#i laid out the entire situation and how bad i felt

[simplepotatofarmer]

i talked to my therapist today about how badly i want people to have compassion and to not do things that hurt others or contribute to a lot of the harassment and anger. but by feeling that way, i get angry and end up doing things that not only hurt people but merely gets me even more hurt.

it was like. her saying that you can't make people have compassion, not when they're already willing to dismiss such serious things or make a joke out of it, really hit home. i can't make them stop and think about how those things, even if they seem like a joke to them, will end up further hurting people. because they don't care and don't want to know.

and if trying to get them to stop or understand or feel that compassion is making me into someone i don't like, then it's not worth it and never was and never will be. i can't lose my compassion and sense in the effort of trying to stop something that will never stop.

anyway. i feel a lot better now.

[mournthebird]

Shower Suds.

summary: You give Soldat his first bath out of captivity.

warnings: Post!HYDRA Winter Soldier | Non-sexual nudity | Mentions of scars and injuries | Self-Harm mention | Post!HTP and abuse | PTSD symptoms & behavior

a/n: This wasn't supposed to be so long, but somehow it always happens when I write about him. Something sorta comforting with some recovery thrown in there. Unedited because I worked on this for so long lol ignore mistakes please! ;; wc: 5.8k

Filthy. You felt bad, really.

There was a lot of problems to tackle with Soldat's condition, but first thing's first...the soldier needed a bath. Badly.

He was dirty, his hair knotted, matted, greasy, his skin was covered in sweat and dirt, probably blood under the black uniform he still wore. The poor man stunk, and he didn't seem to even notice. Or care.

You found yourself in a bit of a hard situation, unsure of the best approach to cleanse him. A bath seemed problematic; he would essentially be marinating in his own grime, which was far from ideal. Would he sit for that long? Would he fight you? You weren't entirely positive.

On the other hand, a shower presented its own set of challenges. Your observations over the past days had revealed his struggle with prolonged standing. He didn't seem to want to stand for very long and often sat or laid down when he could. The majority of his time was spent either huddled in the furthest corner of the room or barricaded within the confines of the small closet, as if seeking refuge from an unseen threat.

As you mulled over the options, weighing the pros and cons of each, you ultimately figured a shower would be better in terms of cleanliness…if anything, you could have him sit in the bottom of the tub. Better than sitting in dirty water with the increased possibility of infection.

But there was one problem. How the hell would you get him into the bathroom in the first place?

You took a breath in, preparing for the worst, and went to the room he stayed in. It was the spare room in your apartment you barely used, but had been furnished as a bedroom in case someone you knew needed a place for a night or something. Not that you ever figured your friends would want to stay with you, you didn't have many to begin with. When you came in, your eyes scanned the room until they landed on him, spotting him huddled up in the corner like expected.

He didn't look up at you when you walked in, his gaze fixed downward and obscured by the curtain of his long, unkempt hair. The stillness that enveloped him was almost unnerving. Only when you took a few steps closer did he react, his head snapping up at you. His eyes bright blue against the dark, messy ink that surrounded them, like he tried to smudge off the black paint but failed.

You took another step forward, your movements slow and deliberate. You could see the change in his demeanor immediately with your approach, even as careful as it was; his breathing became more rapid and shallow, his chest rising and falling at an accelerated pace like he was preparing to be harmed.

"It's okay," you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper. Your hand extended slightly, palm open to try to soothe him. Carefully, you lowered yourself to his level, bending your knees until you were crouching before him. This position, you hoped, would make you appear less imposing and more approachable.

In the few days he had been in your care, you had begun to discern patterns in his behavior, learning to recognize the subtle cues that indicated his comfort level. You had started to understand which actions he perceived as threatening and which ones helped him feel more at ease. It was a delicate balance, one that required patience and constant observation, but you were determined to create an environment where he could begin to feel safe and secure.

"I think...a bath sounds nice. Doesn't it?" You asked him softly, smiling slightly to show you weren't intending to do any sort of harm. "It will feel good to clean off all that dirt...nice and warm water too...you've been shivering." You noted how cold he appeared to be, he was still latched in his cold clothes from when you found him. You were surprised the uniform kept in water.

He remained motionless, prompting you to reluctantly take a step backwards to leave him alone, you’d try later. As you turned away, the faint sound of movement caught your attention. Glancing back, you saw the soldier had risen to his feet, his eyes fixed upon you with an air of expectancy. "Would you like to come and shower?" you inquired, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Да." His voice was a harsh, grating sound, reminiscent of shattered glass scraping against parched earth. It was as though he hadn't uttered a word or tasted a drop of water in an eternity. Despite the brevity and roughness of his reply, it carried a weight of affirmation. You found yourself oddly relieved by this simple acknowledgment. It wasn't much, but in that moment, it felt like a significant step forward. The fact that he had agreed seemed like a small victory.

You had him in the bathroom. That was a good thing.

You pivoted slowly to face him, your gaze carefully scanning his imposing figure. For behaving so meekly, he was an intimidating body to be this close to. Your eyes meticulously traced the contours of his suit, lingering on the intricate array of tactical belts and buckles that adorned his outfit. Each piece seemed to serve a specific purpose, hinting at the dangerous nature of his profession. Your hand tentatively reached out, fingers trembling slightly as they approached one of the sturdy buckles.

Your action was met with an immediate and startling response from the soldier. His metal hand shot up with inhuman speed, grasping your wrist tightly, the cold metal a stark contrast to your warm skin. His hold was firm and unyielding, like a vice grip, yet it wasn't painful.

As his hand clasped around your wrist, his entire body tensed, transforming into a living statue. You couldn't help but flinch slightly at the abruptness of his reaction, your body instinctively recoiling even as his grip held you in place.

"I-It's okay, I promise," you managed to say, your voice deliberately calm and steady to avoid startling him further. You took a deep breath, choosing your words carefully. "I'm just going to help you undress for the shower... I promise I won't hurt you or do anything you're not comfortable with. We're just getting you cleaned up, that's all."

Your words didn't seem to have much effect at first. His eyes narrowed suspiciously, and his jaw flexed with tension. You remained patient, maintaining a soothing tone and open body language. "Take all the time you need," you added softly. "I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere. It’s just you and me." His eyes scanned you intently, searching for any hint of deception or ill intent. You met his gaze steadily, allowing him to see the sincerity in your eyes. After what felt like an eternity, his grip on your wrist slowly loosened until he finally released you completely.

Second time's the charm. You reached out with steady hands, your fingers finding the first buckle on his tactical suit. With careful precision, you unfastened it, the metallic click echoing softly in the bathroom. Then, you moved to the next one, and the next, methodically working your way through each fastening. The process was slow but deliberate, each buckle giving way under your patient touch until, finally, the last one came undone. You paused, surveying your handiwork as the suit lay open, no longer confining him.

With the buckles undone, your attention turned to the decked out belt encircling his hips. You grasped the front, feeling the sturdy material beneath your fingers. You pulled the belt free from the thick buckle, the black leather sliding smoothly through the loops. As you removed the belt, you took care to lay it gently on the floor beside you, the heavy belt colliding with the tile was bound to make him jump and you didn’t want that.

The belt now removed, you returned your focus to the suit itself. Your hands found the straps, and you began to loosen them, pulling them out slowly and methodically. His uniform reminded you of a rehashed straight jacket, the uniform nearly acting just as one. When the tight suit gradually relinquished its grip, you noticed an immediate change in the soldier’s demeanor. The restrictive pressure eased, and you could see his chest rise and fall more freely. It was as if a weight had been lifted, allowing him to breathe deeply for the first time in who knows how long.

You watched, a mix of concern and relief washing over you, as he took in several deep breaths. The realization hit you then, a jolt of disbelief and worry. The suit had been so constricting that it had barely allowed him to breathe properly. The thought was infuriating. What kind of protection was that? What twisted logic had led to the creation of gear that endangered its wearer almost as much as it shielded them? You found yourself shaking your head in disbelief. What the hell...

"There we go...good..." You praised calmly, your voice a soothing whisper in the quiet room. He stood before you, now shirtless, his muscular frame tense with anticipation as he awaited your next move. Your eyes couldn't help but linger on his exposed torso, taking in every detail of his battle-worn body.

His skin was a canvas marked by the harsh realities of his past. Bruises in various stages of healing painted his flesh in a morbid palette of purples, yellows, and greens. Fresh cuts, angry and red, intermingled with older, silvery scars, creating a chaotic tapestry across his skin. Each mark had a different cause, accidental, intentional, self inflicted.

Your gaze was inevitably drawn to the most prominent feature: the junction where flesh met metal at his shoulder. The scar tissue surrounding his prosthetic arm was a sight that made your heart ache. It wasn't a clean, surgical line as one might expect, but rather a jagged, angry border that spoke of crude methods and little regard for the body it was attached to. The metal seemed to dig cruelly into his flesh, as if it were trying to consume more of him. You couldn't help but wonder about the pain he must have endured during the procedure, imagining how they had torn him apart with brutal efficiency, prioritizing function over comfort or aesthetics.

Despite the visible evidence of his suffering, he stood tall and stoic, awaiting your next move with a mixture of trust and trepidation in his eyes.

You offered him a gentle, comforting smile, you were acutely aware of his attempts to appear strong, but the reality of his fear was unmistakable. In that spare room, his demeanor reminded you of a cornered animal, flinching and retreating whenever the door creaked open. He cowered from you, even when you tried to give him water to drink. The sight tugged at your heartstrings, you didn’t know much of what happened just yet, but you knew whatever it was must’ve been utterly horrific.

"I'm going to help you out of your trousers now," you explained in a soft, reassuring tone. "Then we'll get you into the shower. The warm water will help you feel better, I promise." You paused, giving him a moment to process your words before adding, "Is that okay with you?"

He remained motionless. His lack of response was telling - not a nod, not a word, not even a flicker of acknowledgment in his eyes. He simply stood there, statuesque, as if bracing himself for whatever was to come next. The stillness was almost eerie, so you took a deep breath, steeling yourself for what was going to come. You truly hoped he wouldn't begin to put up a fight randomly, you knew you couldn't take him if he did.

You grasped the zipper of his pants and slowly pulled it down, the metallic sound echoing in the quiet room. As the fabric loosened, you gently tugged at the waistband, shuffling them down his muscular thighs and allowing the pants to fall around his ankles. Without a word, he stepped out of them, his movements controlled as he jerked his foot to get the leg of the pants off completely.

His gaze remained fixed on you, his expression betraying no hint of discomfort or self-consciousness at his state of undress. You found yourself averting your eyes, a mix of respect for his privacy and your own sudden shyness causing you to look away.

Turning your attention to the shower, you reached out and adjusted the taps, your hand testing the water until it reached a comfortably warm temperature, you could always adjust it upon request. The sound of cascading water filled the bathroom, creating a soothing ambiance. Once satisfied with the water's warmth, you looked back towards him, your arm extending in a welcoming gesture towards the bathtub. "Come on," you encouraged, your voice soft and inviting, "it's nice and warm." A gentle smile played on your lips, your expression meant to convey comfort and reassurance.

But even with your efforts, he remained motionless, his feet seemingly rooted to the spot where he stood. His lack of movement prompted you to maintain your encouraging demeanor, your smile unwavering as you waited patiently for him to make a decision.

The steam from the shower began to fill the room, creating a misty atmosphere that hung between you, yet he showed no signs of stepping forward or retreating. He just stood there, planted like a tree. You frowned, seeing that he wasn't going to budge.

"Hey, it's okay," you said softly, "It's just water, and it's nice and warm. I promise it will feel so good. You've been shivering for a while now, and I bet the warmth will be really comforting for your cold skin. There's nothing to be afraid of." You continued to encourage him, your tone patient and understanding.

The soldier's reaction was tense and wary. His metal arm plates made a series of soft clicking sounds as he shifted his arm and adjusted his stance, his body language radiating discomfort and distrust, maybe even a hint of growing agitation. The way he eyed the water, you could have sworn he thought you were about to subject him to some form of aquatic torture. His entire demeanor screamed of deep-seated fear and suspicion.

"It's alright, really... Look, see?" You demonstrated by reaching out and touching the water, letting your fingers trail through the warm liquid. You made sure he could clearly see that the water didn't cause you any harm or discomfort. Could he be afraid of the water? The concept seemed strange, but then again, you didn't really know or understand the full extent of his experiences or traumas. You had made so much progress with him already, and now all that remained was for him to sit under the water and allow you to wash him. It seemed so simple, and yet you could see the monumental struggle playing out behind his eyes.

He finally seemed to respond when he observed that you remained unharmed by the water, and he cautiously approached, his movements slow and deliberate. His eyes wore wariness with a flicker of curiosity, carefully scanning your form and ensuring you made no abrupt or threatening gestures. As he inched closer, his body language betrayed a conflicting desire for comfort and an instinctive need for self-preservation.

Once he had convinced himself of a relative level of safety, he gingerly stepped into the bath. The warmth of the water seemed to catch him off guard, and with an almost childlike lack of grace, he unceremoniously lowered himself into a sitting position with a loud thud and for a moment, he appeared startled by his own actions.

Now fully seated on the bottom of the tub, he allowed the soothing warmth of the water to cascade down his dirt-encrusted body. The grime that had accumulated over time began to loosen and swirl around him, running down his body and creating murky patterns at the bottom of the textured bathtub.

He sat motionless, gradually acclimating to the comforting warmth of the water cascading down his back in a gentle, soothing shower. It was foreign to him, a luxury he had been denied for far too long. His time with HYDRA had been bereft of such simple comforts; the organization was a cruel and unforgiving entity, more akin to a heartless taskmaster than a nurturing presence.

His experiences with something as harmless as water was vastly different to what you were treating him with now - he was subjected to harsh, icy streams forcefully directed at him, the intense pressure through the hose so severe it felt as though it was stripping away layers of his skin.

He remembers being forcibly submerged by his handlers, a cruel and twisted game that shattered his expectations of a simple, cleansing bath. What should have been a moment of respite transformed into a nightmarish struggle for survival, where he was forced to submit to their ruthless whims.

The memory of sharp, abrasive bristles tearing at his skin and the application of painful, saline substances lingers. He didn’t want to think about the unnecessary groping he encountered either, something he wished he forgot along with his life during the chair’s wipes.

These traumatic encounters left an indelible mark on his psyche, turning what should have been a basic human necessity into a source of fear and anxiety. The handlers' sadistic approach to something as fundamental as personal hygiene served as a constant reinforcement of their control over every aspect of his existence, even the most intimate and essential.

For him, the act of bathing became synonymous with vulnerability, pain, and the complete loss of autonomy, a far cry from the soothing, rejuvenating experience it was meant to be.

This gentle treatment you were providing was so different from the abusive handling he had endured in HYDRA, it almost caused him to panic, the feigning comforts he were offered by handlers before tricked him too many times, and he refused to let his guard down.

His glacial eyes gazed up at you, the poor man looked absolutely pitiful under the steamy water, his once greasy hair now thoroughly soaked as rivulets ran down the contours of his entire body. You took a breath and exhaled out a soft sigh, your hand slowly reaching for your own body wash. You didn't have any products specifically designed for men, so your expensive shampoo would have to suffice until you went shopping.

