#i feel like all of these have been done before

[notquitecanon]

Search History // Poly!141 x Reader

A continuation of this thought

Summary: Reader (based loosely on Penelope Garcia from Criminal Minds) has to be face-to-face with the boys for the first time since they started including her in their late-night fantasies. They've decided it's time to take it off-screen and move in IRL.

I'm taggin the peeps who replied to the last part bc I'm desperate for attention lol (in all actuality y'all really encouraged me to actually write thank you!!)

CW: allusions to porn, allusions to female genitalia, they're all horny in the workplace, this is basically workplace harassment but we're excusing it because they're hot and fictional and I say so, no outright smut

Still nsfw though so MDNI pls and thanks

“The 141 just touched down. ETA twenty minutes.” 

Your eyes flicked up from the muted video on your monitor, cheeks flushed red but masked by the light radiating off your screen in your dark office. Thank God, your monitor faced away from the door. A young private was standing in the doorway with a tablet, looking at you for an acknowledgment, probably running about starting preparations for their arrival back on home base. 

“Thank you, private.” You murmured, teeth toying at your thumbnail, chipping the polish. The young soldier gave a short nod at the quiet dismissal and disappeared once again. Your eyes, with embarrassingly blown pupils, flicked back to the video. 

After your discovery two weeks ago, the sites and links you had to review furthered down the rabbit hole. And this video you were currently watching had been one that all the men had been visiting, and revisiting, and revisiting… 

By god, they’d done it. 

Similar build, skin tone only a shade or two different - you could probably share foundation and it wouldn’t look too bad. Hair and eye color so close it was uncanny. And when the woman looked over her shoulder at the mountain of a man hitting it from the back, the angle made the resemblance almost scarily uncanny.  The Had you had a porn career and simply forgotten?- kind of uncanny. 

Sure there were differences- she was a little taller, maybe a bit leaner, with boobs that had definitely had some work done. Tattoos where your skin was bare and vice versa, different piercings. Her voice was pitched different, and her accent was completely different from yours but within three minutes of the video she’d stopped speaking words, so accent didn’t matter much.  But as far as porn actresses went- she might as well be your twin. 

It seemed the 141 had perused her entire.. filmography. Different videos, different scenarios, different partners. They all had videos they seemed to like better than others. Soap seemed to particularly like the POV video where the man had a thick Scottish accent. Gaz had bookmarked a soft-core bondage and forced orgasm scene. Price, a shorter video of an unseen man pushing the actress under a desk for oral, and Ghost… the only link he’d visited was your instagram. It was hard not to let it stroke your ego a little bit. 

God, if you told anyone about this… They’d tell you to file a workplace harassment suit, and maybe a police report.  To start job hunting, and therapist hunting. Distance yourself. You should have been embarrassed or uncomfortable- you knew you should be. That you should feel objectified or disrespected, disgusted. 

But hell, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t send yourself the links and watched them in your free time at home. It was hot- turned you on in an almost concerning way that would set feminism back twenty years if you told anyone. 

The video kept playing on your monitor, one of the videos that Soap had visited more than once (little did you know it was one that Ghost had picked out). A gloved hand smoothly glided down the actress's spine before curving around her throat and pulling her upright on the man’s lap, filthy praises in a British accent playing through your single AirPod. 

“Holy shit…”  You muttered, thighs clenching because if you squinted it really did look like you, even some of her mannerisms. And the rough accent was like a mix of Ghost's and Price’s. 

Abruptly, you shut down the entire monitor completely, ripping out the AirPod and tossing it on the desk. Pressing slightly shaking hands to your too hot face. You needed to get it together, because Price was your boss and the others were your superiors. They’d been gone for a month and a half, and it’d been your voice in their ears guiding them through missions, and you knew you had a flirty disposition, especially from the private safety of your dark little office half way across the world. 

It made sense that their wires got a little crossed, but your wires- like those off all your monitors and hardware- needed to stay neatly organized and separate. Focus. Focus. 

Your nails were bitten to the quick, the bitter taste of old nail polish on the back of your tongue. The skin around your nails was raw from your teeth toying with it as your so intensely focussed on the videos. You needed to get out of this too small, too hot room.  Which is how you found yourself, twenty minutes later, in the communal break room fighting with the vending machine. It was withholding the ice cold water you were desperate for, despite your curses and attempts to jostle the machine. Right as you delivered a frustrated kick to the machine-

“Just the bird we were looking for!” 

It was Kyle’s voice first, that tipped you off to the herd of men entering the space. You almost jumped out of your skin- brain flitting through several scandalous snippets of the videos he’d replayed. His smile was dazzling as always as he came into view, tapping the yellow warning stickers that instructed people not to jostle the machine, with the little illustration of the stick man getting crushed, “What’d the machine ever do to you? It might start fighting back.” 

A gloved hand reached between the two of you, skeleton fingers curled into a fist that delivered a blunt strike, and, like magic, the water bottle fell in to the receptacle. You peeked over your shoulder at Ghost, standing just slightly too close and looking down at you intensely, but not meanly. An easy to miss bit of mirth that was usually reserved for Soap. Thank god you’d bitten your nails to stubs or they would’ve drawn blood from how they were digging into your palms to distract you from the gloved hands and the brutish display of strength. 

Kyle put the drink sweetly in your hands after cracking it for you, like he would do when bringing Ghost or Price something, eyes twinkling like he knew something you didn’t.  Another hand, warm and large clapped gently on your shoulder, pulling you back a step, almost directly into Captain Price’s chest. 

The men shared a look over your head before focussing back on you. 

“Your intel was good.” It was a simple statement, but delivered in a warm, proud tone that felt so much like praise that your stomach flipped a bit, with that warm smile that made him look soft despite the fact he was still in full tac-gear, “They didn’t even see us coming.” 

“They never see you coming, that’s kind of your whole thing.” You tried a joke, your voice a touch strained. His hand was lingering, right on the curve where your shoulder became your neck, fingers flexing into the flesh just so. Just like it did on the boys when he thought others wouldn’t noticed. focus, focus, focus. 

Fortunately, or unfortunately, it was Soap that interrupted the kneading of Price’s fingers. 

“Don’t be so modest, bonnie!” He was laughing as large arms caught you around the waist, lifting and spinning you slightly. His voice so similar to that one Scottish co-star that had done such filthy things to your lookalike, it made your head spin.  Despite your startled yelp and squirming, his grip didn’t waver, “Couldn’t of done it without our lass in the chair.” 

“ ’nough, Johnny,” Ghost called firmly, leaning against the vending machine that they’d all but cornered you against, “Put ‘er down.” 

Soap’s laugh was still good natured as he set you on your feet again, a little roughly for the heels you had on to match your skirt, you wobbled only for Ghost himself to steady you, giving you another intense look, that you had trouble meeting, “ 'e’s right though. Intel was good.” 

They were all staring at you, varying degrees of smirks, eyes a spectrum of mischief and something that was dizzyingly close to hunger.  Unable to keep still, you were squirming, shifting your weigh from foot to foot, fiddling with the wrapper on the bottle. You found your eyes flitting around settling anywhere but their own gaze, cheeks feeling hot, mind full of vile images that you knew they’d seen and enjoyed- ceiling, the exit sign, Johnny’s tac-vest, the floor, the water bottle in your hands. You gulped, eyebrows raising as you puffed a breath, trying desperately to reign yourself in.

“Glad to be of service.” You smiled tightly, nodding meeting each set of eyes briefly and hoping your foundation masked your blush (it didn’t). Jesus Christ, you couldn’t do this.  You couldn’t tell if you felt turned on or awkward or both, but you needed to go. Preferably before you did something that would cost you your job. Your voice was rushed as you squeezed between Gaz and Price, double timing it to the exit, “Enjoy your leave, boys, you deserve it.” 

As you all but fled the building, you typed out a mass base-wide memo email, language formal as you professionally reminded every soldier, specifically four of them, that any website visited by government devices was subject to internal review. 

You swore you could hear them laughing as the memo went out. But maybe that was just your overactive imagination. 

____

You’d gone home for the evening, and then clocked back in the following morning. Surprised to find all of the 141 was still there, debriefing must have ran long. 

“Morning, love.” It was Kyle that greeted you, pressing a cup of coffee into your hands. He looked tired but happy to see you. Soap was with him, eyes bright and grin wide as he whistled lowly, fingers tugging at the hem of your skirt as you passed his seat. 

“Looking good, bonnie,” He smiled devilishly, rubbing the fabric between his fingers before letting go, “Tired of all the green, black, and beige tac gear. Missed seeing something a little… softer.”  

You somewhat doubted that. He seemed to appreciate military khaki when it hugged Gaz’s ass, and he sure didn’t seem to mind an all black tactical ensemble when it was on Ghost. But the compliment still brought heat up your neck, which you coupled with a sip of the hot coffee Gaz had brought you- fixed perfectly the way you liked it. It elicited a pleased sigh as you swallowed, humming in content. 

“Price wants to see you before we all leave. Brought you some new stuff to work on.” Kyle smiled, watching how your expression softened at the taste of the beverage, clearly proud of himself for drawing out that reaction.   

“A present? For me?” You smiled sarcastically back at the prospect of more work added to you caseload, “It’s like Christmas.” 

“You been good this year?” Kyle grinned back, accompanied by Soap chiming, voice low and chiding, “Nah, she’s definitely been naughty.” 

Both Sergeant’s shared a look as you almost choked on another sip of coffee. 

“I’m leaving now.” You shook your head, turning on your heel away from where they were hanging around the rec room, clearly waiting for Price to dismiss them, “Y’all should shower. Or take a nap.” 

“You want us naked?” Kyle questioned, raising his eyebrows at you, leaning back against the wall, standing so very close to Soap, who was sprawled out in his chair, long legs splayed and spread before him as he waggled his eyebrows. “And in bed?” 

Now that was some imagery. Taking the lord’s name in vain you didn’t dignify that with a response other than a huffed, “Leaving now.” 

____

The good thing about Price and Ghost was they were business first. So if you really focussed you could almost ignore Ghost's thigh pressed against yours as you sat beside him in the dark room, reviewing body cam footage. They pointed out different things to you, things to include as you started your next dark web deep dive. 

You could almost ignore how Price’s fingers grazed and lingered on your palm as he gave you a thumb drive to decrypt and analyze, how he stood close enough to you that you had to look at him through your lashes. 

“Has a self destruct program that Gaz didn’t want t' aggravate. Figured it needed your... soft touch.” Price smiled down at you as you curled your fingers around the thumb drive. You had to try pretty hard to ignore the slight emphasis on soft. Ghost seemed to chuckle lowly at your expression at the captain. 

“What’s on there'll point us in the next direction of our next target.” Ghost nodded to you, his leg shifting so it pressed harder against yours. In the guise of stretching out, he’d draped an arm over the back of your chair, the cotton of his gloves half tickling the sensitive skin on the back of your bicep, where the flesh was soft. 

“So don’t screw it up, got it.” You swallowed thickly, shifting so you couldn’t feel his thumb against your skin- it was making it hard to think about hacking and terrorism and military operations.  He took it as an invitation to spread out more, his fingers grazing the exact spot only seconds later. 

“Precisely,” John laughed lowly, his hand moved to your shoulder, back into that sweet curve that was partly your shoulder and partly your neck, and gave it a lingering squeeze, that kind of made you want to melt, “You won’t screw it up, love.” 

The captain gave his Lieutenant a nod, and Ghost quickly stood, his boot giving the toe of your pretty heels a slight nudge as a goodbye before silently stalking out. Price took a seat across from you, leaning back and his arms cross comfortably over his chest.

“I’m having the boys over at mine tonight. A couple of drinks, I’m gonna grill, put the footie on, celebrate another successful mission to start our leave.” Price listed out their plans casually, noting how you squirmed a bit, uncrossing and recrossing your legs as you tugged at the hem of your skirt before continuing, “We want you to come. Couldn’t have done it without you, so you should celebrate it too.” 

“Oh, uh-“ You started before you could think of a good excuse, “I’ll be really busy… with.. with the flash drive. And stuff.” 

“What stuff?” Price rose a single brow, his stare pinning you still as he reached across the table and took the flash drive back, “This can wait.” 

“Files. Coding. Security checks.” You mumbled the first couple aspects of your job that came to mind, the intensity of his gaze making you want to adjust your collar or shrink in your seat. You figured you’d have a couple more sites to clear off their devices, if they’d been sitting around base all night. Your cheeks heated just at the thought. “I’m a little behind. Been… distracted lately."

“Everything all right, love?” He ‘asked’ with at signature warm smile and amused eyes, he seemed to already know the answer to his question, “You’ve been… skittish, since we got back.” 

Your teeth worried the seam of your lips as you considered the question. Skittish, was one way to put it- fidgety, fleeing rooms, avoiding eye contact, barely speaking as opposed to your usual chatter and banter. Your eyes flitted away from his gaze again, swallowing dryly again- geez when did you get so shy, “ ‘m fine. Absolutely fine. Never been better. How’re you?” 

Cringing at your own rambling, you sighed shoulders drooping as he fixed you with another look, and muttered your name in a way that sent a shiver down your spine. It was a look that expected obedience, as his legs shifted into a natural man spread. Your brain flitted back to the video of your look alike being shoved under a desk… 

Him saying your name again, slightly louder but just as bemused drew you back to him, realizing you were staring at his legs, debating if you could fit between his knees and you almost sputtered as you cleared your throat, “I’m fine, really.” 

“Either lie more convincingly or tell me what’s bothering you, sweet.”  Price chuckled, leaving forward against the table, drumming a knuckle against the table. Sweet, that was new. You’d have to add it to the laundry list of nicknames and pet names the boys had for you. You’d always told yourself that it was nothing personal, that British/Scottish people just did that. But this on wasn’t as easy to write off as ‘love’ or ‘bonnie’, average pet names in the UK colloquial, no sweet seemed personal. 

“I’m not bothered.” You glanced away again, nose wrinkling, even though you were bothered- hot and bothered. John Price had a way of drawing details out of people with just a look and a couple of well prodded words.  With a deep breath, you tried to keep your characteristic rambling to a minimum, a losing battle as he starting stroking at his beard with those long fingers- two parts of him that you’d been thinking about way too much lately-, “Listen, I’m not judging, you’re grown men, watch what you want to, but just a reminder that it’s my job and obligation to review every link and site that government devices visit. Which includes at least skimming videos.  In case you didn’t know or maybe forgot that I can and do see these things, so maybe you could pass that along to the boys-“ 

“You can tell 'em yourself. ’s your job, sweet.” Price said firmly. The girlish part of your brain corrected ‘firmly’ to dominantly. Before his demeanor relaxed again, giving you an amused, appraising look again, “At my place. Tonight. 8 o’clock. Not a request.” Shrinking in your chair a bit, hoping the chair hid the way your thighs involuntarily clenched, you couldn’t help but nod and squeak, “Yes, sir.” 

___

Was supposed to have actually smut in this but I got carried away on the build-up, laugh out loud. Maybe a part three or you can just imagine how the little dinner party goes (hint, she's the meal)

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[beloveds-embrace]

Thinking about designationless reader...

Imagine how alone she must've been for all her life. It started since she was young, her parents pushing her to the corner of the home, away from the family, and naturally, her siblings would follow their parents' lead, pointedly ignoring her, and finding any excuse available to be out of her presence. She wouldn't understand them anyway, she can't tell the difference between noises nor could she even recognize scents. It just wouldn't work.

Reader thinks that maybe she could find someone, anyone in school, but kids are like sharks, except instead of smelling blood, they smell the lack of all scents on her. Most kids have a combination of their own and their family members' scents. Reader has nothing, so everyone continues the pattern, but now with more stares and jeers and hushed giggles. Reader knows that bullying is bad, but anything would be better than simply not existing to anyone. That's what the others say, at least, that she's nothing, nobody. Never to her face, though, just in the whispers shared between friends.

She eventually tries to find others like her through the wonders of the internet. There's maybe a handful more scattered in her country, but none are her age, and all have their own families who care about them. Was it just her who wasn't deserving of love, of connection? Reader reaches out to them, and they talk a little, but before long, through no one's fault, it falls through. She was bad at talking anyway, even if she doesn't have to worry about scents or sounds that aren't there, she never knew much about context or connotation. She never had the opportunity to learn about the intricacies in communication. Reader is back alone.

The military eventually scouts her, and it's the first time anyone has ever really looked at her. Sure, they look at her like a valuable tool, but a tool is better than nothing. Reader obviously joins, desperate for crumbs. She climbs the ranks, gets the job done. She is good at her job, so people respect her. She learns how to talk professionally, emails, texts, and so one, but no one talks to her on leave. No one invites her to the pub after a good mission. No one even talks to her in the mess. But people do talk to her when they have to, and that's enough. Maybe she even gets a callsign. Doe. After Jane Doe, the placeholder name for unknown individuals, and insult if anything.

Now there's the 141. They invite her to things. They talk to her. They touch her. Reader exists for them. She isn't just an unknown person stuck in the background and invisible to everyone else, and Reader doesn't know what to do. Her speech is awkward and overly professional, even in personal settings. How is she supposed to be friends with someone, multiple someones? How is she supposed to move? To act? To express? She doesn't know, but she really wants to learn. At least now she has good teachers.

ANON YOU GENIUSSSS okay but this? Perfect. AHHHH I ADORE THIS IDEA!! Esp the jane doe callsign omg yes

You weren’t used to being seen.

Growing up, you learned quickly how to make yourself small- how to exist quietly, without taking up space, without asking for too much. Because the few times you had asked- asked for a hug, asked to be let into the nest, asked why you felt so different- the answers had all been the same.

No.

Not now.

Not you.

It wasn’t that your parents didn’t love you. You were sure they did, in their own way. But love was hard to feel when your mother flinched at your touch like you were something disgusting, when your father sighed like he was tired every time you entered the room as if you were taking up space he was saving for his other children. When your siblings built their nests without you, curling into piles of warmth and safety while you sat outside the door, knees pulled to your chest and hands balled into fists to keep them from knocking, a cold ache burrowing itself in your chest.

You stopped knocking eventually.

You stopped trying.

You used to wonder if you’d done something wrong- if maybe you could fix yourself and everything would go back to normal. But it wasn’t something you could fix. It was just… you.

Scentless.

Designationless.

Invisible.

School had been worse, perhaps the worst. At least your family had pretended not to notice how different you were. The other kids didn’t bother pretending. They stared openly, whispered behind your back, laughed when you walked by. You’d caught bits and pieces of what they said- weird, wrong, broken, as if they hoped by having you hear their words, they’d convince you to leave at last.

You’d started keeping your head down after that, slipping through the halls like a shadow. No one talked to you unless they had to, and even then they either did it with a mocking, jeering tone that echoes in your nightmares or with a meek tone; as if your lack of everything is contagious. No one sat next to you at lunch, either. When partners were assigned, you always ended up working alone per your teachers’ instructions.

