#dry sea bed
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katiajewelbox · 6 months ago
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My original AI art inspired by the Martian Series novels by Edgar Rice Burroughs.
This series of science fiction / planetary romance novels from the early 20th century follow the exciting lives of heroic characters like John Carter, Dejah Thoris, and Tars Tarkas as they explore the fascinating fictional world of Barsoom (the natives' name for the planet Mars). Although the characters and plots are fairly simple, the world building is what hooked me on this series. It's an ancient and complex world that has seen the rise and fall of many different civilisations as well as environmental catastrophes. I books' imagery of ruined white cities on dried up sea beds inspired these haunting views in my AI art.
Media: AI generated art made with my original text prompts via Copilot using DALL E 3.
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backpackingspace · 5 months ago
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Do we think odysseus started pranking Athena and her temples at some point? Because I do. He argued that it was good for sneaking and evading training. And you know what Athena couldn't argue that. Her chasing odysseus across the island was good training.
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treewithabark · 9 months ago
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Junebug’s on holiday!!
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joyousmistake · 1 year ago
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My gorgeous seaside flat is perfect in every way apart from the damp, persistent weird smells and complete lack of functional heating
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bitchimasnake-sss · 9 months ago
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Imagine telling op guys who has a crush on you, that you want to sleep with them. You just plop down next to them cuddle into them and fall asleep. It's just hem turning red and trying to calm down their thoughts
hehe, this is legit so cute. (tweaked the prompt to be a little more suggestive than just thoughts in the end.)
not a dream ft. the monster trio!
set-up: as anon asked! you happened to utter five simple words, "can i sleep with you?" to the op boys (who have a crush crush on you). now these idiots are contemplating if they'd make it out alive. warnings: includes nsfw thoughts!! no actual things happen but the guys are thinking very very perverted shit, so, if not comfortable please skip!!! m.list
luffy:
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💗 you know luffy. do you think luffy— the guy who clings to everyone, doesn't know the word "personal" and "space", who will probably hug you even if you threatened to punch him— will really mind if you told him you wanted to sleep with him? fuck no. even if you stood in front of him with a "i like you, i wanna sleep with you" in a suggestive way, he would say something along the lines of "awh, i like you too. let's sleep."
💗 but well, this was different. cause he liked you. so when you decided to show up at his door after dinner with a cranky look, he was both confused and intrigued. "what's wrong with ya?" the captain mumbled as you sat next to him on the bed. "chopper and ussop. ugghhh." you groaned, "they're doing some stupid shit next door and making so much noise. there is no possible way i can sleep there. and im sure nobody else will let me crash with them tonight in their room." luffy would have probably leapt up and gone to join the other two fools had you not sprawled out next to him. you gave him a tired smile, "so, can i sleep with you?" 💗you hadn't even waited for an answer. mindlessly, you draped a hand over his torso and snuggled into his chest. he pulled you towards himself on instinct. this was normal. yeah. hugging a crewate. yeah. totally normal. atleast for him. then why was his heart beating so fast? mouth going dry? why was sweat clinging uncomfortably to his back although he knew the night air was frigid? 💗you shifted and your chest brushed against his. luffy swallowed wantonly as you shifted again. and then one more time. trying to find the most comfortable position, he guessed. mechanically, you pushed yourself further against him. and this motherfucker went as stiff as a washboard. "luffy?" you mumbled against his skin before tracing your eyes upward. from this position, your doe-eyes bore into his, "you don't mind right? it's just really cold, sorry." how could he mind? your soft body was against his. your fingers drummed faint melodies against his back and your hair smelled like some floral scented shampoo. every time you breathed out, the warm air caressed him and goosebumps painted his hands. he felt your peaked chest brush against his again and he almost swallowed his own tongue. "luffy?" you asked again, your voice saccharine. and he vaguely wondered how would the same voice sound if he tore open that flimsy top your were wearing and held your soft skin against his palm. or if he took the courage enough to dip his fingers below the waistband of your pajamas and felt you up. would you say his name like that? 💗 well, fuck. this was the captain had thought so much in his entire life. and they were thoughts about feeling up his crewmate's tits. and, as a result of such vigorous thinking, a problem had arose in his pants. he tried to think it away. tried thinking about sea-kings or hideous devil-fruit users. of alvida. or anyone else. he even tried to think of food so that his attention could be diverted. but even the most tastiest of sanji's pudding couldn't take away the throbbing in his cock. and the delicious feeling of your soft skin next to his. as a last resort, he prayed that you wouldn't shift more and feel his dick against you. he prayed you would take his silence as rejection and simply drift off to sleep. but ofcourse, this is a godless land. because you moved again. and when you felt his hard-on against your thigh, you looked up at him. lips caught between your teeth, blinking up at him almost innocently, you asked, "got a problem, captain?" before he could answer, you pressed forward, "i think i can fix it." on the other side of the ship nami burst into chopper and ussop's room. when she yelled, it probably could be heard over the entire ship, "LET US SLEEP, YOU MORONS. WE HAVE A LONG DAY TOMORROW. GO SLEEP OR I'LL FINE YOU BOTH A MILLION BERRIES PER MINUTE THAT YOU'RE UP." you're not sure if it was chopper or ussop crying in the distance. but oh well, you have a captain to please 🤭
zoro:
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💚zoro's not even fucking sure how he ended up like this. he's sure it involved some higher-than-tolerable level of alcohol for both the parties involved. and he's sure it must have been your idea that he had drunkenly complied with. "let's sleep together" "okay" what was he thinking? because right now, you were sprawled against his chest. both of you were on his bed. his shirt was off, yours was barely on. a bit of drool peaked out from the corner of your lips. and he found himself quietly rubbing it away with the pad of his thumb, smiling softly to himself. ew?! was he still drunk?? as the realization set in, he pulled his hands back in wicked horror and looked around as if someone had seen him. it was still night, and in the middle of the night, the effects of the cheap booze must have wore off of him and he awoke to you as his bed. 💚"hey." he tried to shake you awake but you just groaned, sinking further into him. he hissed when you buried your face against his bare skin. he whisper-shouted, ignoring the goosebumps on both of your skins, "wake up. go back to your own room, woman." but you didn't shift an inch. instead, you stayed buried against him. he groaned but when his eyes fell back to your face, he couldn't help but fight off the impending blush that crawled up his face. your hair was a mess and your cheek was squished against his chest. you breathed softly and sometimes, your fingers twitched against his skin and you touched him fleetingly. and you were warm. too warm for his liking. he tried to look away but his hand carefully came up to your face. staying there not a moment too long, he dragged it downwards. over your shoulders and over your back. he stopped before he went too far and grabbed your ass, the curve so delicious in his eyes. but he stopped, pulling his hands back to lay on the linen sheets. he was a horny man, not an evil douche. 💚but you must have been hell-bent in proving flaws in his moral-code, because you shifted and your pelvis shifted over his. he bit back a grunt at the movement over the fabric. you were so cozy against him. the way you brushed up against him, the way your hair tickled him. would you like it if he pulled your hair? would you moan? god, what would you sound if you moaned out his name? he was a bad man. thinking all of those things. and he tried to focus on anything but the blood-rush to his dick, really, but the way you started moving against him, almost mechanically. god. that made all attempts to ignore his boner disappear. his hips moved upwards and he closed his eyes, giving into the friction of you against him. soft moans fell from his lips, hips still moving upwards to graze your clothed thighs. 💚"zoro?" you mumbled sleepily, rubbing your eye. you strained your neck up and he looked down at you, dazed. "you okay, zo?" when he found himself unable to talk and you found a harsh roll of hips under you, you connected the dots. a playful smile tugged on your lips, "need some help?" "no." the swordsman swallowed thickly. "fine." you shrugged, clamoring off him. your hips swayed as you made a futile attempt to find your discarded shorts somewhere in the room. you gave him a lingering look, "i should go back to my room. the crew will freak out if they find us like this." "no." he caught your wrist, tugging you towards him, "stay. i could use some help." 💚in the morning, sanji walked into the swordman's room to see if the moron could find you somewhere since you were nowhere to be found on the ship. what he found, instead, was you and the mosshead tangled in his sheets. when you and zoro had finally made it to the breakfast table, sanji may/may not have been crying. luffy, ussop and chopper were laughing in the background. nami decided it was a good enough reason to even high-five zoro. it was an awkward breakfast.
sanji:
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💙sanji was probably in heaven. yes, that's the only explanation. sure, the ship was en route to alabasta but he was on his way to heaven. because there's no way you had come seeking him out in the middle of the night. you had said, "i can't sleep." "oh?" the cook had wordlessly stepped aside and you took on the opportunity to slip in. he shut the door behind you, "can i help you then, love? want me to cook something?" "i would have really not bothered you but i don't know who else to ask. nami and vivi are sleeping together and the bed's not big for the three of us." you rambled, "and zoro probably showered five months ago. and luffy, ussop and chopper are passed out in the common room. so... can i sleep with you?" it's a miracle he didn't pass out on hearing those words. it's an even bigger miracle that that was three hours ago and he had still not passed out. now, sanji lay next to you— as stiff as a corpse— while you snored. your body shifted and your hands reached out towards sanji. your palm ran up and down his torso as to check if he was there. and once you had gotten a confirmation, you scooted in his direction and sanji held his breath as if one wayward puff of air will wake you up. 💙vinsmoke sanji was trying. he was trying o maintain his composure, to not pull you into his chest. he was trying not to think about the way your chest will feel against his, the way his fingers will glide over your thighs, the way your hand will fit around his dic— and it was as if you could hear his wretched thoughts. because your hands moved over his torso. gliding up and down. you leaned into his touch, molding your body against his. you might have been having an interesting dream cause he saw your hips gently rocking, your thighs pressed harder and you eyes clenched shut. you buried your head into his chest and the smell of your shampoo seemed to turn him on more. he ignored his weeping dick, decided to pay it no mind. but all of that resolve crumbled when he heard you moan his name into the fabric across his chest. your nails dug into his shoulders and your nose buried as deeply as it could against his skin. 💙 he gently guided his fingers to your thighs. and you shook under his soft touches. his thumb softly brushed over your clothed pussy and bucked towards his hand. he could probably just feel you up and you'd let him— "—shit." sanji quickly brought his hand back, realizing that you were sleeping and out of it. even if your lips chanted his name, he couldn't do the things his mind was convincing him to do. because if he started, he wouldn't stop. 💙so, to get himself rid of such sinful thoughts, he decided to hide in the shower and pump at his hard cock till he was tired. till you crawled out of his head. till your voice stopped ringing in his ears, making his cock impossibly harder. he slowly pushed you away, trying to climb off the bed. but as soon as you felt his warmth disappear, you cracked open an eye, "sanji?" "uh" his face went red, eyes averting, "just going to the washroom. i'd be back." you sat up, "did i go too far?" sanji's mouth hung agape as you pulled him back into bed, "i thought you wanted me to moan your name like that—" "—wh-what?" "i had a dream." you innocently traced your index nail down his torso and brushed it over his sleeping shorts, "think you can help me?" you blinked up at him, "pretty please." 💙 the next morning, the cook of the crew made the worst breakfast possible. wasn't his fault. all he could think about was you and your breathless moans and your eyes as— "this tastes like shit." the swordman argued. "thEN MAKE IT YOURSELF, FREELOADER." "might as well if you're gonna cook so bad." "—i think it tastes fine." nami sighed, "if i knew you getting some would make you a terrible cook, i would have let (yn) sleep with me and vivi." and the entire ship choked on their (terrible) breakfast.
a/n: i tweaked the prompt a bit (as i was getting stuck with the original ask), but i hope this was good enough anon!! as always, thanks for reading and send in req that you might have <3 (tagging: @bokutosbiceps cause i know you love luffy) m.list
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changbunnies · 5 months ago
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Hopelessly Devoted To You (18+)
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♡ Pairing: Greaser!Bang Chan x fem!Reader
♡ Genre: grease inspired 50s au, some angst and fluff, this was supposed to be a long full length fic but it somehow became just porn with plot lol
♡ Word Count: 11.2k
♡ Summary: You were so excited to see him again– the guy you'd spent your entire summer with, entagled in a fleeting but explosively sweet romance. But the Chris you meet again isn't the one you remember, and now if he wants to win you back he's going to have to prove just how devoted to you he really is.
♡ Warnings: chan is referred to as chris, smoking (cigarettes), some misogyny + toxic masculinity + fuck boy behavior, some 50s references and lingo, 1 instance of reader shoving chan in a fit of anger / sadness, jealous and mildly possessive chan, minor appearances from felix, changbin, minho, and hyunjin (who goes by sam)
♡ Smut Warnings: 1 reference to reader losing their virginity to chan, references / flashbacks to other smut scenes before the main scene, light dom/sub dynamics, switch!chan, pet names (doll, sugar, baby), public sex, car sex, exhibitionism, oral (f rec, referenced m rec), fingering (f rec), nipple play, daddy kink, panty stealing (kind of), squirting, 1 mention of reader having pubic hair, maybe a lil breeding kink??, protected piv
♡ Notes: i've had this sitting in my drafts since december and finally got around to finishing it gfdhgfh this is incredibly self indulgent as grease is one of my fave movies ever and chan as danny zuko is constantly rattling around in my brain. the build up is pretty short (by my usual standards) as i moved the plot along a lot quicker than i normally would so idk if it's my best work but hopefully you enjoy it!
♡ Disclaimer: please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people.
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You remember well the first time you met Chris. Lounging aimlessly at the beach with the sunset on the horizon, his feet in the sand with a silver dog tag necklace hanging low over his bare chest, a cigarette from his previously discarded jeans held between his lips. Fresh from the ocean with beads of water still dripping off his toned body, slicking back his damp hair before fumbling through a different pocket for his lighter.
You watched him bring it up to his face after successfully digging it out, cupping his other hand around it to protect the flame as he lit the cigarette in his mouth. You watched him take a long drag, watched him blow the smoke out from the corners of his mouth, watched him sigh before deciding to towel dry his legs enough to wrangle his jeans back on. 
The beach had been quickly growing sparse by the time you spotted him. Groups of friends clearing out to make it to the local diner before all the tables were filled, parents wanting to get their kids to bed before the moon fully rose in the sky, couples on double dates bunching up in one car as they decide to hit the drive-in together.
You yourself were in no rush to leave– you came alone, tired of your parents bickering during what was supposed to be a fun family vacation. You’d stay as long as you could, you’d decided– really soak in the peace the sea brings before returning to your aunt’s beach house, where you were all staying for the summer.
But safe to say, the sight of him enraptured you. He was handsome, devastatingly so– you never expected to see a man with a visage to rival even that of James Dean himself with your own eyes, but there he was before you; and your heart stuttered when he glanced over in your direction.
He had just finished pulling his jeans up and over his haunches when he noticed you, cocking a brow when your eyes met– and you could tell in an instant that he knew you’d been staring at him. His smile made your breath hitch, pretty dimples peeking out on his cheeks as he acknowledged you with a playful wave.
Hesitantly, you lifted your hand and waved back, and he grinned, eyes still locked on yours as he pulled up the zipper of his jeans. He turned back to his belongings on the ground, shook the sand out of his white tee before pulling it on. He grabbed his leather jacket, slung it over his shoulder before turning to look at you once more.
You swallowed, face running hot from his gaze alone– you hoped, as he began walking towards you, that you could play it off as having not put on enough sunscreen before coming here. You were sitting on a towel, legs to your chest with your arms wrapped around them, but you lowered them as he approached you.
He tossed his cigarette to the the side once he was close, letting its flame fizzle out in the sand. He looked you up and down when you stood up, introducing himself with a charismatic smile that made your heart race faster. You stuttered when speaking, and his smile widened, one of his hands going to rest in the pocket of his jeans while the other kept his leather jacket in place over his shoulder. 
Chris was the most, to say the least– and when he asked if he’d see you again tomorrow, you promised him he would. You watched him walk over to a beat up, old top down cadillac, throwing his jacket into the car before jumping in– literally jumping in, hand on top of the closed car door as he hopped over it into the driver's seat. 
He gave you another glance after starting the ignition, and you smiled meekly as you offered him another wave. Chris grinned, raising his hand to say goodbye before putting it back on the wheel and burning rubber out of the parking lot.
You spent nearly every summer day with him after that. Days at the beach spent splashing each other in the water while you giggled, hopping in his cadillac to go catch whatever new flick was showing, or sharing a milkshake at his favorite diner. He’d hold your hand as you walked through the sand, giggled with you over silly inside jokes while eating burgers and fries, hugged you tight after you gave him a chaste kiss on the cheek at the end of the night.
