around him as his tip brushes repeatedly over a sensitive spot.

“P-please Chris go faster,” I draw out in a moan.

He listens. His thrusts become rough and rapid, my ribs slamming against the wood with each stroke but my brain seems to tune it out. He keeps his grip on my waist with one hand and reaches around to my face with the other, shoving two fingers in my mouth. I suck on them hard, swirling and lapping my tongue around them.

“Such a fucking slut, so willing to have all your holes filled, aren’t you?” He pants as he hooks his fingers onto the corner of my mouth and pulls back.

“Nhgnh.. fuck..” is all I can manage through his manipulation of my mouth.

“What? Am I fucking you dumb? Can’t even get your words out.”

I moan in response and feel my pussy throbbing around him, my lower abdomen on fire as I climb to my next release.

“S-so close..” I mumble as drool drips down my chin.

He lets go of my mouth and grips my waist, his thumbs pressing into the dimples on my back.

“You need me to cum in you, don’t you? I know you wanna be filled up, so full your eyes start to float.” He pumps as deep as he can go, my eyes rolling back into my head and words failing to form. “Answer me.” He spits with a smack on my ass.

“Please… p-please cum in me. Need it.. s-so bad Chris!”

With that he shoves his hips against me and shoots his hot load into my pussy, coating my walls as I fall over the edge with him. I’m screaming his name as he moans mine, pure ecstasy echoing through my room. I feel his cum leaking down my legs, such a big load that it has nowhere else to go. His thrusts slow down before they come to a halt, his dick still twitching inside me.

He pulls out and hums as he backs up and takes in the sight in front of him. I have no energy to stand, my muscles aching and tired.

“Look at that. God I wish I could burn this into my brain.”

He walks over to me, wrapping his arms around my torso and lifts me, my legs helping very little to hold me up. He hooks an arm under my thighs and picks me up to hold me bridal style. I’m so tired that my head can only manage to flop against his chest, and I hear his rapid heartbeat in my ear.

He starts to walk towards my bathroom but first places a lingering kiss on my forehead. I can feel the smile on his lips.

“Told you I’d have to carry you to the shower.”