It was easier that way.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

By the time you joined the military, you’d gotten good at being alone. You didn’t need friends. Didn’t need packmates. You had work, and work didn’t care if you were quiet or awkward or too stiff to laugh at the right jokes. Work didn’t care if you flinched when people got too close or froze when someone raised their voice. Work demanded to be done, and you had nothing and no one to stop you from that.

But the military also has the same teens who used to bully you so consistently. Rookies all to ready and happy to lord over you. It’s how you get your despised callsign, Doe. Jane Doe. A cruel mockery, comedy wherein you are the joke that has the world laughing.

Still, you wear it. It’s still an acknowledgment and that will always be better than never being seen. You flit from team to team, unit to unit, always an observer from afar, watching everyone around you speak a language you can’t.

But the 141 was different, when you eventually end up working for them.

They cared.

They cared in ways you weren’t ready for.

Soap was relentless, dragging you into conversations even when you barely knew what to say. He filled the silences like it didn’t bother him, kept talking for the both of you, lounging against you unbothered, until you started talking back. Gaz was gentlest, steadier. He never pushed, just lingered close enough to remind you he was there, waiting, whenever you were ready. Quiet, silent acceptance you’d never been given before, and you were yet far too afraid to so easily cling to it.

And the Alphas- Price and Ghost- were worse.

Price had a way of looking at you that made your chest ache, like he saw you, really saw you, and didn’t mind what he found. Scentless, with no designation and all. Ghost was quieter, sharper, but his eyes tracked you everywhere, presence wrapping around you like he was staking a claim you didn’t understand, like he was teying to etch every part of you behind his eyelids.

You didn’t know what to do with it.

They didn’t give you space. They sat next to you at meals, tugged you along when they went out for drinks, called you over during breaks like it was the most natural thing in the world. And it felt natural- until it didn’t, because sometimes you still felt like an outsider.

Like you didn’t belong.

You tried to hide it, but they saw through you. They always did, and they never shied away.

When you started avoiding the mess hall, it was Gaz who caught you, shoving a plate of food into your hands and dragging you to sit with him like it wasn’t a big deal. When you hung back during missions, letting the others fall into their pack dynamics without you, Soap was the one who looped an arm around your shoulders and pulled.

And when you flinched, once, at the sharp sound of someone’s voice echoing down the hall- when you tensed so hard it made your fingers tremble- it was Price who closed the distance, standing in front of you like a wall and letting Ghost linger at your back. Neither of them said a word.

They didn’t have to.

You weren’t used to being protected. You weren’t used to belonging.

But they made it hard not to.

[ssahotchnerr]

pleasepleaseplease, if you're willing ofc 🫶, can we get a little something where jack is trying his absolute hardest to get hotch and r together during the christmas season?! (i can only imagine the romcom chaos and deliciousness that'll involve haha!) 🙏❤️🎄

mistletoe mischief

the dream!!!!! & jack receives some assistance from morgan also :) cw; bau fem!reader, mutual pining, mentions of food, typical cm case talk, bau family banter, feelings realized (with some making out <3), fluff 🤭 wc; 1.5k

It had become tradition for everyone to go to Dave's house for Christmas Eve. And that meant everyone - the team, the kids, partners. The more the merrier.

It was a time to enjoy each other's company, laugh, exchange gifts and indulge in delicious food and treats. It was a nice reprieve from the hectic stress that the holidays brought, and everyone was happy to have it.

Whereas Jack had a different approach to the night. He had decided, that tonight would be the night you and his dad got together. He would make sure of it.

Only, it wasn't as easy as he thought.

All night Jack's done what he could, in hopes of initiating something between the two of you. Dinner was easy, he had sweetly asked you to switch seats with him - how could you have possibly said no? He persuaded his father to team up with you for the 'reindeer games', like holiday bingo, or unscrambling Christmas songs. That had been a small victory; Aaron giving you a celebratory hug when you were the first to call bingo.

But it still wasn't what he hoped. Things like that worked at school, if someone had a crush on another - they sat together in the cafeteria, they teamed up as partners in class, they played together at recess. (Sadly it was snowing outside, and Uncle Dave didn't have a swing set.)

Defeated, Jack found himself slouching on the couch, pouting alone.

Morgan had been the first to notice his minor sulking, making his way over. "What's on your mind big man?"

"Nothing." He mumbled under his breath, picking at the cookies on the plate you had put together for him.

"Nothing? For someone Santa's visiting tonight, you don't look very excited." He sat down, giving Jack's shoulder a pat, an invitation to open up. "Wanna tell me what's up?"

Jack kept his eyes on his treats, toying with the idea of sharing before sighing, asking if Dad liked you. Like really, liked you.

Derek's lips pursed. His expression changed to one of uncertainty, mulling over the situation.

"That's the million dollar question right there. We think so," Derek confessed, thinking back to all the times where you and Aaron seemed much too comfortable. The constant, lingering stares. Aaron going soft on you at times. The fear in your eyes when Hotch had encountered an unsub at gunpoint. This had occurred recently, and afterwards when Hotch was deemed safe and sound, you had refused to leave his side altogether.

"What have you seen? I'm sure you know what's going on more than the rest of us."

Jack nodded, perking up slightly at his uncle's vague admittance. His lips pulled into a smile, "Well, she is over a lot."

Derek grinned, his head tilting to the side. "Really."

"Yeah," Jack took a bite of his cookie. "We have a lot of fun. She brings over pizza for movie night every Friday if she and Dad aren't working. Cheese for me. Pepperoni and sausage for her and Dad."

"They share, huh?"

"And then Dad spent a lot of time picking out her Christmas present. But they haven't kissed." Jack sighed frustratedly, an innocent confusion on his face. "That's what grown ups do when they love each other, right?"

"It is pretty standard," Derek affirmed, amused himself at the confirmation something was, in fact, going on. It's only been driving the team crazy for weeks.

He, as well as the others, have confronted you about it numerous times, knowing that if they went to Hotch instead, he would confess nothing. But you reacted similarly. A shrug and a "just friends" before switching to a different topic.

"I tried all night too." Jack's bottom lip protruded in a pout once more. "But nothing works."

"Well..." A smile formed on Derek's face. "Maybe you just need a little extra help."

-

"Rally up the troops." Penelope clapped at you, to which you snorted an airy laugh through your nose. "Don't just sit there. I have been shopping since Halloween and I've masterly selected each and every gift and I have been itching to see all your reactions. I almost gave you yours two weeks ago."

"Okay, okay," You surrendered, throwing your hands up. You knew better than to face Penelope's driven wrath.

"You better," Her expression was sharp, pointing a warning finger at you. She hurried away as another laugh escaped you, while you also opted to take one more drink.

As she left the room, Jack entered.

"Hey Jackers," Your face brightened at the sight of him, putting your drink aside. "I heard it's almost time for presents." You raised your eyebrows, a soft smile on your face. "You excited?"

Jack nodded, a glint in his eyes. It was rather mischievous, similar to the one he gave Aaron when he wanted to delay going to bed early, only much more so. "Can you help me with something first?"

"Of course I can," You agreed within a split second's notice. Jack grabbed your hand and led you away just as fast. "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah."

He led you towards Dave's foyer. It was dimly lit, shoes scattered amongst the welcome mat. God forbid someone stained Dave's carpeting.

Aaron and Morgan were just coming back inside; Aaron looked a bit agitated, per usual, while Derek was sporting his famous, cheeky grin.

" - I don't know why you would say that." Aaron continued, tossing an annoyed look over his shoulder to Morgan. As his gaze returned forward, and made eye contact with you, the softness in his face returned instantly.

"Is everything okay?" You wondered, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you and Jack came to a stop.

"Morgan said my car alarm was going off." Aaron shoved his keys back into his pocket, leaving Morgan's side and favoring yours. "And evidently lied."

"Lied?" A laugh escaped you, perplexedly looking at Morgan, seeking an explanation as well.

"My bad." He waved it off, giving Jack a wink. That was suspicious, but he switched topics before anything could be said. "Oh, would you look at that."

His hand raised, his index finger pointing upwards, directing right between you and Aaron. Both your gazes followed.

Mistletoe.

Oh.

Your eyes shot to Derek's, wide and surprised. In contrast, Aaron's face remained neutral, but a deep blush was growing on his cheeks, as well tinting his ears.

"Well, we'll leave you two to it." He left it at that, shrugging nonchalantly before gesturing Jack away.

"What... Jack?" You started, turning around. "I thought you needed..."

The two of them were gone before you could finish your sentence. However, you did view the tail end of Derek giving Jack a high five.

So, they had been in cahoots. You scoffed a laugh, shaking your head.

Now alone, your eyes connected with Aaron's, who was standing there rather anxiously. Naturally, there was a touch of tension in the air, but it wasn't awkward by any means. A mutual excitement, as well as relief. An electricity.

Aaron hadn't been anxious, but buzzing with anticipation.

You've been wanting to kiss him. He's been yearning to kiss you. The time had just never been right, nor had it the perfect moment. In addition, there was always the fear of rejection.

And suddenly you felt like an idiot for even contemplating such, because from the longing you noticed within his pupils, you've always been on the same page.

Aaron chucked, stating the obvious and peering back up at the mistletoe. "I think we were set up."

"You don't say." You quipped in response, a nervous laugh escaping you. Oh my god was repeatedly circling in your head. You shifted your weight from one foot to another. There was so much you wanted to say, having gone through the potential conversation in your mind more times than you could count. But now, as the opportunity finally presented itself - nothing.

Aaron on the other hand, simply decided to show you.

He wasted no time - his confidence was quite literally the hottest thing you could fathom. All in one smooth motion, his hand cupped your cheek and he placed his lips firmly onto yours.

A spark of energy rushed through you, the both of you in fact. Every nerve in your body was suddenly alive and heightened. Your fingers clutched onto the sides of his shirt, reciprocating the passion.

Aaron's kiss was gentle, his fingertips rough but incredibly soft where they rest against your skin. It made sense, it mirrored him perfectly. A hard exterior, but tender underneath.

And longing to be even closer, Aaron shoved you lightly against the wall, slotting a leg between your thighs. That way, he could lose himself more into you, and you could fully succumb to him.

Your head was fuzzy, feeling lightheaded in the best way possible as your heart fluttered in your chest. Now that Aaron had kissed you, you were done for. From now on, you refused to go each day without receiving another. You couldn't.

"We're missing presents." You teased once the two of you pulled away for air, cheeks flushed. And immediately missing his contact, your lips easily found their way back to his. You could feel his smile, a happy sigh leaving him.

"They can wait."

[moody-alcoholic]

Part 2 as promised.

Part 1

CW: Dead dove don’t eat, assault, mentions of SA, torture, suicidal thoughts, hurt/comfort.

_____________________

Ghost flicks the ash off his cigarette. 

“Do we know who we’re looking for?" Gaz asks. It's a pointless question. They know who they’re looking for. You’ve been mentioning a guy at work who has been getting a little too handsy. 

You were going to confront him in the new year with your boss. You didn’t want to ruin anyone's Christmas, now yours is ruined. 

People are starting to leave the office building now, it’s just past midnight. They watch in silence concealed in the darkness down an alleyway a few buildings from your workplace. Maybe this was the alley you were found down. It’s dark and cold, the businesses are all closed, it would have been easy to coerce you down, it makes his stomach drop. Someone hurt you, he hurt you. 

“Should have taken care of this sooner.” Gaz says. Ghost just hums watching as the lights in the buildings go off. The last few people are filtering out the building. Ghost straightens up flicking his cigarette but to the floor. 

“That’s him.” Ghost says, blowing out the smoke before reaching up to pull the familiar balaclava down over his face. 

_____________________

When the police arrive you feel somewhat sober. Your body is sore, your head throbbing. Seeing them walk in with all their gear makes you nervous. All of a sudden you feel like you’ve done something wrong. 

Johnny never leaves your side, he holds your hand stroking it with his thumb while the female officer asks you questions you don’t know how to answer. You still can’t remember what happened. You can piece it together though, you can tell by the hushed voices and the somber looks from people. 

The worst is the pain, the ache in your body every time you move, the bruises hurt the most.  Sometimes Johnny runs his fingers over them, his eyes going dark and he lets out a sigh. John stands at the end of the bed still, his gaze never leaves you unless someone enters the room. You just want to go home. 

The most embarrassing part is when they have to take pictures of your injuries. Your swollen eye is now turning black and blue. There’s bruises around your neck, talking hurts, swallowing’s worse. The nurse gives you more painkillers but it just makes you feel sick. 

John talks with the officers and the nurse after they’re done. Johnny tries to keep your attention on him. You feel embarrassed, the nurse said they did a rape kit, you don’t even remember that, the police need to take it for evidence. That makes silent tears come, you can’t stop them. 

“C’mon, none of that love.” Johnny says reaching up to brush them away. 

“I want to go home,” you sob. 

“We’ll be home soon, promise,” he smiles. You want a shower, you want to scrub your body clean. You feel dirty, your stomach is turning as your mind wanders to the unthinkable. You hope you never remember what happened, you fear you won’t be so lucky.

_____________________

Ghost’s fist meets his cheek, his nose is broken, his jaw will be next. Not now though, now they need him to talk. 

“Price says he’s on his way.” Gaz says as he walks back over to him. “Asked you not to kill him.” Ghost just grunts. 

Ryan, that's his name. You never mentioned that to them, you didn’t mention much just that he was making you uncomfortable. Gaz was right they should have dealt with this sooner. They shouldn’t have let you go to the party alone. Even before you left you had reservations. 

Ryan hasn’t said much. He was very drunk when they picked him up. He seems pretty sober now, he’s scared. 

Good, he should be.

Ghost wonders if you were scared, when you were assaulted. It doesn’t seem like you remember much, for your sake he hopes it stays that way. 

The door to the secluded warehouse opens, the sound of slamming metal echoes in the space. John bought this place a few months ago, used to store scrap metal. The place still smells of rust, but it’s outside the city center, it’s quiet and that's all they need. 

Price walks over coming out of the darkness. He doesn’t say a word, just takes in the scene. Ryan looks up, his eyes glued on the new person walking up to him. Price grabs the back of a chair and places it in front of him before sitting down. 

“Ryan, right?” He asks. The man nods. “Had a good night? He doesn’t move. 

“Do you like your job?” He nods again. Price leans forward. “So, let's have a chat about what happened tonight.” 

“Nothing happened tonight,” he says, swallowing hard. Price smiles at him for a second before sitting back up.

“Let’s try that again. What happened at the party?” Ryan looks confused for a second. Blood is still dripping from his nose, Price sighs this is going to be a long night. 

“Wait, is this all about her?” He asks looking up past Price at Ghost. “Look I don’t know what you think happened but she came onto me.” 

Price hums his hands gripping his thighs before getting up and moving the chair away. “Thing is, I just don’t believe you.” Ghost steps back over to him. 

“I’m telling the truth.” He pleads. 

“Nope, try again.” Price says. Ghost’s fist crashes into Ryans face. His head snaps uncomfortably, he spits blood coughing. 

“So what happened at the party?” Price asks again. 

“Who the fuck even are you!?” He shouts looking round at the 3 men standing in front of him.  

“That doesn’t matter.” Price says, Ryan scoffs spitting again. 

“Why do you care?” He asks, looking around at everyone. 

“It’s a simple question.” Price says bending down so his head is level with his face. “We can be here all night. Or you can be honest with us.” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He says, there’s a shake in his voice. The adrenaline and alcohol pumping through his system is filling him with confidence. They have to break that first. Price sighs moving back to stand with Gaz. 

This time Ghost’s fist slams into his stomach. He buckles over in pain, crying out as he pants. Price doesn’t wait, striding over to him grabbing his hair, pulling his head back. 

“Okay, okay. But she was drunk!” He shouts, trying to fight Price’s grip. His arms and legs are tied to the chair. Price doesn’t let go of his head holding it back as far as it will go. 

“No. Try again.” Price says through gritted teeth. 

“I didn't do anything!” He says between breaths. Price looks up at Ghost and nods, Ghost unfolds his arms going back over to the car. 

“We can make this very uncomfortable for you. All we need is the truth.” Price says, pulling his head again. 

“I don’t know anything.” There’s a whimper in his voice, a crack in his confidence. They're getting there. Price forces his head straight as Ghost comes back over to them twirling the knife in his hand. Ryans eyes go wide, his arms and legs pulling on the restraints. Price keeps his grip firm on his head forcing him to look at Ghost’s hulking figure moving towards him. 

“Last chance.” Price says. Ryan doesn’t say anything, his eyes still locked onto Ghost. 

“I-I didn't-” He sucks in a breath of air swallowing. “She was drunk!” 

Price sighs, shaking his head. He looks up at Ghost, he can see the disgust behind his lieutenants eyes. 

Ghost plunges the knife into his thigh. Price lets go of Rhyn’s head as he screams.

_____________________

John left almost an hour ago. Johnny recommended a bath instead of a shower, so you could soak and warm up. He gets in the bath with you pulling your back up against his chest as you sit between his legs. The bath was a good idea, the water is almost too hot but you don’t mind. 

It feels good to be in Johnny’s arms. He helps you rub soap over your body. He’s gentle, pressing kisses on your shoulders avoiding your neck. You sigh, relaxing back into him. Your head is still stuffy, it feels like you’ve been run over by a truck. 

“Where is everyone?” You ask. 

“Out, they’ll be back soon don’t worry.” He says his voice is warm in your ear. His arms squeeze you closer to him. The memories of the night seem to be just out of reach, you remember a face though. 

“I know who it was,” you say your voice catches in your throat. 

“Shh, we don’t have to talk about it.” His hand comes to push hair behind your ear. You smile, you don’t want to talk about it but maybe it will help. 

“I have work tomorrow.” Your stomach sinks. The thought of going back to that place with him there. Having to spend the days avoiding him, brushing off his hands as they squeeze your ass or his fingers press against your breasts. You were going to talk to your boss about him in the new year. 

“No you don’t, don’t worry about anything.” He says kissing your shoulder again. You shiver, the water has lost its heat. Johnny shifts pushing you forward. 

“C’mon let’s get you into bed. You’ll feel better after a good sleep.” You don’t know if you believe him but he gets out the bath leaving you alone and cold. You feel dirty, used. You feel panic rising in your chest. As soon as you hear the door to the room open you lay down in the tub closing your eyes and holding your breath. 

Your mind goes back to the alley, it’s like flashes in your vision, the dump trash bin you’re uncomfortably bent over. A hand over your mouth then round your neck. The pain, the pain is unbelievable. You don’t remember how it happened, how you ended up there, the next thing you remember is a party of drunk women finding you. Then the paramedics showed up. 

Your lungs burn but you don’t care. You deserve the pain. Hands grip your arms pulling you up out of the water. 

“Christ love,” Johnny says, holding you against him as you pant sucking in breaths of air. The panting turns to sobbing. He reaches, pulling the plug out the bath and picking you up in his arms. 