Chris gave you dimes to pick tunes on the jukebox, and would sing along to your selections with the prettiest voice you’d ever heard. He took you to the county fair, would shoot you goofy grins after kissing you with lips sticky from cotton candy, got on the ferris wheel with you and squeezed your hand when the height made you dizzy, kissing away your nerves when you reached the very top.
He won you a teddy bear from the soda toss, put his leather jacket over your shoulders when the sun set and the air began to chill, wrapped his arm around your shoulder while you were waiting in line to buy some popcorn. He’d lean down to whisper a joke in your ear, and you’d slap his arm with a giggle while he squeezed you closer.
You watched him soup up the engine of his car, and he’d take your hand after a long day of working on it, pull you in to dance with him while the radio blared the hippest tunes. When he was satisfied with the restoration of his cadillac, he started taking you out on long drives, wind whipping through your hair as he drove fast through the back streets of the city.
He’d drive you to secluded hills overlooking the city, where you’d make out until he had to drive you home in time for curfew. He’d park his car far down the street, away from where your family could see him dropping you off– because Lord knows your mother's heart would give out if she saw you spending your vacation with a guy that looked like him.
And through it all, days spent back at the beach where you first met him were always your favorite. You would let Chris lay you down on a towel in the sand and kiss you over and over, until you were both heaving and hot. You lost your virginity to him like that– alone on the beach, towels laid down and moon high in the sky after having snuck out of the window of your guest bedroom to meet him.
He’d whisper sweet words in your ear, make you fall apart with deft fingers and an equally deft tongue. Sometimes, instead of sneaking out to see him, he’d be the one showing up at your guest room's window, grinning at you as you opened it to let him in. He’d fuck you there, in the bed with his hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your moans of pleasure, lest your family discover what it is you’re really up to while "alone" in your room. 
Chris would crawl over to you in the passenger seat at the drive-in, sink to his knees and dip his head underneath your long poodle skirt, the flick on screen long forgotten as he pulled your panties to the side to kiss and lick your dripping pussy. Sometimes he’d fuck you there too, parked all the way in back with the windows and hood of the car up to hide what you were doing (as if the rocking didn’t give it away to anyone who happened to look.)
Sometimes, when he parked up the street to drop you off after sharing ice cream at the drive thru malt shop, you’d lean over the gear shift, taking his cock out of his jeans and sucking him off right there, with not nearly enough care for who could possibly see you. He’d give you the sweetest kiss before helping you out of the car, promising he’d see you tomorrow too, and the day after, and the day after that, until eventually your family’s summer vacation had to come to an end.
Chris was a dreamboat that day, as he always was– hair greased back with a few curly strands left over his forehead, loose black tee tucked into his jeans, leather jacket on with its collar ever so slightly popped, his dog tag necklace sparkling when the sun hit it just right. He was leaning against the door of his newly souped up cadillac with a lit cigarette resting between his lips, though he promptly threw it to the ground when he saw you walking over.
“There’s my girl! And ain’t she a doll,” he grinned as he pulled you to his body, kissing you sweetly as you blushed. You weren’t wearing anything he hadn’t seen you in before– just one of your usual white blouses and pretty pink skirts, but he always made sure to tell you that he thought you were the absolute most.
He walked around to the other side of the car, opened the door for you and closed it shut behind you when you got in. He hopped into the driver’s seat after, starting the ignition and turning to you with that beaming smile that made your stomach flip. “What’s the plan today, sugar?” he asked, throwing his arm around you while leaving one hand on the steering wheel.
In the end, you spent the day as you had many times before– driving through the city, hitting up the diner to split a strawberry milkshake, and watching the sunset at the beach; the same beach where you met him, and where the house you were staying in lied just a couple hundred yards away. You were sitting on the rocks, his leather jacket off and resting behind you, his arm curled around your waist. 
His jeans were filthy with sand, as was your skirt, but neither of you cared– you just stayed there together, watching the sun sink lower and the waves crash against the shore. Chris kissed you when you looked up at him with watery eyes, agonized over the idea of never seeing him again. He’d given you the best summer of your entire life, and all you wanted was to stay– but you couldn’t. And though he comforted you the best he could, you both knew it was the end.
Chris held your hand to help you off the rocks, gave you a kiss before you turned away to make the walk to your aunt’s beach house. And you both knew it was the end– but not just yet. He came to your window later that night, and you let him in, bringing your hands to his face and eagerly pressing your lips to his.
He walked you back to the bed as you kissed him, laid you back gently and crawled between your legs. He made you cum on his fingers before reaching into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a condom and tearing it open with his teeth. He rolled it easily down his cock, his jeans having fallen down his legs just enough to let him fuck you.
You reached your hands underneath his shirt, hungrily tracing your hands over every inch of his skin. Your nightgown was bunched above your thighs, legs spread wide to accommodate him. He eventually pulled the top of it down too, exposing your chest to him and leaving your stomach as the only covered part of your body.
Sweat dripped from his brow, his normally perfectly slicked hair tousled from your fingers sliding through it– and you didn't care that the pomade in his hair dirtied your fingers; in fact, it made it feel nicer when you brought your hand to one of your breasts, and rolled your nipples between them. Your stomach flipped when he grinned and called you a dirty girl, running a hand through his hair to grease up his fingers too and tweak the other nipple not being played with by your own.
He kissed you to muffle your moans and desperate whines, and it was nowhere near as effective as when it was his hand clamped over your mouth, but it was better. He had to slow down when fucking you fast unintentionally made your bedframe slam against the wall, and you gasped, praying no one woke up from the sound.
Thankfully, no one came knocking on your door– and though you were both desperate, clinging to one another hard and sliding your tongues around each other’s with fervor, he fucked you slow and deep after that. "Chris, daddy, please– 'm gonna cum," you moaned when he brought his slicked up fingers to your clit. 
Chris groaned before kissing you again, and you came with a muffled cry, your nails digging desperately into his biceps. He kept rolling his hips into you through it, your body trembling with sensitivity until he eventually came too, all his cum spilling into the condom. 
He stayed for a while after that, holding you close and wiping tears from your eyes with his thumbs. He snuck out in the middle of the night, promised you despite it all that it wasn’t the end– you’d see each other again someday, he just knew it; he wanted you to believe it too.
You got a couple of hours of sleep before morning, and gave your family the best smile you could manage as you tossed your luggage in the trunk of your dad's chevy bel air. You slouched in the back seat, trying not to cry and wishing more than anything you were in Chris’ old cadillac instead.
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The Chris you reunited with wasn’t yours, and if it was, then fate was cruel for bringing you back to him.
The Chris you knew wouldn’t have looked at you like that– like you’re a desperate and fast girl, or an overly smitten near stranger hoping to get her kicks from him one last time while his friends snickered behind him. The Chris you knew wouldn’t join in on their snickering, tilting his head with an amused expression, tongue poking his cheek as he combs his fingers through his slicked back hair.
The Chris you reunited with wasn't yours, and the realization that you didn't really know him the way you thought you did utterly broke your heart.
You were back in the city– your parents, after having settled whatever marital disputes they were having, decided to settle down here. They loved their time together in the city when all their little tiffs were said and done, and they could tell you loved it here too.
They thought it’d benefit everyone to set up shop somewhere new, where everyone could reset. Plus, your mom wanted to be close to her sister again– and you certainly wouldn’t complain about spending more time at your aunt’s beach house.
You desperately wanted to see Chris again, and you knew it’d only be a matter of time before you did– unlike you, he grew up in the city, lived here his entire life. And while it’d been months since you parted at the end of summer considering your parents had to do a lot of work to shift the family business to a new location while also looking for a decent house up for sale, it would happen eventually– you were certain of it.
And soon enough you did see him, knew in an instant it was him even at a distance– because you’d recognize his restored cadillac anywhere. He was leaning against the car door like usual, cigarette in his mouth and leather jacket on his back, with a circle of friends around him. You never met his friends– he told you they were pigs, said that you wouldn’t like them much.
Besides, you were only going to be in town a few short months– why waste your precious few days hanging around with other people when you could be alone? That’s what he always told you– and as you tentatively began to walk up the street closer to them, you could tell they certainly did talk more vulgarly than you were used to hearing.
“C’mon man, you gotta let me borrow her,” one of his friends begged in reference to his car, “she’s a real pussy wagon. My chick’ll cream if I pick her up in it.” “Get your own wheels, bozo,” Chris shoved him with a laugh, “I ain’t lettin’ you take my girl on any joyrides.”
“What if you come too? Make it a double date, you know– and nobody’s got bigger tits than Annette. I got dibs, but she’ll be real nice eye candy for you,” his friend persuaded and Chris hummed, as if seriously considering it. Would he really go?
“Mm, maybe,” he grinned, tossing his cigarette to the ground and digging it into the gravel with his foot, “You do got a point. Tell her to bring a pretty friend, and I’ll think about it.” You blinked, stopped walking and simply stared at him. Had he moved on already? It’d only been a few months, but maybe you fell for him harder than he fell for you; the thought of it made your heart sink to your stomach.
His friend cheered and hugged him tight, and Chris pushed him away with another laugh, running a hand through his hair to fix it up as he characteristically did whenever it got even the slightest bit out of shape. In that same moment is when he glanced over in your direction, catching sight of you by pure coincidence.
His eyes widened when he saw you, mouth gaping open for a split second before he called your name in a mix of utter shock and joy. That was more like the Chris you knew– and it gave you hope. You ran up to him, and he to you, bringing his hands to your shoulders and touching you up and down your arms– truly, he couldn’t believe you were here, and he had to touch you to be certain it was real. 
“What– what are you doing here? I-I thought you went back home with your folks, I thought–” he was smiling, entirely giddy as he looked you up and down. “We moved! I’m here to stay,” you told him excitedly, bouncing on your heels as you stared up at him.
It made you so, so happy; to the point that the contents of his prior conversation entirely lifted from your mind. It pains you thinking back to how naive and lovesick for him you were– you wish you'd have known better. 
“I can’t believe it! I–” he started to exclaim, but then realized his friends followed him, crowding around his back while shooting him inquisitive looks, and he quickly took his hands off you.
He cleared his throat, tucked his hands in his pockets in a gesture meant to bring him back to his aloof state of being, and he grinned– not that pretty grin that made your heart flutter, but a wicked one. “I mean– that’s cool, baby.”
You didn’t like it, your brows furrowing at the change in his demeanor. “Christopher–” you started, but one of his friends spoke up before you could talk much more. “Who’s the chick?” he asked as he looked you up and down, and Chris hesitated. “Oh, uh–”
“Oh, I know!” the friend suddenly exclaimed, hit by an epiphany, “the one from the beach you wouldn’t let us meet– the one who puts out. This her? It is, isn’t it?”
Your face burned red, unpleasant heat crawling over your body as the rest of his friends snickered. He told them you put out? Why would he do that? Your expression crumbled, body trembling with embarrassment and grief, but Chris kept his own cool.
“Don’t worry, doll, I didn’t tell them all the horny details,” he smirked, and his friends' snickers erupted into full on laughs as they slapped his back in amusement. Your body burned hot with indignation, eyes welling with tears as your frustration and anguish boiled over. You shoved him as hard as you could, though it hardly even caused him to take a step back.
“I wish I’d never laid eyes on you, you– you creep!” you cried before turning away, ready to run back home to throw the teddy bear he won you in the trash and sob into your pillows. “That’s not all she laid on him,” one of his friends commented under his breath, the rest laughing and hooting as you sprinted away from them, back down the street.
Chris just watched, body tense and face sullen, heart twisting in his chest. He watched you turn the corner, wiping tears from your eyes before you disappeared entirely out of view, his friends still laughing and giving him pats on the back.
But when he turned to them, he put the smirk back on, and they all hopped into his car to hit the drive-in as if he didn't care about what just happened with you, as if the guilt wasn't going to eat away at him every night.
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The next time Chris sees you is weeks later, at a new mom-and-pop shop freshly opened on the edge of the city. He’s there with his friends, all of them jumping out his cadillac before he’s even fully parked, rushing inside to grab a good table.
And when he walks in, it’s not his friends that he sees first but you– sitting at a booth with another guy across from you. There's an empty plate with tiny remnants of ketchup still left behind that he just knows you used for your french fries, and a milkshake between you with two straws stuck in it.
Part of him is relieved you aren’t sharing a single straw with the man like you would’ve done with him, but his gut still twists from the sight regardless. And when you giggle at something indiscernible the guy says, Chris feels liquid hot envy boil in his blood, jaw tightening and fists clenching as he cracks his neck. 
“Chris, over here!” his best pal, Felix, calls from across the shop, and that’s when you see him too. You can’t help but look when you hear his name called, eyes widening when they land on him. He tenses, eyes lingering on you for a few seconds longer before he inevitably joins his friends at the table they scouted out in the middle of the room.
He can't focus on anything his friends are saying– the only thing he vaguely hears through the fog in his brain is Changbin begging the others for spare nickels so he can afford the dog-sled delight. It all becomes tuned out noise, because all he can think about is how much he missed you, and how much it pisses him off that you're here with someone else.
It's Chris' own fault, he knows that, and that makes the feeling even worse– like bile in his throat that he can't swallow down. It doesn’t take Minho, the most perceptive of his friend group, to notice that he’s staring at you and to comment on it.
“What, you still hung up on that chick?” he questions, and Chris scoffs as he snaps out of his fog, leaning back in his chair and acting as aloof as he can bring himself to. “What? No, of course not,” he says, but his eyes still linger on you, fingers twitching with irritation when he hears you laugh again, and watches you playfully slap the man’s arm like you would do to his.
Eventually, you hold out your palm to your date, and he watches the guy dig through his pockets to give you something. Chris knows immediately what's happening– you’re waiting to be given a dime or two, and you’ll saunter off to the jukebox to pick a new tune once they’re in hand.
He watches you rise from the booth, waits until you’ve made the walk over to rise from his table, muttering to his friends that he needs to hit the can real quick. He takes a few steps in the direction of the bathroom, and then immediately turns, going straight to you instead.
He props an arm on the jukebox after he approaches, leans against it and looks down at you as you cycle through the record choices. “Hey baby,” he tries, but you ignore him, don’t even spare him a glance as you continue to give the jukebox your full attention.
“Listen– I’m sorry,” he tries again, and you just hum in acknowledgement, still not turning your gaze to look at him. He swallows, glances back at his friends who are perfectly oblivious to what he’s doing, and then back to you. “I just– you know how it is, right? The guys, they expect me to act a certain way, and–”
“That’s why I’m so glad I met Sam,” you interrupt, turning around to look at your date and offer him a sweet wave. Chris hates it, but at least you’re talking to him now– he’ll take what he can get. He still ends up scowling however when your date waves back, and you turn back to the jukebox, still without glancing up at Chris himself.
“What, you like that square?” he scoffs as he looks your date up and down. He’s smartly dressed; pristine khaki slacks and a brown sweater vest pulled over his white button up, his hair in a neatly styled, respectable crew cut– but that’s not your type.
At least, he hopes it's not; because that would make Chris the outlier, and that’s not what he wants to be. He’ll also be damned if he ends up losing you to a goody two shoes like that.
“He’s sweet to me. And I don’t have to question what his intentions are, unlike with you,” you reply, and the emphasis put on 'you' makes his heart sink. While he certainly deserves to hear it, it doesn’t make him any less upset– not with you, but with himself. He really let his pride and reputation get in the way, and he knows he fucked up. But he wants you, and surely you know that, right?
You finally settle on a tune; Those Magic Changes– the one he knows is your absolute favorite. The one he even used to serenade you with once whilst dancing, you giggling away with a cute blush on your cheeks whilst he twirled you around. He sang it more exaggeratedly towards the end, purposely putting on a goofy voice to make you laugh harder as he dipped you down.
He kissed you before lifting you back up, and then again when you were completely upright, your hand on his shoulder and his arm around your waist, your other free hands intertwined. The way you looked at him when he pulled back from the kiss made his heart pound, but he played it cool– shot you that grin that always made your legs feel like jelly, kissing your cheeks when it made your blush deepen.
Chris liked feeling the heat of your blush against his lips, liked having your hands on him even when it was in the purest of ways, liked the way you giggled and smiled at him when he playfully winked at you. The memory strikes him hard when you press the play button to start the song, and he takes a step back from the jukebox, fists clenched at his side.
You look at him then– really look at him. Instantly he feels small, your gaze that once held so much love for him now meeting him with the utmost scrutiny. He fucked up, he knows he did– but what does he do now? He can’t even trust himself to say something without fucking it up even worse. 
And the pain of it all hits you too– he can see it in your eyes just before you steel your expression, and do your best to act unaffected. "See you around, Christopher," you mutter as you turn away from him and the jukebox.