You pumped the bottle twice, watching as the clear, slightly viscous shampoo pooled into your open palm and the refreshing scent of cucumber and mint permeated the humid air, filling your nostrils with its crisp, clean aroma. You turned and addressed him softly, "Alright, I'm going to wash your hair now. Just try to relax and sit still for me, okay? This might feel a bit cold at first, but I promise it'll feel good once I start massaging it in."

The soldier regarded you with an inscrutable expression, his eyes betraying only a hint of that fight-or-flight instinct, his mind was reeling as he battled the urge to respond to your presence. You knew he had the strength to easily break your arm if he chose to, so you tried your best to be as slow and careful as possible. Your fingers delicately threaded through his hair, methodically working the shampoo into a rich lather. You watched as the suds multiplied and foamed, the soapy shampoo pure white on top and slowly stained the closer it was to his scalp.

You noticed that every so often he would flinch ever so slightly or instinctively pull away from your hands. You wondered if he had hidden injuries or tender spots on his scalp, or bruises or cuts concealed beneath his hair, or maybe knots of tension that had formed from prolonged stress or blunt impacts. His hair must’ve been yanked around, his scalp was extremely tender and while you did your best to soothingly massage, he didn’t enjoy it as much as you hoped because of the discomfort there.

"It's okay, I understand it might be a bit uncomfortable. I’m just getting all that pesky dirt and grime out." You spoke in a gentle, reassuring tone, moving a little bit quicker so you could rinse and move on. After thoroughly rinsing his hair, you applied conditioner in the same manner as the shampoo, and then rinsed it out again. He looked much better now, his hair was now clean, wet, and sleek, with a smooth texture and a noticeable shine. It was so much better than before, and it had to feel better too.

Your hand extended under the rain of water, dampening a soft, handheld washcloth and applying a generous amount of body wash to it. You worked the cloth until it produced a rich lather. The soldier moved which caught your eye, you looked up at him and saw he had recoiled, his gaze fixed warily on the washcloth. He became noticeably slower and more hesitant, his eyes widening slightly as he regarded the cloth with apparent apprehension, as if it posed a threat. You furrowed your brow at his reaction to the cloth, he looked at it like you held a weapon of some kind.

"Hey, it’s alright…this won’t hurt. It’s just a cloth, see? A cloth with some soap," you said softly, you felt so torn up about his reaction to the simplest of things. "I won't hurt you, I promise, I'm just going to wash you a bit...get all that dirt and blood off you." You raised your hand holding the washcloth in a placating gesture. “It’s warm, it will feel good scrubbing off all that dirt, you’ll be nice and clean.”

Gradually, he relented and shifted backwards to where he had been sitting, permitting you to gently glide the damp cloth across his skin, meticulously removing every trace of grime from his body. After a few minutes of washing him, you noticed he was beginning to find comfort in the experience. His eyelids drooped, and his head dipped down slightly, a tired expression settling over his features as he succumbed to the soothing sensation of your ministrations. He wasn’t exactly serene, but he was too drowsy to focus on much else other than the feeling of the rag gliding over his back and flesh arm.

You adjusted him and you tended to his metal arm, diligently working the cloth between the intricate plates and joints of titanium, ensuring that no speck of dirt remained. You weren’t exactly sure how the arm was cleaned prior to finding him, but clearly there wasn’t a worry about rust or anything of the sort. The soldier remained motionless, allowing you unhindered access as the warm water cascaded over his back, leaving a rosy tinge in its wake. He enjoyed the hot temperature, he hadn’t felt hot water in decades.

Your focus then shifted to his lower extremities, concentrating on scrubbing his legs and feet. As the rag moved up to a more sensitive area, you paused, pulling the rag off his skin and slowly extending the washcloth to him. You pointed towards his privates, you softly instructed, "You can…get right there, I’d rather not touch you in that spot."

The furrow on the soldier's brow gave away his visible confusion, his eyes darting between you and the offered rag with a mixture of uncertainty and hesitation. It was clear that he was contemplating with the decision of whether to accept your gesture or not, if there was an ulterior motive, or if this was some sort of test. After what seemed like an eternity of internal debate, he finally extended a trembling hand towards you. His movements were slow and deliberate, as if he were approaching a wild animal rather than a simple cloth.

He grasped the rag from your outstretched palm, his fingers curling around it slowly. Once in possession of the cloth, he set about the task of cleaning himself. His actions, though quick, lacked the assurance of someone accustomed to such basic self-care. Each motion seemed so carefully calculated, as if he were relearning a long-forgotten, essential skill. It had been so long since he was allowed to clean himself. His movements were unsteady, his hands quivering slightly as he went about his ablutions.

It had clearly been an extensive period since he had been granted even this small measure of independence. The concept of autonomy was a luxury he had been denied for far too long.

When he was done with his hurried cleansing, the soldier's gaze immediately sought yours out. His eyes, still holding the rag, were filled with expectation, awaiting your next command. His posture tense and ready to respond to whatever instruction you might provide. The rag remained clutched in his hand, as if he were unsure whether to return it or continue holding onto this small token of independence.

"Good, you're all done," you offered a warm smile to him. Despite the wounds still visible on his body, you felt a sense of accomplishment knowing that at least the layers of dirt and grime had been washed away, your work getting him clean would pay off and be better for the both of you. You reached over and turned off the water, the sudden silence broken only by the soft dripping from the showerhead. "Let's get you dried off," you said softly, gesturing for him to step out of the shower.

He complied wordlessly, his movements careful as he stepped onto the bathroom mat. You couldn't help but notice how vulnerable he looked, standing there dripping wet, his eyes never leaving your face, his body completely littered in discoloration. Reaching for a large, fluffy towel, you unfolded it and wrapped it around his shoulders, enveloping him in its warmth to fight off the rapidly cooling water droplets all over him.

As you began to slowly dry his body, you noticed a change come over him. His softened expression now returned to its usual blank mask and the brief relaxation he showed in the shower was long gone by now. His body returned to the stiffness he had before he got in. His eyes remained fixed on you, following your every movement with an intensity that was almost unnerving.

You worked in the quiet calm of the bathroom, carefully patting dry each part of his body, mindful of his injuries. The soldier remained motionless, allowing you to maneuver him as needed, but offering no assistance, like a doll. It was as if he had retreated back into himself, leaving only an empty shell for you to tend to. You wondered what he was thinking behind those watchful, guarded eyes, they were pretty up close. Glacial, stormy blue irises that had been glued to you since you started to tend to him.

After drying him off, you were lucky to find a pair of boxers in your apartment and helped him into them, where they came from wasn’t something you could remember at the moment, but you were glad you had them. He cooperated as you dressed him, then stood there clutching the towel around himself like a security blanket.

His gaze fixed on you with a mixture of expectation and vulnerability, as if silently asking for further guidance or comfort. His wide eyes blinked languidly, and his soft pink lips formed an almost imperceptible pout, giving him an endearing, slightly lost appearance.

Lost. He embodied the word entirely. Physically, mentally, emotionally.

Taking in his disheveled state, you smiled a little, "How about we get your hair detangled, hm?" Your voice was warm and reassuring as you reached up, your fingers lightly brushing against the damp strands, feeling the water practically seep out of the ends.

The soldier's reaction was a mix of acceptance and hesitation. While he didn't outright reject the idea, there was a noticeable lack of enthusiasm in his demeanor. However he didn’t dare reject the idea, worried about any kind of retaliation. So he made his way to the stool nestled beneath the counter and lowered himself onto it. As he settled into position, maintaining a stoic silence, his eyes continued to convey that enigmatic expression, hinting at unspoken thoughts or emotions.

You positioned yourself behind him, your hands instinctively reaching for a comb and a bottle of detangling spray already sat out from your use earlier that day. You recalled how your fingers had encountered numerous knots and tangles when you washed his hair, and thinking about how knotted it looked dirty made you sigh outwardly.

The fine mist of the detangling spray settled on his hair as you applied it methodically, you guided the comb through his locks, working patiently to untangle any knots you encountered. You tried to be as gentle as possible, knowing not only were there a ton of knots, but you remembered his scalp was especially sensitive and sore.

Soldat remained still as a statue, his posture composed and unwavering. His disciplined demeanor allowed you to work unimpeded, your movements careful and unhurried. He maintained a firm grip on the towel draped securely around his body, the fabric acting almost like a barrier and protecting him from the world. You continued to work the comb through his hair, encountering tangles and knots that spoke of recent exertion or neglect.

The process of detangling was slow, your touch continued to be gentle yet purposeful, muttering soft apologies when you ran into an unexpected knot. Teasing apart the snarls with patience and skill, the resistance lessened, and you found yourself able to run the comb smoothly through his hair, the strands falling into neat alignment.

"There we are... much better," you praised softly, your voice barely above a whisper. The sight of his hair, now brushed out and free of tangles, felt like a monumental achievement. You couldn't help but admire how the clean, detangled strands caught the light, a stark contrast to their earlier disheveled state. Your fingers ran through his locks, gently ruffling the hair from being so flat against his scalp.

You couldn't help but notice the angry red lines marring his skin, peeking out from beneath the towel. The blotchy colors on his skin that ranged from purple to blue, it made you frown. Your instincts as a caretaker kicked in, and you found yourself wondering if he would allow you to tend to those wounds. Hesitantly, you reached out, your fingers barely grazing the edge of the towel just wanting to get a better look at them.

In an instant the soldier suddenly sprang to life, standing with such force that the stool he had been perched on skidded across the tile floor, the harsh scraping sound shattering the previous calm. He retreated to the far corner of the bathroom, his body language screaming defensiveness.

His eyes, which had been closed or downcast for most of your interaction, now bore into you with an intensity that made you freeze. They held fear, yes, but also a raw, primal aggression that sent a shiver down your spine. It was the look of a cornered animal, ready to lash out at the slightest provocation.

You immediately backpedaled, not wanting to trigger any aggression from him. "Okay, okay... no wound checks," you reassured as you raised your hands in a gesture of surrender. You took a step back, giving him more space, silently cursing yourself for pushing too far, too fast. The fragile trust you had built over the past few minutes seemed to hang by a thread, you didn’t want to snap the little you had.

Your words had a calming effect on Soldat, who clutched the towel tightly in his fists, ensuring it remained securely wrapped around him. His gaze drifted down to his soiled attire, prompting you to shake your head in disapproval. "No, those definitely need to be washed," you explained, your voice dropping to a thoughtful murmur, "And to be honest, these can hardly be called proper clothes. I'll make sure to get you some suitable ones tomorrow, alright?"

Soldat's eyes met yours once more, his gaze still carrying a hint of coldness and wariness, but he managed a brief, almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgment. You gathered his discarded garments and deposited them into the washing machine, silently hoping that the combination of leather and other materials wouldn't prove too much for the aging appliance. The damn thing had to be ran twice already, you just couldn’t afford to buy a new one right now.

As you busied yourself with setting the appropriate wash cycle, Soldat seized the opportunity to hastily retreat to the room that had been designated as his temporary living space.

He immediately gravitated towards the floor, as he had been the past few days. You hadn't seen him use the bed at all, rather stay cuddled in the corner or inside the small space of the closet. The towel long forgotten and laid splayed out on the floor, he ripped the blankets off the bed in one fluid motion and proceeded to wrap himself up in them, burrowing beneath the layers of fabric for comfort and security. The blankets having replaced the towel's symbolism for safety.

You wished he’d rest on the bed rather than the floor, but you knew better than to try to alter what he was doing. Leave him to be comfortable on his own, that is the best thing to do in this situation. And if Soldat wants to sleep on the floor in a huddle of blankets, then fine.

You approached the doorway, peering inside to see him nestled in a cocoon of blankets. His exhaustion was written on his face, yet there was a noticeable improvement in his appearance. The layer of grime and perspiration that had clung to his skin was now gone, you knew he had to feel somewhat refreshed.

You cautiously stepped into the room and made your way towards him, acutely aware of how his body tensed at your approach. In response to your closer proximity, he burrowed deeper into the thick comforter that enveloped him, seeking refuge from your presence.

A soft, reassuring sound escaped your lips as you placed a water bottle within his reach. As you anticipated, he remained motionless under the comforter, offering no acknowledgment of your thoughtful action. He stayed hidden beneath the layers of fabric, like a child seeking shelter from imaginary monsters lurking in the shadows.

"Get some rest, Soldat..." you whispered gently, your voice barely above a murmur. "I'll be down in the other room if you need anything. Don't hesitate to call for me, even for the smallest thing." With that reassurance, you slowly stood back up and turned to walk out. A faint noise suddenly caught your attention, causing you to pause mid-step.

The gentle rustling of the comforter drew your gaze back towards the floor, curiosity piquing your interest. The soldier cautiously peeked out from under the blanket's edge. His tired, weary eyes met your inquisitive ones, there was a beat of silence.

"Спасибо," the soldier rasped out, his voice meek and slightly hoarse from disuse, but still loud enough for you to hear clearly.

"You're welcome..."

Dividers by @/strangergraphics

Cover images from Pinterest. I do not claim them as my own.

[fearcvlt]

❝end of the water(feel)❞

pairing. caleb x fem!reader note. i only downloaded this game for the caleb debut and... yeah, he got me locked in. very new to lads, might be some slight timeline inaccuracies for which i apologise. needed to write virgin caleb so bad though so... forgive me. reblogs/feedback forever appreciated. mwah <3 tags. nsfw, mdni. loss of virginity. p in v. creampies. pre-mature ejaculation. kind of obsessive caleb. psuedocest. panty sniffing. fingering. yearning. jealousy but it's not a focus. pipsqueak is here... not sorry. no use of y/n. 2.9k words.

Caleb finds it easy to remember the moment he realised he was madly in love with you.

He’s sure it had always been the case — he’d spent the majority of his childhood following you around like a lost puppy, doing anything he could just so you could smile at him. Feeling things and knowing what you’re feeling are two different situations entirely, however.

He’s always thought you were pretty, but you weren’t the only girl he would look at and think that (it just so happened he ended up looking at you more than any other girl he knew). It wasn’t until you got your first ever confession that he realised how much he disliked the fact that other boys could find you pretty, too.

The note was from a classmate of yours. It shouldn’t have even been a blip on Caleb’s radar — nothing more than an innocent, heartfelt little confession from someone who liked you. It made an unfamiliar feeling twist in his gut as he watched you giggle as you read over the letter. His blood felt like it was burning in his veins. He was unable to keep the scowl off of his face, unable to prevent the burn of his eyes when he realised he’d never gotten you to smile at him that way.

Caleb had to flee so you didn’t see his reaction, brewing in a mix of jealousy and self pity as he curled up on his bed, tears stinging his eyes.

The following day, Caleb played the protective big brother card for the very first time, practically snarling at the boy until his face was splotchy and red and he looked like he might cry. He should have felt bad. He didn’t. He’s sure he’d never been prouder.

You were upset, of course. The very first person to ever confess to you had suddenly started avoiding you at all costs — you thought you had done something wrong.

Caleb was more than happy to offer you a shoulder to cry on. He held you close to his side, his heart thumping at the close proximity, eyes wide with wonder as you only snuggled up closer. He remembers thinking that you were still the prettiest girl he had ever laid eyes on, even as you were crying. He even remembers the promise he had made.