“I know, love I know.” He takes you into the bedroom putting you down on the bed. You pull your legs up to your chest. Johnny dries you, rubbing you down while you sob. He brings pyjamas over, he helps you change, pulling the fresh clothes on you. You still feel dirty, maybe it will always be like this. You don’t want it to be like this.

“It hurts.” You say as he climbs into bed behind you. His arms wrap around you pulling your back against his chest. 

“You’re okay lass, you’re safe.” He kisses the top of your head. It’s not, it's not going to be okay. You just hope whatever the others are doing they’re safe. You miss them, you want to see them again. You want everything to go back to normal 

…

Simon crawls into the bed with you and Johnny. You’re asleep on Johnny’s chest. He shuffles up against your back wrapping his arm around you both. His hair is still wet from the shower. He kisses the top of your head. Johnny stirs feeling a hand grip his hip. 

“Did you get him?” Johnny asks, his voice still sleepy. 

“Yeah, we got him.” 

_____________________

[monstersflashlight]

Advent calendar: Day 18. Holiday knot

Yeti x fem!reader || semi-public sex, oral sex, knotting

You had a great idea for your anniversary. Since you married your yeti husband, you’d been trying to get him to chase you through the woods, but seeing as it was mid December and the temperatures would probably kill you if you ran naked… You decided to make it special in other ways.

You wore a nice coat, the longest one you had, with extra padding on the inside so you’d be warm no matter what. And under it you wore… almost nothing. You bought the naughty lingerie so long ago you almost forgot you had it, but at the last second you put it on and walked to his office as a normal day. You had dinner with him once a week, always on Wednesdays, and he was always waiting for you.

But this time around you had a bit of a surprise.

You opened the door to his office and closed behind you, making sure the blindfolds were down and the secretary left for her lunch. He was on a call you weren’t too interested in, you could only focus on the feel of the coat against your naked skin and the way your heart was trying to escape from your chest.

Even from afar he was magnificent, giant and furry and so incredibly beautiful in his monster features that you were dripping wet even before he even breathed in your direction. You’d never felt so strongly about any human, but as soon as you met him… you were done for good. Forget human tiny dicks, who wanted that when you could have giant ridged dicks that knotted you until you were dripping cum for hours after?

You were a bit nervous, you knew he’d love your surprise, but you were way past your honeymoon phase and maybe office sex wasn’t on his kink-list… Maybe.

“Well, hello there, wife,” he greeted you in his most cheerful rough voice, making you shiver.

It was now or never.

You slipped the upper part of your coat down your shoulders, exposing the red lingerie framing your tits in the most amazing way. He choked on a breath, and that encouraged you. You let the coat fall to the floor, pooling at your feet as you blinked slowly at him. And you realized the exact moment when he saw the mistletoe adorning your panties.

In a flash, literally the time it took for you to blink, he had jumped over the table and was crowding you, his giant sized body pulling you up and against the door. You shivered in anticipation, his rough breathing matching your accelerated heartbeat.

He bit down on your neck playfully. “You smell like cookies, wife…” He rumbled against your ear. That meant you were excited, that you were aroused, he loved the smell of cookies as much as he loved the smell of your horniness. “You came here wanting to be ravished by a monster?” He teased, his voice amused but his dick very hard under your barely covered ass.

Your nerves got the best of you when you answered: “Really? If you… If you want to...”

He pulled back a fraction, his big white inhuman eyes looking straight into yours, almost shocked when he deadpanned: “Do I want to fuck my wife in my desk? Yes. What kind of question is that?”

“I- I didn’t know if you’d be up for it,” you confessed, feeling shy all of sudden.

“Wife, I’ve wanted to fuck you over that desk since the first time you came to have lunch with me. And you are making my fantasies come true right now, you are the bestest of wives,” he said between soft kisses around your face, making you giggle with his sudden affection.

But it wasn’t all that soft, his dick was pressing insistently against your ass and you wriggled your bottom until he was whimpering, his strong arms holding you up as he walked to the desk and sat you there. He kissed you softly on the lips, and then sat down on his chair, legs open and erection very clear in his slacks. Fuck, he looked good enough to eat with his fur peaking through the buttons of his shirt, sleeves rolled up…

But he was only staring at you, not doing anything. “Aren’t you going to fuck me?” You asked, a bit confused at the situation.

“Oh, yes… I’m definitely going to. But first: lunch.” That was all he said before his face was buried in your pussy as he pushed the panties to the side, not even taking them off.

He devoured your center with desperation, with a hunger so primal and deep that you didn’t know if you would survive. It was the best oral sex ever, and he had just started. He kept grunting and moaning against your sex, his furry face getting messy with your juices as he enjoyed himself. You could only hold onto his hair and pull every time he tried to get a breath in between licks. You didn’t care if he breathed or not, you only needed him against your pussy, his fingers playing dexterously with your clit.

“I’m- I’m gonna…!” You tried to warn, but you were too slow.

The orgasm crashed into you like a tidal wave as your body convulsed over the desk, his hands holding you down as you knocked a few things off the table. He only chuckled against your pussy, probably not caring you were destroying some important documents.

He pulled back, whipping your juices away from his chin and licking his fingers clean. That movement was so hot that you whimpered as he smirked at you. He knew what he was doing.

“Now the main course,” he said, ripping the panties off and pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance. You groaned whorishly and he smirked again, his fangs so big you couldn’t suppress a shiver.

You thought he would push inside in one go, but he chose a tortuous pace, his dick breaching you so slowly and thoroughly that you could feel him everywhere at once. His hands were on your boobs, on your ass, on your clit… And his dick kept going deeper and deeper. Your brain was barely functioning at that point, not caring about the noise of the possibility of someone finding you. You could only focus on the way he felt against you.

But once he bottomed out, there was no place for soft sex anymore. He started a rough pace, fucking in and out of you with the desperation of a husband in his anniversary. With the desperation of a yeti who found his mate in the middle of a big city. With the hunger of a monster in need of his bride. And you ate it up, matching his noises and groans, moving against his body until you were both sweaty and your lingerie was probably beyond repair.

But you didn’t fucking care.

It felt so good. It felt too good.

“I’m going to knot you,” he warned.

“But we- Someone could...” you tried to argue without much strength. You wanted it. You wanted it more than anything. You needed it like you needed breathing.

“Let them,” he grunted. The rough tone and the way his dick hit your G-spot just right at the same time his thumb rubbed your clit was enough to send you over the edge once again. “Fuck, so tight, so good…”

He kept chanting how good your pussy was when you felt the erratic thrusts and the beginning of his knot at your entrance. He pushed one last time before it fully developed inside of you, locking you two together as he came over and over inside your welcoming heat.

His body was holding you down as you breathed calmly, his dick still twitching inside of you as he kept coming and coming. You knew this would take a while, and you were more than content to just wait it out. It felt great to have him inside, almost like cockwarming but… bigger. Maybe you should try cockwarming next.

“Stop thinking so hard,” he complained against your neck, landing a few soft kisses and scratching you with his fangs, making you shiver.

By the time his knot went down, you felt almost coherent again, but when you got up and felt the first gush of cum out of you, you were already thinking if he could fuck you again soon. You were about to tease him to get a rise out of him when he beat you to it.

“Are you going to walk back home with my cum leaking down your tights?” He asked as you put your coat back on, hiding your body from him. There was an edge to his voice that you couldn’t quite place.

“I’m going to the car and then I’ll drive home,” you explained, a smirk on your lips when you realized what he wanted. “Do you want me to plug myself and wait until you get home?” You asked back, a blush covering your cheeks as his eyes turned big, his dick filling inside his slacks once more.

“Fuck. Yes,” he groaned. “I’d be there as soon as possible, I just have one meeting.”

“Don’t be late or I’ll start without you, I bought a new toy…” You commented before closing the door, laughing when you heard the curse behind you.

You didn’t get to the elevator before his big body was hoisting you up between giggles and walking to the stairs with you over his shoulder. “Forget the meeting, forget the elevator, I need you in our bed ASAP,” he roared as you laughed.

[rafecameronssl4t]

For me? || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Glass onion inspired when Whisky goes to Miles because her boyfriend Duke asks her to but they already have something going on between them.

Warnings: r uses her body to get Topper what he wants, infidelity, suggestive content

Word count: 1,936

A/n: glass onion is definitely in my top 5 movies I love 😭

MASTERLIST

Your fingers curl around Rafe’s wrist, tugging him toward the house, your movements quick and purposeful. The murmur of voices in the background fades as you enter, but one presence in particular stands out—Topper, leaning casually against the entryway, his expression hard, his eyes following you with a calculating intensity.

His words from earlier echo in your mind, their weight hanging heavy between you two. “You know what I’m asking. Just... talk to him again. Do what you have to do.” You’d replayed Topper’s plea in your head countless times, the way he’d lowered his voice, almost pleading, as he suggested you get closer to Rafe—his boss—convincing him to finally give Topper the promotion he’s been after for months.

It was a bitter pill to swallow, the thought of using your body to manipulate Rafe for Topper’s benefit, but you were already caught in the web, and here you were, carrying out the plan. Topper says nothing as you pass, but the look in his eyes—a mixture of calculation and expectation—burns into your back. You offer him a curt nod, more out of habit than a willingness to comply, before redirecting your focus to Rafe, who’s watching you with an almost predatory interest, his smirk tugging at his lips.

Rafe follows you, his presence closing in behind you like a shadow, and his eyes flicker with amusement as you guide him into the room. His voice is thick with arrogance as he speaks, the challenge clear in his tone. “Right now? You sure?” He steps closer, his hands finding your hips with a teasing pressure. His eyes move unapologetically up and down your body, pausing at the curves of your waist before he lets out a low chuckle.

“What’s the rush? Your little boyfriend’s still out there, isn’t he?” You roll your eyes, playing the part as you’ve done before. This wasn’t the first time Topper had asked you to sleep with Rafe, after all. It was a game you were tired of playing, but the rewards were clear. Rafe never failed to satisfy, and Topper always got what he wanted in the end. “Uh-huh, right now,” you reply, your tone sharp but confident, cutting through his mockery.

Rafe’s smirk deepens, eyes gleaming with a knowing glint. He wasn’t stupid—he’d caught on quickly. The first time you’d done this, he’d been skeptical, unsure of your motives. But it hadn’t taken long before he was hooked, and honestly, neither of you had any intention of stopping. “Well,” he says, a low whistle escaping his lips as his hands move to your waist, his fingers tightening just enough to pull you closer, “whatever you want, pretty girl."

His voice drips with amusement, as if he’s indulging you—and maybe himself—at the same time. Without waiting for a response, Rafe’s hand slips from your waist to press firmly against the small of your back, guiding you toward the bed. The door shuts behind you with a soft click, and for a moment, it’s just the two of you, the air thick with tension.

You push him onto the mattress, the movement swift and confident, and without hesitation, you climb onto his lap, straddling his hips, your top slipping off in one smooth motion. His hands find your waist again, his thumbs tracing lazy circles against your bare skin as his eyes lock onto yours. “You’re full of surprises tonight,” he murmurs, his voice low and gravelly, sending a rush of heat through you.

You smile down at him, a teasing glint in your eyes. “Just felt like being close to you, Mr. Cameron,” you murmur, resting your hands against his chest. There’s no denying it—after all the nights spent together, after the passion and intensity that marked each encounter, it was hard not to catch feelings. You’d tried to push them down, tried to keep it business as usual, but Rafe had a way of making it impossible to remain detached.

Rafe chuckles, but his eyes narrow with suspicion, as if he can see right through the act. “Close to me, huh?” he muses, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Or is this about Topper?” His grin widens, clearly amused by his own thoughts, but before you can reply, he shakes his head, a soft laugh escaping him. “You know, I’ve already given him the second-best office in the building. What more does he want?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at his comment, a playful smile tugging at your lips as your fingers trace the collar of his shirt. “He just wants that promotion real bad, baby,” you say, your voice light and teasing as you lean down just enough to close the space between you. “He’s been working his ass off, you know.”

Rafe’s laugh rumbles beneath you, a sound that vibrates against your chest, and his hands slide down to grip your waist with an almost possessive force. “Working his ass off, huh?” he repeats mockingly, his smirk unfaltering. “And sending you in here to convince me, huh? That’s dedication.” You grin, meeting his eyes with a mixture of playfulness and something darker.

“But hey, I’m not complaining,” Rafe adds, his hands gripping your ass firmly, fingers digging into the soft flesh as his eyes never leave yours. You bite your lip lightly, feeling the heat building between you both, and Rafe hums beneath you, tilting his head slightly as his fingers dig into your sides. He pulls you closer, his body pressing firmly against yours. “If this is his idea of a plan,” he says, voice thick with amusement, “I gotta say, it’s not the worst one.”

A wicked grin spreads across his face, and his eyes gleam with something darker now—something that tells you he’s enjoying the control, the power he has over you. “But if you keep this up babe,” he warns, “I might just forget all about Topper’s promotion.” You laugh softly, though your pulse quickens at the intensity in his eyes.

“Guess we’ll see how good my persuasion skills are, then,” you reply, your voice hushed with anticipation, feeling the electric charge between you as you lean in for another kiss, your body pressing fully against his.

~

"So, will you do it? Give him the promotion?" The question slips from your lips as you prop yourself up on your forearms, your gaze locked on Rafe as he slides into his boxers, a casual motion that betrays nothing of the tension in the room. His smirk is as infuriating as it is irresistible, his eyes glinting with a knowing amusement that makes your chest tighten. He chuckles softly, the sound low and teasing, as he moves toward you, the air between you two heavy with something unspoken.

“I’ll think about it,” Rafe replies, his tone dripping with sarcasm but layered with something you can’t quite place. He lingers in front of you, his face so close that you can feel the heat radiating off him. For a moment, the air between you feels heavier, quieter, the world outside his room fading into irrelevance. His piercing blue eyes lock onto yours, searching, as if trying to unearth something buried deep within you.

“What?” you ask, chuckling softly, trying to ease the tension. Rafe’s lips twitch into a small smirk, his gaze flickering down to your mouth before he shrugs, his voice low and teasing. “Nothin’.” Before you can question him further, he leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your lips—a fleeting touch that leaves you momentarily breathless. He pulls back just as quickly, a boyish grin spreading across his face, like he knows exactly the effect he has on you.

You narrow your eyes at him, raising a brow in mock suspicion. “What are you smiling about?” “Nothing,” he repeats, though the mischievous gleam in his eyes betrays him. You shake your head slightly, unable to help the small smile that tugs at your lips, before sliding out of bed and gathering your clothes.

As you start getting dressed, Rafe’s gaze doesn’t waver, his eyes following your every movement. He leans back against the headboard, arms crossed over his chest, the satisfied smirk never leaving his face. “You good?” he asks, a chuckle rumbling low in his throat as he notices you limping slightly toward the door.

“Just sore,” you mutter, throwing a glance over your shoulder. His grin widens at your admission, his eyes lighting up with smug satisfaction. The way he looks at you—like he knows exactly what he’s done—sends a heat crawling up your neck. “You’re welcome,” he says casually, the arrogance in his tone unmistakable. You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile as you open the door. “Don’t let it go to your head, Cameron.”

“Too late,” he fires back, reclining further into the bed with a cocky grin, his eyes trailing after you as you disappear down the hallway. The door clicks softly behind you as you step into the dimly lit hallway, letting out a small, shaky breath. The quiet feels short-lived, a fragile reprieve from the storm brewing outside of Rafe’s room. You barely take a step forward when Topper suddenly appears in front of you, his face shadowed but unmistakably tense.

“What did he say?” His voice is sharp and demanding, startling you so much that your hand flies to your chest in an attempt to steady your racing heartbeat. “Fuck, Top!” you exclaim, your voice pitched with a mix of irritation and lingering adrenaline. “Don’t scare me like that!” You swat at his chest in frustration, but he doesn’t even flinch. His face remains stone-cold, his eyes burning with impatience.

“What. Did. Rafe. Say?” he asks again, his tone slower now but no less intense, every word laced with a simmering urgency that makes your stomach twist. You blink at him, struggling to find the right words, knowing he’s not going to like what you have to say. “He, uh… said he’ll think about it,” you murmur, the hesitance in your voice betraying the slight embarrassment you feel admitting it. You move to brush past him, hoping to avoid the explosion you sense is coming.

But Topper grabs your arm, his grip firm and unrelenting, forcing you to stop. The touch isn’t painful, but it carries a weight that feels heavier than it should. “What the fuck do you mean, ‘he’ll think about it’?” His voice rises, echoing faintly down the empty hallway, his frustration spilling out in sharp, jagged tones.

You yank your arm out of his grasp, stepping back just enough to put space between you. Your eyebrows knit together as you glare up at him, the tension between you sparking like a live wire. “Exactly what I said,” you bite back, your tone sharpening to match his. “He’ll think about it. That’s all he said, so maybe you should go ask him yourself if you’re so desperate for answers.”

Topper scoffs, the sound low and dripping with contempt as his jaw tightens. He rolls his tongue against the inside of his cheek, a gesture you’ve seen countless times before—one that usually comes before he says something he’ll regret. The weight of his stare makes your skin crawl, and you can’t help but feel the suffocating pressure of his disappointment. He doesn’t care how uncomfortable this all is for you, how humiliating it feels to play this game on his behalf. To him, you’re just the means to an end—a pawn in his ambition.

“You’re useless,” Topper mutters under his breath, his words laced with venom as he shakes his head. Your eyes narrow, and you take a step closer to him, refusing to let him get the last word. “You know what’s useless, Topper? You thinking you can send me in there to clean up your mess every time something doesn’t go your way. Maybe if you weren’t so desperate, Rafe would’ve already given you what you want,” you snap, the heat in your voice catching him off guard.

For a moment, Topper falters, his face flashing with something between anger and guilt. But just as quickly, his expression hardens again. “I’m doing this for us,” he says through gritted teeth, his voice lowering. “Us?” you scoff, crossing your arms over your chest as you glare at him. “Don’t pretend this is about me. You only care about that promotion. Don’t act like I’m the one who owes you anything.”

Topper’s silence is deafening, his jaw working furiously as if he’s holding back a response. Without another word, you turn and walk away, your heart pounding as the sound of your heels clicks against the hardwood floor.

~

“I’m comin’!” Rafe’s voice echoes through the house, casual and annoyed as he makes his way to the front door. He swings it open, expecting anything but you standing there. His brows raise slightly, surprise flickering across his face. “Y/n?” he says, leaning against the doorframe, that trademark smirk already tugging at his lips. “Back so soon? What does Topper want now—”

You don’t give him the chance to finish. Without hesitation, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him down, pressing your lips to his in a heated kiss. His words die in his throat, replaced by a soft grunt of surprise that quickly turns into amusement.