You walk back to the booth where Sam awaits your return with a smile, while Chris just stands there, your favorite song blaring painfully loud in his ears as he stares at your back. "..begs you please, come back to me, please return to me, don't go away again," the lyrics mock him harshly.
He doesn't know what to do, but he knows he has to do something, anything, to show you he’s sincerely sorry. He needs to show you he still wants you, needs you to give him another chance– more than he’s ever needed anything.
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The next time Chris sees you is once again by coincidence, while he’s sitting alone in the parking lot of the sock hop his little sister just begged him to take her to. He was trying to decide what to do with his time– if he left, he’d have to come back in a couple hours to pick her up, but surely it was better than sitting around outside, bored out of his mind while he waited for her.
He could go in, but sock hops aren’t really his thing– the only time he ever danced was with you, and he didn’t plan on changing that. All he’d do inside is stand on the edge of the room and watch his sister dance, and he didn’t much feel like doing that either. Besides, his little sister was a good girl, and she didn’t need, nor want, his constant supervision.
And he’s just about to turn the key in his ignition and burn rubber when he sees you, arm linked with stupid fucking Sam as he opens the door for you with his free hand. And fuck, he doesn't even care that he's about to crash your date– he just needs to talk you. He jumps out of his car in a rush, pulling open the door to the building and heading straight to the line leading to the dance floor.
Chris’ jaw tenses when he sees you– Sam is leaning down to whisper something in your ear while you wait in the line, and you cover your mouth as you giggle. He hates how similar it is to the days he spent with you at the fair, waiting in line for rides and popcorn. The envy bubbling in his gut makes him feel sick, and he has to take a breath to calm himself down before he approaches you.
He steps to where you are in the line when he feels mellowed out enough, you and your date turning around curiously when they hear his voice call your name. Your eyes widen when you see it's him, but you’re quick to correct your expression before your date notices anything off about you. “Can I talk to you?” Chris asks, not at all acknowledging Sam’s presence beside you.
Even when you divert your gaze to glance at your date’s reaction, Chris’ eyes stay firmly on you, awaiting your answer. “Please?” he follows up, and it makes you swallow. It’s the first time he’s ever taken a pleading, desperate tone with you, and he can tell rejecting him isn’t going to come easily to you– it gives him hope that you'll finally hear him out, maybe even take him back.
“I–” you hesitate a moment, and just as Chris’ new, shiny hope begins to dim, you unlink your arm from your date. “I’ll be right back, just stay in the line,” you tell Sam before shooting Chris a look and walking past him. He follows you back outside, and you cross your arms as you stand against the cold brick of the exterior.
“What do you want?” you cut straight to the point. There’s a million things he wants to say, but his built up jealousy causes him to ask the stupid, burning question first and foremost. “Since when do you go to sock hops?” he questions, and it almost makes you laugh– he’s unbelievable, breaking your heart like that and then pulling stunts like this. 
“Since nice boys ask me to go with them. Why, you jealous?” you accuse him and he scoffs, trying once again to play off what he feels. “Me? Jealous? Don’t make me laugh,” he says, unable to help the instinctive reaction to being called out. And he instantly regrets it, but it’s too late to take it back.
“Oh, so you won’t mind if I go back inside then?” you ask as you step away from the wall, starting to walk past Chris and back to the doors. He grabs your arm to stop you, and you look up at him expectantly. “Don’t, I–” he grits his teeth, hesitates for a moment, but ultimately decides to be honest, “I am, okay? So don’t.”
He lets your arm go, and his admission thankfully proves enough to make you stay. You settle back against the brick wall, but you don’t look at him after– instead you look down at the ground, staring at your sleek, black and white saddle shoes instead of meeting his gaze.
It’s silent for a moment, with Chris wracking his brain as he tries to figure out the right thing to say to you. “What you did was terrible, you know,” you end up breaking the silence first, your voice soft.
“I know, I– I meant it when I said I was sorry,” Chris says while moving a step closer to you, and still you hesitate to look at him. “I didn’t believe you. Still don’t,” you reply, and honestly, he can’t blame you– he should’ve been more sincere when he approached you.
But he was being a fucking idiot, still trying to play it cool even though it was just the two of you standing there by the jukebox. And who gave a fuck if his friends happened to look over and saw him talking to you? Why should he care? Is it really so wrong for him to be whipped for you?
Even the first time he saw you again, he should've done all the things he really wanted to do. He should've kissed you and hugged you tight, should've told you how happy he was to know you’re here to stay, should’ve flipped his friends the bird and told them to fuck off if they questioned him. But he didn’t– he cracked under the expectations, and you suffered for it.
There’s a lot he wants to say, but he doesn’t know how to say it– he’s never been vulnerable about his feelings before you, but he wants to try. Even if he screws up over and over again, he’ll keep trying– because you deserve it. And he should apologize again, sincerely, but there’s another question burning in his blood that he has to ask.
“Do you really like that guy? You’re not, like– going steady, are you?” Chris questions and you shrug, finally looking up from the ground to meet his eyes. “That depends,” you tell him, peeling your back away from the wall to stand directly in front of him, holding your hands behind your back.
“On what?” he follows up, and you smile– a small one, but it’s enough for him. “On you,” you answer, and the hope flares back up, drowning out the envy and shame in veins and replacing it with pure, unfiltered glee.
“Yeah?” he grins as he tilts his head, and your smile grows the tiniest bit more as you nod. You may still have your doubts about his sincerity, but the fact that you’re willing to give him a chance is all he needs– he’ll use the time you give him to prove it to you, to make sure you’re left with no doubts that you’re the one that he wants, to promise that he'll never break your heart again.
“Come with me then, back inside– you’re gonna be my date,” he says as he holds out his hand to you. Sock hops may not have been his style before, but they can be for you. “What about Sam?” you question, but still take his hand regardless.
“He can stag it the rest of the night for all I care. You’re mine, sugar,” Chris replies, and it sends butterflies sweeping through your stomach as you giggle in delight. “And your friends?” you ask next, knowing it’s very well possible he’ll crack under the expectations of his rep with them again if they see you together.
“Fuck ‘em,” he replies easily; and you’re both sure it’ll be easier said than done for him to not give a shit what they think, but he’ll do his best. He doesn’t want to do anything to make you regret giving him another chance. “Let’s dance, baby,” he grins at you, pulling you along with him as he steps back inside the building with you in tow.
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There’s a thought in Chris’ head that he never before thought he’d ever have– the sock hop was perfect. And well, maybe it’s not the sock hop itself necessarily that he enjoyed, but you– yes, it was most certainly you. The time spent with you was everything he’d been missing, everything he could’ve ever hoped for following your departure from the city and his subsequent abysmal fuck up. 
He knew he didn’t deserve any of it– and he was certain you were going to share a more serious talk about it all later, but he couldn’t deny the satisfaction he felt walking back into the building and seeing Sam utterly bewildered that his date was now clinging to his own arm instead.
And he won’t shirk his responsibility to do better by you– he’ll own up to his mistakes, he’ll change, be someone deserving of you. It may take a lot of time and effort to unlearn all the dumb shit he’s taken in over the years, but he swears he’ll try– tonight is just the start of a lifetime of proving to you that he’ll do anything to keep you.
All night, you’ve been positively radiant– and truly, Chris has never felt luckier in all his life. He delighted in the way you smiled at him while dancing, enjoyed the way you squealed in excitement and bounced on your heels when the live band decided to play a cover of your favorite tune, couldn’t help the way a goofy grin spread over his face when you pecked him on the cheek following a slow dance.
You’re the only one in the world who’s ever seen it, you know– the only one who gets to see his dimples, or to hear him giggle. The only one he’s ever sung to and danced with, the only one he’s ever wanted to stay up all night talking on the phone with, the only one he’s ever taken out for more than a quick and simple joyride in his car.
He could feel the inquisitive, disbelieving stares too– Chris has lived here his entire life, and everyone knows the kind of guy he is. And maybe he’s simply lucky– he knows he’s nothing but a delinquent, knows his reputation precedes him, knows he doesn’t deserve the affection of a good girl like you. 
Regardless of it all, you love him– enough to give him another chance even when he hasn’t yet done enough to earn it. And effortlessly, you unlock the soft part of him– the part of him that desires and yearns and wants. He burns for you, the only girl in the world his heart has ever raced for, the only who knew who he was beyond the rough surface he projected to the rest of the world.
Now you’re outside tentatively standing next to Chris’ car, waiting for him to come back from confirming with his sister that she’ll hitch a ride home from her friends instead of him. It embarrasses him how she grills him with questions about you– and he answers in the vaguest of terms, having to promise that he’ll fill her in on it all in more detail later, but to please just let him go be alone with his girl.
He’s certain that no one else would believe it if he told them, but his intentions to be alone with you are entirely pure. Now that he’s close to having you as his again, he wants to do right by you– take it slow, kiss you soft and tender, touch you light and chaste, respectfully, sweetly. He wants to take you on dates again, wants to save up all his quarters to buy you something special, wants to devote his every moment to showing you how sincerely he loves you.
He wants you to meet his friends properly (after he gives them a stern warning to be gentlemen in front of you), wants you to meet his parents, and he wants to meet yours in turn. He wants to stop playing it cool and aloof and confident when he feels something– doesn’t want to keep pretending that the way you look at him doesn’t drive him wild, not just with lust but with adoration.
And certainly, you know that Chris is softer than he outwardly appears– you’re not blind to the way his cheeks and ears burn when you kiss him sweet and call him that name that makes his heart skip a beat. And unlike you, Chris knew what he was doing– so it was natural for him to always be the one leading your little song and dance, even when on the inside he felt like he was going to positively combust from the way your eyes sparkled at him.
There’s something you’ve been wanting to try– something that you couldn’t before, because your summer together passed by in a blink, and there was so much you didn’t know when your relationship first began. And Chris has taught you a lot in your time together– maybe more than he even realizes.
He may not know it, but he’s made you into a real insatiable minx. And now that you know he’s willing to beg and plead and grovel for you to take him back, oh how it makes your heart race with the possibilities. How far can you take it? How far is he willing to go for you, to prove that he’s devoted to you entirely? Would he really do anything to keep you?
Chris told you, just a few moments ago as the sock hop was coming to an end, that he’ll do anything and everything to make sure you don’t regret giving him another chance with him. He looked you straight in the eyes, vulnerable and entirely sincere, squeezed your hands in his as countless promises left his lips. 
Could he be manipulating you? Is he nothing but a dirty liar? It’s certainly possible– but you’d like to believe the Chris you knew last summer is the truest version of himself. You’d like to believe that the Chris you saw tonight isn’t an act to keep stringing you along. So you want to try something– something bold, something the you of last summer would’ve never thought to do.
You don’t think your shyness will ever entirely evaporate given that Chris is such an utter dreamboat, but he does well enough at playing it cool, so who's to say you can’t do it too? You can be playful and enticing, can play it coy and innocent while you flutter your lashes at him, can smile and pout at him in a way that makes desire spread through his veins like explosive, hot fireworks.
When Chris walks back out of the building you have to make a conscious effort to ignore the butterflies in your stomach– you’ve decided you’re a woman on a mission tonight, after all. The parking lot is sparse now, and the last stragglers from the sock hop all shuffle to their cars, his sister and her group of friends being among them.
Though you only met her briefly, you offer her a pleasant wave goodbye, and she smiles at you as she returns it– though you don’t miss the way she shoots her older brother a look after. A look that says “don’t fuck this up for yourself.” It almost makes you giggle– you like having his sister on your side; you get the impression she’ll chew him out if he doesn’t shape up the way he’s promised to. 
Chris doesn’t turn to you until after his sister and her friends have peeled out of the parking lot– you’re not sure if it’s because he wanted to make sure she was going to be safe, or if it’s because he felt like she’d gotten enough of an eyeful of him being affection with you, and he’d be embarrassed if she saw anymore. You like either answer.
“Hi baby,” he says, soft and sweet as he smiles, and it makes your heart once again skip a beat. Even after hours of dancing, he still looks utterly perfect– not a single piece of his greased up hair out of place. You hope you’re faring the same– you didn’t really get a chance to look at yourself in the mirror at the end of the night to know for certain, but you want Chris to think you look divine.
“Am I taking you straight home?” he asks; it’s dark out now, but you still have a fair amount of time before you’re expected back home. And while he’d love to spend more time with you, he isn’t going to assume– this is a trial period, after all; he still has to earn that, he’s sure.
Calling you his earlier was more hope on his end than confidence– he wants you to be his, but he knows he has to earn your trust back first. And he’s going to be a gentleman– any boundary you have, he’ll adhere to, no matter what. He refuses to fuck up with you again.
“No,” you answer short and simple, smiling up at him as you do. But before he can ask you what you want to do until curfew, you’re speaking again. “My shoe's untied,” you pout, leaning back against his car while gently lifting your foot from the ground to show him, “can you fix it for me, please?”
“You want me to tie it for you, baby?” he laughs a little as he tilts his head to the side, thinking you’re just oh so cute when you keep up the pout as you nod. He gets down on one knee easily, and you put your foot right on his knee, watching as he ties your laces back together. When he’s finished, you don’t put your foot back on the ground– you press it right to the middle of his chest.
“Baby?” Chris looks up at you curiously– and there’s a twinkle in your eye he’s never seen before. He almost thinks you’re going to kick him back on his behind, but you don’t– you take your skirt into your hands, and start to pull it up. Slowly, it rises above your calf, your knee, your thigh, until he can see your pretty white panties, with its precious little pink bow in the center.
“S-Sugar, what– what are you–” he stammers, struggling to form words in a way he never has before. You’ve never exposed yourself to him like this– just out in the open, with no barrier between you and the rest of the world. You aren’t in your bedroom, you aren’t inside the car with the windows and hood up– you’re out, in the middle of the fucking parking lot where anyone could see. 
Fuck, even the times at the beach, when he made love to you in the sand, were much, much more secluded than this– because those excursions were isolated, close to your aunt’s beach house and happening in the dead of night. And this is very much not– it’s barely even 9 o’clock, and you’re at a public venue; anyone could come by, and for any reason.
“I need your help with something else too, daddy,” you say as you pout some more, clearly acting coy, and he swallows as he stares up at you. “Can you do it, daddy? Can you help me?” You take as much of your skirt's fabric into one hand as you can, keeping it lifted above your thigh while you move your other hand between your legs, pulling your panties to the side to show him your pussy.
The action sends all of Chris’ blood careening to his cock– he can’t believe you’re really doing this right now. “Right– right here? N-Now?” he gulps, taking a quick glance around the parking lot. You’re alone now, but still– he never thought you’d do something so bold. Even just fooling around in the back seat of the cadillac with as much privacy as he could give you made you impossibly shy.
“Yes, here, now,” you tell him, keeping your panties hooked to the side with two fingers, while using the other two to spread your folds apart for him the best you can. You’re trying to entice him, and fuck, is it working. He never thought he’d see you this way, and it’s making him feel so utterly electric– he’s a fucking live wire, and he’ll pour his current straight into you.
Anything you want from him, it’s yours– he doesn’t need any convincing, he’s already impossibly ensnared by the rope that is your desire for him. And fuck, he said he wouldn't do this, said he'd be a gentleman, take things slow and build back up to intimacy with you– but if you're practically begging him for it, how can he resist?
Chris takes your foot into his hand, carefully lifts it from his chest and throws your leg over his shoulder before he crawls closer to you. The concrete of the parking lot ground is brutal against his knees, but he doesn’t give a shit– you need him, and that’s all that matters.
He replaces your hand, keeps your panties shoved aside with his own. Now that your hand is free you use it to hold onto the car door and give yourself some extra support as he starts placing kisses to your clit. His lips always feel so perfect– especially when he licks them first, gets them nice and wet for you; the sensation draws out a pleasant sigh, but you both know it isn’t really enough.
Chris likes to tease you, make you wait until you’re squirming and trembling from all his repeated kisses, gets you so worked up you could beg and cry before he finally gives you his tongue. But tonight is about getting what you want, when you want it– so as much as you enjoy his soft little kisses, you’re not going to let him work you up.
He’ll be the one fraying at the edges, the one desperate and pleading, the one who feels like his brain is filled with cotton, looking up at you from down on his knees with glassy eyes full of need. You let go of the car door, bring your hand to his head and thread your fingers through his hair. You pull back just enough to have his head tilting away from your pussy, making his eyes land straight up at you.
“Baby–” he gasps, and again you meet his gaze with that sinfully deceitful pout. “You said you’d do anything for me, daddy,” you say as you shoot him your best doe eyed look, “Did you mean it? Will you do anything for me?” Fuck, you’ve got him throbbing– you can see his erection straining against his jeans, and it nearly makes you grin in delight.