“I’ll protect you, pipsqueak. Forever.”

Maybe he thought he’d grow out of the crush one day. Maybe he just didn’t care. All he knew was that every boy that came after the first was never good enough for you. No one was good enough for you. Caleb kept them all away, but it was for your own good. You’d understand that eventually.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Caleb’s feelings only worsened with time.

What started off as an innocent crush devolved into something more akin to obsession as he grew. He was climbing closer and closer to his mid-twenties, and yet he still felt like a small child carefully guarding his favourite toy when he was in your presence.

His thoughts began steering into dangerously non-brotherly territory when he came home from the Aerospace Academy for one summer to find you had already returned. You had… changed. There was a newfound confidence surrounding you since you began your hunter training, like you’d grown into yourself in the time he was gone. It felt almost bittersweet — he had called you pipsqueak out of habit, but the nickname didn’t feel quite right anymore. You laughed and pushed his hand away as he ruffled your hair. He didn’t like it, yet somehow your touch made his face heat up now.

Caleb liked feeling needed. He wanted to feel proud of you for coming out of your shell and gaining independence from him, but he couldn’t. He hated the idea that he needed you so badly, but you might not need your big brother as much anymore.

The first time it had happened was an accident. He had insisted he would do your laundry for you when you came home tired one day. He’d tucked you into bed all tight, pressing a kiss to your temple to silence your complaints.

You were all comfy and half-way to dozing off, and Grandma had already turned in for the night, so he was alone as he carried your things to the laundry room.

He wanted to make sure he did a good enough job that you would realise you could still rely on him. He carefully separated each article of clothing before placing them into the machine, making sure none of the colours would bleed, that anything delicate wouldn’t shrink or tear.

His fingers brushed lace, and he swallowed thickly. The offending material belonged to a pretty pink pair of panties. His chest started heaving as he stared down at them, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

When the fuck did you start wearing things like this?

He didn’t like it. He absolutely fucking hated the idea of you getting these to impress some other guy. He hated himself for the way all the blood in his brain seemed to immediately rush south and impede any reasonable thoughts from entering his brain.

He brushes his thumb over the fabric once. Twice. A third time when he notices the gusset of the panties feels different against his skin.

His gaze flicks quickly to the laundry room door. He waits, perking up like a dog waiting to be scolded as he listened for any sounds in the home. When he found none, he shuffled closer to the door, shutting it before bracing himself against it with an arm. Slowly, cautiously, he raises the fabric to his nose.

He inhales once, and immediately realises he’s doomed. His eyes flutter shut as he lets out a shaky inhale, burying his face deeper into the fabric. He presses his forehead to the door, his free hand sliding down his body so he can palm at his steadily hardening cock through his shorts.

He gasps instantly at the contact, panting into the fabric. His tongue darts out to taste them, and all it takes is two more shaky touches before he’s coming in his pants.

Caleb’s eyes widen and he jerks back like he’s been burned, the panties quickly being flung back into the washing basket. He switches on the half full machine, quickly skittering out of the room to have a cold shower.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“I thought you would grow out of being so fussy,” Caleb scolds lightly, brows furrowing as he watches you wrinkle your nose at the sight of some of the vegetables on your plate. “That’s why you’re so short, pipsqueak. You haven’t been eating your greens.”

“I’m not even short,” is your immediate response, tongue coming out childishly. Caleb can feel the heat creeping up the back of his neck. “And I do eat vegetables. Just not… these ones.”

“Riiiiight. Are you sure that’s the case? You’re terrible at lying to me, you know.” He pauses, tilting his head with a small smile. He places a hand on the back of your chair, leaning in closer as he picks up your fork, stabbing it through some of the remaining food on your plate.

“Open wide, pipsqueak. Colonel Caleb has a very important flight to land.” He teases, doing the whole here-comes-the-aeroplane act with far too much enjoyment.

“I’m not seven anymore, Caleb. That stopped being cute over a decade ago—“

“Ah-ah. I don’t remember asking for you to argue with me. What stopped being cute a decade ago was that bratty attitude of yours.”

He pokes the tip of your nose with the hand that was previously resting on the back of your chair, grinning as his hand slips lower. He runs his thumb over your bottom lip without thinking, trying to pry your mouth open.

Bad idea, bad idea, bad-fucking-idea.

Your breathing hitches, and your lips part instinctively. There is no way the heat he feels rushing to his cheeks haven’t made it abundantly clear how helpless he is when it comes to you. He lets out a shaky breath, trying to focus on your wide eyes rather than how hot your breath feels against his thumb (and how easy it would be to feel just how warm and wet the inside of your mouth is).

Absolutely fucking terrible idea.

His pants are feeling particularly strained right now, and he’s praying to ever deity he’s ever heard the name of that you haven’t noticed. Caleb isn’t good at handling how his body chooses to react about you, but he’s always been great at deflecting and teasing you.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, praying you don’t notice how breathless he is. He can see every imperfection on your face right now, every single lash as you look up at him. God, was he always this close? It’s taking all of his restraint not to lean in closer.

“You don’t need to be shy around me, you know. It’s only me. You trust me, don’t you?” You nod, and he gives you a lazy smile. “You’re so pretty. Sometimes I worry about leaving you all alone.”

Of course, by sometimes, he means he sometimes gets so nauseous when he lets his mind wander to what you might get up to without him around that it makes him dizzy. Not that he would ever vocalise that fact.

“Pretty?” You repeat in a voice that’s so soft and sweet and hopeful that it’s dizzying.

“Pretty.” He confirms, dropping his forehead against yours.

Caleb doesn’t remember leaning in to kiss you, but suddenly his lips are on yours, and you melt. He smiles against your lips, his fingers trailing along your jawline before they’re moving up to cup your cheek. It’s clumsy and sweet — he can tell you’ve never done this before, and that makes something warm blossom in his chest.

He wants to ruin you, but he’s not entirely sure you haven’t ruined him, first.

He deepens the kiss, his tongue swiping along your bottom lip until it parts to let him inside. He brushes his tongue against yours until you’re practically a puddle in his arms, only pulling back when he needs to breathe.

“Pipsqueak,” he murmurs, eyes solely focused on your spit-slick lips. “Can I take you to your room?”

You nod.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Is this okay?” Caleb whispers, brows furrowed in concern at the way you hiss as he slips two fingers inside of you. He withdraws them slightly, leaning down to spit on your cunt before slowly pushing them back in. They move easier now, and he finds himself letting out a relieved sigh as the crease between your brows melts away.

“Good. It’s… it’s good.”

“Tell me if I hurt you, okay?” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he starts to thrust his fingers into you, gently scissoring you open. “Or if I do anything you don’t like.”

You nod again, and he rewards you by brushing his thumb over your clit experimentally. Your walls clench around his digits as you moan, so he does it again. “Good girl.”

His touch is more exploratory than anything. He watches your face closely the entire time, repeating the actions that make your nose scrunch up all cutely. He doesn’t stop until your cunt is practically drooling all over him, leaving him very at risk of coming in his pants.

“I’m going to be gentle, okay? Are you ready?” He asks softly, hands trembling as he slides his fingers out of you. His hands move to shed off his own clothes, his body draping over yours. He doesn’t make any move to do more until you agree.

“Yeah. Please, Caleb.”

Caleb has dreamed of this moment. He’s almost tempted to pinch himself, just to be sure this is really happening. His lips part with a strangled groan as he pushes the tip of his cock past your entrance, his head tipping forwards.

“Oh… you’re so tight.” He gasps, practically shaking as he continues to slowly press forwards. His hips meet the back of your thighs, and he can’t help but stare down at where the two of you are connected in awe.

He rolls his hips experimentally, teeth sinking into his lower lip as he feels the way you try to greedily suck him back in. It’s too much and not enough, all at the same time. You whine, squirming underneath him, trying to get him to move again.

“So good… feels so good,” he practically whimpers, repeating the movement a few times so that his eyes can take in the way he disappears within you. “Fuck. I love you, y’know that?”

Of course you do. Caleb has never been shy when it comes to showing how deeply he cared about you, but the words feel different now. More charged.

You say you love him, too, and Caleb grunts. His hips stutter, then he pauses. Blinks. His eyes flick downwards, a flush overtaking his face as he watches his cum start to seep out of you, pushing past the barrier his cock provides as the droplets slide down your ass to stain the sheets. You’re still panting, whining, begging him for more.

He swallows. Hard. His throat bobs as he pushes past the sensitivity to start rocking into you with more confidence this time, his now half-hard cock slowly stirring back to life. He knows you must have felt it, the sudden warmth flooding you. Fuck, that’s so embarrassing. He’s been waiting for this moment for years, saved himself just for you, and that was all it took?

He leans over you a little more, pressing deeper in an attempt to make up for it. Your back arches and you let out the prettiest sound he’s ever heard, lips parting in a way that makes him feel light-headed. Suddenly, he’s not so worried anymore. He smiles, letting out a soft little laugh as he presses a kiss to your temple, fucking into you slow and deep.

“You look so beautiful like this.” He breathes. Running his nose along your cheek, your jawline, down the line of your neck. He inhales deeply, lashes fluttering as he takes in your scent. His chest is starting to hurt from how fast his heart is beating, but he doesn't care. His entire focus is on you — the sounds you’re making, the way you feel as your cunt sucks him in, the warmth of your body pressed against his.

“I love you.” He says again, pressing his face into the crook of your neck. His arms wrap tight around your waist to hug your body tight against his own, leaning all of his weight onto you as he continues to thrust into you. His movements are almost lazy. He’s addicted to the feeling of being inside of you, the slow, languid drag of his cock. The way you gasp as he presses his hips flush to yours. He can’t stop smiling.

“I love you too, Caleb. Always… always loved you.” You gasp. Caleb hisses at the breathless sound of your voice, his thrusts growing harsher and more erratic.

He sits back on his heels, dragging you along with him. He keeps his grip on you tight, crushing you to his body as he fucks up into you, gasping and panting each time his cock sheathes itself fully within you.

“Close… I’m so close, baby. Cum, please… need to… need to feel you cum.” He grits out through his teeth, head lolling back as his fingers dig into the flesh of your back, desperately attempting to bring you closer. If he could, he’d merge your bodies together so he’d never have to be without you.

“Can’t… I can’t, need more—“ You gasp out in response.

Caleb groans, one of his hands slipping down your back and around your side, pressing itself between your two bodies so he can rub at your clit. Your core flutters around his length, a fresh wave of arousal setting your nerve endings on fire. You rock into his touch, grinding back down to meet his thrusts before you’re pressing up to chase the touch of his fingers.

Your body tenses, walls clenching around him as you come with a cry, arousal soaking him until its dripping down your thighs. You’re trying to kill him, he’s sure of it.

He finds it impossible to deny his release much longer. How could he, when you look so perfect against him like this, your expression hazy and blissed out. You looked utterly wrecked, and it was entirely his doing.

His hips jerk forwards shakily, a series of grunts and curses spilling past his lips as his cum fills you to the brim. He drops his forehead against your shoulder, both arms moving to wrap loosely around your waist to keep you close to his body.

He keeps you there for a moment before slowly lowering you back onto the mattress, gently draping his body over yours. He nuzzles your neck just to have another excuse to breath in your scent, the smell of sweat and sex mixing with something so distinctly you.

The silence is only broken as you whine, pushing at his chest. “Caleb, heavy.”

“Oh? Am I?” He teases, laughing against your neck as you try to wriggle free. He just tightens his grip. “Nuh-uh, pipsqueak. You’re stuck with me.”

He means it.

[marvelrivalsimagines]

Relationship Headcannons

Characters: Iron Fist, Luna Snow, Squirrel Girl

Prompt: One requester asked for Iron Fist and Squirrel Girl general relationship HCs and another asked for Luna Snow relationship HCs, so I put all three character headcannons into one post :)

Author’s note: When it comes to relationships HCs there’s so many things you can talk about! I know I didn’t cover every aspect of these relationships in the HCs but I also didn’t want this to get annoyingly long lol. I hope everyone enjoys this, especially the requesters!

Warnings: Brief mentions of chronic pain in Iron Fist’s section

While Lin has an outwardly laid-back attitude it would be a mistake to assume that this means he takes everything in his life casually. When Lin commits to something he dedicates his entire body and spirit to it and this includes your relationship. Any challenges your relationship might face, whether it’s an argument between the two of you or the time stream entanglement itself, Lin is ready to do whatever it takes to keep you in his life. 

Aside from his dedication to fighting for your relationship Lin is also dedicated to fighting for you. While there’s a lot to adjust to in his new role as the Iron Fist helping people and standing up for others is something Lin has always believed in. With him around you have the most supportive cheerleader who’s there for you in moments where you may be struggling. Whether you need someone to just listen to you vent for a moment or you’d like him to step into a situation to help you out Lin is more than willing to help. Real “they said no pickles on their burger” energy. 

When it comes to PDA Lin is comfortable with almost anything. While other people might shy away from PDA due to embarrassment, Lin is just too caught up with you to ever turn down a kiss or a hug in public. While he might get a bit red in the face if you really go over the top with your affections, Lin appreciates every moment of your attention that he gets. 

Lin’s main love language is physical touch. As mentioned before, Lin has no problem with PDA so when the two of you are alone you both can really indulge in each other's touch. It’s just something that comes so naturally to him; placing a hand around your waist as you both stand in the kitchen or wrapping the both of you up in the same blanket before starting up a movie. 

Lin was living a normal life before becoming the Sword Master and then Iron Fist. While he is up to these new challenges life has suddenly thrown at him, it can sometimes be a lot to take in and can cause Lin to be overwhelmed or stuck in his own head for a bit. So aside from the affection he gets from your physical touch, it can also be extremely grounding for him to be hugged or held by you. It pulls him out of his worries and back into the present with you. 

Lin also deals with chronic pain from the fragments of his sword that are embedded in his hands. He’s come up with his own routines to try to alleviate that pain, and methods of coping with the pain when it is particularly bad. It may take some time for Lin to feel comfortable with being vulnerable enough to show you just how much this affects him. But, if you offer to help him whenever you notice he’s experiencing more pain than usual, and especially if you take the time to learn how he manages his pain and help him in those routines, Lin swears he’s never felt more seen or loved. 

While it’s impossible to completely alleviate his pain, for Lin it’s more about knowing that someone truly cares for him, and that while he puts his body on the line to save others you’re thinking about how to help him. The fact that you’re willing to put aside this time in your day and put all of your focus into this moment just to try to temporarily help with some of his pain makes his love for you grow even stronger. 

When it comes to date night and spending time together Lin has a preference for more relaxed activities and places. As the protector of K’un-Lun he spends his day, figuratively and literally, running around the city and fighting crime. For as much energy as Lin has, even he comes home tired most days after his duties as Iron Fist are finished. And there’s nothing better for sore muscles than cuddling with you on the couch and putting on some cheesy comfort movie. 

After an especially rough or tiresome day Lin would, figuratively, cry tears of happiness if he came home to a home cooked meal made by you. It doesn’t have to be anything complex or worthy of a michelin star, just knowing that you were thinking of him like this while he was gone touches his heart. As a hero spends his days protecting others, it means a lot to be cared for in return. 