“Shut up,” you murmur against his lips, barely pulling away before moving to brush kisses along his jawline. Your voice is low and breathy as you add, “Topper didn’t send me.”“Oh?” Rafe smirks, his voice dropping into that teasing, cocky tone that always gets under your skin. His hands slide down to your hips, his fingers gripping you firmly, pulling you closer to him. “So what, you missed me already?”

You roll your eyes, though your lips curve into a small smile against his skin. “Something like that,” you reply, tilting your head just enough to look up at him. Rafe chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest as he steps back, tugging you inside by your waist and letting the door shut behind you. His smirk deepens as he studies you, the playful glint in his eyes growing darker. “So, if you’re not here to play messenger, what’s the occasion, huh?”

You let out a soft laugh, your hands moving to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair as you tug him down to meet your gaze. “Does there always have to be a reason?” you tease, arching a brow. Rafe’s hands tighten their hold on your hips, his grin widening as he leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Not when it comes to you, baby,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine.

[sonarspace]

⋆⁺₊ HOLLY, JOLLY, SINFUL

꒰ synopsis. where the krampus you feared is far from the monster in the stories, and santa isn’t the saint you thought he was.

content. santa/krampus au. sukuna x fem!reader. nsfw. rough sēx, orāl (f! receiving), hair pulling, multiple orgāsms, size kink, and possessive sukuna.

wc. 6k

an. a little spin on a christmas tale, i hope you guys like it. happy early christmas to those who celebrate <3

the north pole buzzed with a frenzy unlike any december before. the workshop, usually a well-oiled machine of holiday cheer, was on the brink of chaos. elves darted across the floor, their faces pale, their hands trembling as they struggled to stay productive amidst the rising tension.

toys had disappeared. not just a few, but sleighs worth of carefully crafted gifts, all set to be delivered to children across the world.

“gone,” whispered a senior elf, his voice trembling as he held up an empty inventory list. “every last one.”

“how could this happen?” another elf demanded, their voice sharp with fear. “no one gets past santa’s wards. no one.”

you worked silently, sorting a batch of unfinished trains, though your hands trembled as much as theirs. the tension in the room was suffocating, each whispered fear clawing at the edges of your composure.

you weren’t the most experienced elf—far from it—but even you could sense the weight of what had happened. christmas wasn’t just a season; it was magic, a promise of joy to the world. and without the toys, that magic would crumble.

“it’s him,” someone whispered behind you, their voice low and ominous. “krampus.”

the name hung in the air like a curse.

you’d heard the stories growing up, tales of a monstrous being who lived in the frozen expanse of the south pole. krampus, they said, was the shadow of christmas, a creature who thrived on misery and chaos. his four arms were said to be lined with claws, his horns sharp enough to pierce steel.

but no one believed the stories. not really.

until now.

the grand hall was quieter than you’d ever heard it.

rows of elves stood shoulder to shoulder, their faces illuminated by the warm glow of the towering christmas tree. despite the festive decorations, the atmosphere was heavy, the usual cheer replaced by unease.

santa stood at the head of the room, his crimson coat gleaming in the firelight. his sharp crimson eyes swept over the crowd, and the tension in the room seemed to deepen.

“this was no accident,” santa said, his voice cutting through the silence. “the toys have been stolen. and the wards around the north pole have been breached.”

a ripple of shock ran through the crowd.

“krampus has made his move,” santa continued. “and if we don’t act quickly, christmas will be ruined.”

the whispers began again, this time louder, more frantic.

“he’s real?” someone asked, their voice tinged with disbelief.

“of course he’s real,” another snapped. “who else could have done this?”

you stayed silent, your heart pounding as santa’s words sank in.

“we must retrieve the gifts,” santa said. “but the south pole is treacherous, and krampus is no ordinary foe. this will require courage—and skill.”

his gaze swept over the crowd again, lingering on the senior elves who avoided his eyes.

“who will go?”

the room fell silent.

your hands clenched into fists.

you could feel the weight of your fellow elves’ fear, their unwillingness to step forward. the journey would be dangerous, and the thought of facing krampus—the supposed monster of legend—was enough to send even the bravest elves into hiding.

but as the silence stretched on, something inside you stirred.

if no one else would act, then who would?

before you could second-guess yourself, you stepped forward.

“i’ll do it.”

the words rang out in the hall, louder than you’d expected.

all eyes turned to you, a mix of admiration, surprise, and doubt flickering in their gazes.

santa’s sharp gaze settled on you, his expression unreadable.

“you’re brave,” he said after a moment, his tone even. “but this will not be easy.”

“i can handle it,” you said, forcing your voice to remain steady.

before santa could respond, the air changed.

a sudden chill swept through the hall, snuffing out the candles in an instant. the elves gasped, their breath visible in the freezing air.

the temperature plummeted, and an unnatural wind began to swirl, carrying with it a deep, mocking laugh.

“so this is the great north pole,” a voice boomed, the sound reverberating through the hall like thunder. it was smooth and resonant, laced with cruel amusement.

“weak, fragile, desperate,” the voice continued. “you send a mere elf to face me? is that the best you can do, kenjaku?”

the air seemed to pulse with the weight of the voice, a presence you could feel but not see.

you glanced at santa, your confusion growing. kenjaku? who was that?

“show yourself, krampus,” santa growled, his jaw tightening.

the voice laughed again, colder this time.

“you’d like that, wouldn’t you? but no, not yet,” krampus said, his tone dripping with mockery. “come to me, kenjaku. or are you too much of a coward to face what you stole?”

the words hung in the air, heavy with implication.

santa’s expression darkened, his crimson eyes narrowing.

“i’ll come,” he said finally, his voice tight with restrained anger.

the meeting ended in a flurry of nervous energy. elves whispered among themselves, their voices rising and falling like waves as they tried to make sense of what they’d just heard.

you stayed behind, packing supplies for the journey. the staff santa had given you—infused with ancient christmas magic—felt warm in your hands, a faint glow emanating from its carved surface.

“are you sure about this?” one of the senior elves asked, their voice hesitant as they approached you.

“i don’t have a choice,” you replied, your voice firm. “someone has to do it.”

they nodded, though their expression remained troubled. “be careful,” they said before turning to leave.

you glanced at santa, who stood by the fire, his gaze distant. his usual commanding presence felt… strained, as though the weight of krampus’s words had unsettled him.

you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to the story—something he wasn’t telling you.

but there was no time to dwell on it. the journey to the south pole awaited, and whatever lay ahead, you would face it head-on.

the journey to the south pole was grueling.

the snow felt sharper here, more like shards of glass than soft flakes. the bitter cold seemed to seep through every layer of clothing, chilling you to your bones. this wasn’t like the north pole—the light, the cheer, the magic. this place felt… wrong.

santa led the way, his crimson coat stark against the endless expanse of gray and white. the silence between you was heavy, broken only by the crunch of snow underfoot and the howling wind.

“are we close?” you asked, gripping your staff tightly as its faint glow pulsed in your hand.

“closer than i’d like,” santa replied, his tone clipped.

you frowned. his usual steady demeanor felt off. there was none of the quiet confidence you’d grown used to—just tension, coiled and sharp.

“what is this place?” you pressed, glancing at the jagged ice formations jutting out of the ground like broken glass.

“krampus’s domain,” santa said. “his influence twists the land. the closer we get, the more dangerous it becomes.”

a shiver ran down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

the attack came without warning.

the ground trembled beneath your feet, the snow cracking and shifting as shadowy figures emerged from the storm.

“what’s that?” you asked, panic rising in your chest.

“bandits,” santa said sharply, his hand tightening around his staff.

before you could respond, they were upon you. their movements were quick and unnatural, their jagged weapons carved from ice glinting in the dim light.

“stay close,” santa ordered.

you raised your staff, its glow flaring as the first bandit lunged toward you. the magic coursed through you, sending a pulse of energy that knocked them back.

but there were too many.

you swung the staff again, the force of the blow sending another bandit sprawling into the snow. but for every one you struck down, two more seemed to take their place.

a sharp blow to your side sent you stumbling, the staff slipping from your grasp. you fell to your knees, gasping for breath as pain radiated through your ribs.

“help me!” you shouted, turning to santa.

but he wasn’t there.

your heart sank as you scanned the storm, the wind tearing at your cloak. “santa!” you called again, desperation rising in your voice.

there was no answer.

the bandits closed in, their twisted faces leering down at you.

“still breathing, are you?”

the voice was deep, smooth, and laced with a hint of amusement.

you blinked, your vision blurry as the storm raged around you. a figure crouched beside you, his sharp features coming into focus as the wind whipped through his wild, pink hair.

“who…” you croaked, your voice barely audible.

“relax,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind.

he leaned closer, his crimson eyes scanning your face with an intensity that made your heart stutter.

“bandits,” he muttered, glancing at the torn fabric of your cloak. “you’re lucky they didn’t finish the job.”

before you could respond, he slipped a thick cloak around your trembling form, his four arms moving with surprising gentleness.

“can you stand?” he asked.

you shook your head weakly, your body refusing to cooperate.

“figured as much,” he said with a faint smirk.

before you could protest, he lifted you effortlessly, cradling you against his chest. the warmth of his skin seeped through the layers of fabric, and you found yourself leaning into him, unable to resist.

“who are you?” you asked weakly.

“someone who doesn’t leave people to die in the snow,” he replied dryly.

the warmth of his shelter was a shock after the brutal cold outside.

he set you down on a plush couch near the fire, his movements careful as he adjusted the blanket around your shoulders.

“drink this,” he said, handing you a steaming mug.

the spiced cider was rich and warm, flooding your senses with comfort. you sipped it cautiously, watching as he crouched beside you.

“what were you doing out there?” he asked, his crimson eyes sharp and searching.

you hesitated, glancing down at the mug in your hands. “you wouldn’t believe me if i told you.”

his lips curved into a faint smirk. “try me.”

you swallowed hard, trying to gather your thoughts. “i came here with santa claus,” you began hesitantly, watching his reaction.

his eyes widened slightly, but not with disbelief. there was something else in his gaze—an intensity you couldn’t quite place, as if he were seeing you for the first time.

you felt the need to explain, to justify yourself. “i know it sounds ridiculous,” you said quickly, the words tumbling out. “but… santa claus is real. he exists for those who choose to believe in him.”

to your surprise, his expression softened. the smirk faded, replaced by something quieter, almost contemplative.

“and you believe,” he said, his tone calm.

“i do,” you admitted. “it’s not just about the toys or the magic. it’s about hope. about believing that even in the darkest times, there’s something good in the world.”

he nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving yours. “a rare thing, these days,” he said quietly.

his reaction surprised you. instead of mockery, there was understanding in his gaze, a warmth that made your chest tighten.

“so, you’re here with him,” he said after a moment.

“yes,” you replied. “santa sent me to find krampus and retrieve the stolen gifts.”

his eyes darkened slightly, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than felt natural. it wasn’t skepticism or anger—it was something deeper, more intense.

how could kenjaku have someone like you by his side? your quiet strength, your rare beauty, your unwavering belief in something so pure. the thought ignited something sharp and bitter in his chest.

you shifted under his gaze, mistaking his silence for doubt. “i know it sounds ridiculous,” you said quickly, your voice trembling slightly. “but i promise, it’s real. everything—santa, the north pole, the magic—it’s all real.”

“i don’t think it’s ridiculous,” he said, interrupting you gently.

you blinked, caught off guard. “you don’t?”

his lips curved into a faint, almost wistful smile. “not at all,” he said, his voice low. “some things are worth believing in, even if the rest of the world doesn’t understand.”

his words lingered in the air between you, and for a moment, the storm outside seemed to fade into the background.

“you’re not what i expected,” he said finally, his voice softer now.

neither was he.

the storm outside had grown fiercer, the wind howling against the walls of the shelter as if the very land were angry. inside, the fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows across the room.

you watched your rescuer as he paced near the hearth, his crimson eyes glowing faintly in the firelight. the tension in his movements was palpable, his four arms crossing and uncrossing as if he were fighting an internal battle.

“so,” he said, breaking the silence. “you came here with kenjaku.”

you frowned. “who?”

his gaze snapped to yours, sharp and incredulous. “kenjaku,” he repeated, his tone laced with disdain. “the man you call santa claus.”

your stomach twisted at his words, the weight of the name unfamiliar and wrong. “that’s not his name,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“it is,” he said firmly, stepping closer. “you’ve been lied to.”

you opened your mouth to argue, but the intensity in his gaze silenced you. there was no mockery, no smugness—only a simmering anger that made your breath catch.

“you don’t know, do you?” he asked, his voice dropping lower, softer. “what he’s done.”

“what are you talking about?” you said, your chest tightening as the weight of his words pressed down on you.

he sighed, running a hand through his pink hair, his tattoos glowing faintly as his anger simmered just beneath the surface.

“centuries ago,” he began, his voice steady but edged with bitterness, “i was chosen to bear the mantle of santa claus. the magic of christmas—the ancient power that keeps this world in balance—was mine by right. but kenjaku didn’t think i was fit for the role. he wanted it for himself.”

you stared at him, your mind reeling as his words sank in.

“he used forbidden magic,” sukuna continued, his voice darkening, “to seal me here, in the south pole. he took everything from me—my title, my power, my purpose—and left me to rot in this frozen wasteland.”

the crackle of the fire was the only sound as his words hung in the air, heavy and sharp.

“and now he sends you,” he said, his gaze narrowing. “to clean up his mess.”

“that’s not true,” you said, though your voice wavered. “he wouldn’t…”

“wouldn’t he?” sukuna interrupted, stepping closer. “then tell me, where is he now? why did he leave you to die?”

the question hit like a blow, the memory of the bandits and kenjaku’s disappearance flashing in your mind.

“maybe he had no choice,” you said weakly, though even you didn’t believe the words.

sukuna snorted, his expression twisting into a bitter smile. “you’re too kind for your own good.”

you looked away, the weight of his gaze too much to bear.

“you still don’t get it, do you?” he said, his voice softer now, almost gentle. “he’s been using you. just like he uses everyone else.”

the sound of approaching footsteps shattered the silence.

sukuna stiffened, his tattoos glowing brighter as he turned toward the door. his crimson eyes burned with anger, his four arms flexing as he prepared for what was coming.

“stay here,” he said, his voice low and commanding.

before you could respond, the door burst open, a gust of icy wind swirling into the room.

and there, standing in the doorway, was kenjaku—santa claus.

“so this is where you’ve been hiding,” kenjaku said, his voice smooth, almost amused.

sukuna’s growl rumbled through the room like distant thunder. “you’ve got some nerve showing your face here.”

kenjaku stepped inside, his crimson coat gleaming in the firelight. his gaze swept over the room, lingering on you for a moment before returning to sukuna.

“you always were dramatic,” kenjaku said, his tone sharp.

“and you always were a liar,” sukuna shot back, his voice venomous.

you stood frozen, your heart pounding as the tension between them crackled like static electricity.

“why did you leave me?” you demanded, your voice cutting through the standoff.

kenjaku’s gaze softened, though there was something calculating in his expression. “i had no choice,” he said smoothly. “the bandits were too many. if i’d stayed, we both would have died.”

“that’s bullshit,” sukuna spat, stepping forward. “you left her because she wasn’t worth the effort to you.”

“don’t listen to him,” kenjaku said, his voice soothing as he turned to you. “he’s krampus. he’s the reason we’re in this mess.”

“and you’re the reason she almost died,” sukuna growled, his voice low and dangerous.

kenjaku ignored him, his focus entirely on you. “he’s manipulating you,” he said, his tone firm but calm. “he wants you to trust him so he can use you against me.”

you hesitated, your gaze flickering between them.

“don’t listen to him,” sukuna said, his eyes burning as he looked at you. “you know the truth.”

you took a deep breath, the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

“you left me to die,” you said to kenjaku, your voice steady despite the tremor in your chest. “he didn’t.”

kenjaku’s expression faltered, the first crack in his calm facade.

“you don’t understand,” he began, but you didn’t let him finish.

raising your staff, you stepped closer to sukuna, the magic within it surging as you made your choice.

“she’s not yours to manipulate,” sukuna snarled, stepping in front of you as kenjaku’s face twisted in rage.

the fight was chaos.

magic crackled through the air, the room trembling as sukuna and kenjaku clashed. sukuna moved with raw power, his four arms striking with precision as his tattoos glowed with unrestrained energy. kenjaku countered with sharp, calculated attacks, his crimson coat billowing around him as he fought with a ruthless efficiency.

you held your ground, the staff in your hands glowing as you channeled your own magic. when kenjaku’s attacks threatened to overwhelm sukuna, you stepped in, the power of the north pole surging through you as you deflected the blows.

“stay out of this!” kenjaku snapped, his voice rising in frustration.

“no,” you said firmly, your gaze steady. “i’m done following your orders.”

sukuna smirked, his gaze flickering to you briefly before returning to kenjaku. “looks like you’ve lost your grip,” he taunted.

kenjaku roared, his attacks growing wilder, more desperate. but together, you and sukuna were unstoppable—a force that even the self-proclaimed santa couldn’t overcome.

the clash reached its peak with a deafening explosion of magic. sparks of crimson and gold danced through the air as sukuna’s raw power collided with kenjaku’s calculated strikes. the very walls of the shelter trembled under the weight of their battle, cracks snaking along the icy structure.

you gripped the staff tightly, its glow steady in your hands as you prepared to deflect another attack aimed at sukuna.

“is that all you’ve got?” sukuna snarled, his four arms moving with devastating precision as he sent a powerful strike toward kenjaku.

kenjaku staggered, his crimson coat scorched and torn, his sharp features twisted in frustration. his usual smug confidence had begun to falter, his attacks growing more desperate.

“this isn’t over,” kenjaku hissed, his voice laced with venom as he stepped back, his hands crackling with dark magic.

“oh, it is,” sukuna growled, his tattoos glowing brighter as he advanced. “you’re done hiding behind lies, kenjaku.”

you stepped forward, raising your staff. the magic within it surged, intertwining with sukuna’s energy as you sent a pulse of light toward kenjaku.

he barely had time to deflect it before sukuna was upon him, his fists slamming into kenjaku’s barrier with enough force to shatter it. the power of the strike sent kenjaku flying backward, crashing into the icy wall with a thunderous crack.

kenjaku struggled to rise, his movements slow and unsteady. his crimson eyes burned with rage as he glared at you and sukuna.

“you think this changes anything?” he spat, his voice trembling with anger. “you think you can take my place?”

“it was never your place to begin with,” sukuna said coldly, stepping forward.

you watched as sukuna loomed over kenjaku, his presence dominating the room. for a moment, you thought he might strike the final blow, but instead, he stepped back, his crimson eyes narrowing.

“you’re not worth it,” sukuna said, his voice low and sharp. “but you’re finished. you’ll never hold the mantle again.”

with a flick of his hand, sukuna unleashed a burst of energy that sent kenjaku hurtling out of the shelter and into the storm. the force of it was so immense that the very air seemed to ripple, the storm outside swallowing kenjaku whole.

silence followed, broken only by the crackle of the fire.

you lowered the staff, your hands trembling as the adrenaline began to fade.