Still, you don’t crack– Chris always does well at only showing you the version of himself he wants you to see, and you will too. You won’t give him your meek looks or timid declarations of desire for more of his touch– he’ll only see a new you; a confident you who knows exactly what she wants. You’ve learned from the best, after all.
“Well?” you demand when he doesn’t immediately answer, and you watch him swallow, swearing you can see the shiver that spreads down his spine and throughout the rest of his body. “Y-Yeah baby, I meant it. I’d do anything for you,” he tells you, hoping you can’t see how red his face and ears are getting in the low light.
“Prove it– prove you want me, prove you’re good for something,” you say, and again he shivers, breath catching in his throat. “Eat it, make me cum.” Fuck, Chris is reeling– he still can’t even believe it’s really you talking to him this way. His brain feels like a faulty circuit board, all his synapses sparking dangerously as they fire off, ready to ignite his blood and engulf him in an uncontrollable flame of desire.
When you let go of his hair, he wastes no time diving right into your pussy, eating you out like a man starved. He brings his free hand to your ass, squeezes and holds you in place while he shakes his head to get more of you on his tongue, his nose bumping your clit and making your legs quiver.
You bite your lip, doing your best to suppress the loud moan he brings out of you by sucking on your clit. His plush lips wrapped around it, the flicks of his tongue, how expertly he sucks– it’s already so overwhelming, in the best way possible. Chris does his best to sink lower, tries to lick at your hole and get his tongue inside, but it’s hard like this– he’s not sure if he can.
“B-Baby, doll, let me lay you down, in the car, let me–” he pulls away from your dripping center to look up at you, and fuck, he looks ruined in the prettiest way imaginable. His eyes are hazy and pleading, glistening with your arousal from the tip of his nose all the way down to his chin, sweat dripping down his brow. “Need to spread you out, I– please? Gotta taste more of you.” 
Shit, you can’t deny you want it– especially not when he’s begging like this. You nod, and he smiles at you in appreciation, a smile that makes your knees even weaker than they already are. You take your leg off his shoulder, and he quickly rises to his feet, giving you a messy kiss before he ushers you away from the car door to open it for you.
You crawl into the back seat, and he follows, slamming the door shut behind him. He waits until you get comfortable, not acting until you're lying propped against the opposite door of the car. Chris hooks your panties in his fingers, pulls them down your legs and tosses them aside into the footwell; it'll be a sweet treat for him when he finds them again later.
He'll keep them, he thinks– stuff ‘em in his pocket and take them back to his room, where they'll lie safe and protected under his pillow. It's a dirty thought, one that'd otherwise fill his gut with shame, but right now all he feels is need– need for you to cum on his tongue, need to give you everything you want and more.
He settles on his stomach between your legs, and it’s certainly not easy, but he manages well enough. One of your legs ends up over his shoulder again while the other stays spread out with the help of his hand holding you under the knee. And finally, his tongue dips into your hole, and it’s pure bliss– maybe even more so for him than you. He’s hungry, utterly ravenous; all he can think, breath, and taste is you, you, you.
“Chris– your fingers, need your fingers,” you whine more shamelessly than you would've otherwise liked, but you know he enjoys it. He separates from you long enough to run his fingers between your folds, making sure they’re nice and slick for you before he presses them to your hole. 
He slides one finger in first, bringing his mouth back to your clit while you adjust to the feeling. Your legs are already trembling by the time he adds another finger, and when he starts curling his fingers to hit your most sensitive spot while flicking his tongue against your clit you can hardly even breathe– it’s just so, so good.
Your stomach is clenching, thighs and legs shaking hard, your release building up with an intensity you’ve never felt before. “Oh, fuck, Chris–” you cry when he presses the tips of his fingers into your spot harder. You’re certain that if it wasn’t for the fact that you’re still wearing your shoes, your toes would be curling from the pleasure.
Your pussy sounds so sloppy and messy, and Chris himself isn’t making it any better– he’s drooling so much, his saliva drenching you just as much as your own dripping arousal. You’re breathing hard, and even your hands are shaking as they continue to hold up your skirt to watch him devour you.
“Oh my god, ‘m gonna cum, I’m gonna– fuck, gonna cum for you daddy, please don’t stop,” you’re crying loud– and you know you should at least try to be quieter considering how out in the open you are, but you’re too far gone to care. With your head thrown back, you whimper and moan, high pitched and loud, eyes rolling back as your orgasm takes you.
It feels like it’s endless, the waves of pleasure ceaselessly jolting your body as your vision blurs white; and you feel wet; so, so wet. It’s only when you finally come down from the high and lift your head back up from where it thunked against the car door to look at Chris that you realize why you feel so drenched.
It’s not just your thighs that are dampened– it’s your skirt, Chris’ face and shirt, the leather of his seats; all of it is soaked with your cum. Your face starts to burn hot, and you swallow as Chris stares at you, almost bewildered. “Baby– did you just..?” You squirted for him, because of him– he doesn’t even fucking care how much of a nightmare it’s going to be to clean his car, all he can think about is how fucking sexy it is.
You simply nod, because it’s all you can think to do– you really weren’t expecting this to happen. “Oh my god, baby, you have to do it again, please, you have to,” he practically whines, and his enthusiasm over it makes you giggle. You honestly feel more than a little shy about it, but Chris’s apparent elation makes it worth the tinge of embarrassment.
You reach out for him, take the necklace dangling from his neck into your hands and pull, urging him to come closer to you. He crawls up your body, and you kiss him, sliping your tongue into his mouth and tasting yourself all over him. “Fuck, you’re so dirty baby,” he groans when you pull away, “what are we going to do, huh?”
It makes you giggle again, a soft thing full of mischievous delight. He basks in it, giggles with you before he kisses you again. “Need your cock now,” you tell him when he pulls away, and shit, he’d nearly forgotten how fucking hard he is whilst wrapped up in pleasuring you. He can feel it straining against his jeans, desperate for stimulation of its own.
“Yeah? Want my cock baby?” he asks, grinning at you the way he always had before; you tug on his silver chain again in response. “Don’t forget, you’re giving me everything I want. Everything, okay?” you say once his face is mere inches from yours again, making him look you closely in the eyes. Chris swallows as he nods, the smile you offer him once again making his brain feel fuzzy and floaty.
He looks you over once more, really takes it all in before he scrambles over the front seat, reaching for the glove box where he still has some spares from your time together over the summer. Condom in hand, he settles back over you, and you help him with his jeans while he tears the package open. He spreads it quickly down his length, and you take your legs in hand, holding them under your knees to keep yourself open for him. 
The sight of you like that is dizzying– legs open, skirt bunched up all the way to your stomach, pussy wet and glistening, with the hair there matting from how wet you are; you’re perfect. So fucking perfect. He moans as he pushes into you, so slick that you take him with ease. You take his face in one of your hands and pull him down to kiss you, a desperate one that makes pleasure lick over every inch of his skin.
Chris rolls his hips into you slowly to start, while you let go of the leg you're still holding to wrap your limbs around him, keeping him pressed close. He grabs onto the car door, uses it to keep himself steady when he starts to pick up the pace of his hips, harsh breaths and low moans leaving him freely. Neither of you are trying to be quiet, the street lights are burning bright, the hood of his car and the windows are down, anyone could hear you or see you– and the excitement of it all makes the pleasure he feels all the more intense.
“Baby, your tits– let me see ‘em, please, can I see ‘em?” he asks between labored breaths– he needs to see them, has missed them more than is probably allowed. You quickly do as he asks, fumbling with the top few buttons of your blouse to expose yourself to him. You tug down your bra so he can see your breasts bare, and again he groans, bringing his free hand to one of them to brush his thumb over your hardened nipple.
“Oh, you’re so pretty– so, so pretty baby,” he says, groaning when the words make you clench harder around him. It doesn’t take long for the car to start rocking with the motion of his thrusts, his rhythm quickly growing sloppier. He’s been so worked up, and believe it or not, he hasn’t actually fucked anyone since you– he feels so high strung and on edge, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out.
He just hopes he can make you cum again before he does, or at least make you cum with him– he needs you to be happy with him. You can feel his cock twitching and throbbing, you can tell that he’s already impossibly close– so, like the little minx you are, you talk dirty to him, wanting to see him utterly unravel at the seams. “You gonna fill me up, daddy? Make this pussy all yours?”
Chris gasps and shudders, goosebumps erupting all over his impossibly hot skin. He knows he can’t actually– all he’s going to really fill up with his cum is the condom, but fuck, the thought of it is making his head swim. “Y-Yeah, gonna fill you up baby, daddy’s gonna make you so full,” he breathes, and God, that really does it for you.
You bring your fingers to your clit, rubbing in quick, practiced circles. Even through the condom he can feel you gushing and soaking his cock, and it sends him over the edge– as do the sounds of your incredibly pretty whimpers and moans of pleasure. His hips still when he cums, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as his eyes roll back, head thrown back in utmost bliss.
It takes Chris a few moments to recollect himself and catch his breath, and he slowly slips out of you when does. He tucks his softening length back in his jeans before he helps you fix your bra, and smoothes your skirt out over your legs while you button your blouse back up. “You feeling okay, baby?” he asks, wiping messy strands of hair out of your face.
You’re both covered in a sheen of sweat, faces flushed and hot, hair utterly a mess– it’s obvious, even with your clothes fixed up, what you’ve been doing. “Mhm, are you?” you ask, and he smiles, giving you a quick peck on the lips. “I’m peachy keen, jelly bean,” he replies and you giggle, kissing him once more.
He looks at himself in his rearview mirror when he pulls away, does his best to fix his messy hair while you lift yourself up from your propped position and stretch out your aching limbs. He then takes another glance around the parking lot, and notes that you’re still the only ones here– thank God. He was too enraptured by you to check earlier, and he’s grateful that no one else has showed up.
“Should probably get you home now, yeah?” Chris asks, looking at the clock on his dashboard and noticing it’s now getting dangerously close to your 10 o’clock curfew. He helps you get into the passenger seat when you nod, and you smile at him when he settles in beside you. He turns the key in the ignition, one hand resting on your thigh while the other stays on the wheel, and he drives you home.
Chris parks up the street, like he did all those times at your aunt’s beach house. He watches you walk over to your house, and he smiles when you turn around to blow him a kiss. At 11 he leaves his car, walks up the street to your home, and approaches the only window with a light still on– the window to your new bedroom. And you smile as you open it for him, letting him crawl his way inside.
He sees the teddy bear he won you at the fair sitting right in the middle of your bed, nestled against your pillows, and he smiles, delighted that you still kept it even after he broke your heart. “I love you, baby,” he tells you in a whisper after a sweet kiss, “never gonna hurt you again, I promise.”
“You better keep that promise, mister. Or I might just have to make you jealous again,” you warn and tease him with a cheeky little smile. He strips out of his jeans and tee shirt as you turn off your lamp, lies down beside you after you settle into your bed, runs his hand up and down your back as you press yourself against him. Head on his chest, with your arm and leg tossed over him, he kisses your head and smiles once more– because as he promised, this is just the start of a lifetime.
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network tags: @ksmutsociety @skzstarnet
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deunmiu-dessie · 7 months ago
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(unedited) simon's punishment [connected with this!]
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“congratulations on your beautiful baby girl.”
simon's gaze remains fixed on the swaddled, wriggling pink bundle held by the nurse, until his focus shifts to your motionless form lying amidst a sea of medical professionals. your stillness is haunting, your body devoid of life as you lay in the hospital bed, with sweat-soaked hair clinging to your forehead and parched lips cracked and dry.
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he wonders briefly if this was some sort of punishment, karma for thinking he could have a dash of normalcy after a life of killing. he couldn't breathe, couldn’t move, he could hardly think or process what was happening. this wasn't real, it couldn't be; you were just sleeping— tired from pushing out an infant for hours on end. but the monotonous sound of the heart monitor flat-lining, tells a different story. gone, you were gone. what now? where are you?
“sir?”
simon jolts and pans his gaze to face the nurse who still holds his child. she softly thrusts the newborn in his direction, countenance grim- and it ages her young, round face even more than it already was from working at a hospital. simon had hardly looked at the child since she’d been born, couldn't bring himself to— not while you were laying there, dead. it was his fault.
eyebrows furrowing and moving robotically, simon lets the nurse position his arms properly before she places the wailing baby into them; the infant quiets almost immediately. in that moment, simon's world narrows down to just two things - the fragile bundle of life in his arms, and the lifeless figure lying before him. the contrast between the beginning and the end, the hope and the despair, is almost too much to bear.
he reluctantly flits his eyes down to finally catch a glimpse of the newborn, and as his gaze lands on the tiny face, an overwhelming wave of sorrow engulfs him as he weeps, witnessing the uncanny resemblance the baby bears to you.
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i cried writing this one.😓
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fishnapple · 12 days ago
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How they comfort you, their love languages
(Future spouse/partner/lover)
This is a mini reading about the things that your partner/spouse would do or say to comfort you.
This is a general reading meant for multiple people. Take only what resonates and leave out the rest.
Your feedback is much appreciated. If you find the reading resonated with you, leave a comment, I’d love to know 🎐
About me | Masterpost
Book a reading with me - KO-FI (→ personal reading)
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CUBE 1
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"Our life together is the most important thing"
"You're alive, I'm alive and that's good"
Tickle
Clumsy jokes that make your belly hurt
"Let's go to the beach"
"Whatever you do, I'm right beside you"
"Don't worry"
"Don't be afraid to fall, I will catch you"
"I'm your biggest fan"
Silent understanding
Scary movies that make you jump into their arms
Passionate, emotional sex
The warmth of their body
Holding you in the dark
Holding your hands whenever you go out together
Warm breads and fresh flowers
Board games
Forehead kiss
"Let's run away"
"I will find you again even when you've become a star on the heavenly sky"
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CUBE 2
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Surprise gifts, this person could spoil you a lot with material gifts
"I will get it for you"
They would do many things to make your life easier without you knowing: take care of your routines, pack your lunch, iron your clothes, etc
Change the colour of the curtains and bed sheets to cheer you up,
Date nights
Take you to see the sunset, to somewhere dark and windy, surrounded by nature
"No problem "
"Let's me take care of it"
They comfort you in your dreams
Intuitively guess your thoughts
Whisper loving words when you are in public places
Be with you through every social events
"My greatest achievement is to be their partner"
Boast about you everywhere they go
"I command you to love me", then proceed to massage your feet
Holding you silently while you spill out your darkest secrets
Direct in displaying their desire for you
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CUBE 3
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Act all tough and intimidating with other people but become a mushy romantic when they're with you, especially in private
Never fail to notice and compliment your effort at taking care and beautifying yourself
Getting heart eyes both when seeing you in leisurewear and in glamorous clothes
Try to sing for you even if they hate singing or not good at it
Love poems
When they find it hard to express their feelings through words, they express through material gifts and sensory pleasures instead
Just buying you stuffs and pretend to not know about it or act oblivious and nonchalant
Wrap you in softest blanket
"Let's go into the bathtub together"
Drying your hair
Take lots of pictures, of you alone, of you guys together, of your memories
"You're my best friend, let's me be your best friend"
"I love you "
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CUBE 4
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"I've loved you before and I will love you again"
"See you in our next life together "
Appear right when you need them
Act more confident and tough
The heat of their body
Pull you into them
"Lean on me"
Witty jokes
Irrelevant stories to distract you from whatever negative feelings you're having
Hand holding
Lots of notes
Phone calls throughout the day
Try to talk in the softest voice when they're with you
"Let's play video game"
"Let's me draw your silly face"
"Let's take a day off and go to where nobody knows us"
The meadows, the sea, the mountains
Take your pleasure as their top priority
Love making
"I'm afraid that this is all a dream, but as I go to sleep and wake up everyday, you're still there"
"Your pain is my pain "
Warn anyone dares to come in between you two
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CUBE 5
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"Nothing can stand between us"
"We can go anywhere we want"
"I believe in us"
"Hey, teach me how to do this"
Make plan for both of you
"Let's me read Tarot for you"
Always on time
Keep their promises, from smallest one to biggest one
Cakes and sweets
Warmth food
Hype you up
Eager to hear you talk
Patience
Try to be silly just to cheer you up even though they seem to be a pretty serious person
Laughter
Refer to you as "my love" when talking with other people
PDA
"I think I'd done good deeds in my past lives, that's why I met you"
Looking deep into your eyes
"I believe this relationship has changed us for the better"
Ride of die
"Till death do us apart "
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CUBE 6
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"You were alone, but now you have me"
Act childish and cute to get your attention
Also love it when you do the same to them
"Let's get married "/ "Let's get married every year"
Tell you about their childhood nightmares and how embarrassing they were
"I was told to wait for you when I was a kid"
Has no shame in acting embarrassing or silly just to make you laugh, even in public
"Do you want to date me" (even when you guys have been married for a long time)
Handmade gifts
Corny pickup lines
Genius at solving problems
Try to get you to debate about odd topics
Looking intimidating and professional in public but don't care about people's opinions, especially about you and your relationship
Will defend you in any conflicts
Take your side unconditionally
Willing to share everything with you
Honesty
Think of a new way to affirm their love everyday
"We make a great team"
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mcumorningstar · 6 months ago
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Prove It, Cowboy
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pairing: dodge mason x reader
summary: after the player's ball, you find yourself without a bed for the night until dodge offers for you to stay at his, but when his mom and sister catch you sneaking in they get the wrong impression.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, dry humping, protected sex (p in v), dodge’s mom and sister being kinda invasive about his sex life (?)
a/n: dodge and his mom being so open about her sex life was so funny to me. this is kinda the reverse of a canon conversation... kinda! also i had a dream i went to one of dodge’s rodeos but he was flirting with all the girls so he was my enemy for a few days <3
A midnight sky hung over Carp, Texas when you arrived at Dodge’s house. Dodge put a finger to his lips fruitlessly as the front gate creaked loudly. The curtains of the front room twitched.