In terms of a date night out, I can see Lin being the kind of person who’s more adventurous with his food tastes. He’d enjoy going to a restaurant with you that’s advertising some new food that’s either really spicy, is a type of food you don’t get often where you live, or has some unusual ingredients. He’s going to be joking around the entire time hyping up his excitement to try this new food. And when it finally gets to the table he’s going to play up his reaction to try and make you laugh. 

Lowkey I also think that Lin is the kind of person who eats his food really fast. Like you go out to dinner with him and while you’re just three bites into your food he’s already done. Then he’s looking at your side of fries like “Are you gonna finish that? 😳”

Having his significant other also be a hero would be fun and exciting, but it also might cause some worries for Lin. Lin would really enjoy training with you, learning about your skills and powers, and potentially thinking of ways he can learn from you by incorporating some of your tips into his own fighting style. He would also really enjoy being able to open up to you about some of the struggles of being a hero, like the pressure you put on yourself or how to cope when things don’t always go right. He’d really appreciate that his partner can truly understand these struggles. I can also definitely see Lin starting a relationship with someone he first met as a hero, probably a hero he’s looked up to simped for for some time. 

But at the same time, Lin has some insecurities about his title as the Iron Fist. Lin knows he’s earned this title and that he's just as much of an Iron Fist as those who have come before him, but there are still so many heroes who question him and compare him to Danny Rand (cough cough that Moon Knight voice line). This causes some worries to creep in; did you ever interact with Danny as a hero? Do you ever think about how Lin compares to the previous Iron Fists? 

If you’re fighting alongside each other in a fight, Lin is of course concerned for you but trusts you to be careful. His fighting style is highly mobile so he takes a ‘best defense is a good offense’ approach with the goal of taking out enemies before they become a problem for you. And even with that, he would still do his best to check in on you during the fight to make sure you’re doing okay. 

As much as Lin hates to see you hurt in any way, it’s comforting for him to get to patch up any cuts or bruises post fight. He cringes at the sight of your injuries, but the physical contact really assures him that you’re still alive and well.

Dating Luna Snow, or as you get to know her, Seol Hee, is surprisingly chill. No pun intended While it might be easy to think that the life of a K-Pop superstar would be all mansions and fast cars, it’s important to Hee that she never loses touch with the people around her. After all, the entire reason she wants to be both an artist and a hero is to help people. So when she comes back home to you from a sold out show, all she really wants to do at the end of the day is enjoy some time as a ‘normal person’. 

That’s not to say that there aren't certain benefits to dating a world famous super star, if you want to embrace that. As much as Hee enjoys the stage and the limelight she’s also experienced some of its drawbacks such as drama obsessed reporters and the ruthlessness of public opinion online. Going public about your relationship together would potentially pull you into all of that and Hee would never force you into that kind of life if it wasn’t something you were ready for. 

Whether you choose to embrace the attention or would like to keep the relationship private, Hee supports the decision and respects you no matter what. Either way, you’re getting a love song written about you. The only difference is if the rest of the world knows that the famous Luna Snow only has you in mind as she sings the lyrics. 

Levels of PDA would also depend on if your relationship is public, since kissing the pop star out in public would expose your relationship pretty quickly if you’re trying to keep things private. But even if your relationship is known to the public, Hee is pretty reserved when it comes to PDA. She’s comfortable with hand holding or a quick kiss to the cheek, but anything beyond that she’d like to keep in private. 

It’s not that she doesn’t enjoy your touch, she just enjoys keeping the physical intimacy between the two of you completely private. She would rather enjoy your touch at home where neither of you have to worry about how others may be watching or perceiving you and you can both be carefree about your love. 

Hee’s main love language is quality time. As both an international superstar and a super hero her schedule is filled to the brim. She rarely gets time to herself and sometimes when she does get a break from her pop stardom, she can be suddenly called into action as a superhero for an emergency. Hee has really learned the value of time, and her free time is especially precious to her. So it’s really a testament to how much she loves you when she chooses to spend that free time with you!

For as long as Hee has to wait to see you sometimes, she’s surprisingly open to do anything with you. For her, as long as she gets to be by your side it is definitely time well spent. Even if you just want to relax at home and do separate things, Hee is happy as long as she gets to enjoy your presence next to her. 

Again, with her down to earth nature, even the small, mundane things are special to Hee. Washing the dishes becomes a cherished memory as the two of you work together, teasing each other as Hee playfully splashes water on you or carefully places some of the bubbly soap suds on the tip of your nose. It’s your turn to tease Hee as the radio you turned on for some background noise starts to play one of her own hits, and you’re treated to a silly and lighthearted lip sync performance by the artist herself. 

Aside from the domestic nights at home, Hee does really enjoy the date nights the two of you plan where you both leave the home. She has a preference for beautiful, intimate date spots like dinner in a private booth at a restaurant or an evening of clothing shopping at local boutiques. 

Restaurants are one of the few places where Hee will flaunt her wealth a bit. What good is all the pop star money if she can’t use it to spoil you a bit? She ensures that both of you get to enjoy a private and gorgeous setting so you can simply focus on eachother, and maybe the picturesque skyline in front of you. She also might not say it out loud but Hee loves taking any excuse to see you dressed up in tailored formal wear. 

Speaking of, if the two of you go on a shopping date Hee absolutely loves taking you into the dressing room and making you try on endless outfits she’s picked out for you as you both have been walking through the store. As a pop star her sense of fashion is fine tuned to perfection, no matter what your personal style may be. Even if you have sensory issues with clothing, she tracks down the perfect piece that both accommodates your needs and compliments your figure. 

During the course of all of these dates Hee takes so many pictures of you so she can keep reminders of you while you may be away from each other. Her favorite photos of you are the candid ones where you look the most like yourself, though she also likes to occasionally ask others to take posed photos of the two of you together. She especially likes to do a lot of these ‘photo shoots’ right before she knows she’ll be especially far away, like if she is going to perform a concert in another country or if she knows her super hero duties will keep her away for an extended time. 

If you are also a superhero Hee is determined to make everyone realize what a power couple you two are. Hee works as both a pop star and a superhero because she wants to instill hope in people, so that people have something to keep them going in dark times. She would love to work alongside her partner to show the world that with both the strength of your powers and the strength of your relationship the two of you can conquer any threat and protect the hope that keeps humanity going. 

Hee would especially get a kick out of your superhero dynamic if you are the masked, quiet, and mysterious type of hero. Despite knowing the real you and that you’re much more complex than those three adjectives, the slightly mischievous side of Hee can’t help but play up the dynamic of the bubbly pop star and the brooding hero that others have placed you two into. The fans just love it!

If the two of you are fighting side by side, Hee is of course worried for your safety but she also has a lot of confidence in both of your skills. I mean, this is the woman who sassed Namor to his face while they were both standing right next to the ocean. She’s very confident in her own skills, and she knows that you’re great at your job as well. 

You’ve most likely fought side by side multiple times together, so it’s natural for the two of you to try and stick together during the fight. But if the two of you get separated for whatever reason, Hee makes sure to keep her eye on you in case you need any sort of help or healing. In a situation where multiple people on her team need healing, you’ll always get it first and she doesn’t really hide her bias. 

Doreen approaches your relationship like she does with everything in her life - with lots of excitement and optimism. With her there’s never going to be a time where you’ll doubt if this relationship is something Doreen truly wants. Even when she comes home from a long day of beating up super villains she still finds the energy to dedicate to you and your relationship.  

The relationship also tends to center around enjoying the now. Doreen is always in the moment, finding interest and excitement in what’s happening around her that day. With her optimistic outlook she doesn’t spend much time thinking about what might happen in the future. While it’s great to be with someone who reminds you to enjoy every day it also might be up to you to bring up important long-term topics, like if you two want to move in together. She’s not avoiding commitment or trying to duck out of tough conversations, she just finds it hard to worry about what you guys might be doing tomorrow when she has you in her arms right now!

Doreen is perfectly comfortable with PDA and if you’re comfortable with physical contact in public then Doreen will be initiating it a lot. She wouldn’t do anything crazy like make out with you in public though. Doreen enjoys the sweet honeymoon phase types of physical contact with you out in public, like resting her head on your shoulder or placing an arm around you while talking to other people. She especially loves to hold your hand out in public; on the crowded streets of New York City she’s gotta make sure you’re always right by her (and tippy’s) side! 

Doreen would also be the kind of person who enjoys giving you a quick, chaste kiss on the cheek or lips if you’re both enjoying some down time in public, like if you’re at a restaurant or just standing and waiting at a crosswalk together. But if you give her a kiss in public, you’ll get to see a flustered and blushing Doreen. No matter how long you two have been together, a quick, unexpected kiss in public has the power to completely derail her train of thought which is quite a feat. 

Doreen’s main way of showing love would be through her words. She loves to talk and that translates to a near infinite amount of compliments. Doreen’s compliments may not be poetry, but you can always tell that her words are genuine and come straight from her heart. Her lack of a filter can be a problem sometimes but when it comes to her sweet words for you it’s cute. 

Aside from getting lots of compliments you’ll also get every thought that comes to her brain. You’ll be doing some activity that doesn’t require 100% of your attention, like cleaning your room or cooking some dinner for the two of you, and Doreen will spend the entire time talking to you about the most random things. From what she spent her day doing, any hero activities she got up to, and the drama amongst the local wild squirrels; you’ll suddenly be an expert in it all with how much detail Doreen goes into while she’s talking to you.

And Doreen isn’t 100% aware that she does this. She’s not purposefully trying to distract you from what you’re doing or talk over you. If you have anything to add onto her stories she’ll be more than happy to hear your comments and jokes. In fact, knowing that you’re paying attention to what she’s saying and showing that you care about her thoughts just makes her fall even more in love with you

But back to why she talks so much. It’s just that Doreen loves you so much and she feels so comfortable around you that she can finally let all those hyperactive thoughts stored up in her brain out! She loves you, feels comfortable with you, and has a lot of thoughts about a lot of things so of course she’s just gotta let it all out around you. 

Doreen admittedly might struggle a bit if you sometimes need some silence, like if you’re overstimulated from the day or have a migraine. But she’s genuinely trying her best and is sincerely sorry if she’s too loud. As long as you communicate to her that you need some quiet Doreen will try to keep herself busy by either helping you out with whatever might be causing your need for silence or just doing her own thing until you’re ready to hear about what totally weird thing Tippy found in Central Park 

Because of Doreen’s seemingly endless energy she has a preference for dates where you two get to actively do something together, like maybe a trivia night at a restaurant/bar where she gets to show off her smarts or a quirky local business like an axe throwing place. 

There are lots of weird, interesting spots in New York and as a superhero who keeps her eyes peeled at all times Doreen knows about a lot of these places. So when it comes to date night Doreen is always full of suggestions. It’s honestly kind of impressive how she can almost always come up with some new place or activity that you two haven't done together yet. 

Out of all the places you two frequent together Doreen’s favorite recurring date spot is Central Park. There’s nothing Doreen loves more than to pack a homemade lunch with you and walk over to the massive and beautiful park to enjoy each other’s company and some nice weather. Some warm sunshine, squirrels chasing each other through the trees, and the comforting feeling of you resting up against her. What more could she ask for? 

That’s not to say that Doreen wouldn’t enjoy a quiet night in as well though. Squirrels get tired too, and sometimes a movie on the couch with some takeout is just what you need after a long day of beating up bad guys. 

If you’re a hero like Doreen she sees this as an opportunity to spend even more time together. She would love to go out on patrol together with you and it would honestly be a lot like hanging out with Doreen regularly. Her cheerful attitude really helps keep things light when you're fighting the insane villains of New York. 

If you’re in a major fight side by side, Doreen won’t baby you or try to tell you what to do but she’ll be trying her best to stick by your side. Just in case something starts to go wrong she wants to be by your side to make sure the two of you make it out okay. Doreen wouldn’t be able to forgive herself  if something happens to you while she could have intervened. 

Reassuring Doreen that you won’t be reckless and that you’ll always be looking out for each other will make her feel a lot better. While neither of you can guarantee the outcome, she just wants to know that no matter what happens during the fight you promise to come back home with her and Tippy.

[chxrry-lv]

희승 - Can’t get enough -> L.HS

Synopsis -> You didn’t expect to be laid down on your back in your enemy, heesung’s bed, as he had your legs spread just to eat you out.

Paring -> Horny-Enemy!Heesung x Sensitive-Fem!Reader.

Warning-> Sex, oral sex [ Reader receiving ], aftercare, cum, daddy kink and pet names.

Wc - 889 -> Click here.

DESC - ✿︑︒⚬∙︓·⠄ This is my only account!! any other account that has my work! Please don't be afraid to P.M me and help take it down.. & All works under - #✶.enha

Currently you were laid down on your back in your enemy, heesung’s bed, as he had your legs spread, and was eating you out.

How did you even end up in this situation..?

Well as you were at home earlier in the day, your parents who are friends with Heesung’s parents were invited to have a dinner with them at the lee’s residence.

Upon arrival you were upset, you literally had other plans with your friends for today but you were spending it with the person you despised. Heesung.

Why didn’t you like heesung..? Well it was because ever since you guys were in the same school and kindergarten, he has been bullying you for the whole entire time.

So getting to like him was never in the picture, so you didn’t understand how’d you allow him in your pants.

Maybe it was the way he touched you so gently which got you swooning or it’s the fact that he smelled good with the new cologne he has on.

Ether way you were on your back with him eating you out, “Mhm, If I knew you tasted so good.. I would have fucked you earlier..”

You covered your mouth as he licked up and down, and slurped up all your juices. Not caring if you were feeling sore or anything, typical Heesung.

Your eyes rolling back, as he sucked on your nub, causing your legs to shut. You looked down at him as he parted your legs once more, “Nuh huh, bad girl..I’m not done making out with your other pair of lips..”

You felt as he leaned down to your face and kissed you, all while his hand was on your pussy slowly but surely rubbing it.

“You’re so wet for me huh..?” He kisses your neck, “so wet for your daddy huh..?” You looked at hit with shock, like did he just refer to himself as daddy..?

You frowned your eyebrows a bit and looked away from him, “f-fuck you..” You rolled your eyes at him.

“Oh I would say that to but I’m..” He thrusts a finger into your pussy, “..ha.. already doing so..” You whimpered as the paste of his fingers started to increase. “You taste so much like strawberries..”

A knot started to form inside your stomach, you felt a need for him. You were wanting more of his fingers and now you were thinking about doing anything you could do to get it.

You looked at him, “p-please..”

With that he looked up at you, smirking, “Please what..?” He raised an eyebrow and lightly chuckled.

“L-let me.. c-cum..” You pleaded with him as he slowed his movements.

“Nuh huh..” He looked at you, and tut his teeth, “You have to call me daddy first.”

As you heard that your eyes widened, “F-fuck..”

He withdrew his hands and looked at you, “I mean it’s your choice if you want to come not mine..?” He looked at you turning away from you.

“F-fine.. fuck..” You looked at him and bit your bottom lip.

“Good choice..” He slowly started fingering you, “Let me hear you say it..”