“is it over?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

sukuna turned to you, his expression softer than you’d ever seen it. “it’s over,” he said, his voice steady.

the tension in your chest eased, and you sank onto the couch, exhaustion washing over you.

sukuna moved to the hearth, his four arms lowering as the glow of his tattoos dimmed. he leaned against the wall, his crimson eyes watching you closely.

“you fought well,” he said after a moment, his tone quiet.

“so did you,” you replied, offering him a small, tired smile.

his lips twitched into a faint smirk, though there was a warmth in his gaze that made your cheeks flush.

the journey back to the north pole was a blur of ice and wind, but this time, you weren’t alone.

sukuna walked beside you, his presence steady and protective. he carried the stolen gifts in a large sack slung over his shoulder, his four arms making the burden look effortless.

when you finally crossed the threshold of the north pole, the light and magic of the workshop washed over you like a wave. elves gathered in the grand hall, their faces alight with relief and joy as they saw the gifts restored.

but their excitement faltered when they saw sukuna. whispers rippled through the crowd, their eyes wide with fear and uncertainty.

“it’s okay,” you said, stepping forward. “he’s not our enemy.”

santa’s empty throne loomed at the head of the room, and sukuna’s gaze lingered on it, his expression unreadable.

“it’s yours now,” you said softly, your voice carrying only to him.

he glanced at you, his crimson eyes narrowing. “you think they’ll accept me?”

“they will,” you said, your voice firm. “because they’ll see what i see.”

his lips curved into a faint smile, and he stepped forward, his presence commanding as he approached the throne.

when he sat, the air seemed to shift, the ancient magic of christmas surging through the hall. the elves stared in awe as the throne’s glow brightened, its magic recognizing sukuna as the rightful santa.

the days that followed were a whirlwind of activity as christmas was saved and the gifts delivered. but when it was all over, and the workshop quieted for the long rest of the year, sukuna sought you out.

he found you in the quiet of your room, the glow of the north pole’s lights filtering through the window.

“come with me,” he said, his voice low and inviting.

you followed him without hesitation, his presence drawing you in like a magnet. he led you to his chambers—his now, as the new santa. the room was warm and inviting, the fire crackling softly in the hearth.

“you saved me,” he said, turning to face you. his crimson eyes softened, his tattoos glowing faintly in the dim light. “you trusted me when no one else would.”

“you deserved it,” you said quietly.

he stepped closer, his four arms wrapping around you as his lips curved into a smirk. “and now, i intend to thank you properly.”

the air between you seemed to hum with energy, his gaze locking onto yours as the distance between you disappeared.

his chambers were steeped in a heavy, intoxicating warmth, the flickering firelight reflecting off the deep crimson furnishings and casting shadows that seemed to breathe with the rhythm of the room. the air itself felt alive, humming with a raw energy that matched the man standing before you.

sukuna leaned casually against the ornate four-poster bed, his broad shoulders and muscular arms giving the impression of effortless power. his crimson eyes burned with an intensity that pinned you in place, their sharpness softened only slightly by the faint curl of his lips.

“you don’t need to stand there like a nervous little rabbit,” he said, his voice low and teasing, a delicious rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. “come here.”

the way he said it—smooth and commanding, with a promise of something that made your stomach flutter—left you no choice but to obey.

you stepped closer, your heart pounding with each step, until you were standing in front of him.

“you saved christmas,” he murmured, his gaze locking onto yours as his four arms moved to surround you. the first hand slid to your waist, his grip firm but not overbearing, while another rested gently on the small of your back, pulling you closer. “and more than that… you saved me.”

“i didn’t do it alone,” you replied, your voice a whisper under the weight of his attention.

he tilted his head, strands of soft pink hair falling into his face as his smirk widened. his thumb traced lazily over your cheek, the pad of it brushing just beneath your lips, lingering like he was daring you to take a bite. “always so modest,” he murmured, voice like velvet dragged over steel. “but tonight isn’t about me. it’s about you.”

his words settled low in your stomach, molten and heavy, and before you could think to reply, his lips were on yours.

the kiss wasn’t gentle. sukuna didn’t ask—he took. his mouth moved over yours with a slow, deliberate hunger that left no room for hesitation. his tongue brushed against your bottom lip before sliding inside, tasting you, claiming you with a heat that left you lightheaded.

his hands—strong, calloused, and just the right amount of rough—moved without direction, as if instinct alone drove them. one slid up the bare skin of your back, tugging you against him until there wasn’t an inch of space left between you. another drifted lower, fingers curving to squeeze your thigh, pulling it higher against his hip.

the third tangled into your hair, twisting at the roots with just enough pressure to make you whimper against his mouth. the way he touched you—too many hands, too much strength—left you dizzy and burning.

“fuck,” he muttered, pulling back just enough to catch your lower lip between his teeth, giving it a playful tug before releasing you. his voice was husky, breath ragged, but his smirk never faded. “already trembling?”

“maybe you should do something about it,” you shot back, though your voice barely rose above a whisper.

his gaze flicked over you, crimson eyes glinting with something darker.

“oh, i intend to.”

before you could react, sukuna swept you up—two hands beneath your thighs, one cradling your back, the last trailing teasingly down your spine. he carried you toward the bed like you weighed nothing, the heat of his body seeping through every layer between you.

when he dropped you onto the plush sheets, he hovered at the edge of the bed, gaze raking over you with the kind of attention that left your skin flushed.

“strip.”

the single word hung heavy in the air, rasping low and deep, more command than request.

your fingers trembled as you pulled at the fabric, peeling away each layer under his watchful eyes.

by the time the last piece fell to the floor, sukuna knelt between your legs, hands spreading your thighs apart with an ease that made your breath catch.

“look at you,” he murmured, his pink hair falling over his forehead as his gaze darkened. thick fingers traced a slow path along the soft skin of your inner thigh, rough fingertips catching on each sensitive dip. “all spread out for me.”

his breath was hot as he lowered his head, lips brushing feather-light kisses over the inside of your legs, leaving trails of heat in their wake.

when he finally reached your center, he paused—close enough for you to feel the soft puff of his exhale, but not enough to satisfy the ache blooming between your thighs.

“mine,” he growled, voice vibrating against your skin.

and then his mouth was on you.

his tongue traced a slow, deliberate line from your entrance to your clit, flicking over the sensitive nub with a precision that left your head spinning.

you gasped, fingers flying to his hair, tugging hard at the strands of pink that curled between your knuckles.

he groaned into you, the vibration of his voice sending another jolt straight through your core.

“so fucking sweet,” he muttered against you, the words muffled by the slick heat of his mouth.

his tongue lapped at you in slow, torturous circles, switching between soft flicks and hard strokes that left your thighs trembling.

when his finger pressed into you—thick and unrelenting—you couldn’t stop the moan that slipped out.

his crimson eyes flicked up, locking onto yours. “louder,” he commanded, curling his finger inside you until he found that spot that made your hips jerk.

“sukuna,” you gasped, nails digging into his scalp.

his smirk widened against you, but he didn’t relent. another finger joined the first, stretching you just enough to make your toes curl.

“that’s it,” he purred, dragging his tongue over your clit with every pulse of his fingers. “say my name again.”

your breath hitched as heat coiled low in your belly, winding tighter with each stroke.

“sukuna,” you whimpered, body arching into his touch as the pressure inside you built to the edge.

“good girl.”

his tongue moved faster, fingers thrusting deeper until the coil snapped, pleasure flooding your senses so sharply that you swore you saw white.

you writhed beneath him, body trembling with each wave of release, but sukuna didn’t stop. his mouth and hands dragged you through the aftershocks, prolonging the heat until your legs shook violently around his head.

when he finally pulled away, his lips and chin glistened, and the sight of him licking your slick from his fingers sent another rush of heat flooding your core.

“fuck, you’re perfect,” he rasped, his voice rough and low as he hovered over you, his cock pressing against your entrance.

you could feel him—hot, thick, and far too big.

“you’re gonna take every inch,” he growled, tilting your hips higher as he teased your entrance with the tip.

his cock dragged through your slick folds, each shallow thrust making you ache with want.

“look at me.”

your eyes snapped to his, and the sight of him left you breathless. his crimson gaze burned with possession, pink strands of hair falling into his face as he slowly sank inside, stretching you inch by inch.

your nails dug into his shoulders as your head fell back against the pillow.

“sukuna,” you gasped, breath breaking as he filled you completely.

his name spilled from your lips in a breathy moan as he bottomed out, the thick press of his cock stretching you to your limit. sukuna stilled, letting you adjust, his four hands roaming your body in slow, reverent strokes—calloused palms smoothing over your hips, thighs, and breasts as if to memorize every inch.

“fuck,” he rasped, one of his thumbs dragging lazily over your swollen clit. “you’re takin’ me so well. look how deep i am.”

your eyes fluttered open just in time to catch the glint in his gaze, his crimson irises smoldering as he pressed down on the slight bulge in your abdomen.

“you feel that?” he smirked, applying just enough pressure to make you keen. “so full of me already.”

your head fell back, a soft whimper tumbling from your throat as he rolled his hips, the slow drag of him pulling out leaving you trembling.

“stay with me, baby,” he growled, catching your chin between his fingers and tilting your head up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “i wanna see that pretty face while i fuck you.”

he snapped his hips forward again, the sudden force driving a gasp from your lips. sukuna’s smirk widened as he found his rhythm, each thrust harder, deeper—grinding against that sensitive spot inside that left your thighs trembling around his waist.

“goddamn,” he hissed, leaning down to bite at the curve of your shoulder, his teeth dragging against your flushed skin. “tight little thing. you were made for me.”

your nails raked down his back, desperate for something to hold onto as he drove you closer to the edge with every snap of his hips.

“sukuna—please,” you whimpered, not even sure what you were begging for.

“please what?” he teased, dipping his head to suck a bruise just above your collarbone, his tongue flicking over the mark. “you gotta use your words, sweetheart.”

“i—” your voice broke as he angled his thrusts, the head of his cock brushing against that spot so perfectly you thought you might unravel on the spot.

sukuna grinned, reading the desperation in your eyes as if it fueled him. “ah, there it is,” he murmured, lips brushing against your jaw. “that sweet little spot that makes you fall apart.”

his pace quickened, hips pistoning into you with a brutal precision that sent molten pleasure ripping through your veins.

“you close, baby?” he growled, his voice gravelly as his four hands anchored you to the bed—one pressing down against your lower stomach, two gripping your hips tight enough to bruise, and the last tangling in your hair, tugging gently as he sucked at the curve of your throat.

you could only nod, your breath catching as the tension in your core coiled tighter, dangerously close to snapping.

“then cum for me,” he ordered, dragging his thumb over your clit in tight, merciless circles. “let me feel you.”

his words were all it took—your body arched off the bed, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you, white-hot and all-consuming.

sukuna groaned low in his chest, his thrusts growing rougher, sloppier as your walls pulsed around him, milking him for all he was worth.

“fuck, baby,” he snarled, burying himself to the hilt one last time as he came, the heat of his release flooding you, leaving you trembling beneath him.

for a moment, neither of you moved, the only sound between you the ragged cadence of your breathing and the faint crackle of the fire.

for a moment, neither of you moved, the only sound between you the ragged cadence of your breathing and the faint crackle of the fire.

sukuna leaned down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips—a stark contrast to the bruising way he’d just taken you. his hands, once gripping you with unrelenting force, now traced gentle patterns along your waist, grounding you in the quiet intimacy that followed.

“an elf always belongs with santa,” he murmured against your lips, his voice rough yet tender, as if the words carried a weight neither of you fully understood until now.

your heart skipped at the quiet conviction in his tone, warmth spreading through your chest that had nothing to do with the fire crackling in the hearth.

you brushed a hand through his pink hair, letting the strands curl around your fingers as you smiled softly. “guess that makes me yours then.”

[percivaltheknight]

Yeah, this says it so fucking well.

I have some big feelings about this entire thing. As a trans man, and as someone who was raised in a very gendered parenting heavy culture.

As much as my mom claims to not care about gender stereotypes, there's so many things she's said or done or expected from me, that she expected to see, that she prepared to see in her growing Girl Child, that she never got. And it shocked and annoyed her every time, because I wasn't following the Rules TM.

And my dad was always the type to keep his opinions to himself, but it's clear to see that he's always been a very firm believer in gender roles and stereotypes.

This created a very awkward environment for my brother and I. My brother who liked sewing and crocheting and origami, who hated the fixing and yard work that dad expected him to learn how to do. My brother who's now teaching himself how to cook, who buys himself cookbooks, because my parents never took the time to teach him anything besides how to turn on a grill.

And then me, who was dragged to knitting circles by my mom and grandma, who said, "it's good for you to learn a craft" but ignored all my interest in other things, because clearly those aren't Real Interests. Me who learned anyways, and then taught my little brother, because he wanted to be involved but was never brought with. Me who learned chess so I could play with my dad, who always said no, not today, but was always disappointed when my bro showed no interest. Me who borrowed my dad's sword art books, and his castle books, and toddled after him to his fencing clubs and through the hardware store and into his work shed to see what he was doing, who listened for hours when he'd tell me about medieval culture and building techniques and weapons and armor and knights, who watched all of the documentaries with him long after mom and my little bro got bored and wandered off to do other things.

And my dumbass parents were surprised that I named myself after a knight from arthurian legend when I came out as trans.

And at the same time, while my brother is teaching himself how to sew and how to cook and is making crafts and knitting, because he enjoys those things, they ask, "why didn't you tell us you wanted to learn?" and we both just sit there and share a look, because really? Where have you even been? Were you paying attention at all while you were raising us, or were you just on autopilot for 18 years?

I mean, yeah, there are still things we like that belong in the Assigned Gender Category. My bro likes his tools, and he's always been proud of his skill with computers and videogames. And I do like crocheting, and cooking, and makeup, now that i've found my own way of doing it. But those aren't things we like because we're supposed to like them. Those are just things we like.

But I think I figured out why I hated pink and purple so much as a kid. When every birthday and christmas present you get is the same color that you've never shown interest in before, and when everything in your room is the same bright happy shade of Something Someone Else Likes, you tend to cringe at the sight of it.

Gendered parenting is so weird. As a little kid I was a total daddy's girl, I was told I would always try to sneak into the garage, I was always very interested in everything he was doing and would follow him around while he was working, but while my family was never the type to outright say "you can't do that because you're a girl", they simply didn't entertain the idea that I could possibly be interested in cars. Then when my little brother was born, it was just assumed he would become a mechanic like our dad because he was a boy. Even though he, unlike me, didn't like being in the garage much and wasn't all that interested in what dad was doing. Once he got to a certain age, dad started making him help and would drag him away from his actual interests for it, which lead to a lot of arguing and not much actual learning.

Gendered expectations sort of create doubles of children. There's the real child with their actual personality, interests and behaviors, and then there's the Gender Child.

My real brother hated soccer and team sports. The Gender Child that existed only the minds of the adults in his life needed to play soccer because that's what a Boy Child does.

Growing up, I always felt like adults didn't actually know me as a person and they weren't interested in getting to know me. Because they felt they'd already learned everything there was to know about me when they were told "it's a girl".

When I talk about how I never got gifts I actually liked from my relatives (to this day I still don't like getting gifts that aren't something I picked out myself), it isn't actually about the gifts themselves. I don't even remember them. What I do remember is the feeling of being given gifts that were seemingly not bought with the real me in mind. They were for the Girl Child™️ version of me. The me that adults wanted me to be, not who I actually was.

[lovlidollie]

stepbro rafey who fucks you in front of the family portrait so he can watch guilt induced tears roll down ur pretty face :(

absolutely in love w this !!! cw ; stepcest, dubcon, dacryphilia, p in v, icky rafe

stepbro!rafe has a fucked up sense of humour. he’s always been .. a little twisted. a little cruel. he corners you in the living room, icy blue eyes gleaming with a dangerous mix of lust and malice. the cameron family portrait hangs to the right of the sofa you’re currently perched on, innocent eyes warily looking up at his angular face. he’d been .. looking at you a little differently these past few weeks.. and it had anxiety settling itself deep down in your tummy. you didn’t like it. he was older than you, bigger, stronger. ward and rose weren’t home, wheezie was with a friend, and sarah was off who knows where with her ragtag group of pogues. just the two of you tonight.

“what’s up, rafe?” you question quietly, trying to discreetly pull up the neckline of your tanktop. his lips curl into a slow, wolfish smirk, something so distinctly predatory you feel like sprinting. rafe doesn’t answer your question immediately, eyes flicking between your face and your cleavage. “‘what’s up?’” he echos, caging you in when he moves to take a seat uncomfortably close to you. his thighs touch yours as he stretches an arm over you to rest on the armrest, broad shoulders blocking your escape. “you tell me, sweetheart. you’ve been a little.. skittish ‘round me recently. makes me wonder what y’so nervous ‘bout.”

“‘m not nervous,” you stammer, shrinking further into the cushions. your heart thunders at his proximity. “well, um — if you’re done, ‘m jus’ gonna—”

before you can finish, rafe’s hand shoots out, gripping your wrist firmly. not painfully, not yet, but enough for you to freeze. “nah,” he interrupts, reaching out to brush a stray strand of hair behind your ear. the act is deceptively gentle, but you know his intentions are anything but pure. “wanna talk to you. y’know how much i love you,” he says with a grin, eyes darkening as he glances down to your wet lips. you have a feeling his idea of love isn’t the same as yours.

rafe leans back on the couch, pointing across to the portrait. it was new, recently commissioned to include you. the newest cameron. ward and rose were at the front, his self-satisfied smirk and her pristine smile looking painfully fake. wheezie was between them, her face shining the brightest. at the back, were sarah, rafe and you, his body directly behind you. in the picture, you’d plastered on a polite smile, though if someone looked closer, they’d be able to see the terrified glint to your eyes. rafe had gotten incredibly close, arm wrapped around your waist, hand resting low on your hips. he looked perfect in the portrait, hair perfectly styled, clothes crisp; the epitome of the man ward had raised him to be. ”wha’cha think, huh?”

you shrink into the couch, lips forming a line as you force your words out. “yeah — looks nice.” rafe sucks on his teeth, nodding his head to himself. you move to get up again but this time he’s prepared, grabbing you by the midriff. you think you hear him say “you look so pretty when you’re scared,” but the next thing you know his lips are on yours in a searing, sloppy, wet kiss. it’s all teeth and tongue and it’s so, messy.

you try resist, try hitting him in the shoulder but all he does is take that as confirmation to slip his tongue deeper down your throat. his fingers curl into your top, pads of his fingers dragging against your nipples, pulling you closer. your mind is reeling with the implications of this but your treacherous body betrays you, heat pooling heavy and low in your tummy despite the shame clawing its’ way out of your chest.

rafe groans when you finally manage to land a punch to his sternum, breaking away from you. a string of saliva connects the two of you before snapping, and silence fills the room, nothing except the sounds of your combined panting. “been wantin’ to do that f’a while.” he sounds so cocky, so assured, like he’d planned this the entire time.