A female voice came from inside the house, “Dodge’s brought a girl home!”
Shit.
“That’s Dana,” Dodge sighed, fiddling with his keys and rubbing his forehead with a tight smile. Before he turned the keys in the lock, he turned to you, “Sorry, in advance.”
Your brows screwed together as he guided you inside.
After the player’s ball, Heather disappeared and so you were left without a bed for the night. God forbid you sneak into your own house and face the wrath of your parents.
Dodge came to the rescue.
A sigh fell from his lips at the sight of his mom and sister waiting in the living room doorway with excited smiles and hooded eyes. They behaved more like sisters than mother and daughter. It was sweet.
A dim lamp on the entrance table and the bright colours of the TV cast shadows across the room.
“Hi, I’m Y/N,” You smiled politely despite two pairs of unfamiliar eyes trained on you.
God they must think you’re here to sleep with him or something.
“Hi, sweetheart. I’m Jessica. You want something to drink?” Dodge’s mom raised her glass of red wine, “We’re watching Jeopardy.“
She was a very beautiful woman, cherub cheeks and bright green eyes. Dodge was all hard angles, he must take after his dad.
Dodge ducked into the sea-foam coloured kitchen to grab two waters from the refrigerator.
“I’m Dana!” His sister beamed. She shared an unspoken look with Dodge, who rolled his eyes. Before you could thank her, Dodge rejoined your side.
“She’s locked out and just wants somewhere to sleep,” He quelled their unspoken barrage of questions.
His mom nodded along, as if he was lying, “Okay well there’s spare blankets in the laundry room, condoms in the bathroom...”
“Oh my god,” Dodge cursed under his breath, “We’re going now.”
Jessica and Dana giggled behind their glasses of wine, the right side of drunk, “The book, Dodge.”
She winked with exaggeration, her filter totally gone with the amount she’d drank but she was clearly having a fun night in.
Dodge shook his head with a flustered laugh.
With a hand on your back, Dodge guided you to his bedroom. Your face flushed at the unexpected attention and the suggestive situation.
The two laughed rather loudly, saying how pretty you are and how Dodge will fair with a girl spending the night, for the first time you assumed.
The sound of the women stifling laughter echoed around the house. Dodge closed his bedroom door with a sheepish and apologetic smile.
His room was pretty plain; grey bedsheets, grey walls, rodeo trophies and medals, a bookshelf with framed photos on. It smelt like laundry soap and his cologne.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” He offered, tossing his backpack onto the carpet.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t bite,” You teased, as you looked at his collection of trophies and books, “Plus they already think we’re fucking.”
Dodge gave a quick laugh, watching you read the spines on the shelf.
“What book was your mom talking about?” You turned to him and his face flushed.
“You heard that, huh?” He mumbled, “It was a joke really. She thinks she’s funny.”
Even more intrigued by his avoidance, you sized him up with squinted eyes.
Dodge cleared his throat, tidying away a pile of laundry sitting on his bed, “They uh… god this is… They used to worry about me with- with girls. They thought I was a virgin because I never brought girls home to meet them or anything… and so for Secret Santa one year I got a book about… women… My mom insists it wasn’t her and that whoever it was was trying to be funny…”
There was a long pause. Dodge shied away from your eyes, his body turned away from you, despite the little air of embarrassed laughter.
Dodge cleared his throat again, “Super weird, I know. She had kids super young and didn’t want us to make the same mistake. Not that me and Dana are mistakes but it was hard for her. She’s cool about that sorta thing though. Dana’s ex-boyfriend used to stay over all the time and she didn’t care. So if you’re worried, she won’t say anything about you being here or anything.”
Another bout of silence fell between you as Dodge assessed your features, his lips pursed and shoulders tight.
“I think that’s the most you’ve ever said to me,” You laughed and Dodge visibly relaxed.
“No, it’s cool. Not cool but, you know, I wish my family were cooler about sex. My dad saw your name in my phone and reached for his shotgun,” You laughed, “Anyway, a book is probably better than drunk hook ups at the lake.”
“Yeah probably,” Dodge nodded, leaning against the bookshelf, and there was a lull in the conversation.
“Oh… did you read it?” You giggled, a flush of red creeping up his neck and ears, “You did!”
“You can’t prove anything,” Dodge shook his head with a half-cocked smile.
“But you could,” You raised your eyebrows and he furrowed his. It was a joke, he knew that, but Dodge steeled his expression and licked his lips.
“Yeah?”
You kept your eyes on his for a long moment before smiling, “Yeah. Prove it.”
You reached out and rested a hand on his stomach. His abs were tight and lean under his button-up shirt.
One by one, you unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, running your hands along the sturdy plane of his stomach and chest.
Conflicting thoughts ran through your head. Heather was like your sister and Natalie had been planning to win Panic for years.
Would fucking Dodge Mason, their competition, be a good idea?
Your judgement was clouded by the heat radiating from his skin and the smattering of hair on his chest. His dual coloured eyes watched your face as you stood before him, admiring him.
“I saw you like this at the jump but not up close,” You rested your hands on his shoulders, biting your lip, “Thank you, saddle bronc.”
Dodge couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his cheeks, as a sputtered laugh escaped his lips.
In one movement, Dodge threw you over his shoulder and deposited you on his bed, kneeling over you.
A soft line of kisses traced along your arm to your shoulder. With every press of his lips, you itched to feel them against yours, whining at the wait.
Pink and plump, his lips pressed to the corner of your mouth before he pulled back to look down at you, stilling hovering over you.
Taking his head in your hands, you craned your neck to kiss him. Each press of his lips had you sighing contently and the swipe of his tongue had you moaning.
Dodge licked into your mouth with fervour, tongue and lips colliding with no precision, only desire.
You hooked your leg over his hips and rolled him onto his back beneath you, straddling his hips.
Dodge instinctively gripped your hips and watched with kiss-bitten lips and doe eyes as you discarded your dress onto his bedroom floor.
“You gonna give me some tips, cowboy?”
Dodge groaned, your hands pressing against his chest, as he slowly guided the rocking of your hips against his.
With every roll of your hips, your tits bounced in the lacy cups of your bra. His eyes flickered between your chest and your pink panties, rubbing against his bulge.
Dodge groaned, tightening his grip on your hips, “Lean forward.”
Following his instructions, a loud moan escaped you at the change in pressure against your clit.
“Good girl, you’re doing so good,” He rumbled, rutting his hips against yours in a perfect rhythm. Warmth bloomed in your chest at his praise.
Thank you, saddle bronc.
His muscles rippled and bulged underneath your hands as the slick between your legs dampened the skin of your inner thighs.
Cupping a hand at the nape of your neck, Dodge guided your mouth to his, kissing you with pinched brows and deep groans. Pulling away from the heated make out and pressing a deep kiss to his lips, you sat up and unbuttoned his jeans.
Dodge lay back, stroking your thighs and watching you with bated breath. Pulling him from his trance, you hooked a finger into the elastic waistband of his boxers, twanging the material against his alabaster skin.
A smile twitched at his lips as he slowly sat up and kissed you softly, rolling you onto your back. Dodge pushed his jeans off and lay between your legs, the hard length of his cock pressing into your inner thigh.
Settling your hands on each other's heated skin, Dodge kissed you deeply and nipped at your bottom lip playfully. His strong arms wrapped around you, his hand palming at the globe of your ass.
Warm and plump lips mouthed at your neck, teeth tugging the strap of your bra from your shoulder and kissing at the newly bare skin. He unhooked your bra, tossing it onto the floor and laving his tongue at your pebbled nipples.
"Please, need you," You whined, clawing at his shoulders. Dodge pressed a final kiss to your chest before sitting on his haunches and pulling your panties down your legs.
With firm hands on your inner thighs, Dodge parted your legs and bit his lip, staring at your dripping sex. You squirmed under his undivided attention, hooking your calf around his waist and pulling him on top of you.
Kissing him deeply, you pushed his boxer briefs down his hips, dragging your nails across his back once his erection sprung free. The wet tip smacked against your heated skin.
Dodge kicked his boxers off and reached into his nightstand, tearing the foil of a condom wrapper with his teeth and rolling the rubber onto his cock.
Caressing his biceps, you watched as he hovered over you and lined himself against your entrance. You hooked a leg around his hip, gasping into his open mouth as he slowly thrust into you.
Dodge's eyes fluttered shut as his hips pressed flush against yours. A ragged breath escaped his lips, tickling the skin of your neck. Dropping his head to your shoulder, Dodge sighed shakily.
"C'mon cowboy," You rolled your hips, "Buck."
Dodge let out a mix of a soft groan and a laugh into your neck, "You feel really good."
A small giggle fell from you, scratching your fingers through his hair. You bucked your hips again and Dodge clamped a hand on your hip, pulling back and rolling his hips against you.
Picking up the pace, Dodge fucked his thick cock against the sensitive spot deep within your cunt. Sloppy wet sounds echoed around the room with each buck of his hips.
Sweat beaded on your skin as the coil within the pit of your stomach tightened. Your nails clawed at the rippling muscles of Dodge's back, his skin slapping against yours.
Groans tumbled from his lips, pressing heated kisses to your skin, silencing your loud moans with his tongue in your mouth.
Digging your heels into his ass, you tightened your legs around his hips, letting him push one against your chest and his cock sinked deeper into you.
A broken gasp escaped you before his hand clamped over your mouth and his hips stopped, pressing his weight onto you.
The sound of footsteps outside his door and the subsequent flicking of light switches and closing doors alerted Dodge to the presence of his mom going to bed.
Dodge met your eyes, willing you to be quiet, as he continued to fuck you. Your brows pinched together as your interrupted pleasure began to build again, noises muffled by his strong hand.
Pressing his forehead to yours, Dodge slowed his pace and you took the opportunity to turn him onto his back, keeping his cock nestled in your cunt.
A surprised grunt tumbled from his chest and his hands groped at your body, holding you against him. You wasted no time before raising your hips and bouncing on his cock.
Dodge moaned and his eyes rolled back, covering his own mouth. A sheen of sweat on his skin glistened in the limited light. Leaning forward, your clit caught against his pubes, igniting a hotter flame within you.
"Good," Dodge praised, brushing your hair out of your face and watching your tits bounce in his face, "Such a good cowgirl."
He tipped his head back further into his plush pillow and his knees bent off the bed, fucking into you, his body pulling taut at the impending release.
"Gonna cum," Dodge rasped, panting and licking his dry lips.
You couldn't form words, only nodding, meeting his eyes and rocking your hips with the uncoordinated buck of his. The band within you was one thread away from snapping before Dodge gripped your jaw and pulled you into a heated kiss.
White hot bliss coursed through your body as you moaned into his mouth. Dodge mouthed at your unresponsive mouth, too preoccupied with moans of pleasure to reciprocate his kisses.
Dodge pulled back to watch your orgasm wash over you before he hit his peak, white ropes of cum filling the condom as he groaned deeply.
Sinking into the mattress, you lay on his sweaty chest, both trying to catch your breath. Dodge discarded the condom in the trash by his bed and pulled you into his side.
His cheeks and neck were rosy with exertion and he ran a hand up and down your back, "You should try saddle bronc."
Fucked out, you laughed into his sweaty chest, "You should keep that book."
Slowly you drifted into a blissful sleep, bodies entwined and satiated.
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followmybadreligion · 7 months ago
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Thinking about bf!art who’s so obsessed with you that it borders unhealthy…
You’re the first thing on his mind in the morning; what do you want for breakfast, is that position you’re sleeping in comfortable, are you going to kiss him good morning or just say the words— all questions he sifts through. He doesn’t even have time to wipe the sleep out of his eyes before you consume his thoughts.
Most of the time, he sits on his side of the bed and gazes at your serene figure glowing softly in the early morning light. He hates to disturb you, knowing how upset you usually are when he does, but seeing you like that never fails to awaken an almost desperate need for you within him. He’ll fight it off for as long as possible, but as you release a deep sigh and shift your head his way, showcasing that pretty fucking face, he just can’t help it. So, in the blink of an eye, he’s pressed his body against you, one arm underneath your torso and the other on top of it, caging you in his warmth. He’ll lay there like that with you, matching your rhymic breathing like it were the beat to his favorite song, until you wake for the day, ready and willing to give him all your love.
And boy is he demanding of your love.
Art's like a battery of sorts when it comes to affection. When you've given him enough, charged him with your kisses, affirmations, or whatever else you were willing to give, he's at his best and brightest, going through the world with a big, lopsided grin and tingles in his chest. This is where he likes to be--- full of your love. However, if he feels as if he hasn't gotten his fair share, and starts feeling a little neglected or ignored, be prepared for a completely different boyfriend.
He'll show his discontent in small ways at first-- way more touching, little whines and grumbles when you're focused on something else, pointless reminiscing just to get you to talk-- all ways of him trying to scratch his itch for your attention. But if all that fails, and you're still not giving him what he wants, he gets more and more demanding. You were working on an important work project? Guess who just shut your computer! You were in the middle of a phone call? Guess who has the overwhelming urge to kiss you now! You were on the way to meet up with a friend? Guess who's not letting you out of the house (at least without a fight)? He just can't help it. When it comes to you and your love, he needs all of it and then some.
But, he's also incredibly aware of how smothering he can be sometimes. It's one of the things he's most insecure about in your relationship, actually.
To him, his want for you never runs dry. He could sit in an empty room, with nothing but you to entertain him, and he'd feel as if he'd just sailed the seven seas. So why don't you feel the same? Why do you constantly seem to push for space? Why don't you want all the love he has for you?
He'll rarely ever bring that insecurity up, though. To him, it's pointless-- you can't make yourself want more of what you already have. Instead, he'll just try to find new ways to present it to you.
Naturally, he likes to show his love through his money and his time.
In the beginning, you had to get used to his on-a-whim, thousand-dollar restaurant dates or his random weekend vacations for the two of you. You had to learn how to accept the designer clothes he bought you, or the big bouquets of roses he sent to your house and your job. You had to learn to lean into having a man who was willing to drop any plans he had the second you called him.
And it was a lot.
Sometimes too much, and Art started to pick up on that.
So he adjusted.
Instead of buying you lavish gifts and taking you fancy places all the time, he started to cut back to maybe once or twice a month (still insane but he's trying). He planned smaller, quieter dates for the two of you, like cooking dinner or baking together, or trying new desert shops around the city, and can you tell this boy really likes to feed you? He began to focus his efforts on being more helpful to you, as well. Need him to pick up some dry cleaning? Done. Sick of washing dishes? He's got it covered. Forgot to order groceries for the week? He's already made a list. Any and everything he could do to make life stress-free for you, he'd do.
And then don't even get me started on the sex.
Art is absolutely drunk on you. Your body, your scent, your voice-- all of it.
Before you two were together, Art was ashamed of the way he lusted after you. It made him feel perverted and dirty sometimes, the way he’d be practically drooling at the slightest glimpse of your shape. He was always the first to view your Instagram stories, (because he had your page notifications on) and at first he told himself that he was just eager to see your cute little selfies or your adorable little fit checks. The amount of cleavage you displayed was just a plus! But soon after, he found himself fiendish over the detail pictures you’d post, showcasing your tight-fitting shirts, or the necklaces that dangled just above your tits, or the low-waisted jeans that curved artfully around your ass. The way you presented yourself was just so enticing to him. A little at a time, just a glimpse per picture. Enough to let his imagination run wild, but not enough to fulfill his fantasies.