You looked away and mumbled it.

He looked at you, “Didn’t quite catch what you said..” he said as he used his other hand to cup your face.

You looked back at him, “ugh ah.. fine..p-please let me c-cum daddy..” you looked at him pouting, your eyebrows frowning in pleasure as you felt him increase his speed.

“Good fucking girl..” Her mumbled and looked at you, “Hmh…”

You let out a moan and bite done on your bottom lip, “Ahhh..fuck.. i’m gonna..!”

“Moan my name when you cum..” he rubbed you in circles.

And with that you closed your legs as you cummed all over his finger, “Ah heesung..”

He then went down and licked your jucies up, “mhm so sweet.. one of a kind..”

You sighed as you felt him continue to eat you out and your legs stopped shaking and fell spread apart. You were sensitive from your last orgasm, so with him continuing you eat you out you shivered.

“Hees..s-stop..” when you said that he looked at you, nodding.

“Sorry I hot carrirrd away..” He mumbled under his breath.

You sat up and hugged him, well although he is your sworn enemy, he’s also the first person to see your private area.

Slowly he wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you close, “Mhm..sorry..”

You tilled your head, “Sorry..? What are you sorry for..?”

He looked down at you and sighed, “I’m sorry for the way I’ve treated you for the past number of years since we’ve known each other since kindergarten..do you forgive me..?”

Normally when heesung would apologise, he would be joking but this time he actually looked apologetic towards you.

“..I do..” You smiled a bit before burying your head into his chest”

“Thank you..”

Not after long, he gave you aftercare and you guys ate spicy chicken ramen noodles in his bedroom as you watched a movie on the tv. You bing in his hoodie and your underwear and socks, all while he was wearing a vest, grey sweatpants and socks.

You guys enjoyed the night together as you guys found yourself more drawn together, like a special force.

©chxrry-lv

[luxcuriousao3]

Fevered Mistakes

Summary: Ghost, a formidable Alpha, is captured and dosed with rut inducers. You are the omega he's tossed into a cell with. WC: 3429 Warnings: a/b/o, graphic nonconsensual sex, nonconsensual drugging, unprotected PIV sex, referenced torture/experimentation, blood, vomit, death, hurt no comfort, background ghoap, POV switches denoted by triple asterisks (***) Notes: Based off the first half of this post that I made a bit ago. Ngl, I don't really like how this one turned out, but y'all were begging for it so, so I feel bad just letting it rot in my google docs lol. There are two scrapped versions of a second chapter that would make this fic farrrrr less angsty, but idk if I'm ever gonna continue this, so I'm treating this like it's a one-shot with the warnings. If I ever do post a continuation, it will be linked on my masterlist, so you can check for it there. And hey, maybe if y'all share your thoughts about this in my inbox or whatever, it might entice the brainworms again lol. Taglist: @captainsherlockwinchester110283

There was a girl in the cell.

She was small and soft in the way that almost all omegas were, though it was her scent that really gave her status away. Sweet and alluring but soured by fear, it invaded his nostrils and made him all the more dazed. The blow to his head, the one that had landed him in this situation, would have been hard enough to kill him, had he not been an Alpha.

He’d been sloppy. Let his feelings for Johnny get in the way of procedure. But seeing his beta, laid out on the floor, bleeding from his head, still as a corpse… he couldn’t have controlled himself if he tried. And at that point, he hadn’t wanted to try.

He’d gotten distracted, and he’d paid the price.

It had been three days since he'd been captured, by his best estimate. It was hard to measure, between the head injury and being kept in a room with no windows. All he had to go off of was how often someone came in to torture him for information. He never gave any up, of course. Even compromised, he never would. He'd been trained far better than that.

Still, he wasn’t in very good shape. Beaten to hell and back, his head scrambled… his feet dragged uselessly as he was pressed up against the bars, one of his captors unlocking the cuffs on his wrists while the other two kept him restrained. The fourth jammed a syringe into his neck, injecting him with some unknown substance. Ghost tried to break free, to throw a punch or a kick, anything, but his reflexes were sluggish, his thoughts painfully slow. All he succeeded in doing was annoying them, and he got an elbow to the back of his neck for the trouble.

He was no omega, couldn’t be immobilized by a simple scruffing, but fuck if that shit didn’t still hurt like a bitch. He collapsed to the concrete floor of the cell with an animalistic howl, and the sourness in the omega’s scent spiked, her heart rate speeding up. Ghost couldn’t find it in himself to care—the very last of rational thought was beginning to abandon him as the pain spread from the back of his neck throughout his entire body, growing unbearable as it reached his groin. He felt like there was fire raging just beneath his skin, and his senses sharpened as his dark gaze locked onto the wide-eyed omega curled up in the corner, neck cracking unsettlingly with the speed at which he turned. He had time for only one more thought before instincts took over, his heart dropping out his arse as dread turned the blood in his veins to ice before it began to boil all over again.

Rut inducers.

***

When you woke up, you were escorted to the cell in which you spend your heats. That confused you, since your next heat wasn’t supposed to be for another month at least.

It also terrified you.

Though you didn’t remember much of what happened during your heats, you did remember the pain. The desperate, burning need for an Alpha’s knot, and the aching, gaping emptiness when you were denied it, the only thing that could bring you any relief. This cell held nothing but bad memories, and you didn’t want to be anywhere near it.

But you had no choice. For as long as you could remember, you did as you were told, the way a good omega should. In your sleep, you thought maybe you saw glimpses of a time when things were different, when there were no scientists in white coats and men and women in military uniforms controlling your life. But you knew those were just dreams. None of it was real.

You sat on the thin mattress in the cold, dank cell for hours before something finally happened that could explain why you were there. A man was brought in—massive and with a terrifying skull mask on his face—and you barely had to take a whiff of him as he was shoved into your cell with you to know that he was an Alpha. There was that familiar smell of damp, scorched earth after a lightning strike, and you knew from the intensity of it that he was angry. No, not just angry. Furious. The very air reeked of electricity and burning plastic, overwhelming any hint of his natural scent. This was an Alpha that was ready to rip, rend, tear, kill. And you were stuck alone in a cell with him.

“Не сопротивляйтесь,” one of the uniformed men told you, expression entirely unsympathetic. It was almost worse than the look of sadistic, scientific glee on the face of the white coat next to him. “Ты сделаешь только хуже.”

Don’t fight back. You’ll only make it worse.

Your eyes widened, and you barely had a chance to shake your head before the unfamiliar Alpha was on you, grabbing your ankle in a brutal grip and dragging you away from the corner you’d curled up in. You screamed in pain as you felt the bone snap like a twig under his large palm, instinctively hitting your hands against his broad chest as you tried to fight him off. If you had been in heat, you wouldn’t have cared, wouldn’t have even felt the pain from him breaking you, would have spread your legs and begged him to knot you. But you weren’t, and so your survival instincts overtook those of your omega. You knew you would be punished later for disobeying, but at the moment, you didn’t care. Anything was better than being knotted by the feral Alpha on top of you. He would maul you to death while he fucked you, you just knew it.

The Alpha grabbed your wrists in one hand, pinning them above your head. The other ripped your shirt off, causing your back to arch and your tits to spill out of your bra. He buried his face in your neck, inhaling deeply and letting out a satisfied growl. You tried to headbutt him, and he snarled in your face, wrapping a hand around your throat and squeezing tight enough to make your vision go black around the edges in less than ten seconds. By the time you caught your breath and were able to think again, his hands were busy yanking down your pants and underwear in one harsh tug. You let out a hoarse shriek of fear, flipping onto your belly to try and crawl away, ignoring the searing pain in your shattered ankle. But that was your fatal mistake. His beefy palm met the back of your neck, fingers digging in as he lifted you slightly by it, his other hand coming around to roughly grope your breasts.

And you stopped.

You stopped moving, stopped screaming, you nearly stopped breathing. You were limp as a ragdoll as he scruffed you, utterly and completely paralyzed. You could do nothing but take it as he shoved your face into the dirty concrete, pried your legs apart, and forced himself inside you. You could feel the agonizing pain as his cock practically tore you in half, could feel the ice cold fear freezing every cell of your body, could feel his blunt nails digging into the ultra-sensitive skin of your nape. You could feel everything. But you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

It seemed to go on forever, and yet take no time at all. One second, you were pliant and supine beneath the Alpha as he pounded into you, his weight constricting your lungs and making it difficult to breathe. The next, the restrictive grip on your neck was gone, replaced by a sharp pain at the junction of it and your shoulder as his teeth sunk into your flesh. Into your mating gland. Your own screams were echoing in the tiny cell, now, no longer confined to your head.

“M’sorry, M’sorry, M’sorry,” a rough, wet voice chanted in your ear. It was the Alpha, speaking to you in English. You could understand it, even if you couldn't speak it. He was still on top of you, still inside you, his knot stretching you far beyond your limits. And yet he was… apologizing? You stopped screaming in your confusion, the terrified screeching replaced by the sound of your heaving sobs.

“M’sorry, M’so sorry, they dosed me, M’sorry,” the Alpha continued, voice slurred. You struggled to focus on his words, distracted by the liquid you could feel dripping down your thighs. It was probably blood, you realized distantly. His knot wouldn’t have let any of his seed escape. That’s what it was there for.

That, and to keep you from running.

The Alpha’s voice grew more and more gravelly as his knot began to deflate, his apologies interrupted by grunts as he began to move his hips again, thrusting in and out of you shallowly. You whined, clawing at the floor, trying to wriggle free, but he just settled nearly his entire weight on top of you.

“Don’ fight,” he growled, and you could tell from the strain in his voice that he was at least trying to resist his instincts. It didn’t make you feel any better, especially not when his fingers inched closer and closer to your nape again. “Don’t, or m’gonna have to— fuck, I don’t— fuckin’ be a good omega an’ take it— m’sorry, fuck— don’t fuckin’ fight me—”

You were still sobbing, shrieking like a dying thing with every quick, brutal snap of his hips against yours. Too out of it from being scruffed, you missed the warning in his jumbled plea threat, continuing to struggle underneath him. You felt your ribs crack as he pressed the rest of his considerable weight onto you, and the strangled, stuttering gasp that left your throat was the kind of sound that belonged in a horror film.

The Alpha seemed to think so too, as he moaned in a horrid mixture of pleasure and abject misery before he scruffed you again. You went still, once more trapped in your own body. It was the worst sensation you’d ever felt, worse than the experiments the white coats ran on you, worse than your punishments, worse than your heats spent alone. Worse than the shattered ankle or broken ribs, worse even than the feeling of him ripping you apart from the inside. You were always helpless and vulnerable, being an omega, but this… when you were scruffed, you were no longer a person. You were just an object, to be used as your Alpha saw fit.

Your Alpha.

The man on top of you—who was knotting you for the second time now—was your Alpha. He’d claimed you, the pain in your shoulder was proof of that. You would wear his mark forever, now. You would belong to him for the rest of your life.

You prayed that it was short.

Your Alpha released his painful grip on your nape again, but you didn’t try to get away this time. You were far too disoriented. Being scruffed once was bad enough, but twice in as many minutes? You could easily go into shock from that. You probably were in shock, but you didn't panic, feeling too distant and floaty. The ice in your veins was numbing you from the inside. That was nice… you leaned into it, letting your blankly staring eyes flutter shut—

“Omega!”

Your eyes snapped back open and you whimpered, trying to curl in on yourself. That only caused pain to flare up all over your body, the burning between your legs as you tugged on his knot pulling another scream from you.

“Stay still,” the same harsh voice ordered, and your instincts forced you to obey. The command was a little more collected this time, a little more coherent, even if he was still groaning and slurring.

“Don' move,” your Alpha panted, each word sounding like it was dragged out of him. He started to fuck you once more. “Don’— don’ wanna scruff you ‘gain.”

You didn’t have it in you to be grateful. Didn’t have it in you to be sympathetic to his situation either, not while he was still rutting into you like an animal.

They dosed me, he’d said. You wished they’d dosed you. At least then you wouldn't feel the pain…

***

Simon had never hated being an Alpha more than in that moment.

Bollocks deep in a pretty little omega, one already stuffed full of his come and wearing his mark… he wished fervently that this was just another of his nightmares, the ones that stuck with him like a bad smell even after escaping Roba.

Between the disorientation from his forced rut and the nasty head injury, he almost let himself believe that it was. If it was a dream, he could give in, and he wouldn’t actually be hurting anyone. He could just ride it out, come in trousers wherever he was sleeping, and hopefully, it would end faster.

But her screams were far too real.

She wailed like she was being flayed alive as she struggled underneath him, and his Alpha—after being denied a partner for his ruts for over a decade—was brutal and swift in its response. Scruffing her like a scrappy mutt, growling in pleasure at the way she submitted to him—the way she was forced to submit to him.

It was nearly impossible to think around how fucked his head was—by instinct and injury both—but after he'd knotted her for the second time, he was able to act a little more like the trained soldier he was, and not like a panicked civvie.

He didn’t argue with himself any longer. He accepted the reality of the situation as it was. He was in rut. He was trapped with an omega. He had brutalized and claimed her. If he kept focusing on trying to stop himself altogether, he was going to kill her. He needed to give up on that and instead just try to minimize the damage.

Starting with stopping her from going into shock, and then stopping her from fighting back. It only made his Alpha all the more eager to dominate her—by any means necessary.

It sickened Simon that that part of him existed. Deep down, he feared that it always had. That Roba hadn’t created it, back in the desert. That he’d just unearthed it. All of Simon’s evilness, all his wicked desires…

It was why he’d never taken an omega before. Never even let himself date one, back when that was something he did.

Johnny was perfect, in that way. In many ways, really, but him being a beta—it soothed Simon’s fears. The fears that were being proved true.

He didn’t know how long passed before the rut inducers wore off. It had to have been hours. The omega—his omega—was still facedown on the ground when he pulled out of her for the last time. She was bleeding from where he’d bitten her, and where he’d bred her, his cock drenched in her blood, her own thighs stained with a mix of it and his come.

Simon threw up at the sight. He told himself it was just from the head injury.

He was naked, except for his mask, which was pushed up past his nose. He didn't remember taking off his trousers, though he recalled that his shirt had been cut to shreds the first day of his captivity by his torturer. He didn’t remember a lot of his mini-rut, as was common when it was induced. But the evidence of what he’d done was right in front of him. The omega—not mine, not my omega, not mine—was clad in nothing but the scraps of her clothes. Her side, hips, wrists, and the back of her neck were bruised. Her ankle was bent at a funny angle. A small patch of hair near her nape was missing, leaving her scalp red and raw. Simon looked at his hands, and found the strands woven between his fingers.

She didn’t move.

Simon pulled his mask into position and Ghost took over. He moved towards the girl, feeling for a pulse. She flinched violently when he touched her neck, and he felt relief—and guilt—reverberate through him. Ghost was good at ignoring his feelings, though.

“S’over,” he told her, voice gruff. “S’done now. Promise.”

The omega didn’t acknowledge his words, just kept her shoulders tucked up by her ears, guarding her neck. Ghost didn't protest, simply felt along her spine for any breaks. He didn’t find any, so he carefully rolled her over.