“what the fuck,” you whisper, a shaky finger tracing your kiss-bitten lips. “what the fuck, rafe!” you feel the tears spring to your eyes immediately, and rafe’s face lights up like a kid on christmas.

he’s moving, grabbing you by the arms and flipping you over, throwing you like a ragdoll until your upper body is positioned over the armrest. “rafe — rafe wait — wait what.. rafe! we can’t. we, can’t.”

“no one’s here to stop us, baby. c’mon gimme what i want. ‘know you wan’ it too. don’t think i don’t see the ‘lil looks y’throw at me.” you hear him shuffling around, the clink of a belt, and suddenly something long and hard is poking you. “rafe! please!” you sob, even if deep, deep down you knew he was right. you felt so dirty. “‘s’okay, y’family now, right? family helps each other.”

his fingers crawl up your lower half, pulling down your pants and undies just enough for him to expose the globes of your ass and your leaking cunt. “mmmh yeah, see? knew it. its, uh, it’ll be okay. ‘m gonna make it good f’you.” he swipes his cock against your folds a few times, coating his thickness in your dewy wetness, using another hand to hold down your body as you struggle. and then he’s surging in, hips flush against yours within a second. your pussy grips him tight, clenching down on him like a vice, so hard rafe almost doubles over. “shiiit.”

it feels like too much and not enough. you’re full, so incredibly full you swear if you looked at your tummy you’d see his dick poking through. he gives you a second before pulling out slowly and slamming back into you, the couch screeching against the marble with the movement. rafe’s hand curls itself into your hair, twisting it until he can pull your head up. you can barely see the maniacal look in his eyes through your blurry vision, cheeks wet with hot tears.

“look at that,” he breaths out against your ear. your brain is so mushy you don’t even know what he’s talking about until he’s making you look right at the portrait. “perfect little family, yeah? haaah, bet they’d lose their minds if they saw their sweet, innocent girl letting her stepbrother ruin her like this.” he’s destroying you, right under their noses and it fuels him like no high ever could. oh, how he wished they could see you now, all your guilt and shame and the underlying lust. he loves it.

he punctuates it with a harsh thrust, one that has you moaning and subconsciously arching into him. he leans over you, watching the tears fall down your delirious face before licking your cheek with a broad tongue stroke. “keep y’eyes on them,” he nearly growls, voice dripping with raw hunger. his fingers dig painfully into your hips as he sets a brutal pace. “wanna make ‘em watch you cry.”

[bunny-jpeg]

burnin' tire

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, masturbation, fantasies, mad!max, post-dutch gp, mechanic!reader

love the fic? leave a comment! really love the fic? suggest your own!!

second.

second was first place for losers. that was what he had been told his entire life. second, seconde, secondo, however he could slice it, it still looked bad. so when he stomped back into the paddock with fire in his heart and a storm cloud over his head, the mechanics scattered.

they even went as far as to push you, their newest addition in front of max so they could get a head start away from mad max.

he looked down at you, something in his gaze left you a little shaky at the knees. this was your first race with the team, and you couldn't secure a win for max. it was almost embarrassing.

"i'm sorry, mister verstappen!" you pouted, "i'm really sorry! we tried to move as fast as possible, but i guess we couldn't keep up to mclaren." you worried about your job! you had just started, you were far from home and this was your dream to work for, "i'm so sorry!"

you almost had tears in your eyes, which deflated the anger from max's stance. he dropped his arms and looked at you. he replied, "there's nothing to be sorry about, it happens." as if he hadn't been on a losing streak for some time now.

your bottom lip quivered and your eyes grew watery, "this was your home race. and i'm just so sorry! i just wanted to do good, i wanted you to win!" a few tears fell and max was dumbfounded.

he was used to tearing into the mechanics and the engineers. he was used to snapping his words and letting rage consume him. instead he reached out for you, "hey, it's okay! don't cry. it's alright.'" he even wiped your tears away as your lip wobbled.

you got into his arms and gave him a bit hug. you looked at him and said, "i promise we'll win the next one! i promise!" even in those baggy coveralls you looked cute. if not beautiful.

max felt the anger disappear in his gut and he smiled at you, almost warm, "yes... yes we will." and when he patted you on the head and turned away and out of the paddock.

the other mechanics were in as much shock as you were. and while max would've loved to continue holding you, even reassuring you about the race in monza the following week. max was painfully hard from your brief interaction. it was like all the anger went to his cock and he needed to get out of there before he caused a scene.

back in the red bull motor home, max thought he was going to burst a blood vessel in his head. it was a pain to get into his jeans after he got out of his racing clothes. everything felt like a live wire, to go without masturbating for that long felt painful. especially when the source of his erection was playing in his read.

you smell like motor oil and warm vanilla, your touch was soft when you hugged him and that pretty face. even with the smear of grease on your face and the red bull cap on your head.

"mister verstappen." your voice rang in his head and he didn't even make it to the bed before his cock was in his hand. his palm covered in his spit as he sat on the couch and stroked himself still clothed.

he knew that the team had hired a new mechanic, but to see you in action made his brain feel almost rotten from the lust he felt. he barely paid attention to who was working on the car during the race but he knew you weren't working alone. and yet, you still carried all the responsibility for the team on your shoulders.

you poor thing. he continued to stroke his cock and he panted heavily at the feeling. thoughts of you were in his head as he pleasured himself. he wished you were there to do it for him. even if you wore you coveralls and covered in grease, if you were on your knees in front of him, your mouth on his cock as you pleasured him.

he wondered if you had even done that before. if you had any partners, or even one at the moment. he tried not to let the jealousy curl in his gut. he wasn't even sure, but he wouldn't have been surprised. you were beautiful, and who didn't love a gentle soul. you wanted max to win and max in turn felt towards you that he felt towards no other mechanic. he wanted you to work on his car, but also taking you out to dinner. to show you the finer things in life.

he wondered what colour panties you wore, and what cut. he knew you weren't wearing a thong, no when you were lifting heavy tires all day. he imagined something red, maybe a boy short. something that moved with the curves of your hips and thighs. he thought excited him, it really turned him on. made his face as red as he hoped that your panties would be.

how they'd curve to your ass, when you ran around the pit stop. how you would lift tools around. the strength to you. max liked models, but there was something about you the captivated him. and you didn't even know. you were just a humble mechanic, and you drove max wild.

he continued to stroke his cock heavily. he panted heavily as he felt his dark t-shirt cling to his back. his pace was quick up against his cock, he even spat on his hand once more to just to get the right friction. it was a head rush. he was not immune to masturbation, max did it almost daily if he had the time.

but to picture you in your bra and panties made him excited. hungry like a dog as he fucked his hand. he wished it was your pussy. he wished that he could bully the tip of his cock against you. he wished he could bend you in half and fuck you with a vigor that there were no other words for.

he wondered if you were loud, if he'd have to silence you with your panties. if he's have to cover your mouth or gag you, or would you just burst into tears like you did in the garage. the wet eyes,staring at him, promising that you'd do better next time. it made max want to fuck you even more. he wanted you every way he could have you.

"shit." he groaned through grit teeth as he continued to stroke his cock. he could feel his heart beat in his ears as he continued to masturbate. you were just a little thing, even with your skills as a mechanic, you were still so small. max felt he need to protect you.

he wanted to make sure you needed for nothing. he wondered if you'd have him as your lover. as your partner. the thought made him shudder as he continued to stroke his cock. he felt the head rush it all, he panted heavily as he stroked his cock.

his pace continued and he let himself get lost in the feeling. when it got overwhelming, he finished all over himself. your words rang in his mind, the promises you made. next time will be better. he'd win next time! and as cum dribbled all over his hand, he panted heavily with the head rush. he panted heavily and felt a shudder through climax. he wondered if you were touching yourself tonight, which made his cock twitch in his hand.

he was covered in cum at the waist and he felt hot all over. he rubbed his face with his free hand and for a moment felt in the post-orgasm shame. but it didn't last long.

with the after shivers of euphoria, he knew he had to do something. he couldn't be jerking off in private anytime he saw you. max was a man of action so after he cleaned himself off, he texted horner,

"i was wondering if i could properly meet with our new mechanic, show her the ropes. i think things will be promising with her." he tried to sound as professional as possible, but as thoughts of your watery eyes filled his mind. he knew he'd have to get himself off again soon. <3

[kyunniebuns]

˗ˏˋ Entry : 053 - Lover! Genius HSR Men x Dumbass! Fem! Reader: What do I do with you?... ♡ ˎˊ˗

[ Veritas Ratio, Dan Heng, Aventurine, Sunday ]

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕍𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕥𝕒𝕤 ℝ𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

For most students they dread the sudden random pop quizzes on mondays and fridays; but for a certain class they feared Veritas Ratio discovering their homeworks more than the monsters hiding underneath their beds. If there is a choice between dancing with the devil in scalding hot slippers vs having Veritas see your test results— They would much rather tango with the fiend than the latter.

But what about you? You who is the apple of the genius's eyes? How about your poor soul who has that grim reaper hovering over your shoulder almost 24/7?

"My dearest darling..." Veritas sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose while glancing at your mock test results. "We have gotten over 16 of these questions atleast for 3 hours..."

Ah yes, the familiar expression he does when he's about to nag you to no ends.

"But calculus is so hard!" You whine in protest, batting your puppy eyes on him hopes it works and that the violet haired man feels weak on the knees. "Please understand that I am not born with the same godly braincells you have, your divinity!"

"...." His nose scrunches at the flattering nickname, eyebrow twitching as he attempts to resist your charms.

It's working right?... Right?

It must be!

"If it weren't for the fact you had an impeccable english essay I would be scolding you to no end" Veritas lets out another heavy sigh. "Come, I'll go over these questions once again."

This calls for a celebration, atleast he spared you— To some degree.

Veritas read multiple articles as of late pertaining to individuals who have weak academic skills, he needed to understand idiots in order to teach idiots.

And since you were one... He has to try.

Did it work?

Surprisingly?

It did.

All he needed to do was to baby down the terms and teach you the solutions and terms four times over and over until you understand and can solve the problems by himself.

Veritas is thoroughly impressed by your effort, or maybe you're just trying hard because you're scared of getting an earful from him?

It doesn't matter.

"Hm." He hums, inspecting the set of questions he made for you to solve. "I'm impressed, dearest. You're actually smarter than I thought, we'll work on your speed for the following day— Oof!"

Veritas sputters as he felt your body suddenly jump towards him. He lost balance for quite a bit but steadied himself on a desk while his other hand instinctively grasped your back.

"Is this your attempt of seducing me not to scold you?" He says, a tinge of pink on his cheeks as he tries to prevent his lips from twitching a smile.

"No, I just want to cuddle you" You mumble, nuzzling him further.

"Ugh" Veritas complains (right, as if he's not enjoying the affection) before returning your embrace.

He reckons you must have been tired from using the best capacity of your brain to understand the complicated calculus formulas he shoved down your throat in the past three hours.

For being a good student, you need some rest due rest and affection— From him of course. Who else would?

"Good job today" Veritas praises, his voice dropping into an affectionate tone as he pressed his lips on your temple.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔻𝕒𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕟𝕘 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

Dan Heng is done with life. No not really, he can't leave you, not with your grades anyway. What'll happen to you if he's not here?

He scrunches his nose a little as he sees the pathetic score on your physics quiz. If he leaves you to your own devices, you will end up repeating a grade.

Dan Heng can't have that, he plans to spend all of his schoolyears by your side.

Separation anxiety they call it.

He takes a deep and tired sigh before looking down on you who is sulking on his lap like a defeated puppy.

What is he to do with you?

With how adorable you are right now, how can he resist you?

"Lift your head up," Dan Heng gently says, petting your hair lovingly. "Let's study together, hm? It'll be... Fun"

He wasn't the type to treat studying as a game. But after tutoring his dumbass friends: Caelus, Stelle, and March— He knows just how to play along and make efforts to get someone like you to study.

If he can get those nutheads to straighten up; then you would be no different.

As mischievous as you are, you also listen to Dan heng the most.

After a few more cooing and kisses (And maybe a threat that he wont let you borrow his jacket anymore)— You finally agree to his request.

It's for your own good anyway.

Dan Heng is very patient with you, making sue to slow things down and using multiple analogies to get you to understand. Calculations are complicated in the first place, he doesn't expect you to get it right the moment he teaches you.

Having trouble recalling the basics? He'll explain it to you.

He even goes as far as teaching you some calculation techniques to help you and most importantly he is teaching you shortcuts to make everything easier for you.

Solving problems is just finding a pattern anyway, as long as you recognize it— Then the rest will come easy.

And as he expected, after a few hours of trial and error— You have finally managed to get a score of 4/5 in the practice sheet he provided.

"Not so bad, is it?" Dan Heng said in that monotone but affectionate voice of his, placing a plate of your favourite snacks down on the empty space beside you. "You're doing so well."

"I'm sorry for bothering you..." You apologize, slumping down.

"No, it's alright," The ravenette boy shook his head and kissed the top of your head out of habit, "I like studying, especially if it's with you."

"You're just saying that to make me feel better" You pout, earning a soft smile from him at how cute you are.

"I'm not" Dan Heng mumbles as his lips stayed on your head. "Let's do this more often together. I am able to focus more when you're around me"

He's really just saying that just to make you feel better. But you can't really read him even if you're both dating him.

And Dan Heng knows you're doubting him no matter how sincere he is.

It doesn't matter.

He'll just have to make a way for you to acknowledge. For now though? Dan Heng is more than satisfied to just spend his time with you like this.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝔸𝕧𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕖 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"Pfft...." Aventurine snorts as he sees your worksheet littered with angry red marks and the pathetic score of 12/60 for the chemistry assignment. "Kek...."

"I hate you, we're breaking up" You mumble, earning a loud laugh from the damn peacock himself.

"Baby!" Aventurine cackles, nearly falling over as he laughed while his ome hand remains in your wrist so you wont leave. "Come now, don't be so prissy. It's not really my fault you zone out during class!"

"You're supposed to comfort me!" You whine, making him laugh even more.

"This one becomes reduced and this one is oxidized, you do know the difference, right?" Aventurine points out on the paper. "Hm?"

"No..." You say shamefully, feeling more depressed at your own stupidity.

Aventurine sees your spirits dwindling down and he takes a seat on the chair before patting his lap, "Here, Ill teach you"

"No, I don't trust you" You point a finger at him.

"I got a perfect score for the worksheet" His heterochromatic eyes curve into lovely crescents, "This unit is very complicated and requires a lot of thinking and pattern recognition. It's quite easy. Trust me, yeah? I never mistreated my pretty little girlfriend before after all"

You wanted to sulk.

As mischievous and philantropic as your boyfriend is, there's no mistaking that Aventurine is part of the top students in contrast to his lax personality.

No one can really mock him with his excellent grades no matter how much they hate his guts.

In the end, you relent, perching yourself on his lap as Aventurine grabbed a spare piece of paper and a pencil. He started expaining everything from the very top and making sure you are keeping up.

You thought he would be joking really, but Aventurine is serious. He made sure to quiz you after explaining a concept just to make sure if you are able to keep up. If not, then he wouldn't make fun of you and instead gently remind you.

Chemistry is a complicated subject, even he has to double check his solutions every now and then just to make sure the calculations he did aren't wrong.

He's fine with teaching you really.

It's his duty as your boyfriend to spoil, pamper, and love you as well as making sure you aren't lacking in your studies. It's not for his pride and image, he could care less about what people think. He just doesn't want you to have a breakdown over your low scores.

If there is anything he hates more than anything, it's seeing your tears fall down when he can fix it.

And this just so happens to be something he can solve easily.

"There we go, there we go~" He praises, giving your lips a chaste kiss as a reward for doing the practice questions right. "See not so bad, is it? You just needed a bit of some guidance you silly girl"

"...Thank you" You sheepishly say, making Aventurine pause as you cuddle up to him

Even after all this time, he still becomes weak whenever you become affectionate with him.

"Ah, what ever shall I do with you!" Aventurine cuddles you even tighter, swaying you left and right over his frustration over your cuteness. "Should we go out? I'll get you a birkin and then let's eat at your favourite buffet restaurant. You've been such a good girl today, I should spoil you."

"A birkin?!" You pale, looking at him as if he has lost the screws in his head.

"Don't think I don't know how you are looking at those birkin unboxings, babe" He taps your nose lovingly with the tip of his finger. "Now let's go!"

"Aventurine!!!"

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚ 𝕊𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕒𝕪 ˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

"Erm... What to do...." Sunday takes a deep sigh as he sees the state of your pathetic quiz paper.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

All of it was wrong.

Biology is really quite simple, but how come you're not able to keep up?

Sigh.

"I'm sorry..." You apologize in a weak voice.

You tried your best really, you reviewed as much as you could and banged your head on the wall multiple times without the halovian man looking to try and get the terminologies and cycles right.

"No, no" Sunday immediately says, lifting your face up with his palm. "It's alright my love, there's still time. You can make it up on the test."

"But..." You sulk, and he immediately shakes his head.

"Scores are just score, we can improve them" He smiles gently, kissing your forehead. "Come sit down with me, I'll teach you."

"Sorry for bothering you" You slump down as you sat on the chair he directed you to.

"No need" Sunday keeps that kind smile on his pretty face. "Our professor is very fast on discussing stuff, it's no wonder you are struggling to keep with the lessons. He also gets sidetracked with his life stories a lot... So it's alright"

He's just trying to make you feel better, and Sunday knows you feel that way.

"Here, let's start with rna" He opens the textbook on the pages he needs.

Genetics can be quite tricky if you don't have the fundamental knowledge, so Sunday started with the basics before ramping it up steadily to the complicated terms and processes.

He made sure to take a few minutes of break for the knowledge to sink in, he even fed you some snacks to keep you energized during the long tutoring.

He himself can't help but eat while studying after all, and it proves to be an effective method since you're able to retain more terms.

He didn't doubt you for a second, nor was he impatient.

Sunday took it as slow as it can be and lets you explain back what he just taught you on the top of your head. It's better to study in repetition with biology after all. Even Robin finds his teachings effective, so of course it will work on you too.

"We'll finish for today" Sunday closes the textbook and starts cleaning up the desk you two shared. "How do you feel?"

"A little better..." You admit, leaning on his shoulder. "You're always looking after me, I feel very childish"

"I apologize, I can't help but pamper you" He rubs his head against yours while his little ear wings flutter about at the closeness between you two. "Besides, I'm also reviewing when I'm teaching you. So it's not a loss for me. Studying can be quite lonely, it's better if we do it together."

"I'll do my best on the test, I promise..." You say, earning an even lovelier smile from your lover.