So you can imagine that from the time Art got his first fill of you and then on, he was in heaven. You were better than every fantasy, dream, thought- everything he’d ever dreamt up. The second you pulled off his shirt and told him to lay back, that you’d give him what he needed, he was a lovesick puppy under your care, and he loved that. He swore with every command you gave or moan you drew from him, he was falling deeper into you.
However, this also ignited a new passion in him. He had to be the best, just as he felt you were. Had to be good for you, or else what was his purpose?
So, he spent hours and hours studying the porn you watched, trying so desperately to mimic the strokes and moans of the men you got off to. He studied the positions you liked and even did a little research on his own to know which ones would feel the best for you. He wanted to make you throw your head back in bliss, moan uncontrollably, and glow from how good you felt, time and time again, and he was determined to do what it took to make that happen. He'd do it all and then some, and all he needed to hear was you saying his name.
Oh, and speaking of saying his name, that's one of his biggest turn-ons. He likes to say there's a certain tone you use, intentionally or not, that mimics the sultriness of a siren, and he can't stop himself from getting hard every time he hears it. Maybe it's the tone itself, or the fact that you're calling him in the first place, but he can't help the way his mind gets all fuzzy from it, only focusing on your voice and the way your lips move to say the syllable.
There’s nobody else on the planet that has ever, or will ever make Art feel the way you do. You make his body feel ways it never has, make his heart light up with feelings he didn’t know existed. In such a short span of time, you’ve become his everything, and that’s why he’s determined to keep you as his for as long as he can.
As long as he can. As long as you let him. Because he’ll be only yours for forever and ever.
Your sweet, lovesick bf!art.
part 2
A/N: this was just a massive brain dump for art since he’s been on my mind since i watched the movie LOL. want him SO BADDDDD
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syluslnd · 3 months ago
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can I request for sylus with a sleepy MC? like he doesn't have to worry about anything (her cheating, doing dangerous stuff, take too long to reply) because he always found her asleep most of the time.
when you’re always sleeping
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Sylus stood outside your door, arms crossed and brow furrowed. It had been hours since your last message, and you weren’t answering his calls.
His first thought, naturally, was that something had gone wrong. He’d considered that maybe you were just out or busy, but knowing you, the more likely scenario was… you were asleep.
Still, he wasn’t one to take chances.
Without hesitation, he bypassed the lock and stepped inside your apartment, his sharp eyes scanning the room. It was eerily quiet, the only sound coming from the ticking of a clock on the wall. His suspicions deepened and he strode through the rooms until he reached your bedroom.
There you were, wrapped up in a sea of blankets, your hair a mess on the pillow and face soft in slumber. The sight was so innocent, so completely at odds with the chaos in his head, that he couldn’t help but let out a dry chuckle.
“Sweetie, really? You’ve been out cold all this time?” he muttered, though there was no anger in his voice. He stepped closer, crouching beside your bed.
You shifted slightly but didn’t wake, only mumbling incoherently as you clutched the pillow tighter. Sylus just watched you, amused and relieved, the tension melting from his frame.
“You’ve got me out here breaking into your place, worried sick, and all because you’re busy napping?” His tone was sarcastic but his gaze softened as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “Guess I don’t need to worry about you running off or getting into trouble when you’re like this.”
He sighed, leaning back on his heels, his lips curling into a slight smile. “Kitten, you’re hopeless.”
With a quiet shake of his head, Sylus pulled a chair up beside your bed and settled in, watching you sleep with a strange mix of fondness and exasperation. For someone who lived in such a dangerous world, you managed to stay completely oblivious, wrapped up in your own little cocoon of peace.
Eventually, he leaned back, arms crossed again, but this time more relaxed. “Well, I guess it’s not the worst problem to have. At least I know where you are… in bed, as usual.”
He stayed there, content to let you sleep, finding a strange comfort in the fact that you were safe and sound—doing exactly what you always did.
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vividxpages · 5 months ago
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°‧⋆.࿔*:・ ocean-touched, sun-kissed・: * ࿔. ⋆‧°
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pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x fem!Reader
words: 5400
summary: Jacaerys and you are on vacation with his family. A shared shower before dinner is tempting you to indulge in your constant hunger for each other.
warnings: modern au, established relationship, domestic fluff, vacation bliss, making out, sexual content, oral (f receiving), gentle smut
a/n: this can be read as a standalone, but the story takes place after “no parents, big house”.
Thank you for the love this little story has been getting, it means a lot to me! <3    
       
-⋆ ˚。⋆୨🐚🌊🍹୧⋆ ˚。⋆
In this summer, you started to believe you were meant to be loved under the sun, surrounded by the perfect blue of the sea and your love, Jacaerys.
Jace and you had been inseparable for the past few days, insufferable with how clingy and happy you were in each other’s presence.
Having been invited to join the Targaryen-Strong’s vacation had its many perks.
After a long flight where you mostly had been napping against Jace’s arm, you had found a paradise of sandy beaches and clear blue sea waiting for you.
You were sharing a master bedroom like his parents did - a luxury compared to his twin size bed back at home, although you were always gravitating towards each other anyways.
So far, you had woken up every morning and gone to sleep together every night, the sunny meantime filled with laughter and kisses that tasted like the cocktails you drank, endless dinners by the ocean and late-night talks in the dark. You went on walks by the ocean, collecting seashells and little stones that matched each other’s eye color, him always taking pictures with his polaroid camera of you. And you of him, determined to keep every single one forever.
You had sat on his shoulders while battling his siblings in a fierce water war. You had swayed together in the privacy of your room, your lips trying to seek out and kiss every little freckle of his that the sun brought out. And you had spent time with his family, going snorkeling and shopping in the local small town, selecting friendship bracelets for each other.
It was a good summer.
The day was sluggishly drifting along, the high temperature making it impossible to be productive. Jace and you had gotten some light lunch at the beach club near the holiday home and taken a quick dip into the ocean before walking back to nap by your own private pool.
Now, you were laying together on a big lounge bed by the pool, naked legs tangled together, his sun-kissed skin warm against yours. Both of your swimwear was still drying from earlier and you sighed happily as you laid with your head on his chest, one of his arms slung around you while the other rested on your waist. To your feet waited your open book and a plate of half-eaten watermelon you had shared before falling asleep.
It was adorable how sleepy Jace could get after a good snack, the butterflies in your stomach doing an extra round as your eyes fluttered open and you watched him sleep. His dark curls were slicked back, a little frizzy from the sea salt and your hand ached to run your fingers through them. Jace looked angelic underneath the sun umbrella, his relaxed face so close to yours, you could feel his even huffs of air against your cheek and count the freckles on his nose.
You quietly smiled to yourself.
You were happy, young and in love with the most beautiful and kind boy you knew and you were granted two full weeks by his side underneath the warm summer sun by the sea. Everything was perfect until you suddenly heard the sharp whispers of his younger brothers drawing near.
They were arguing with each other, excitement and mischief in their voices and as you sleepily blinked at them over your shoulder, they froze, caught in the act.
“We thought you were sleeping.” Joffrey whispered, not even hiding his disappointment.
“You have to be quieter than that to not wake me.” You whispered back and his shoulders slumped, the twins still giggling with each other behind him. On the other side of the pool, Luke was snoring on his own sunchair, his ears covered by headphones.
Joffrey gestured to the sand bucket in his hands, the water in it splashing a little onto the hot stone floor. “We found a jellyfish and wanted to give it to Jace, to prank him.”
A smile tugged at the corners of your lips and you put your sunglasses back on, slowly and carefully slipping out of Jace’s embrace. He made a small noise in his sleep, his subconsciousness not happy over your familiar warmth vanishing, but yet letting him continue to nap.
You tiptoed to his younger brothers, taking the small bucket from their hands and glimpsing into it. You raised a finger to your lips and slowly walked back to your napping spot, silently setting the bucket down in front of Jace’s face.
The twins behind your back gasped in excitement and you grinned, brushing back your boyfriend’s stray curls, softly talking to him. “Jacey…time to wake up, my love…”
He stirred, a croaky groan getting stuck in his throat as he furrowed his brows and opened his pretty eyes. Jacaerys found himself face to face with a big gooey jellyfish and the sight of you and his brothers laughing as you saw his confused face. He shuffled backwards, pushing the bucket away.
Your eyes met and you could tell you might’ve made a grievous mistake, having conspired against him like this.
“They made me do it!” You grinned, harmlessly raising your arms in defense as he fixated you with a dark stare, an idea coming up in his mind. Directed to his brothers, you said: “Alright now, get this poor thing back in the ocean where it belongs before your parents see, come on.”
Jace sat up, stretching his limbs, his eyes darkening playfully. “You know I would’ve expected such a joke from my little brothers, but you, my love? I’m deeply wounded.”
He slowly rose from your napping spot and you took a step backwards on the warm stone plates, the sparkling mischief in his eyes making you giggle nervously. When Jacaerys looked at you like this, nothing good could follow…
“I think…” He took a sudden step into your direction and a funny feeling shot through your stomach at his predatory stare. “I might have to get revenge for that…”
Joffrey and the twins burst apart with a collective sneak, quickly retreating as he lunged for you. You let out a screech, heedlessly running around the pool’s edge as he chased you around it. You heard his laughter echo across the Mediterranean walls, the laughter of a man who knew he had already won and before you could outrun him, he snatched you by the waist-
“Jacaerys-!”
- and jumped into the pool with you.
Water crashed together over your heads and you clung to Jace’s body underneath it, weightless and trusting. He found you quickly, holding you against him as you came up, sputtering and laughing at the cool shock of the pool’s water.
He shook out his wet hair and you squealed.
“You could’ve warned me!” You splashed some water at him, but he only held you tighter and laughed with you, walking you backwards in the refreshing deep. Your legs found their way around his waist on their own, hugging him close to you like a koala baby would.
“I could say the same thing.” He shot back, his hand caressing your bum and supporting you, and then you were getting kissed against the wall of the pool. His free hand softly held the back of your head, making sure you weren’t hitting the hard stone as he ravished your mouth, him tasting like sugar and watermelon on your tongue.
Cool water drops coated your lips as you lazily slung your arms around his neck, gasping quietly as his tongue slipped into your mouth.
“Eww, stop it, you’re going to drown!” Joffrey screamed at you from the pool’s edge. “Mooom!”
Jace and you broke apart, laughing with each other as you hid your face in his neck, playing with his wet hair and relishing your closeness underneath the water surface.
“We’re fine, Joff.” Jace told his brother, nuzzling your neck one last time before you looked up and spotted his mother.
Rhaenyra stood on one of the balconies, fondly looking down on her sons. “We are all going to a restaurant tonight. Be ready in two hours and for the love of the gods, someone please push Luke’s chair out of the sun.”
You pressed one final cool kiss to the tip of Jace’s nose before he walked you two over to the shallow end, gently setting you down on your feet again. You walked out of the pool together, him holding your hand so you wouldn’t slip and draping your fluffy beach towel around your shoulders.
You both looked at each other through the wet strands of your hair.
Jace stroked the side of your waist, collecting your book and his bag. “Want to go take a shower?”
You could never say no to a suggestion like that.
When you entered yours and Jace’s bedroom, the playful atmosphere by the pool had shifted into something heavy, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine, your mind having been tricked into believing there was going to be more after a heated kiss like that.
The glowing afternoon sun painted your room golden and Jace’s eyes were shining like liquid amber as they rested on you, draping the towel around you over the chair in the corner. You turned to him, suddenly very aware of your dripping wet bikini, a particular nice pair you owned that Jace loved to take off of you whenever he could.
“Do you want to go shower first?” You asked him innocently.
He brushed his hair back with both hands, his muscled arms on full display for you. You swallowed. When had it gotten this hot in the room?
He shrugged; eyes sparkling. “I thought we could save some water and go together?.” His swimming shorts were steadily dripping onto the floor, but neither of you cared.
“Such a brilliant idea.” You breathed, reaching behind your back to unclasp your bikini top.
But as if he couldn’t have that, Jace was there, leading you to the big mirror next to your bed, a beautiful detail to the room you had already been using to your advantage every night…
Your breath faltered as he stepped behind you, letting you look at yourself as he brushed your wet hair over your shoulder, delivering a small kiss to it. His eyes were not leaving yours in the reflection as he skillfully unclasped your top and began to sensually kiss your neck, a small moan escaping you as you tilted your head to the side, becoming putty in his caring hands.
You held your breath, biting your lip in bliss as he slid his warm hands over your form, feather-lightly caressing the side of your breasts before his arms came around you. A sun-kissed embrace. It was getting hard to think clearly as you listened to the sound of his mouth on your jaw and neck, traveling indulgently over your skin and searching for your sweet spots he knew so well.
You did not know how, but somehow you managed to stumble into the bathroom without tripping. You quickly turned around and kissed him like your life depended on it, your bikini top falling carelessly to the floor with a wet sound.
His eyes darkened as he looked up and down your silhouette, the warm light of the bathroom making it seem like you were shimmering for him. And you did, beaming under his attentive gaze, almost forgetting that you came here with the intention to get clean.
You had thought before that Jace’s shower at home was big, but this one was ridiculously enormous. There was enough space for the two of you to comfortably stand in it together, with a little stone bench in the corner and a big rainforest shower head above you. To be clear; the perfect playground for lovers.
Your chest tightened adoringly as you watched him making sure the water was the right temperature before he took your hand and pulled you against him under the spray, your chest pressed against his as he hugged you. You simply held each other for a while as the salt and sand was washed away from your bodies.
Jace and you shared some achingly sweet kisses, your hands exploring each other’s naked and wet bodies, one of his arms always steadily around your waist as your fingers ran up and down his chest, feeling his heart beat wildly underneath your touch.
There was no rush in your actions and yet you made out more fiercely now, the memory of sleeping together yesterday night already fading and needing to be refreshed…
You quietly laughed against his lips as he struggled to push off his wet swim shorts, helping him eagerly to get rid of them before you gently cupped his bulge, a sharp gasp being torn from his throat by your bold move.
He leaned back against the wall, exhaling shakily and his head hitting the tiles with a quiet thud as you began to kiss his neck, your tongue licking over his skin. You distracted him with those deep kisses until your fingertips trailed down his toned stomach and brushed against him, his dick twitching at the small contact.
You smiled against his neck, shushing him sweetly as he whined, your fingers finally wrapping around him and slowly beginning to jerk him off. He bit his lip, but his little moans and whines were stronger, echoing across the shower cell, heat pooling between your legs at his loss of control over himself.
“I’ve been wanting you all day...” You whispered into his ear, your nails scratching lightly over his skull and he gasped as you twisted your wrist around him.
“Please, baby, ah-“ He broke off, shaking his head like he was trying to fight it. You watched every little reaction crossing his pretty face as you continued, varying between slow strokes and gentle twists of your hand, knowing the mix it needed to get him off like you knew yourself.
You leaned closer, breathing heavily yourself, kissing his chest and sucking on the sensitive side of his neck.
But just before he could spill and finish into your hand, Jacaerys grit his teeth, fought off the haze you brought on him and grabbed you, effortlessly hoisting you up and pushing you against the shower tiles.
You let out a surprised gasp, your hands scrambling for his shoulders as he rolled his hips forward and ground his dick against your core, barely covered by the wet bikini you were still wearing.
Jace and you moaned in sync, looking at each other through wide and cloudy eyes.
One of his hands braced itself on the wall behind you and your hand flew up to grasp it as he continued his sweet assault on you, nearly making you forget your own name until it was your turn to beg for him now.
“God, you feel good…” Jace moaned, his head dropping on your shoulder before he captured your mouth with his again. “So lovely, all for me…”
Your original plan to get ready for dinner efficiently was thrown carelessly out of the window, completely forgotten and vanished as hot friction shot through your nerves, making you whimper and hold on tightly to his shoulders.
You clung to him, planning on never letting him go again as he peppered kisses on your skin. His mouth trailed down your collarbone before he sucked one of your breasts into his mouth, his hot tongue swirling around the sensitive bud that ached for him. You almost did not notice how he was walking out of the shower with you in his arms.
Your head was spinning with dizziness, having to blink a few times to see the bathroom disappearing behind you, the steady drip of water trailing along with the two of you.
“Jace, what are you- don’t trip!” You squeaked and clung to him, a hoarse chuckle escaping him as you buried your face in his neck and held on for dear life. One of his hands soothingly stroked your back.
“We’re going to get the bed all wet.” You protested weakly, not able to pretend like you weren’t absolutely thrilled by this side of him, carrying you wherever he wanted like you weighed nothing and deciding he needed you in a bed instead of quickly and rushed in the shower.