Her breasts were red and raw, nipples bleeding from being scraped back and forth across the floor. There was a hand shaped bruise around her throat, and petechiae in the whites of her glassy eyes. Ghost ignored his horror at the sight, and began to palpate her ribs. She inhaled sharply when he touched the eighth and ninth ones, a pitiful, pained whine escaping her.

The ribs were probably fractured, if not broken. The bruising above them was clue enough. There was another massive bruise low on her belly, and Ghost swore. Internal bleeding. He may have actually fucked this poor omega to death. There was no way she survived the night if she wasn't treated soon.

He got his pants and trousers on, hoping it would help her believe the worst was over, and then got to work doing what he could—wrapping her ribs with the dirty blanket in the corner, and holding the scraps of her shirt between her legs to try and stem the bleeding there. It wasn't enough. It wasn’t nearly enough. He didn’t even know if it was really worth the discomfort it caused her—but he couldn't bring himself to just let her die. She was his omega.

Not mine, not mine, not mine.

He talked to her as she faded. Tried to keep her awake with the sound of his voice, though he knew it was probably the last thing she wanted to hear. He told her stories from his childhood—the few good ones there were—told her the plot of the last film he and Johnny had watched, told her about Johnny. That was the topic he lingered on the longest. It was far easier to talk about his beta than himself. And by the time her eyes slipped closed and her shallow breathing stopped, it was Simon that was holding her, not Ghost, despite the mask on his face.

It was Simon that watched her die.

It was Simon that realized he didn't even know her name.

And it was Simon that howled with grief and rage, clutching the broken body of the omega—my omega, my omega, mine—against his chest.

Footsteps rapidly approached the cell, and Simon snarled like a rabid animal as he turned towards the bars. He barely had a second to pull his omega—dead, dead, dead, she was mine and I killed her, she was innocent and I killed her—behind him before a familiar voice rang out. The only voice that could have possibly reached him in this state, that could stop him from giving into his instincts completely and going feral.

“Simon?”

“Johnny,” Simon growled, sounding desperate and broken. He felt broken. This little omega had managed to do what Roba and a hundred others had failed at. And she hadn't even tried.

“Let us help her, Si,” Johnny coaxed, moving closer while Price and Gaz hung back. Wise, because Simon could barely keep himself from baring his teeth at his own beta. Johnny didn't back down. “Si. Let us help her.”

Simon hesitated for a long moment, fighting his overwhelming instincts, before moving away. Johnny rushed in, immediately checking the omega’s pulse and starting compressions when he couldn’t find it. Simon tried to struggle to his feet, but he nearly fell over, Gaz and Price catching him. He snarled, weakly pulling away from them, but they held fast.

“We got you, soldier,” Price’s deep voice rumbled in his ear. “Stand down.”

Simon slumped, unable to hold himself up anymore, all his injuries catching up to him.

“I killed her,” he whispered raggedly, eyelids falling shut. He felt Gaz shake him to try and keep him awake, but he simply didn't have the willpower, anymore. “She was mine and I killed her.”

The mantra rang in his head even as he lost consciousness, and her screams of pain and the look of fear on her face as she lay dying followed him into his dreams.

-

less angsty ending

[leclerc-hs]

it's cool, we're just friends? - cl16

pairing: college!charles leclerc x fem!reader (friends with benefits!) summary: in which you and a guy in your class are friends with benefits OR you and your friends with benefits might be more? warnings: smut under the cut! thigh-riding, throat-fucking, p in v sex!, no condoms (bad!), badly translated french (pls correct me), angst, pining, NOT PROOFREAD!!!! word count: 4.8k! author's note: so i ALMOST scrapped this entire thing because i wasn't sure how i felt about it so if it sucks, i understand LOL. i had a lot of fun writing this and can see myself writing a lot of scenarios for them like before there was this many feelings involved? like maybe a spring break one shot for them, when they hooked up for first time ;) PLEASE let me hear your thoughts and any comments you have. I love hearing from you guys xoxo

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE WEIGHT OF his eyes bore into the back of your skull, a palpable presence as you immerse yourself in the lecture before you. It’s almost become a ritual at this point: a magnetic pull compels you to glance his way, and there he is, a smirk stretching wide across his face, as if he holds the upper hand.

In that fleeting moment where your eyes meet his verdant gaze, a fierce intensity ignites within you. It’s as if a wildfire unleashes, consuming you with an unbridled mix of desire and exasperation. Your stomach tightens with a fervent ache, betraying the absolute irritation you feel at his ability to rile you up with one look.

Internally, Charles wrestles with the urge to gaze at you as though you’ve strung the stars and moon just for him. Yet, outwardly, he remains steadfast, unwilling to reveal his vulnerability when it comes to you. Instead, he masks his emotions behind a practiced smirk—a façade. And the blushing reaction you give him almost every time, only enthuses him more.

“Arrête!” You half-shout, though it emerges more as a whispered urgency amidst the large lecture hall.

Charles leans in over his desk, his lips hovering dangerously close to the shell of your ear, a proximity that sets your heart racing with a rapid intensity.

“Est-ce que je te verra ice soir?” Will I see you tonight?

You kept your head straight ahead, refusing to acknowledge the warmth of him being so close, resisting the allure of his voice. 

“Peut-être.” Maybe.

At the front of the lecture hall, Professor Bernard stands tall, his expression grave as he prepares his common ‘you guys are smarter than this’ speech about the recent exam grades. He highlights the alarming fact that more than half of the class received a 70% or lower. And true to his reputation as the kindest professor, he extends an olive branch by offering retakes to those who seek improvement before dismissing the lecture.

You gather your belongings, ready to make your exit, when suddenly, a heavy arm wraps around your shoulder just as you cross the threshold of the door.

You? Aced it. Charles? Not so aced it.

Which you knew meant you were helping him study as usual.

-

You watch as Charles runs his fingers through his disheveled locks, each movement betraying a hint of frustration and determination. His lips form a subtle pout as he fixates on the study material you laid out before him, his furrowed brows highlighting the depth of his concentration.

“Mon chou, je ne pensais pas que tu m’avais invite pour ça.” I didn’t think you invited me over for this.

With a gleam in his eyes, he wiggles his eyebrows playfully as he collapses on the many pillows of your bed behind him. The papers scattered across the bed threaten to take flight, but your swift reflexes saved them from soaring away into chaos.

You narrow your eyes in mock annoyance, but the small smile tugging at the corners of your lips betrays your amusement at the situation.

“Tu dois étudier.” You need to study.

Charles stares at the corners of your lips, his eyes not straying once from them even as you spoke. 

“Embrasse-moi d’abord.” Kiss me first. He nearly begs; his face almost completely covered by the hood of his sweatshirt as he laid on his back beside your cross-legged figure.

“Étudie.” Study. Your words were firm, yet you could feel your resolve slipping under the intensity of his gaze, as it traces a path from your lips to your eyes, igniting a warmth that stirred whenever he was near.

His arm reaches up behind your neck in a swift motion, too quick for you to even see it coming. His fingers grabbing the nape of your neck in a tight grip as he brings your face down to his, your body toppling over his in an unnatural position from his force. His lips collide with yours instantly, and the squeal you elicit gives him easy access to slip his tongue into your mouth. 

He groans softly against your mouth, something about how sweet your mouth tastes. The moan that escapes your lips and melded into his mouth drove him absolutely crazy. The grip on the back of your neck didn’t loosen as he held you to him, giving you no opportunity to pull away from him.

Your tank top cladded chest was pressed against the side of his body, embracing you in his warmth. You press a hand to his chest, attempting to push yourself up, but he groans against your lips in detest before loosening his grip on your neck. 

“Est-ce vraiment necessaire.” Do we have to? He begins to pepper kisses all around your face, his fingers dipping under the straps of your tank top, tracing intricate patterns of the soft skin beneath.

You slip your hand under the warmth of his hoodie, his toned muscles flexing under your cold fingertips as you trail your hand up his chest and slip one leg over him, straddling his thigh. His skin was so warm. Almost like a furnace.

He sucks in a breath, as if your touch hurt him, but really, he craved it. He wanted you everywhere. The tight leggings that adorned your body did little to prevent Charles from feeling the heat and arousal of your pussy against his thigh. A smirk widened on his lips almost instantly. He knew he had you right where he wanted you.

He could sense your contemplative thoughts by one glance at your eyes. As if you knew he needed to study, but you needed this more.

 You could barely concentrate the minute Charles sprawled onto your bed earlier, his legs spread and shorts riding up to expose the muscles of his thighs. It was even harder to think with the way his soft green eyes look up at you, and the way his fingers felt on you.

His hand trails from beneath the strap of your tank top, your hardened nipples more than visible through the thin fabric of it, to the front of your breasts.

“No bra?” His thumb rolled a nipple between his thumb and forefinger above the fabric of your shirt. “Planning on getting fucked, hm?” 

Your hips rut against his thigh almost instantly in response to his words. The feeling of his thigh against your clit, causing a soft moan to slip. It was then, that Charles seemed to lose all restraint as his hand grasped the side of your neck and squeezed lightly, his thumb resting in the center of your neck. He flexed his thigh, his eyes gleaming at the sight of your blown out pupils.

“Regarde-toi,” Look at you. He edged you on. “Just wanna ride m’thigh, yeah?” 

Your hips move in their own rhythm, unable to stop. It just feels too good. You nodded repeatedly as you lean over, pressing your chest to his, as he claims your lips once again. His hot, tongue sliding against yours as the stubble of his facial hair scratches your chin.

You struggle, losing the rhythm of your hips until Charles slid his hands down to your waist, guiding your movements. “C’mon mon chou, tu dois travailler pour ça.” You have to work for it.

“We should study.” You mention, the pace of your hips not stopping. As if your body has a mind of its own.

“Nous sommes.” We are. He argues, his fingertips squeezing into the skin of your hips even more. “Now, keep rubbing that pretty little pussy on me.”

-

“Oh, what about her?” You point to the pretty brunette that was currently leaned against the wall, a red solo cup in her manicured hand, as she was deep in conversation with a few other girls that you haven’t seen before.

Charles sighs heavily, rolling his eyes just slightly. “Why are you pawning me off?” He cracks a smile, his elbows gently hitting your side.

You let out a small laugh before bringing your own cup to your lips. The liquid of your drink resting on the top of your lip as you finished a sip and turned to look at Charles. “M’not!” You shrug your shoulders. “Elle est jolie and keeps looking at you thinkin’ no one’s noticed.” She’s pretty.

He wouldn’t know about the ‘pretty brunette’ you claimed was there. He didn’t know about any other girl that was here. His eyes haven’t left your figure the entire night. Since you stepped in the entrance of the house he was by your side, it was like his body knew you arrived.

“Peu importe ça, m’gonna go dance.” Whatever. You stick your tongue out at him, earning a deep laugh, and saunter off to find one of your friends already on the makeshift dance floor in the living room of the house. 

Charles leans casually against the wall, his eyes tracing the contours of your radiant smile from afar. Despite himself, a soft grin tugs at the corners of his lips as he takes in the sight of you.

“Are you sure you’re not together?” One of his friends, Alex, teases, leaning in close to Charles and handing him a red solo cup, its contents mostly frothy beer foam from an evidently lazy pour. “I was thinking of asking her out.”

Charles’s gaze drift from the frothy mess in his cup to Alex’s expectant face, a furrow forming on his brow. It wasn’t the foam that troubled him, rather, it was Alex’s words that unsettled him. How was he supposed to respond? We aren’t together but I think I’m in love with her?

Charles clenches his jaw, fighting back the urge to speak his truth, as the words “have at it” slip past his lips with a forced nonchalance. With a hollow smile, he raises the cup to his lips, swallowing the acrid liquid with a newfound eagerness that masked the bitter taste of envy and longing festering in his chest. As Alex made his way towards you, Charles couldn’t help but feel a pang of anguish, knowing that he was relinquishing his chance to confess his feelings, drowning them instead in the depths of a cheap beer.

-

“Mmm, tu es tellement douée.” You’re so good.

You weren’t quite sure how you ended up in this scenario. All you remember is being dragged away from a game of beer-pong with Alex, his fingers gripping your wrist so tightly it could’ve left marks, and shoving you onto your knees as soon as he shut the bathroom door. 

Dwelling on the how’s and why’s seemed inconsequential now. Especially with his cock buried deep down your throat like it is right now, and especially with the praises that slip past his lips.

Charles lulls his head back with a loud groan as he flexes his hips into your mouth, giving you little to no opportunity to breathe. No opportunity to speak. But you didn’t care. You would do anything to please him.

“Tellement putain de jolie, mon dieu.” So fucking pretty, my God.

“Bet you’re soaked under that dress, hm?” His grip on your hair tightens. “Got you all wet without even touching you.” His laugh is deep and mocking. You feel your thighs clench, like it was an automatic response. “Only I get you like this, yeah?”

You press your face forward, not even needing his force as you take full enjoyment in the feeling of him in your mouth.

“So eager, mon chou.”

You moan at the feeling of his smooth cock against the walls of your throat. The vibrations of your moan, immediately sending him over the edge. His white, hot cum spills down your throat, filling you up, before he pulls out. A long string of saliva follows, your eyes completely teary. 

He lifts you from your knees, the cool tile of the bathroom floor no longer your support, his thumb gently resting on your chin as he studies you for a mere second. Taking in the streaky tears under your eyes and your swollen lips. He could already feel the blood rushing back to his cock.

“Bet you’re leaking all over yourself, yeah?” You catch the smirk that pulls onto his lips before his lips crash down onto yours. His teeth nibbling on your bottom lip for a brief second before he’s pulling away, pushing you up onto the bathroom sink counter as he stands in between your spread legs. “All achy?” He cocked his head to the side a little, like he knew something you didn’t.

It was so fast, you weren’t even able to ask questions before he leaned forward, his fingers slipping into the lace of your underwear, pushing them aside, and pressing his hot tongue to your soaked core.

You swore you’ve never moaned so loud in your life as you just did in this moment.  At the feeling of the kitten licks on your clit, at the feeling of him shoving two fingers into you, finding that spot he knew you loved most almost instantly.

Your fingers franticly reached into his tousled locks, pulling his hair probably harder than necessary, but he didn’t mind. In fact, he moaned right into your pussy. Like he couldn’t ever get enough of you. Like he would stay licking you for forever if he could.

“Mon dieu,” My god. You squeal as your head lulls back against the cool mirror behind you and bite your lip trying to conceal the moans.

You look down at Charles, his eyes already staring at you, his green eyes completely darkened now. It makes your stomach do a multitude of flips. Your attempt to squeeze your legs shut from the pressure building in your stomach, but Charles grips his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh, holding them open.

A series of knocks are heard on the bathroom door which sends you into a total panic to which Charles yells “Va te faire foutre!” Fuck off!

 Your body squirms against Charles’ mouth and the granite of the countertop, but he holds you in place as if to say you’re not going anywhere until you soak my mouth.

He ate you out like a possessed man. Your chest is flushed red as the speed of his tongue picks up, sending you into overdrive. It wasn’t until he sucks harshly on your clit, the pressure of it, has you leaping over the edge into your orgasm. You came hard enough that your body arched, your fingers clenching his hair, pulling hard.