"I know you will," He kisses head, letting his lips linger. "Don't pressure yourself too much, just do what you can. And then after test, how about I take you out on a date? I found a really good museum to visit nearby"

"Really?" Seeing you perk up, Sunday feel even more happy— His little ear wings fluttering even more as he cant contain his excitement to spend time with you.

"Yes, winding down after studying is extremely important" He stands up and offers a hand to you, "Speaking of which, we should head down for dinner. A hearty meal is a very much deserved rewad for you on working hard today"

He always knows what to do or say. It's like Sunday has magic whenever he talks, he can easily make you forget all the sadness and guilt you had earlier for the extremely low score you had for your biology quiz.

Yes.

There is no mistaking it.

Sunday is truly the best boyfriend there is.

꒰ 🪼 A/N: Another hsr post after my short break because I felt lazy and unmotivated to do anything and because I was doing hw (◞‸◟；). Figured I might as well make a study comfort fic with these smart bois hehehehe. Idk if I did Dr. Ratio well, I hope I did.... I'm going to read up more abt his charac info in the game. I've been busy building Sunda as of late so heheh... I still have to fix his planar set kek. But he is thankfully on 204% cdᕦ(ò_ó)ᕤ. He and Robin make the perfect team!!! For anyone curious, my lineup is Aventurine, Dan Heng, Robin and Sunday ദ്ദി(｡•̀ ,<)~✩‧₊ ꒱

ʚ(੭´͈ ᐜ `͈)੭ .｡✧: ~ —! stories written by kyunnie; translations, reposts, plagiarism are strictly forbidden.

[multipleoccupancy]

Sloane chuckled that Samantha hoped her future children would never play with crossbows or ask to hunt monsters. He knew it was not something any of them had asked for but Violet seemed rather determined. She might have been the first to ask to join a mission. He smiled all the more, touched that she thought he was a great dad. She might not have seen his family and that being the whole point but in truth, well, he thought he was a pretty good dad too. "Thank you," he was sure to say back.

He watched as Killian took another shot and then talked with Violet. He didn't hear what was said but he wasn't too worried as Violet took her position. "There's going to be no living with either of them if they hit all of the cans." A playful warning to Samantha before he gave her a little nudge. "You should have a go and show them how it's done," he encouraged playfully.

Violet shot both of her remaining cans without issue which by now Sloane supposed wasn't a surprise and he scratched absently at his eyebrow. Yes, now he had to word things just right to persuade her to fire from a safe distance away which he was sure she would be more than capable of doing regardless. Protect Samantha not Violet. Right.

Theo applauded and gave a little nod of approval as she shot both cans, chuckling as she bragged. "That was for sure how it's done," he praised with a smile as he took the offered crossbow. "Well done," he was sure to say.

While her father might have been cunning enough to think of how his daughter might feel much more elated if she had beaten him, just a simple narrow miss of a can and leaning into the embarrassment to let her gloat. This Theo was still too young to think like that and once he was on his mark, he pointed the crossbow, aimed and shot the first can with success. Excellent. One more to go. He took a deep breath, steadied himself and was very clearly serious about the task before firing the final shot and toppling the final can.

Happy, he turned with the crossbow pointed to the floor and gave his own playfully exaggerated bow to Violet, Sloane and Samantha. "I see it's a draw!" Theo announced playfully and smiled towards Violet. "Literally. A draw." At least the dad jokes were apparently well in the works already. A faint chuckle from Sloane confirmed the quality.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Yes, Killian seemed to be having a lot of fun. He was only 19 -technically still a teenager. She couldn't blame him for enjoying a crossbow tournament, or for wanting to include Violet to their mission. He wasn't a father yet! "They're both having fun," she chuckled in response, shaking her head in amusement. Meanwhile, Sloane and her were worried!

Samantha blushed for the compliment on her parenting abilities. "I hope my children will never play with crossbows... or ask to fight monsters." She nudged him playfully. "Thank you, Sloane. That means a lot coming from you, you know. I think you're a great dad." She had never seen him with his children, but he was like the father of O cell.

Theo's third shot was a bullseye too, but Violet wasn't surprised. It seemed like they were indeed headed for a tie. She certainly didn't want to lose! "It would be cooler," she agreed as she took the crossbow from him. Two more shots. She couldn't miss. Now that she was certain she had impressed Sloane and Samantha, she cared more about impressing Theo.

She focused, aimed, and shot. The arrow landed right in the can. But she didn't rejoice, not yet. She aimed again, shot again. Another arrow in the can. Five out of five. Now she could let out a little sound of victory.

"And that is how it's done," she bragged, handing Theo the crossbow.

[prodbymaui]

Eunoia. — 이민형

when it's all said and done, girl, I want you

PAIRING: mark lee x reader GENRE: unspoken feelings

WORD COUNT: 2.3k+ words

WARNINGS: finger fucking, pet names (baby, love), pool sex, exhibition kink, grinding

SYNOPSIS: it's late at night and you're yet to pull yourself out of the ocean that is your thoughts. Mark helps you out in a complexed but effective way that he knows. A/N: very self-indulgent, definitely not a scenario that came up to me in the middle of the night and stayed in my mind ever since. anyhows, enjoy reading!

The day nears the next cyle of the moon and sun, but you remain at the pool side— music resonating from your phone as you dip your feet in the pool, drinking the night away. 

You should’ve been worn out from all the fun that you had with your friends yet for some unknown reasons, sleep doesn’t come to you easily. In result, you opt grabbing one of the unfinished bottles of vodka for yourself.

The thoughts swimming in your head must’ve drowned you, considering that you didn’t hear one of the bedroom doors opening and the footsteps walking towards. It is only when someone sits next to you that you notices their presence.

Your gaze shifts from the stars to the man on your right— Mark. Your breath hitches for a moment. The messy hair and a plain white shirt paired with the dopey smile on his face is enough for you to fall in to another trance.

“What got you out here having fun all by yourself?” Mark tilts his head in question, to which you let out a soft laugh.

“Is drinking alone fun now?”

“I suppose.. ? It looks fun for me.”

Merely replying with a smile, silence engulfs the both of you. And as if on cue, your mind boggles you over trivial things once again, just like what it does since you were young.

Mark passes you a brief glance, then to the music playing on your phone.

Thoughts

Sometimes, I just can't control my thoughts

No medication's ever made them stop

All I think about is everything I'm not

Instead of everything I got

He sighs, biting his lips as he contemplates on what to do.

And it’s not Mark if he chooses the complexed but effective way.

The bubble of your thoughts pop when the water splashes at you suddenly. Surprised, you look over to Mark who’s swimming his way towards where you are seated. Just right before you, Mark comes up from the water, brushing his black undercut hair back.

His eyes meet yours. “Hi,”

“Hello,” You grin, sipping your vodka.

He walks a little bit more closer, enough for his chest to make contact with your knees. Mark smiles again, resting his hands on your knees.

“Hi,” He repeats softly.

You can’t help but chuckle. “Hello Mark,”

What is this man doing? The voices in your head asks.

“Come swim with me?”

You glance at the rippling water illuminated faintly by the moon, then back at him, standing waist-deep with a boyish grin that doesn’t quite match the hour. 

“Pass, I’m just waiting for sleep to take over my body. Besides,  you shouldn’t be swimming this late at night, Mark. You’ll catch a cold.”

Mark exhales dramatically, a mix of exasperation and amusement, before swishing the water toward you in a playful splash. It doesn’t reach, but the gesture draws a reluctant grin from you.

“Loosen up a little,” He says, his voice warm, almost teasing. “Who cares about catching a cold if it means having a bit of fun?”

You’re not quite sure how it happens. You remember saying no—firmly, even—but now the cool water laps at your legs, rising steadily until it reaches your waist. Mark’s hand is warm and steady in yours, his grip pulling you further into the pool, toward the deeper end.

“Mark,” you warn, your voice low, your fingers tightening instinctively around his. It’s not fear—nothing as dramatic as that. You can swim perfectly well, and the depth of the water doesn’t intimidate you. It’s just…this wasn’t supposed to be on your list for tonight.

He slows, catching the hesitation written across your face. Without a word, he stops walking, the two of you now floating in the very center of the pool. The stillness around you is palpable, broken only by the faint ripples you’ve created together.

Mark’s gaze softens as it finds yours, studying your expression carefully, reading the unspoken. Then, with a quiet assurance, he slides his arm around your waist, pulling you just a little closer.

“I’ve got you,” he says, the words low but firm, steadying you in a way that feels more solid than the water ever could.

You sigh, taking in the comfort of the moon and starts hovering above the both of you, and the comfort of Mark’s arm around you.

“What do you think Yeonjun and Wooyoung’s reaction will be if they see us like this?”

“The teasings, oh god,” The mere thought of the two troublemakers’ reactions is already enough to make Mark sigh in exasperation. 

He can practically hear their voices now—the teasing tone, the exaggerated laughter. They’ve been relentless lately, poking fun at the “odd vibe,” as they like to call it, between the two of you. Their wild imaginations have taken your every interaction and spun it into something far more dramatic, their assumptions as colorful as they are persistent.

You laugh at his response, sliding your arms to rest on his shoulders. “Why do you think they tease us so much?” Mark’s chuckle fades, leaving a quiet tension in its place. The water sways around you both, but all you can focus on is how his gaze has softened—more intent now, as if he’s waiting for something.

“They think there’s something between us,” he says, his voice dropping just enough to make the words feel weightier. His hands linger at your waist, his touch steady yet hesitant, like he’s holding back.

You swallow, your laugh from earlier now a distant echo. “And… do you think they’re right?” you ask, surprising yourself with the boldness in your voice.

Mark’s lips twitch, but it’s not quite a smile. “Sometimes,” he admits, barely above a murmur. “It’s hard not to when they keep planting the idea in my head.”

You feel a faint warmth rising in your cheeks, though you’re not sure if it’s from his words or the way his thumb grazes your side absentmindedly. “And what does that idea look like to you?”

The shift in his expression is subtle, but it’s enough to make your heart stutter. There’s something deeper in his eyes now, something that makes the air between you feel almost fragile.

“Do you want me to show you?” he asks quietly, his voice low and steady, but there’s an edge to it—a flicker of vulnerability he can’t quite hide.

The moment stretches, the world outside the pool fading to nothing. It’s just you, Mark, and the unspoken tension swirling between you, like the water lapping at your skin.

Whether it’s you or Mark who closes the distance first doesn’t matter. All that matters now is the way his lips meet yours—soft and deliberate, moving in a rhythm that feels as though it’s been waiting to happen. The kiss deepens naturally, a slow, intoxicating exchange that carries the urgency of something long denied.

Mark’s hand slides to the back of your head, his fingers threading gently through your hair as though anchoring you to the moment. His grip is firm but careful, a silent assurance that he won’t let go. When he feels you lean further into him, your movements mirroring his, something shifts.

With surprising ease, Mark’s other hand slips beneath your legs, lifting you as though you weigh nothing. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, securing yourself against him. The movement presses your bodies closer, the water rippling around you in lazy waves.

You can feel his breath against your skin, warm and uneven, his lips trailing softly before returning to yours. The press of his body is undeniable, a tension simmering beneath the surface, but the way he holds you—steady, deliberate—grounds the moment in something more than just desire.

Mark pulls away, breathing heavily. “I know it’s late but tell me to stop. Tell me you don’t want any of this and I’ll pretend none of this happened tomorrow.”

Nonsense. You don’t even know what got him thinking like that when you’re already on cloud nine just by his kisses.

“Don’t stop,” You whisper against his ear before connecting your lips with his once again.

As your tongue fights and clashes with one another, you gasp at the feeling of Mark’s palm cupping your core. The water surrounds every part of your lower body but Mark could still feel the slimy texture of your juices on his skin.

His fingers slides along your labia, letting it explore and feel your warmth. The soothing movements of his pads strays away from your focus as Mark’s kisses travels down to your neck. Tracing your skin with his tongue, Mark licks a stripe straight to where your neck and collarbone meets. You gasp as he gives it a little kiss before sucking the skin, at the same time he enters a digit inside you.

“Mark..”

He shushes your noises yet his fingers serves absolutely nothing to help you do so. Not long after you’ve gotten used to his single digit, he enter another after another, curling them inside. Your head lols back, trapping your bottom lips between your lips.

Turning the both of you around, Mark carries your weight one arm while the other busies itself pumping inside you. In a few steps backwards, your back hits the wall of the pool causing Mark’s fingers to be buried deeper inside. Your hands fly to grab something as a leverage, eventually finding his flexing arms. The cold breeze brushing against your skin reminds you that you’re not in the privacy of your bedroom or any private space right now. And Mark uses it to his advantage, seemingly knowing well what you like despite this being the first time that he’s having a taste of you. “Haechan was awake when I left the boys’ room, you know?” he murmurs, his tone low and teasing as he tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear. His lips brush against your cheek in a series of soft, fleeting pecks, his warmth lingering with each one. “He was mumbling something about wanting a snack but being too lazy to actually get up. You know how crazy that man is about his snacks, babe.”

His voice drops to a playful whisper. “What if he decides to come out? Imagine him catching us like this—you trembling in my arms, eyes fluttering shut, your hips jerking against me like you’re trying so hard to keep quiet. One look at your hips, and he’d know exactly what’s happening, no questions asked.”

You curses at the thought of being caught. And Mark laughs. Because he knows damn well it’s not due to embarrassment nor fear. The clench of your walls on his fingers tells him so. “Wouldn’t you like that, babe? I think you would,” Curling his fingers upwards, your eyes rolls to the back of your head. “Look at you getting close at the thought of it. I wonder what’ll be his reaction.”

“Mark please,” You plead, not even knowing for what reason. “Please? I don’t know even know what you want, love.” It’s frustrating how the brutal pace of his thrusting fingers contrasts the soft and loving tone of his voice. It messes your head and inside both at the same time. “Please please, Mark—” Your eyes catches his sharp gaze in a hazy film, barely even able to open your lids to maintain eye contact. “Fuck– haah, I’m gonna come.” “Yeah?” Mark pulls you impossibly closer, grinding his prominent boner on any accessible part of you that he can reaches by merely moving his hips. “I’m gon– I wanna cum, I’m gonna cum. Shit, Mark please, baby,” You desperately cling on to him, meeting his fingers halfway as you try your best to fasten the pace despite the restrain from the water. Mark groans, silently wishing it is his cock you’re clenching around so tightly right now. How good it must feel to your warm walls massaging his length, tightening on him just right, milking him dry until he’s nothing left but an empty vessel of a man obsessed with you and your body. He presses your bodies to the wall as he grinds harder and faster, matching your pace. “Do it. Come for me,” He whispers your name in an encouraging manner. And you did just as he orders. Failing to keep your eyes open, your eyes shut close as your mouth forms a circular shape. The pleasure comes to you crashing down. Mark doesn’t know what kind of hold you have on him but he’s certain it is no way near surface level when he reaches his own climax just by watching you come undone in his arms. The look of you embracing the pleasure he offered is enough to send him off the edge. You nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck, your ragged breaths mingling with his as you try to steady yourself. The aftershocks still linger, leaving your body heavy and your mind hazy, but the comforting rise and fall of his chest anchors you. Both of you silently agree to stay like this for a moment, letting the sound of the pool water gently lapping around you fill the quiet. It feels like time has paused, a brief reprieve from everything outside this bubble of warmth.

But fate, as always, has other plans.

A slow, deliberate clap breaks the stillness, immediately snapping your attention toward its source. The sound is followed by a low whistle that cuts through the air like a taunt.

“Well, that was one hell of a show,” comes the familiar voice, dripping with mock amusement.

Your head snaps up, and there he is—Haechan, leaning casually against the doorframe of the boys’ room, arms crossed and that trademark cocky smirk plastered across his face. His expression, equal parts smug and entertained, makes your stomach drop.

[bisexualiteaa]

Omg! You should totally do one where he’s sexually frustrated. And the reader (female), teases him until he breaks! And when he does they get down to business BIG time if you know what i mean lol. But even when they do start to fuck the reader doesn’t listen to all his demands, making it more spicy once silco finally gets the reader exactly how he wants her.

On edge

AN: Thank you so much for this request!! I loved the idea so much and literally had so much fun writing this! Apologies that it took a few days, I again just wanted to make sure it was good and to what you asked! ♥️ I hope you enjoy and that I’ve done your ask justice! 🥺🫶

CW: no use of y/n, reader has hair, reader is AFAB, female anatomy, MDNI, cursing, teasing, heavy brät/brät tämer themes, Silco is t0uch deprived, r0ugh seggs, unprotected seggs, bïting, cream 🥧, slight dëgradation, p0rn w/o plot, äftercare, possible spelling/grammar errors

Also I’m not sure why, but as I was writing I was listening to this song and I just feel like it fits SO well! So listen along while you read if you’d like!

His forehead head sat in his hand as you entered his office, elbow leaned against the desk as his other hand held a glass, amber liquid and two ice cubes swirling around inside the ornate rocks glass. Whiskey, he only drank on the rougher days anymore, and judging by the cigar that sat in the ash tray on his desk, smoke emanating from it, told you he was having a day. You on the other hand, were in a different sort of mood, a bubbly, perhaps more mischievous mood. You weren’t quite sure what brought it about, whether it was your confidence just hitting a new high today, or what but you could tell from the sassy sway to your hips as you shut the door carefully behind you. Something you didn’t realize had in fact been noticed by him, he was just doing a very good job at hiding it.

“Rough day?” You asked innocently, sauntering over to his side as you stood beside him. The scent of your perfume filled his nose the moment you moved closer, leaving him to inhale its intoxicating scent. Sometimes he wondered if you mixed a sort of drug into it with the way he craved its familiarity, wishing to smell it on his sheets, his jacket. When he did, it drove him wild, the transfer of it from just a simple hug was enough to leave him clutching the large jacket and taking a whiff on occasion when no one was looking or when he was alone in his office. Each time he did, he could feel his cock twitch with excitement as his mind would then drift to you. Sinful thoughts filling his mind of how good you would look splayed against his sheets beneath him, or how you would look bent over his desk as he ravaged you. Shimmer had nowhere near the effects that you had on him, it was almost impressive as much as it was sad. How long had it been that the simple scent of your perfume could cause him to go mad? Or for your fleeting touches to leave him with such carnal need? He couldn’t remember, but you made him feel young again in that sense.

“Quite” he replied plainly, placing the glass down on the desk, trading it for his cigar that had already been halfway smoked. You watched as he took a long drag of it before leaning back and releasing the smoke in an exhale upwards, ensuring he wouldn’t breathe it into your face. You loved the scent of his cigars, something about the tobacco mixed with smoke and his own personal scent left you enjoying being around him as he smoked more than you probably should have. There was something just so alluring about it. “Every time I turn around it feels as if something has fallen apart and is in need of my attention” he finally explained, leaving you to look upon him sympathetically. The lines of stress etched into his forehead and brow spoke truth of this, the bags beginning to accumulate beneath his eyes only further evidence to his unrest. Your hand came to rest against his thigh, rubbing soothing circles along his skin. Something you’d done in the hopes it would help him calm down a little, but you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t have ulterior motives behind it.