Jacaerys let you down gently, placing you among the disheveled sheets you had woken up in this morning. You had slept in long, letting the sunbeams tickle you awake through the window, cuddling without a care in the world and the bed suddenly looked like it now.
The white blankets and pillows welcomed your naked body and you felt like you were resting on a cloud with the way Jace came to kneel over you, breathing heavily with wide pupils, his dark eyes exploring your glistening body silently. You bit your lip, embers swirling in your stomach, feeling the sheets under you turning drenched. Little water drops were raining down from his hair tips, landing on your thigh.
He looked like an angel and your heart nearly beat out of your chest, knowing he was yours.
“The summer sun suits you, my love.” He murmured, lost in your sight underneath him.
He lifted one finger and followed down the tan line of your bikini top, your chest rising and falling faster as his pointy finger reached one of your nipples, lazily drawing circles around the rosy bud.
You let out a tiny grunt as he hummed appreciatively as it got harder underneath his touch, one warm hand splayed on your tummy to feel you squirming.
A loving smile tugged at the corners of his plump lips, the hunger for him achingly flaring up in you. “You look like you’ve been kissed by the sea.”
“I’d rather get kissed by you.” You confessed, gasping when he suddenly bent down and placed an open-mouthed kiss on your stomach, his tongue briefly dipping into your belly button while his lean hands took a hold of your quivering knees.
You watched him, speechless and in awe of your perfect adoring boyfriend and he rested his cheek against your smooth thigh, smiling up to you. “I plan to, don’t worry, love.”
His fingers wandered along the seam of your baby blue bikini bottom, not yet pulling them off. You could feel his breath ghosting over you, mouth falling open from the tiny sensation.
“Is this okay?” His fingers hooked into the sides of your bikini, waiting for you to give him an answer.
“Yes…” You whispered to him, nodding quickly. “More than okay.”
Your hand stroked through his wet curls and a shiver went through his entire body. Like this, he looked like a young prince, dreamy but with fire in his beautiful eyes, focusing only on you. From this angle, you could see his dick throb against his thigh, but the bliss of having you like this seemed to cloud his mind for the moment, making it hard to think.
“Please, Jace.” A whine got stuck in your throat as you wriggled your hips, urging him on to undress you fully. “Kiss me, please, I need you-“
You lifted your hips for him as he slid off the last barrier between the two of you, groaning wantonly when he saw your soaked core, your glistening wetness helplessly leaking into the sheets below you. You clenched around nothing underneath his dark gaze, feeling as if your whole body was on fire and only he could make it better – by adding gasoline to the mix and setting you aflame.
He absently licked his lips, not parting his eyes from your most sensitive parts as he carefully grabbed your legs and spread them, twin kisses pressed to each of your calves as he got comfortable in between them.
He cursed under his breath, flustered and driven by love and lust as he made eye contact with you. “God, you’re so wet for me, baby.”
You hissed when one of his fingers dragged through your folds, spreading your wetness tortuously slowly over your pulsing clit. You squeezed your eyes shut, mouth falling open, hips bucking uncontrollably into his grasp.
If this was his sweet revenge for the jellyfish earlier, you’d make sure to dive into the ocean first thing tomorrow and catch hundreds of them.
Jacaerys slowly began to trace circles on your clit, his fingers achingly soft and slow, exactly how he preferred to get you off. Shuddering little sighs and moans left your lips as he started to kiss your inner thighs and the tightly wound spiral in you drew itself only tighter, ready to snap and send you into sweet oblivion. 
While one hand pampered your clit, alternating between featherlight strokes and slow patterns, the other soothed you with gentle touches, caressing your stomach and your chest, never stopping in just one place and always wandering as if it was the first time he explored your body.
“You are so sweet.” Jace murmured and you lifted your head from the fluffy pillows, whimpering needily when you saw him licking his lips in excitement. He placed one of your legs on his shoulder, shuffling even closer and gritting his teeth when his dick dragged over the sheets.
“Tap my shoulder if you need me to stop.” He told you hoarsely and you threw him a look that said absolutely not, never.
He cocked his eyebrow at you and before you could prepare yourself in any way, he softly blew on you, the cool air meeting your hot flesh and sending lightning through every nerve in your body.
Motivated by your surprised mewl, Jace wasted no time anymore and dove in, moaning as he kissed your folds and spread them apart with his tongue, kissing you like he had in the shower earlier, your sweet scent going right into his brain and making him drunk on you.
He took his time with you, attentively eating you out like you were his favorite meal on earth, relishing the act of being so close to your most intimate part. Your hand found his outstretched one, squeezing it tightly as you whimpered from pleasure, sweat collecting at your brow and legs shaking on his shoulders.
He licked you sensually slowly, sucking your clit into his mouth and releasing it with an obscene sound while his burning gaze stayed on you.
You were losing it.
You could not decide if you wanted to close your eyes and give in to this feeling or keep them open to watch his every move. 
His lips and chin were glistening, covered in you, and you tried to brace yourself on your elbows to look at him, mouth agape and brows scrunched together as Jace continued to worship you. His soft wet curls were a tickling sensation on your inner thighs whenever you tried to clamp them together, but his bony shoulders were there, keeping you perfectly wide open for him.
“Jace.” Your breath hitched, tears prickling in the corners of your eyes. “More, please. Shit-“
A relieved moan tore through you when he slowly pushed one of his long fingers inside you, breathing heavily in sync with you as your warm walls welcomed him, sucking the familiar digit in. You slumped against the pillows as he nestled his face against your thigh, watching as he slowly began to finger you, your pelvis beginning to move too, meeting every little push of his.
One finger soon became two and he crooked them up just as the right time, making your back arch off the mattress, keening highly towards the ceiling. Everything seemed to melt together as he suckled on your clit, the sounds of his finger sliding in and out of you outright dirty. Combined with his muffled groans and whines at your taste on his tongue, you were catapulted towards an inevitable edge, a familiar abyss ready to welcome you home.
“Fuck, you’re so pretty, baby.” He praised huskily and you clenched down on his fingers, crying out as he licked one fat stripe up your core. He was intoxicating and thought the same of you, his own definition of paradise on earth. He never wanted to let your taste leave his mouth. “So sweet for me…I can tell you’re close, aren’t you?”
“So close.” You sighed in agreement, holding on to his shoulders and trying your best to buck forward and match his rhythm. Occasionally, your fingers would find their way into his hair, tugging at the silky strands and he’d moan right into your cunt, the vibrations making your eyes roll back. The water on your skin had been replaced by a thin layer of sweat and he exhaled sharply as you rode his fingers, seeking out the edge of the mountain, the bottom of his endless sea of love for you.
“I love you, love you so much.” He tried to coax it out of you, encouraging you as he peppered kisses on your sweet rosy cunt. “I want to see you come so badly, my love, I need to feel it-”
The intensity of your peak nearly blinded you and you were sure you were ascending up into the air, only grounded to this world by Jace holding and kissing you through your orgasm. He made it even longer, stronger for you, suckling your clit once more as high whines and whimpers left your lips, a tear escaping your shut eyes and being caught by his thumb.
Little shockwaves still danced through you as you watched him with half-lidded eyes, his hand disappearing to grab himself-
You shook your head, tugging him up and against you by his wet chin. You shivered, hugging him close as he exhaled shakingly, your naked bodies rubbing against each other. You needed him close, needed to melt into one with him and you were not letting him touch himself to completion, not when he had you.
“I need to feel you.” You mumbled, a little out of it, tearily blinking at him as he looked at you like you were an angel having been sent to be his.
“Are you sure?” He looked at you searchingly, brushing back your sweaty hair from your forehead. “I don’t want you to be sore later…”
You cupped his cheek, timidly shaking your head. Your next words were barely a whisper. “I just need you, Jace. Please, make love to me.”
Jace let out a croaky sigh, kissing your fingertips as his own fumbled for a condom on the bedside table. Your hand sneaked down his body, giving his weeping dick some merciful strokes before he rolled on the condom and buried his face in your neck, slowly sinking into your welcoming warm heart.
Your boyfriend moaned so prettily at how tightly you squeezed him, it almost was enough to make you come again. 
Jace was utterly overwhelmed, taking a few deep breaths as he let you both adjust to the never tiring sensation of being connected like this. You hummed happily, kissing his temple and stroking his back and he hugged you tightly to him.
He was in heaven as he looked deeply into your eyes, babbling softly how much he loved you and whining when you crossed your legs behind his back and pulled him deeper.
There was no rush in the way you kissed each other, lazily exploring each other’s mouth as he began to move, pulling out the slightest bit before easing forward again, the drag of his dick against your over sensitive walls enough to make you a quivering mess.
“’m not gonna last long…” He confessed, a pretty frown on his forehead, sensually rolling his hips forward as you met him thrust for thrust. “You feel so good, baby, so perfect, all mine…”
“Yours.” You echoed dreamily and then his lips found yours again, feverishly this time and searching, his hips slowly picking up a delicious rhythm, chasing the high he had been suppressing ever since you stood under the showerhead together earlier…
You touched his shoulders, played with his hair as his lashes fluttered, his thrusts losing their pace as he felt it approaching, the storm that was you, ready to sweep him off his feet. A whine tore itself from his throat as you purposefully tightened your muscles around him, one hand buckling under him and flying to your clit where skin slapped against skin and you were still sensitive from your first orgasm.
“Jace-“ You gasped, biting your lip so hard it nearly bled, grinding against him. “Let go, love, I know you’re close, let go for me-“
A dam in Jacaerys broke and with one deep last rock forward, he found his release in you, losing himself entirely in his sweet girl. He groaned long and deep, gasping into the crook of your neck as he slowed his hips, lips ghosting over your skin as he touched you and tried to stop himself from shaking.
You couldn’t help but fall over the edge a second time, your whole body shaken by uncontrollable twitches and imaginary electricity. The two of you clung to each other desperately, riding the high you brought down on one another together until your hips began to slow.
Not ready to let go of each other yet, Jace sighed and rolled down from you, but not without pulling you with him and tucking you safely against him. Humming happily, you draped one leg over his and smiled as he kissed your forehead, your cheek, your jaw.
“You were amazing.” He whispered into the content silence, his eyes full of adoration as he cupped your cheek and kissed your lips. “Was it okay for you? Not…too much?”
You smiled brightly. “It was perfect. I think I saw stars for a moment.”
You giggled as he turned red, hiding his face in your neck, your fingers brushing through his hair. The two of you had dried off by now, only your wet bikini on the floor and his extra curly hair evidence to the shower you had attempted to take.
“I love you.” He breathed, hugging you tightly and stroking your back, lifting you closer with a secure hand on your bum. “I’m so glad you came with me on this trip…”
“Thank you for bringing me…love you too.” You stroked his cheekbone, getting lost in his eyes and the love you shared for each other. He lifted your hand to his mouth and kissed your knuckles, one by one.
Out of the sudden, you frowned and lifted your hand to his neck, fingers brushing over a red spot near his nape. “You got a sunburn, Jace.”
“Oh…” He mumbled, his eyes still closed and happy to just hold you like this for a little while longer. “I’ll live, don’t worry about me.”
“You have to let me apply some of my aloe vera before we go to dinner, okay?” You mumbled back, pressing a small kiss on the burn, making him squirm. “If you start to peel, I’ll sleep elsewhere.”
He let out a displeased tut at that, his strong arms tightening around your waist. “Nu-uh, not letting you…we can just order room service later, who needs a fancy dinner by the beach…”
“I do.” You laughed lightly at his blissed out and carefree smile, softly hitting his chest. “And it would be so rude not to show up. I’ll remind you of your own words later when you overtake yourself at the buffet.”
He hummed considerately, not convinced yet. “I don’t know…staying in bed with you sounds pretty good to me already.”
“We can stay in bed for the whole night.” You argued playfully, knowing exactly how to sell him the deal. “I’m going to wear my sundress later, the one you love so much. Would you want to miss me in it?”
His hand on your hip bone stilled and you giggled victoriously. Got you.
“So…” Jace smiled sheepishly at you, a small blush coloring his freckled cheeks. “Do you want to take a shower then?”
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ad-caelestia · 3 months ago
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places associated with the planets
adapted from the three books of occult philosophy and including my own correspondences for both the inner and outer planets.
moon - barren places, cliffs, and immense rocks, mountains, woods, forests, springs, waters, rivers, the sea, the shore, and ships; dry places.
sun - bright places, serene air, palaces, pulpits, theaters, thrones, and all royal and magnificent places.
mercury - offices, schools, shops, markets, thrift stores, trading places.
venus - beautiful fountains, green meadows, flowery gardens, ornate beds, and brothels; baths, seas, seashores, waterfalls, temperate places.
mars - fires, furnaces, bakeries, provision markets, crosses, battlegrounds, torture chambers, warm places.
jupiter - places of privilege, royal assembly places, tribunals, chairs, gymnasia, schools, fragrant places, places of prosperity.
saturn - churches, graveyards, tombs, crop fields, deserted homes and other buildings, solitary caves, hollows, wells, ponds, swamps, dark and stagnant places.
uranus - airports, public transit, colleges, space center, museums, cold places.
neptune - beach, ocean, reflective pool, boats, house of mirrors, art museum, windy places.
pluto - churches, graveyards, tombs, crossroads, liminal spaces, hospitals, cypress forests, icy places, quiet and still places.
© 2024 ad-caelestia
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Hi. My wife referred me to you for your knowledge and enthusiasm for ecology. If I wanted my fictional fantasy world to have a saltwater river (my world is weird), how could I explain or justify that? Is it even possible, ecologically speaking? Anyway, love your posts and thank you!
I have been considering this with my colleague who is a physical geographer with a passion for riverine geomorphology and she wants to sit down with me and discuss the possibilities more fully. So I may yet update this post with more options.
But, the short answer is yes, there are options to make it possible.
The one we've best fleshed out so far basically comes down to groundwater contamination. Groundwater is contaminated with massive salt input (this would likely need to be anthropogenic - up to you whether that looks like Evil Factory Output, massive magical damage post-war, or any other consideration.) One or more of the river's main tributaries is fed primarily by this groundwater store, so it cannot flush through. Once it meets the sea, it would be brackish around the estuary anyway, but this would mean halophilic species - those tolerant of salt - would be able to spread backwards back up the river channel. Depending on what you want, for plants this could mean cordgrasses (saltmarsh formers), seagrasses along the riverbed in slower areas, or potentially long, linear stands of mangrove forest; in all of those cases, it's much more likely on a slower river than a faster one.
Now, a salt river will be far more erosional than a fresh one, so the river banks and bed would be eroding more. This means higher quantities of suspended sediment in the water, so the water colour would be murkier and browner than if it were fresh. However, if its a river with slow meanders, you might get little patches of saltmarshes establishing, where the erosion turns into deposition instead, so although the water would have a colour difference it would be extreme; on faster bits, though, it would.
There would be, either from the groundwater at the top of the catchment or along the river channel, a certain amount of salt incursion into land. This would basically make arable agriculture in those areas nigh-on impossible, but you could maybe try farming something like samphire along the banks. The exception would be areas that were away from the contaminated aquifer, that also got plenty of rainfall OR freshwater groundwater imputs from another part of the catchment. Even then, though, it couldn't go too close to the river.
Floodplains need considering, too! Floodplains only flood during wet weather events that cause the river to overtop the banks; the rest of the year, they're dry. In this case, that means you might have areas that are freshwater marshes, or maybe even normal grasslands/scrub for most of the year, which then suddenly get inundated with salt. That'll kill all those organisms quite rapidly. You wouldn't have any trees in those areas, and they'd look like mudbaths for the majority of the time, I'd imagine. Very ugly wastelands. These would then provide even more lost soil into the river, for even more browning of the water.
That much sediment would therefore mean the estuary would be a depositional one - new land forms at it. It would probably have a delta. This means lots of mudflats with lots of marine worms and other invertebrates, and consequently insane levels of wading bird diversity to feed on them (plus foodstuffs - oysters, cockles, octopus, smaller fishes, etc). Loot up Korean getbol for an idea of how impressive these things can get. Saltmarshes and/or mangrove forests, too! Depending on climate. Mangroves are a tropical species.
HOWEVER, this is just one idea we've explored so far, so I shall update you if we think of others
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ladadiida · 1 year ago
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𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐬𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐩𝐞𝐞𝐤)
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𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 as much as you wanted to stay by his side, you couldn't bear the thought of watching him fall in love with other women while you're stuck at the kitchen washing dishes and measuring ingredients. so you dreamt of leaving, of traveling to different islands to share your lovely songs and tunes; but the more your desire to leave grows, the more sanji finds himself drowning in your warmth. or, you and sanji over the years, wherein five times you tried to leave him and the one time you finally did, despite his refusal to let you go.
𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 musician reader, 5 + 1 things, pining, unrequited love, not actually unrequited love, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending
𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 i swear i cannot escape a brainrot whenever i watch a new show. this automatically wrote itself, i don't even remember how i came up with this idea. anyway, i'm surprised there aren't many sanji fics that involves the unrequited love trope, seeing that it suits him. or maybe that's just me. this is only a SNEAK PEEK though.
𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 full version now published here!
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You accepted it years ago.
You accepted the fact that you somehow fell in love with Sanji Vinsmoke along your weird journey of working in a sea restaurant full of former pirates and making music while at it. How the pesky feelings grew and wrapped themselves around your aching heart, you didn't know. Maybe it was when he learned to cook your favorite food and gave it to you afterwards, or the way his crystal blue eyes reminded you of snowflakes every winter.
Or maybe it was when he pulled your hair out of jealousy the moment he learned that Zeff would be taking in another child in his care, but brushed it and even braided it after the latter cleared the misunderstanding. Maybe it was when he supported you in your dreams and told you they weren't silly, maybe it was when he fought off drunk men that were trying to hit on you. Or maybe it was the way his voice would drop an octave lower whenever he asks you for a favor. The list could go on and on and you still wouldn't know the reason why. It doesn't matter anyway. You tripped, you fell, and now you're pining.
Drying off the last of the plates, you washed your own hands after and patted them dry on your skirt. You were the last one to leave the kitchen, the other staff already back in their quarters after a long, exhausting day of cooking. You fixed the signature blue bandana tied in your hair then went on your way towards the upper deck.
You weren't blessed with a talent in cooking, so you offered to do chores instead. Washing the dishes, cleaning the restaurant, and doing the laundry were few of the things you do in the Baratie. You can't say that you enjoy it, but you were beyond grateful that Zeff gave you a chance despite his opposition to let a woman work inside his restaurant.
As you were about to go to the newly laundered clothes you hung on a thin wire earlier that morning, you heard two voices speaking. You also smelled cigarette smoke wafting through the air, and you only knew one person who could be smoking at this hour. Your breath hitched in anticipation.
"You bringing a woman to your bed again, Sanji?" The other person asked playfully, but there was a hint of disbelief in his voice. You carefully took a peek so you won't accidentally reveal yourself and be accused of eavesdropping. Two people came into view with their backs facing you.
"Now, what are you talking about, Patty? I am a gentleman. I only had a nice chat with the lovely lady and escorted her back to her ship." Sanji interjected, a cigarette hanging on his lips.
Patty huffed. "I didn't know that chatting included kiss marks on jawlines."
This caused Sanji to laugh and say, "Not my fault she was charmed by my food."
"The boss man ain't gonna like it when he finds out about this."
"He's not gonna find out." Sanji assured him, wiping off the said kiss mark on his jaw. You stared at him as he did so, and you pitied the woman who planted that kiss, knowing she was just one of the many beautiful ladies Sanji had flirted with before. However, a tinge of pain in your chest said otherwise, taunting you that it was not pity you're feeling, but foul jealousy.
"Why don't you look for more decent women, eh? How about 'little lass' for a change?" Patty suddenly suggested.
It was like someone had hit your stomach with one of the metal pans in the kitchen with the way it lurched in surprise and nervousness. Your heartbeat started to quicken the longer you waited for his response, making your grip on your skirt tighter. In moments like these, you allowed yourself to hope, to wish that he saw something in you and that he finds you beautiful and lovely enough to be the person standing by his side.
But his answer made all that hope crumble down into nothing but dust.
"I don't see her that way." Sanji said after a long stretch of silence, taking a long drag from the cigarette then releasing the smoke in a single breath.
Ah.
You blinked repeatedly, trying to keep the tears from forming. It's always been like this, so why can't you get used to it? Taking a deep breath, you gulped away the knot forming in your throat and decided to leave. You can grab the clothes later.
"You're too kind for him." Someone behind you spoke, making you jump and tense up. Turning around, you saw Zeff looking at you with an unreadable emotion in his eyes and his hands on his hips, almost like he knew your secret. Of course he does. He always sees everything.
You stumbled on your words. "Sir?"
"That boy is always up to something." He began, switching his attention to Sanji. "One minute he's stubbornly immature in the kitchen, and the next he'll be a thirsty man staring at women like they're liquid booze."
Clearing your throat, you forced a smile.
"Well, he can be a lot sometimes." You agreed, remembering the days when the two of you would fight over irrelevant matters. Then you chuckled and continued, "But he's kind. He's gentle, and lovely, like a freshly made poem you keep repeating in your head. But then he's also confusing, hot-headed, and reckless. He's like the sea, isn't he? Calm yet wrapped with mystery, dangerous yet beautiful..."
You trailed off, an unbearable heat rising up your cheeks and neck once you slowly began to realize that you just ranted out your feelings to the head chef. You glanced at him with wide eyes, preparing to see a disgusted look on his face; however, Zeff didn't appear to be repulsed by your little speech. In fact, the corners of his lips were slightly quirked up.
"But I cannot swim. If I were to drown, he wouldn't save me." You quickly added, hoping to shut down the topic.
He sighed. "You will meet someone who deserves you as much as you deserve them, little lass." He simply said. He then laid his hand out, and on his palm was a little box poorly tied with a ribbon. "Here, for you."
Altnough you were a bit confused at the random gift, you accepted it and cradled the box to your chest. "I'll be okay, Zeff." You insisted, grinning cheekily. "When I become famous, I'll sing my songs here in Baratie, and people would flood the restaurant to hear my singing. And to eat your food too, of course."
The head chef nodded, relief flooding his expression. "I look forward to that." He said while awkwardly returning your smile.
That night, when you were sure that everyone in the Baratie was asleep, you opened the loose floorboard on the floors of your bedroom and grabbed the wooden box you kept hidden for a long time now. You opened the lid and began counting the Berry you saved for the past few months.
Tomorrow was the perfect day to leave.
You just can't stay here. Yes, you had a roof over your head, delicious food to eat everyday, and clean clothes to wear but you were so miserable. This wasn't the life you wanted. You wish to go out there, sing your heart out, and fall in love with someone who actually loves you back.
A knock on your door made you freeze. You held your breath as the person on the other side continued to knock a few more times. "You awake?"
Pain surged through your veins, your chest twisting in agony. Sanji.
"You didn't come down for dinner. I guess you're too tired, hmm?" He said, his muffled voice gentle, and the sound almost prompted you to stand up and open the door for him. But you dug your fingernails in your palms and resisted, because you can't just let this opportunity pass by.
You heard a brief clinking sound before Sanji spoke again, "Sweet dreams, ange."
Once his footsteps faded away, you cautiously moved towards your door and opened it as quietly as you can. There, on the floor, was a small plate with a slice of your favorite dessert: angel's food cake, topped with fresh cream and strawberries.
You bent down and saw a note beside the plate. And when you got to read the contents of the note, you burst into tears and sobs that wracked down your entire body.
Happy Birthday
— S.
You ate the cake with tears silently falling down your cheeks, and that was the first time you failed to leave Sanji Vinsmoke.
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again, this is only a sneak peek of the actual fic, i'm currently halfway in completing it. please let me know if you want to read it, because i might publish it next week. if not, i'll just drown in sorrow and self-pity.
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bi-writes · 3 months ago
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still wakes the deep au | soap x f!reader
Installment 2/?: Warning Signs
prompt: You're an environmental scientist conducting research on an off-shore oil rig with only a few days left before you're slated to leave. The eldritch creature they accidentally awaken throws a wrench in the works. masterlist
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Being alone feels different when there’s nowhere to run. Every wall looks the same, and the stench of must permeates in every room–the carpet must hold it in. Everything drips; the taste of salt won’t go away, and it makes your eyes dry out every time you close them and open them again. There are other people around you, men that are the cause of the knocks against the rig, but they are as alien as what lies beneath you. Every time you feel as if it’s too foreign, you remind yourself that there is nowhere to go.
The only way out of this place is by doing your job; but even that scares you all of the sudden.
Your bed is lumpy. The mattress feels dry, stiff, and it barely gives as you lay in it. You stare up at the bottom of the top bunk, trying not to think about the sound of sea water pelting your window like a threatening knock while you try to sleep.
Your mind barely gives. You keep the lamp that sits on your makeshift desk turned on. Without it, the black of nothingness from outside bleeds through the walls, and you swear you can see a thousand different shapes that claw their way out of the moonlight towards you. The rig doesn’t shake, but it breathes. It lives, somehow, deep legs connected to the seafloor to keep it from drifting off, from separating, from taking you with it, from suffocating you until your breaths are filled with water and your body is too cold to–
You jump when the lamp bursts. A jolt of electricity shatters the bulb, and you sit up in bed, clutching the sheets as you watch the lamp glow slightly before fizzling out. The room blankets into the dark, and you move shakily off your bed and pat around for your flashlight before clicking it on. The small circle of yellow light doesn’t do what you hoped; instead, it makes the shadows of every object longer and seem further away, and they start to move as your hand shakes, so much so that you cannot tell if something is coming towards you or if your mind is still convincing you of some sort of seasickness. One lodged into your brain, one that doesn’t make you nauseous but makes you paranoid that some hole in the ocean will open up and take you with it.
The thought of drowning is not as terrifying as finding out what lies beneath the surface of the water.
When you used to think of the ocean, it used to soothe you. When you closed your eyes, all you could see was crystal clear blue and tropical fish. You thought about running your fingers through warm water and kicking your feet as you watched dolphins fly beside you. When the sun penetrated the light, it shined until it showed the seafloor, where little creatures burrowed beneath bright sand, making it sparkle.
The ocean you know now is anything like it. You understand what they mean when they say “mother nature,” because only a woman scorned could eat the world the way she does. Waves touching taller than buildings. Animals so large, they would swallow you whole and let the acid of their insides quiet your screams for nutrition. An endless void, reaching miles towards the center of earth, a vast unknown that crushes heavy metals and defies physics the further and further you drop. She’s unforgiving. Mean. A terrifying, wonderful thing, and you are cheating death. You know it. She screams at you from just outside your thin walls, and you are pretending not to hear her. She’s telling you something, but you bury your nose in your books.
If it’s a warning she’s trying to give, you won’t know it until it’s too late.
The rig groans in the middle of the night. You can hear the pipes expanding, the water moving aggressively outside your window, the sounds of cranes and metal creaking that rattle off around you. Your hand shakes a little as you try and find your shoes, slipping them on as you open your door in search of a new source of light.
It’s the middle of the night, but there’s still a skeleton crew around, moving between their night shifts. You make your way down the hall, clicking off your flashlight, and you find yourself in the rec room in search of light bulbs in the utility closet there. You hear the doors swing open behind you, and you try to ignore the rowdy voices of men as you stand on your tiptoes and rummage the hundredth box for what you need. You try not to think about the whisps of something delicate you feel grazing your fingertips (because spiders wouldn’t be this far out from land, right?).
“Looks like ye need a little help, bonnie.”
You startle yourself nearly out of your skin. You trip off the ledge you’re standing on, trying to hold your hands out to brace yourself, but you never hit the ground. Strong hands grip you around the middle, breaking your fall and getting you back onto your feet, nice and steady. You spin around, clutching your flashlight to your chest, panting like an anxious puppy. You can make out his blue eyes even in the dark, bright and seemingly concerned as Soap tries to get a grip on you to keep you from swaying.
“‘S alright, lass, ‘s just me! Soap, it’s Soap.”
You put a hand over your chest, trying to calm your breathing, You shake your head, closing your eyes as you try and repeat the mantra you’ve been telling yourself since you got on this stupid rig.
Your feet are on solid ground. Your feet are on solid ground. Your feet are on solid ground.
“Sorry,” you whisper. “I…”
“What are ye doin’ up?” He asks, clicking his tongue. “‘S the middle of the night! Reckon ye need yer beauty sleep.”
You smile a bit, but it doesn’t reach your eyes. You do it to placate him. Men don’t always respond well to sharp teeth, and you haven’t decided how you feel about this one yet. He’s too comfortable. His hands are still around your arms, thumbs smoothing too easily over the bone of your shoulders. He’s too close; he steps just nearer to you, tongue sliding over that top row of teeth, and you try not to think about the way his pupils dilate at the terrified look on your face, the one your smile cannot hide. When he tilts his head to the side, you think he means to look curious, but you think it closer to prey playing with its food. The curls of his growing mohawk fall over his forehead, drawing a dark shadow over his eyes, and you can no longer try to see what might give him away in his gaze.
“The light in my…room. I need a new one, I–” You shake your head. “It’s stupid, but I just…I can’t sleep.”
“We’ll get ye all right fer bed, love,” Soap chuckles. “What’s broken, ye ken what kind ye need?”
You blink, biting your lip, thinking. He’s still touching you; he still has his hands around your arms, but now they’ve settled around your elbow, calloused fingers curled over where they rest.
“I’m not sure. The lamp on my desk, it’s–”
“Ach, those are hidin’, I’m sure o’ it,” he lets you go, reaching up and hoisting down a few boxes before reaching for what lies behind them. He carries them on his shoulder before dropping them onto the floor, and you try not to think about watching him work. He’s a large man. Strong, that much is evident, but there’s something off. You think his physical appearance hides what lies inside. He’s pretty, in a way that shouldn’t be allowed. Straight teeth, a killer smile, arms that do not give once they’re taut with use. Even the uniform he wears does nothing to hide thicker thighs and a solid middle; but you try not to let it distract you from what really remains. If he wasn’t so gorgeous, you don’t think he’d get away with that tick that must exist in his brain. The one that allows him to crowd your space without much resistance. The one that lets him smile like that, like he’s won something, like he’s gotten what he wanted not because he fought for it, but because it is what he is owed. 
He bends over and picks up a bulb that looks good enough and hands it to you. When he straightens his back, you try to catch that look in his eyes again. Maybe he knows you’re looking for it, and now he’s hiding it. Maybe he’s cooing in his own head about what a clever girl you are and trying to decide how he’ll play his game differently.
“Can walk ye back, put it in fer ye.”
You take it from him, drawing a shaky breath. You want to say no. You want to tell him you can do it all on your own, that you’re fine, but then the closet door swings open, and a group of tired-looking crew stare at the two of you as they snicker and nudge each other.
“Wot ye doin’, Soap, seven minutes in heaven with the fuckin’ feds?”
“Och–shut the fuck up, the lot o’ ye,” Soap bites back. “Just doin’ her fuckin’ job, just like the rest o’ ye, so get the fuck out the way. Middle of the night, bunch of gobshites.”
Soap puts a hand around the small of your back, guiding you past the group and out into the hallway. He follows you wordlessly back to accommodations, stopping in front of your door. Your name isn’t on it, but you don’t comment about how he knew this was yours. He waits for you to open the door for him before following you inside.
“A right mess, luvvie.”
He doesn’t let you help. He kicks your bin under the desk, carefully discarding of the pieces of glass that are scattered across your desk. He grumbles under his breath about it being too sharp and how he will do it better and how he can take care of ye. 
When the lamp clicks back on, it paints the room in that comforting orange light, and you relax as you take a seat on your bed, clutching the sheets to dry your clammy palms. He still invades your space, but somehow, with the light, it dampens the sentiment. He scares you just a little less, but if you give him just that much, how much will he use it to his advantage?
“Ye need anythin’, I’m…just down there,” Soap says finally. He points behind him, down the north end of the hallway, and all you can do is nod. “Don’t listen to the lot, bonnie,” Soap adds. “Bunch o’ old, tired bastards. Mean no harm. But if they do, ye come ta me, ye hear?”
“Uhm…Soap?” You call out as he’s leaving. You don’t know why you stop him. You don’t know why you’re talking to him; you’re certain he’s not a stranger to telling a good lie. He turns to face you, leaning against the doorway, and you clear your throat. No one should look this good on just a few hours of sleep, but he’s still blinking awake, unsettlingly calm. “This place…it’s safe, right? I mean…safe as it ought to be?”
Soap smiles, but it’s not like his other smiles. It feels unnatural. His teeth are duller. Lips drier. Maybe he’s just tired.
“It’s safe, love. Swear it. Got me on those rivets.”
You don’t know why, but when he comes close to you, you let him. You let him touch your face, thick fingers smoothing down your jaw just a little too rough, big thumb along your bottom lip rubbing just a little too hard. You hear his door shut nearby once he goes.
The ocean screams. You can hear her again now that his voice is no longer around. You fall asleep knowing he’s close, and you pretend not to notice her. Just like always.
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