Charles doesn’t come up right away, he licks and licks until you’re pushing him off you. Both of your chests rose and fell in rhythm with each heavy breath, the lingering echoes of the lively party beyond the door gradually seeping back into your consciousness. It felt as though you had just descended from a faraway realm, returning to the bustling reality surrounding you.

His lips glistened, coated in you, as he stares at you completely fucked out on the bathroom counter. An unmistakable smugness in his expression.

His heart clenches as he drinks in the sight of you, so many emotions swirling in his chest. As you stretch your lips into that smile he loves so much, he feels a swell of warmth flood his senses, a tender ache stirring in the depths of his soul.

“Qu’est-ce qui te prend?” What’s gotten into you?

Not that you were complaining at what just happened. If anything, you wouldn’t mind if he wanted a repeat right now.

He nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, one hand leisurely slipping into his pocket, while the other moved to grasp the door handle. With a patient stance, he awaited your readiness before even considering opening the door. “J’avais juste besoin de toi,” Just needed you. He whispers, his voice carrying a tender resonance, emphasizing the depth of longing.

And then he’s swinging the door open, guiding you both back to the party.

-

“Je pense que nous devrions arrêter.” I think we should stop.

The words felt heavy in your throat as you said them, your hand clasped in Charles’ hand as you sat across from one another in the campus coffee shop.

Charles chuckled softly, taking a leisurely sip of his drink, but when be caught the seriousness in your expression, his laughter faded. His eyebrows knitted together, a pang of pain igniting in his chest and spreading like wildfire.

You watched as he leaned his head back against the booth, his gaze fixed on the ceiling as if unable to meet your eyes.

“Que veux-tu dire?” What do you mean? He met your eyes again, and you noticed a subtle shift in their hue—they were slightly darker than their usual shade of green.

“Je ne pense pas que ç ava marcher.” I don’t think this is going to work out. As you uttered the words, a queasy sensation churned in your stomach, making you feel like you were going to be sick. Similarly, Charles felt a wave of nausea wash over him upon hearing your words, his own stomach in knots.

Just looking at him had your eyes burning, but you refused to let the tears fall. Despite the overwhelming love you felt for this man, you couldn’t ignore the reality that it was unlikely to progress beyond the messy situation you found yourselves in. What were you supposed to do? Be friends that fuck for the rest of your lives?

You couldn’t do that. You wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision. No, you’ve been thinking about this for so long, but cutting it off was just too hard. Cutting him off was too hard.

As you watched him slowly retract his fingers from yours, his hand moving to pinch the bridge of his nose while he blinked, a fiery ache within your chest grew.

“We’re friends, always, right?” You asked, offering him a soft smile, though inside, your heart felt like it was about to burst from your chest. You reminded yourself that this was necessary. You needed to go on dates. Not that he was exactly holding you back. It just felt wrong to go on dates while sleeping with another.

“Right,” he responded, his expression devoid of a smile. “Friends.” He nodded slowly, as if carefully considering the weight of the situation before him.

“Est-ce que je peux demander ce qui a déclencé cela?” Can I ask what brought this up? His fingers tapped restlessly along the edge of the table, betraying his impatience as he awaited your answer.

Meanwhile, you sat twiddling your thumbs in your lap, occasionally stealing glances at them. Why did this conversation feel so unbearably difficult?

“Quoi?” What?

“Est-ce que j’ai fait quelque chose?” Did I do something?

You shook your head instantly, a small blush forming on your cheeks. “I just,” You began, but felt flustered as you took a pause to look back down at your fingers and then him again. His eyes made you feel hot all over, the way they never strayed from your face whenever you spoke to him, the way they dropped to your lips every so often as if he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing you. He couldn’t.

“I just think I need to go on dates.” You nervously smiled.

“You think?” He scoffed, throwing one arm over the top of the booth, and resting it there as he fell into a relaxed position. His eye twitched slightly, as he flexed his hand and clenched it like he was holding himself back.

You’re not sure how to respond. You had anticipated this conversation to be brief, perhaps along the lines of “I think we should end this,” followed by his immediate agreement. But apparently, that wasn’t the case. You could feel yourself growing flustered the longer you sat here. Why couldn’t he just simply agree, no questions asked.

You nodded, with slight hesitance. Did you really want to end it with him? No.

He shrugged his shoulders, pulling a little smirk on his face as he usually did. “Très bien.” Fine.

And that was that.

-

Charles decided that he had it up to here when you strolled into the house party, lips shiny with gloss, and you hand held in none other than Alex’s. It was as if you were trying to torture him. Like you knew that he loved you and you just wanted to hurt him a little more.

He’s watching, you can feel his eyes burn into you as you turn your head, pretending to listen to Alex as he rambles on about some story. You don’t let yourself glance over to Charles until later in the night, when he’s leaned up against the kitchen counter, a half-empty beer bottle gripped in his hand, eyes already on you.

You felt your stomach do a multitude of flips from the eye-contact, that you even almost pulled your hand from Alex’s. Like you were caught doing something wrong.

You quickly realized that you had little to no self-control, especially when it came to Charles. With his hair pushed back and the linen shirt half-unbuttoned, allowing the toned and taut muscles of his stomach to peek through, it almost seemed as though he wanted to make it even harder for you to resist. Like he wanted to punish you for not choosing him.

He had you right where he wanted you, sort of.

“Shh,” Charles nips at your earlobe, eliciting a mewl from you as he presses you against the mattress of his bed. “You want everyone to hear what a whore you are, hm?”

Another string of moans leaves your lips as he thrusts into you, the pads of his fingers gripping the front of your neck tightly. His eyes fixed on yours, the pace of his hips was slow, but so deep. 

“Tell me,” Charles began, his tongue trailing along your collarbones and up your neck until his mouth hovered over yours. “Still wanna play stupid games with me, jolie fille?” Pretty girl.

You whined as his hips picked up in pace. “Ouvrir.” Open. You did so without a second thought, only to be met with a string of saliva meeting your tongue. Charles groaned as you swallowed his spit, eagerly.

“Still wanna pretend we’re just friends?” He could feel your walls trembling as her hand snaked its way to the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to meet hers. It was a tangle of tongues and moans.

“Does he fuck you as good as me?” You couldn’t handle the way he was talking to you, staring at you, touching you. “Gripping me like you’re gonna come.”

You shook your head repeatedly. 

“That’s it,” His voice was gentle in your ear. “So good, mon chou.” 

Your breaths were jagged and heavy as he took you harder and harder. “Rub your pretty little clit for me, yeah?” 

Your body was shaking as you trailed your fingers down, fingers playing with your clit. Charles rested on his knees, his eyes staring at his cock being swallowed by your pussy, and the way your fingers toyed with your sensitive clit. He groaned at the sight of his cock coated in you. 

It wasn’t long before you careening forward with a cry, your body arching off the bed, as you came around his cock. Charles fell forward over you, an arm on each side of your head, as he cocooned you. His hips didn’t let up as you sobbed out, your toes curling.

Charles could feel his resolve slipping at the feeling of your soaked walls clenching him. He threw his head into the crevice of your neck, the rhythm of his hips faltering as you wrapped your legs around his waist, allowing him to thrust even deeper than before. He rolled his hips, pumping into you with such a fervent rush. 

“Mon dieu,” His groans were soft in your ear. “You feel so good.”

It wasn’t until you moaned in his ear, begging for him to come in you, that he lost all control. A deep moan, pressing his hips down against yours as he held you down, pumping his cum deep into you.

For a few moments, it was silent. Just the sound of your heavy breaths as Charles collapsed to the side of you. You both felt oddly at peace, even with the thumping of the house party music heard from the other side of his bedroom door.

Charles stood up, grabbing a towel from his bathroom, before bringing it to you to help clean you up. Something primal filled his chest as he stared at you sprawled on his bed, his cum dripping out of you. 

It was the last swipe of the towel when he finally spoke.

“We’re not friends.” He stated. He was sick of teetering around the topic. He was sick of seeing you with other guys at his house.

You opened your mouth to retort, but he held his hand up, essentially silencing you. 

“Stop pretending you want any other guy’s cock.” He stood before you as you sat up on the edge of the bed still naked, hands clenched at his sides in a fist. You began to stand up, your face turning red with anger, not because of his words but because he was right.

You grabbed your dress that was in a pile on the floor, slipping it on in a hurry. “Je dois partir.” I need to go. You began, “Alex me cherche probablement.” Alex is probably looking for me.

It was then that Charles raised his voice, if it weren’t for the loud music, you could’ve sworn the entire house would’ve heard.

“J’en ai tellement marre de ça!” I’m so sick of this! He runs his fingers through his hair, pacing the room back and forth. You felt your words caught in your throat as you stood still, your eyes following his every movement until he stood before you, his hands gripping your waist.. “Je t’aime!” I love you! He laughs after he says it, like he’s so pathetically in love with you and you have no care in the world for it.

“I cannot handle seeing you with another man.” He rambles off. “I cannot handle seeing you showing up here, to my home, holding another man’s hand.” He seethes, bringing his thumb and pointer finger to pinch the bridge of his nose as he breathes in, attempting to calm himself down.

“I know you love me.” His fingers grab your hand, pulling it up to his chest and holding it where his heart beats. Tears welled up in your eyes as you gazed at him, his eyes reflecting a wild intensity, his hair disheveled hair adding to his untamed allure. Sensing your vulnerability, he gently cupped your face with his other hand, offering you a tender touch. You leaned into his comforting embrace, as if seeking solace in his presence. With a silent nod, you pressed your head against his hand, a single tear escaping down your cheek, bearing witness to the depth of your emotions.

“I’m so sick of seeing people with what is mine.” He urged. “You can’t be someone else’s, not when you are already mine.”

“Charlie,” You drew in a deep breath, locking eyes with him, drowning in the depths of his green gaze. Every fiber of your being resonated with love for this man, an unshakeable devotion that consumed your soul.

“S’il te plait.” Please. His voice was a whispered hush as he begged. “Put me out of my misery.” 

He opened his mouth to continue, but you didn’t let him. You stood on the tips of your toes, leaning forward to press your chest against his as you pressed your lips to him. His arms immediately wrapping around your waist as you slipped your tongue into his mouth. He groaned at the taste of you in his mouth again, his cock already hardening for you.

You pulled off him, “Really?” He let a small laugh escape his lips as he pulled your mouth back onto his for a small peck.

“I’m a man in love.” He grins, like he has nothing to be ashamed about.

“Je t’aime.” I love you.

Charles tenderly pressed his lips to the side of your neck, his tongue tracing delicate patterns along the velvety skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Répète-le.” Say it again. He whispers, his voice husky with desire. As his lips continue down their intoxicating dance on your neck, his fingers trail the straps of your dress, gradually easing them down your shoulders with a tantalizing touch.

“Je t’aime.” I love you. He placed a small nip to your neck, eliciting a small squeal, as he lifted you up and carried you back to his bed.

“M’so in love with you,” He presses a kiss to your lips. “Don’t think I’ll ever stop.”

[lov3lycosmos]

₊˚⑅⋆ 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐈𝐬 𝐌𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲 ⋆⑅˚₊

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Pairings: Hyunjin x Fem Reader

Warnings: bullying, attempted drugging, some cursing...that's it?

v4mps note: THIS WAS ACTUALLY SO FUN TO WRITE HEHE I HOPE ITS GOOD-

request from @sooniedoongiedori25

You weren’t sure what made you so nervous about the night, but it had been eating at you since the moment you agreed to hang out with your so-called friends. They weren’t bad people, no. But their energy? It never felt genuine. You had never quite fit in with them, even though you always tried. There was just something off about the way they treated you—like you were never quite enough. It was subtle at first, but now it was starting to sting.

Hyunjin had noticed it too, though he didn’t say much. He sat next to you on the couch, his warm body a comforting presence against yours. You leaned into him, his arm instinctively wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his side. You could feel his eyes scanning the room as you talked to your friends, but he didn’t interrupt. He didn’t need to. His presence was enough, and you appreciated that.

It didn’t take long before the familiar, uncomfortable feeling crept back into your chest. Your friends weren’t being outright rude, but their passive-aggressive comments were starting to build. They would throw out little digs at your appearance, your personality, and even your anxiety. It was like a game to them, one you didn’t want to play, but had no choice but to endure.

You felt your stomach churn after taking a sip of a drink that one of the girls had made for you. It was a simple gesture, but as soon as the liquid hit your throat, something felt off. You didn’t want to make a scene, but the sick feeling in your stomach was impossible to ignore. You tried to hold it in, but you couldn’t help the way your body reacted. Your breathing grew shallow, and you instinctively leaned back into Hyunjin’s chest, seeking comfort in his presence.

He noticed instantly, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your stomach as your body trembled. “Are you okay?” he whispered softly, concern evident in his voice. His fingers brushed your hair away from your face, his warmth surrounding you.

You nodded weakly, giving him a small smile to reassure him, but it was hard to hide the discomfort you were feeling. The girls, oblivious to your situation, continued their conversation, but you could feel their eyes on you. They were whispering, their giggles a sharp contrast to the calm, steady presence Hyunjin provided.

Then one of them, the girl who had made your drink, let out a quiet snicker. “Maybe if she wasn’t so… fragile, she could actually handle a drink without falling apart.”

The words stung, and despite yourself, you flinched. You tried to play it cool, focusing on Hyunjin’s hand still rubbing circles on your stomach, trying to calm yourself down. But the whispering continued, each word hitting harder than the last.

“Did you hear how fast she got anxious? She’s such a mess,” another one chimed in, giggling as if it were funny.

Hyunjin’s jaw tightened, his entire posture going rigid. You could feel the shift in him. The playful, laid-back energy he normally had was gone, replaced by a quiet but burning fury that simmered beneath the surface. His hand no longer rubbed your stomach; instead, it gripped yours gently but firmly, like a silent promise. You could see the muscles in his jaw clenching, his lips pressed into a thin line as he glanced down at you.

You felt your chest tighten as you struggled to breathe through the anxiety. You didn’t want to cry, not in front of them, but the comments hurt. You squeezed his hand, trying to distract yourself from the way your stomach twisted and turned.

And then, before you could stop him, Hyunjin stood up, his presence suddenly towering over the group. His eyes locked onto the girls, and you could see the intensity in his gaze. His voice was calm, but there was a dangerous edge to it that sent a chill down your spine.

“What the fuck did you just say?” he asked, his tone low, dangerous.

The girls froze, their teasing smiles faltering at the sudden shift in the room. They exchanged nervous glances, clearly taken aback by his sudden anger.

Hyunjin didn’t give them a chance to respond. He grabbed your drink from the table, inspecting it closely. His gaze darkened when he saw the ice floating at the top, realizing that it wasn’t melting the way it should. A sinking feeling hit the pit of your stomach.

“You…” He glared at the girl who had made your drink, his voice sharp as he walked toward her. “You tried to drug my girlfriend, didn’t you?”

The girl’s eyes widened in shock, but Hyunjin wasn’t done. His voice grew colder, more authoritative.

“Don’t even try to deny it. I’m not stupid. This is my baby, and what you are NOT going to do is treat her like this.” His voice thundered through the room, sending the girls into silence.