You felt his body tense for a moment from the soft touch, looking down at your hand that rested against his mid thigh. It was so close, so close yet so far. He wondered how it would look in your small, dainty hands, how good it would feel. He turned his head and shifted a little to try and erase the thought from his mind, but even as you removed your hand, its heat lingered on the spot like a painful reminder. “Zaun looks to their leader for guidance and aid, but even a leader deserves rest” you said, smoothing your hands along his jacket, flattening any wrinkles that formed from his previously hunched over position. You were bent over as you did, the shirt you were wearing giving him direct sight to your cleavage as your perfume continued to intoxicate him. Did you have any idea the things you were doing to him? Surely you had to, you couldn’t be so oblivious to your effect on him, could you? He was ashamed of the hold you had on him, how weak you made him from just a simple touch. He tried his best to hide it, and hide it well, but as you stood here before him he knew today may very well be the day he reaches his breaking point. “I’m granted no rest when someone walks through my door just about every hour” he replied, making you hum as you stood back up, watching his eyes trail you as you walked back over to the door. He felt himself release a breath he had no idea he’d been holding in as you put a slight distance between you. “Then lock it” you said with a cute little grin, the bolt turning in the door with an audible click before you turned back around, watching him clutch the cigar between his fingers with a fierce grip. His eyes bored into you with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine, no one has ever looked at you like that, with such fire in their eyes, with such desire. It made your stomach twist in knots. “No one can bother you if they can’t get in” you finished before returning to his side, this time watching as you boldly sat on an empty corner of his desk.

You couldn’t quite read the look on his face as you did, but you had noticed the way his eyes would flit up and down your body when he thought you weren’t looking. He took in the way your pencil skirt seemed to raise past your mid thigh as you sat down, giving him a flash of your panties from beneath it when you would go to cross your legs, leaving him incredibly hard beneath his pants. You were toying with him, you had to be. There was no way you were doing this all unknowing of the effects you had on him. Pathetically, he was falling for it, and he hated that he was. He caught the glimpse of a grin resting on your sweet, plump lips as your downcast gaze trailed him up and down, waiting for a response. You were teasing him on purpose. “You play with fire” he stated, making you giggle. “I know, I can’t help myself. I like the possibilities of being burnt” you answered confidently, your foot dragging up and down his calf affectionately. Janna almighty you’ll be the death of him, but if that were to be the case, what a hell of a way to go.

You watched him as he stood before you, hands planting on either side of your thighs as his face hovered close to yours. “You think you’re so clever? Waltzing in here with that short little skirt, teasing me and think I wouldn’t notice?” He asked, making you hum as your grin only stretched wider. “Seemed to be working just fine, was it not?” You asked in reply, feeling as his hands gripped your thighs, spreading them apart to allow him a place to stand between before pulling you to the edge of his desk where your hips met his. “You tell me, what do you think?” he replied, leaving you to gasp softly as you felt him pulse and twitch against your heat. “I think I have you wrapped around my little finger” you boldly claimed, your fingers walking up along his jacket before your arms looped around his neck, pulling yourself even closer to him but never fully closing the distance. “You think so?” He asked in response, making you giggle. That same smug grin rested on your lips as electricity thrummed between you, your faces mere centimeters apart, waiting to see if he would cave in. Your gaze flit to his lips with heavy lids, enjoying the mental turmoil you were putting him through as he fought caving in immediately. “You want me so bad? Come get me” you whispered, your breath ghosting across his lips as they hovered so very close to his own. He needed you in ways he couldn’t even begin to try and explain.

So he caved.

You felt his hand come to rest on the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he pulled you even closer, finally closing the distance between you as his lips captured yours. The kiss was fiery, passionate and messy, a gravely groan leaving him into it. You could feel the rumble in his chest from it, paired with the way his lips danced against your own told you how long he’d been wanting this, how much he’d been needing this. Needing you. You couldn’t help the smile that stretched to your lips into it, thinking of all the ways that you could push his limits. Your hand smoothed down his chest, toying with his tie as his tongue swiped across your bottom lip, an effort to push the kiss further into something more intimate. You giggled as you denied him, earning an impatient groan in response as his free hand groped your ass roughly, making you moan. The moment you did, he took his chance, his tongue exploring you as it tangled with your own in a messy clash of teeth, tongue and lips. It had you dizzy.

When he pulled back he looked you over, not caring this time if you laid witness to it or not. He took the moment to take in how your chest heaved with each labored breath, how your cheeks were flushed, lips shining with swapped saliva. “Gonna keep staring at me? Or you gonna do something about that problem of yours?” You asked with a cocky grin, making him chuckle darkly. “Oh it will be fixed, but it won’t be me fixing it” he said, yanking on your hair to pull your head back, earning a pathetic whine from you as it made you look up at him, finding yourself unable to bite back in this position. “You caused it, you fix it” he ordered, making you moan as he rolled his hips against your own, brushing his painfully hard cock against your panty clad cunt, allotting you some much needed friction and stimulation. All you could do was look up at him, excitement and anticipation filling your gaze leaving him to chuckle. “No witty come back to that? I give you the smallest taste of how good I can make you feel and you give up just like that, hmm?” He asked smuggly, making your face grow hot with defeat before he let up on his grip in your hair. “Strip” he commanded, making you stand up and work at untucking your shirt before unbuttoning it slowly. He watched as every button came undone, more of your gorgeous body was revealed to him, his eyes raking over your curves. The fabric soon dropped to the floor haphazardly next to his desk, to be forgotten about until later when it would be needed again. Next was your bra. His eyes were trained on you as he watched you unhook the backing, allowing it to slide down your arms and join your shirt in a growing pile. Your nipples had hardened from the temperature change, the exposure to the air and from the excitement coursing through you in anticipation of what was to come next. Then came your skirt, its simple button and zipper being undone allowing it to drop to the floor and pool around your feet with ease, earning a groan from him at the sight of you nearly naked before him. You hooked your thumbs into the sides of your panties, working them down from your hips before they fell to your ankles, leaving you to kick them off to the side with rest of the pile. You watched with much intrigue and entertainment as he seemed to twitch with anticipation and need for you, making you giggle.

“How long has it been?” You asked curiously, a cocky grin on your lips and confidence in your tone as you looked at him, looping your arms around his neck. There it was again, your perfume, overwhelming his senses. “I beg your pardon?” He asked, brows furrowed and sending a rather defensive look your way. “How long has it been?” You asked again, watching as he looked you up and down. “Since?” He asked in reply, not seeming to understand what you were hinting at, or maybe he preferred you just spit it out. “Since you had sex. Can tell by the tension in your shoulders and the way you practically moan with every touch that it’s been a while” you pointed out playfully, making him a little angry that you managed to get beneath his surface and figure him out so well. “You best be careful of that mouth of yours. My kindness, even with you, has its limits” he responded, making you hum. “Then go ahead, be mean. I’m a big girl, I can take it” you challenged making him walk closer to you, inching you towards the edge of his desk. “You want me to be mean, do you?” He asked, the rasp of his voice lowering to a much deeper tone, a crooked smile resting on his lips. He couldn’t lie, the slight tinge of fear resting in your eyes when you felt your back hit his desk, telling you there was nowhere left to go, awakened something dark within him. Something carnal, animalistic. You looked like nothing more than helpless, vulnerable prey, and he was about to eat you alive. You couldn’t deny the predatory look in his eyes certainly worked wonders on you in return. “Don’t look so concerned…” he started, bringing his hand up to cup your cheek gently before leaning in close, leaving his lips just millimeters from yours.

“I’m about to make your day” he finished, his words mixed with the feel of his breath ghosting your lips so closely send a shiver through you in excitement.

It wasn’t long before his pants were around his ankles, thrusting his cock balls deep into your soaked cunt. Your shared panting and moans, paired with the creaking and screeching of the poor desk beneath you that had been slowly inching its way across the floor with each thrust, filled the room. Should anyone walk past his office, there would be no mistaking what was happening just behind the door. Though you supposed your moans could have likely alerted all of Zaun at this rate, with your first orgasm of the night already past you, it’d be a miracle if no one could hear you. Your head was tilted back as he drilled into you, gripping your hips with a bruising pressure as your arms looped around his neck for leverage. You watched as he looked down to the space where your bodies were connected, watching his length disappeared inside of you with ease. He couldn’t help but to notice the little white ring that rested at the base of his length from your previous orgasm as the sound of his hips smacking roughly against your ass filled the room. “Fuck! Oh gods, yes!” You moaned, making him grin. “How long has it been?” He asked, looking to you, waiting for a response from you but your pleasure-idled mind was so foggy you could hardly understand what he was asking you. “Since? Oh fuck! Right there!!” You replied the best you could, tilting your head back again, leaving your tits just inches from his face as your back arched upwards towards him. “Since someone fucked you right. Since someone made you feel this good” he finished, making you whine as his hand grabbed your jaw, squishing your cheeks as he forced you to look back up at him. The cute pout that rested on your face, occasionally morphing into ones of pleasure each time his tip bullied your cervix, had him rutting into you harder. “Never! Not ‘til you- oh!” You managed, making him chuckle as he relinquished you from his grip. “Pathetic. You put up all that fuss, do all that teasing and yet I still manage to get you right where I want you” he said through grunts of pleasure, his neatly slicked back hair slightly falling against his forehead that had a thin sheen of sweat. “Feels so good! Oh gods, Silco!” You moan pathetically, knowing he was exactly right but you didn’t care. You’d spend every night here like this with him if he made you feel this good every time.

You felt as that familiar sensation in your lower belly began to take root again as his lips captured your own in a messy but passionate kiss, your moans raising in pitch and growing closer together a clear sign that you were close. As if on que, his fingers traveled between your bodies, coming to rub your clit to give you that added bit of friction you so desperately needed. You gasped before moving your hips against his and his fingers, meeting his merciless thrusts and fucking yourself on his fingers. “You’re right where you belong. Beneath me like this, cumming on my cock as I please you like no one else ever will” he said, rubbing your clit faster to make up for the way his thrusts were beginning to lose rhythm. You were so close to finally falling over the precipice, your body feeling as if it were catching on fire as your every nerve ending lit up. His words were what sent you there. “You’re mine” he growled, biting into your shoulder as you came together, his bite sending you toppling over the edge into pure bliss, while your walls squeezed him tight, milking him of everything he’d been holding in for far too long. Your body twitched and spasmed with the intensity of your second orgasm of the night, a pleased hum leaving you as you felt him cum inside of you, throbbing repeatedly as he emptied everything into you.

You both sat there for a moment, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms together, fighting to catch your breath. You watched him smooth his hair back with his hand, doing his best to get it out of his face and back to how it was originally styled, or at least the closest he could get it. You smiled as he kissed you softly, leaving you to cup his dance gently in your hands. “Are you alright?” He asked into it, checking to make sure he hadn’t overdone it and hurt you. You gave a hum then a giggle. “I feel wonderful” you said with a bubbly grin, making him chuckle as he continued to kiss you, not wishing to leave your arms or the taste of your sweet lips just yet. “Good, as do I” he replied, making you grin even wider. “Fuck yes you do” you said, playfully yet truthfully, making you both laugh. “Oh is that so? Have I ruined anyone else for you?” He asked, the hint of possessiveness in his tone as his lips traced down your neck. “You might have. Not that I care to find out, you said it yourself; this is exactly where I belong, and it’s exactly where I intend to stay” you said, your head tilted a little to grant him better access to your sensitive skin. You heard him groan next to your ear as his lips lingered upon all your most sensitive spots.

What caught you by absolute surprise was the sensation of him throbbing within you, twitching to life again from inside of you. You gave a gasp with both intrigue and excitement as he looked to you with a grin. Apparently your words had let the monster out, because stay there you would for nearly the rest of the night, getting lost in one another without a care for how sore you’d be tomorrow. It was well worth it when you were with him.

[enhaeil]

SOON AS I GET HOME! ☆ 박종성

"soon as I get home, I'll make it up to you. baby, i'll do what i gotta do."

soon as i get home - faith evans.

c/w: suggestive!! yet extremely soft. husband jay...wow i love jay

you had a good man. an amazing man even. the best man a woman could ask for. and you've been neglecting him.

when he tries to hug you, it only lasts for a second before you push him away. when he tries to give you a kiss, you barely reciprocate back. when he tries to initiate sex, you brush him off, telling him you're "too tired" to be touched. it's noticeably put a bit of a strain on your marriage, and you feel guilty.

you decide it's time to ignite the fire in your marriage again. remind jay why he married you in the first place. since he's always busy with work and so are you, you decided you would call off work the next day and spend it planning something special.

you hop out the tub and wrap a towel around you before starting your hair and makeup. you decided to wear it down because you remembered how much jay liked it. for makeup, you go with a natural glam with some red eyeshadow.

—

you slip into the lingerie and dress you bought, buckle up your heels, and check yourself out in the mirror one more time. "yup. i still got it." you say to yourself before you head downstairs.

the time is currently 6:30. jay is already off work and is probably on his way back. you use this time to set the food up and pour up some wine. you also lay out some chocolates and light some scented candles. and of course, you had some old school jams playing in the back. lord, if he didn't put a baby in you tonight, it'd be a pretty close call.

as time gets closer, you decide to hide behind the wall so when he walks in, you can suprise him.

around 7:02, you hear some keys jingle and the door opening.

"baby, i'm home. i got some take-out if you're hungry. baby..?"

you can't help but feel your heart swell at your husbands voice. even through your dry spell, he's so sweet. you take this as an opportunity to step out.

"hi jjongie.."

his mouth opens so wide you're scared a moth might fly out of it.

"do you like it..?" he gave you a look as if you just asked the silliest question on earth.

"baby. like it? 'like it' would be disrespectful. you look amazing, y/n."

you giggle and help him take off his work jacket, giving his shoulders a soft massage, feeling the tenseness from his shift today. his head tips back with a sigh. "did i forget something today, love?" he says, trying to scan his mind for any event that could've happened.

you grab his hand and drag him into the kitchen where all the food is prepared. "you're my husband. and I've been neglecting you. so i wanted to show my appreciation for all you do." you say pulling out a chair for him.

"baby...you don't neglect me. we've both been busy with work." he says still holding on to your hand.

"still. when's the last time we had sex, jay?"

"a few days ago, right?" he says trying to see where you're going with this.

"exactly! remember? when used to go at it like animals? one day out of the week would've scared us a few years ago." you say with a small giggle. "now eat up. i dont want the food to get cold!"

you guys spend some time talking about your week and enjoying the meal you made. it felt so nice to have this moment with your husband. you guys rarely ever got to eat real meals together.

"wow, y/n. you really went all out." he says finishing his last bite.

"there's leftovers in the fridge if you get hungry again." you say getting ready to put the dishes in the sink.

he stands up, coming behind you and wrapping his arms around your waist. "how could i ever repay you?"

you turn around and give him a look. "jay. you have been the most perfect man since the day i met you. i can't remember the last time i touched a door or a bill since our first date. you've done more than enough." you say pressing a peck on the corner of his mouth.

you dry off your hands before you turn back to him. "now, I have one more surprise for you upstairs. come on~" you say excitedly before dragging him up the stairs.

you finally make it to your bedroom and point his attention towards the bag in the middle of the bed. in it was a new cologne, a new tie and jewelry. as he opens the bag you dash into the bathroom to take off that tight dress and reveal what was underneath.

"baby, you didn't have to get me any of this. i'm so grateful, thank you. god, this is so cool." he says, examining his new items.

you finally step out the bathroom, heels still clicking as you call out his name.

he brings his attention up and his mouth is left open for the second time that night.

has he seen your body in ways you wouldn't even think was possible? yes. but everytime he did it felt like the first time.

you slowly make your way towards him before he reaches out his hands to touch you as if you'd dissappear right in front him.

"wow, i married a goddess. even years later you still make me feel like a teenage boy."

your eyes begin to water at his words and his touches, feeling like it's been an eternity since you've been touched like this. your hands begin to roam his body too, feeling underneath his shirt and caressing his stomach, your fingertips grazing the roughness of his happy trail.

"i love you jay. and i'll do whatever i can to make up for time we might've lost." you say leading him towards the bed so you can straddle him.

"we've grown a lot since we started dating, y/n. it's okay if sometimes we are too busy to do things with eachother. but even if we go months without touching eachother, i promise i'll always love you the same way I did back then."

and with that, he pulls you into a kiss, which leads into a night full of passionate lovemaking.

a/n: im foaming at the mouth.

[sturniqlo]

rapper!chris x singer!reader au

*.✧ get to know rapper!chris and singer!reader ✧.*

both sfw and nsfw

rapper!chris who listened to singer!readers entire discography after he met her

singer!reader who played hard to get to see just how much rapper!chris wanted her. and also because she knew about his history with girls. plus, she has a bit of trouble committing to anyone (but they both hooked up once before they started dating)

rapper!chris and singer!reader who are each others plus one to any and every event

rapper!chris who gets a chain with singer!readers name or initials on it

rapper!chris who eventually gets a tattoo of singer!readers' kiss mark. it's a total surprise for her once she had gotten back from a quick trip to nyc

rapper!chris and singer!reader who aren't afraid to show each other off. always posting each other on thier social media, pointing each other out at their shows, and mentioning each other during interviews and songs

rapper!chris who loves to go rough but will often times take it slow and soft to feel her and take his time with her

rapper!chris and singer!reader who love to do interviews/videos together just for fun. like BuzzFeed CELEB, ELLE, WIRED, and GQ. even when they're not promoting anything

rapper!chris who will publicly call out anyone who makes a rude comment about singer!reader or mentions her in a song that rubs him the wrong way

singer!reader who loves going to visit rapper!chris in the studio whenever he is recording. always brings him food, snacks, drinks, or anything he asks for

rapper!chris and singer!reader who love to make silly little songs together that don't make sense at all and never release them, however one time chris accidentally posted one of the songs and it accidentally made the charts for how silly it was. (it was about the lunch they had, had that day)

rapper!chris who is in awe of everything singer!reader has ever accomplished. he teared up when she won her very first grammy, was over the moon when her song went platinum in a week, went to every. single. show of her tour no matter what state or country it was in, he was there

rapper!chris who goes to every. single. show of singer!readers' tour no matter what state or country it's in, he's always there supporting her

singer!reader who always senses when rapper!chris is taking candid pictures of her

rapper!chris who puts singer!readers' moans into one of his songs and ends up putting it in his album with her consent of course

rapper!chris and singer!reader who are both so utterly in love with each other and everybody else loves them that they broke twitter the day they announced their engagement

☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮ ★ ☆ ★ ✮★

an: not claiming this as my own idea! i know there as been several writers who have done this au before! anyways, i'm so excited to write for these two i love em already ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

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