You felt your heart race, a mix of emotions flooding your chest. The anger radiating from Hyunjin made you feel safe but also terrified. You knew how much he cared for you, but seeing him so intense made you realize just how far he was willing to go to protect you.

“You don’t think it’s a little rude to say shit like that about your friend? Is that the kind of ‘friendship’ you want?” Hyunjin continued, his eyes burning with a fury that you’d never seen before.

He stepped forward, positioning himself between you and the girls, his hands protectively gripping your waist as he moved you behind him. You didn’t say anything, too stunned to speak. You just held onto his hand, your fingers playing with his, grounding yourself in his strength.

The girls, now visibly uncomfortable, glanced at each other, but no one dared to speak. They knew Hyunjin meant every word he said, and they were finally starting to realize just how badly they had crossed a line.

After a long, tense silence, one of them stood up, nervously apologizing. “I didn’t mean—”

“You didn’t mean it?” Hyunjin interrupted, his voice cutting through the air. “Then maybe you should think about the things you say before you open your fucking mouth next time.”

He turned to you, his face softening, and his eyes filled with nothing but tenderness. “You okay, baby?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

You nodded, your chest still tight with emotion. You weren’t okay—not yet—but with Hyunjin standing here, defending you, you felt like you might be. You felt like, with him, you would always be okay.

Hyunjin gently pulled you in closer, his arms enveloping you as he kissed the top of your head. “You’re mine, and no one is going to hurt you ever again.”

And in that moment, you believed him. For the first time in a long while, you felt safe. With Hyunjin by your side, nothing—no one—could touch you.

[yumeboshi]

congrats on 100 omg !!!! may i please order a sickly sweet sprinkle sundae? <3 your vibe is simply incredible

❝ THANK YOU FOR YOUR ORDER、 @bunn3333s .ᐟ ⟡ HERE IS YOUR RECEIPT FROM CAFÉ YUME ⟡

𐙚SICKLY SWEET SPRINKLE SUNDAE：sickly sweet it makes you throw up!

𐙚 dish desc。．a not so romantic dinner sunday made for you after you tried running away.

．。𝜗𝜚 labels。 general yandere themes, manipulation, filthy, mentions of aphrodisiacs, no i promise i write for other characters too, heavy brainrot, MINORS DNI

．。𝜗𝜚 ingredients。sunday

WAS HE ANGRY?

it was hard to tell by the way SUNDAY smiles at you with eyes hollow like shells, gesturing for you to take a seat at the lavish dinner table. your fiancé, although more of a forced engagement, was undoubtedly a good cook. the dishes set across the spacious wooden table cloaked with heavenly silk were straight from a 5-star course meal at the Reverie, each one tingling your nostrils with an exquisitely savory smell.

the situation might have been very flattering if you haven’t tried to run away from him moments ago.

“please, take a seat. i made it just for you, you know.” he laughs shortly at your hesitance, but his eyes pierce through you, like a predator waiting for its prey.

you feel your heart thud against your chest as you sit down tentatively- the scrape of the chair only scratching your nerves even more. although the scent around you tempted your stomach, your mouth felt paradoxically dry and you felt like throwing up. you felt uncomfortable, as if a thousand ants were crawling over your skin by his stare that never once leaves you.

“you deserve to eat,” he breaks your discomfort with a gentle hand that guides your own to the silver utensils that are far too expensive for you. “you’ve been such a good girl.”

the way he says it tells you he doesn’t think that at all. but how can you possibly deny him, when you’ve already done it once? you should be grateful he’s even allowing you to eat.

but as the steak reaches your lips, you feel a sudden churn in your throat that tells you you really shouldn’t eat it. sunday taps you with the other hand on your shoulder- a subtle warning, but when you don’t do as he says, he sighs in condescension and pries your mouth open to force it in, caring little about the way your saliva stains his pristine gloves.

the meat surprisingly melts on your tongue like heaven- it’s juicy and just so right. it’s the most perfect bite of meat you’ve ever tasted, which shows on your surprised expression which makes your fiancé scold you—

“what did i tell you, dear? I didn’t put anything in there. this indeed says something about how little you trust me.”

and when he removes his and from yours, telling you that he’s not going to cook anymore- you beg him that you’re sorry for mistrusting him. oh, what a sin you’ve committed— how dare you even doubt sunday, who always showers you with such love you don’t deserve after your attempt to run?

he pretends to give in to your pretty pleas when you hug him while sobbing about how delicious it is, all the while telling you that you’re such a stupid little dove he has to teach constantly until she learns he manners.

little do you know, the meat you’re chewing has an oddly sweet aftertaste. the more sunday feeds you with his hand over your own, subtly coaxing you to eat the entire thing, all the while making you think it’s your own choice to eat it, the more your brain fuzzes, your vision blurry, slowly drowning your own coherent thoughts with such a primal need that builds itself to the surface, a desire that morphs into a cacophony in your head that chants that you need him so badly.

and he’ll drag out the drugged thoughts of yours, acting as if you’re the one who badly wants him to bury in his thick cock inside you- when in reality, sunday is the one who desires it so bad. he’s wanted to stuff you full with his own cum- make you his, trapping you with his children since the day he’s laid eyes on you, but a true manipulator always plays the longer game, and he was willing to wait.

now, his long-awaited fantasies are fulfilled as he watches your hole gushing around his cock, whimpering his name as you clutch the sheets- pretty bite marks decorating every nook and cranny. and fuck, oh it makes him feel like he’s finally flown to his desired heaven. he feels complete.

he feels like his twisted paradise is near.

[utterlyotterlyx]

ooo i have an idea

just something fluffy where reader loves hugging azriel because he always wraps his wings around her? maybe a little comfort fic after reader and az go on a rough mission together

Your wish is my command x

You Are My Shelter

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - No one can comfort you like Azriel can, and after a mission goes wrong, you need him wrapped around you more than ever before.

Warnings - blood, injury, angst, lots of fluff and comfort, happy-ish ending

It wasn't a rare occurrence for you to accompany Azriel on the odd mission. He would never admit it, but you, his mate, was definitely his favourite partner.

You were quick and nimble, observant, and you held yourself with a feline prowess that had him awestruck each time he saw you prowling through a woodland or the bridge of rooftops clad in your matte black second skin and hugged and kissed ever single curve of your body.

Azriel may have been the Spymaster of the Night Court, the King of Shadow, but you were death incarnate, his Queen.

Though, he and your shared family saw a side to you that no enemy would ever be able to catch a glimpse of. Deep down, beneath that harsh exterior, you were the softest thing any of them had ever encountered, and as Azriel lingered back, watching you stalk along the rooftops of Windhaven, did he know that as soon as you reached the cabin that you called home, would you beg him to hold you, to wrap you up in his arms and furl his wings around your form.

It was your favourite thing in the world, your greatest comfort. Despite knowing of his largest than most wingspan and the certain benefits of it, there was nothing you loved more than to have his wings curl around you and block out all of the negativity of the world. As long as you were with Azriel, nothing bad could ever happen to you.

The situation hadn't been so different that night you had met him and your entire life had changed.

Azriel had been your target once upon a time, the one you had been sent to trail, to learn more about, and the moment you laid eyes on him, the tug you had felt in your soul for your entire life had become unbearable. The feeling didn't stop you from doing what you needed to, sauntering after him down the dark alleys where he stalked, sticking to the shadows of his shadows and going by unnoticed.

It was easy to tell how surprised he was by you the moment he had found himself pinned beneath your body, unable to move as could only watch as his shadows danced to the rich tone of your voice.

The infamous Shadowsinger had heard of you, the assassin whose reputation superseded his own, born in Autumn and the personal spy of Beron himself. Azriel should have been disgusted by you, but as your eyes connected and he saw that gentle fire spark within them, he knew that you had no other choice, no other option but to do what you did best. Kill. Azriel could sympathise with the notion.

Beron's assassin was his mate, and there was no way that he was ever going to let you fall back into the clutches of Autumn, he knew what Beron would do if he knew of the bond between you.

Fond eyes followed you, you could feel Azriel peering upward past the treeline as you hopped from beam to beam, not wavering for a single moment, even when he appeared behind you on that thatched rooftop.

"Don't throw me off of my game, Az," your voice was low and tinted with warning as it sang to him, and he had to reign his shadows in from dancing toward your melodic tone. They had a job to do too.

There was no way that you were going to refuse to stay cooped up in your cabin in Velaris whilst Azriel hunted the males who had took it upon themselves to continue to barbaric act of wing clipping.

Rain pattered against the wooden beams and thatched roofs, the gentle sound of it covering the sound of your cat-like movements as you searched every home, every clearing for a sign of those males, excited to tear them apart for even thinking that they could harm a female and get away with it.

"Oh, I wouldn't dare," he purred softly to you, his blue siphons dimly glowing in the night, the rain plastering his hair to the sides of his face.

Azriel ran his callused fingers through his locks and looked to you, "You're extra cold today, my love," he motioned to you, namely to the mask you had put on that evening, a mask that even he found intimidating, so gods help anyone else that crossed you that night.

Damn him.

Twin blades idly twirled in your gloved fingers, you had unsheathed them from your thigh holsters the moment you had landed on the thatched shelter, just in case any Illyrian male was stupid enough to attempt to meet you there. Countless moments had gone by when Azriel had watched you take down men three times your height and build, you were as quick as the speed of light, your agility was something that even he couldn't stand against, and he loved you for it.

He had finally met his match and found his equal in one fell swoop.

The tight coronet that Nesta had styled for you glistened in the moonlight, two thin slices fell over your face and they whipped against the breeze as you turned to face him, "I'm just feeling extra broody today is all."

Azriel cocked his head to the side and smirked, too entranced by you to notice his shadows slithering up his legs and coiling around his thighs, "You're due on your cycle soon."

Your eyes narrowed and you took a single step toward him, the beam creaking under your weight but you didn't falter, you didn't wobble, your balance was pristine, "That has nothing to do with it."

Silly moments like that were what made you happy, how, even in the midst of a mission, he could still find ways to tease you and make you smile. Azriel opened his arms to you, his wings unfurling from the tucked back place behind his back, inviting you in, "Do you need a cuddle?"

You could never say no to that.

The resolve within you fractured and fell, and you wasted no time in sheathing your blades, shrugging innocently, you told him, "It would be rude to deny you the comfort."

"It really would."

Azriel was too focused on you, on your bright eyes and curled lips to notice his shadows darting about in warning, and he didn't realise until it was too late.

A metallic tang tinted the air, and you inhaled sharply, stumbling backward a couple of steps before your foot slipped and you were sent tumbling off the beam. Azriel dove off after you, he didn't waste a second, he saw the pain twist in your features, but he wasn't quick enough, and you landed on the ground with a sickening thud, a soft cry flew from your lips.

Arms were around you instantly, his fingers were flittering around the arrow that was burrowed into your shoulder and the nausea hit you like a horse as all of the fire within you vanished from your body. Footsteps thundered from all around you, but you couldn't pinpoint the exact direction of their origin as your world span.

Muffled words enveloped the world where you lay, "Get out of here, Az. They're coming."

Azriel knew it, he could hear their shouting and stalking footsteps, and he cursed himself and his siphons for meddling with you whilst you were so high up, so vulnerable to their arrows. Azriel had stolen your focus.

Faebane held a putrid scent, it had always made his nose burn and crinkle, he clasped your face in his hands, noting your weary eyes that were getting heavier by the second. The arrow was protruding from your shoulder and he could smell your blood mixed with the poison, there was a lot of it, you were loosing too much too fast.

"I'm not leaving you here," he hoisted you up in his arms, cooing soft apologies as you groaned in his embrace with every turn his shadows barked at him to take, half of them scouting ahead whilst the other half wrapped themselves around your wound, applying pressure and doing their best to keep you comfortable, "Eyes on me, Angel."

The sound of his desperate plea gave you enough strength to keep your eyes open, you fought the darkness as hard as you could until you felt the hope that you'd gotten far away enough for Azriel to stretch his wings and soar into the skies.

It was usually a thing you loved, flying with Azriel, he made any excuse he could to take you flying, just so that he could hold you close to him. Not like he needed any reason at all to touch you, but he would always find one.

You had never felt so weak, or so stupid, or so helpless in that moment. Azriel held you close, pleading at you to keep you pretty eyes open, to stay awake, and you tried, you really did, but it was too hard.

Only when Azriel landed in Velaris did your consciousness jolt, purely due to the sound of his roaring voice shouting for Rhys who had appeared moments later with Madja in tow, commanding Azriel to place you onto the bare table thanks to Nesta's quick sweep that sent an array of plates and glasses crashing to the floor.

Sickly paleness clung to your skin, sweat coated your brow and you were shivering so violently that your teeth were rattling in your mouth, and your gaze shifted to Madja whilst Azriel told Rhys, Nesta, and a newly appeared Cassian what had happened with a strained voice.

"Is she going to be alright, Madja?" Rhys' voice echoed, he felt so far away, but from the stoic hand he had rested on your forehead, you knew he was much closer than you thought.

Madja was silent for a moment, her lips were tight as she pulled the arrow from your torn flesh, sympathy flashing in her eyes at the powerful cry that she had pulled from your lips, "She's lost a lot of blood," that much was clear from the red coating the tabletop, "But she'll be fine," Azriel was by your side, releasing a breath he didn't realise he was holding, pressing his lips to your hairline and stroking the matted hair away from your face.

Gauze become embedded into the wound, coated in a healing tonic that made you hiss and trash in Azriel's grip when it touched the gaping hole in your shoulder, and Madja worked as softly as she could as she wrapped thick white bandages around it. Madja left with strict instructions.

Rest. Fluids. Comfort.

Rhys hadn't even finished thanking her before he saw Azriel cradle you in his arms from the corner of his eye and whisk you to the room you two had shared before you had moved to your little cabin in the woods.

He had never been as gentle with anyone like he had been with you, you placed you onto the bed like a feather, pressing a cold cloth to your forehead to cool you down and rid your brow of sweat before he peeled his own clothes from his body and fell into the comfort beside you.

Weakly, you reached for him with trembling fingers, wincing as he pulled you into the position he knew that you needed. Head on his chest so that you could listen to his heartbeat which was racing in that moment, with your fingers tracing serene circles into the muscles of his pecs as his own hands wound around you, his wings drooping over your frame and binding you in their warmth and protection.

"I'm so sorry," he voice was wounded, strained with guilt, his fingers found the back of your neck and he worked slowly to unpin the coronet Nesta had styled for you, dropping the pins to the floor and unwinding the braids as you sighed softly at the tightness diminishing.

A hoarse hum rumbled at your lips, "It's okay, Az," you shivered again and he pulled you in tighter, being careful not to cause you any pain, and his wings curled tighter around your frame, waves of warmth seeped into you and your relaxed, "I'm here, I'm okay," your voice was a hush above a whisper, laced with exhaustion.

"I love you so much," his shadows grazed over your skin, and for a moment you believed that Azriel's hands were roaming over you, but they weren't, it was his shadows waving across every inch of you that they could, soothing you, cooing to you, "Go to sleep, Angel. I'll be here when you wake up, and we can spend all day like this tomorrow. How does that sound?"

The smile that graced your lips was peaceful, your lips parted to answer and Azriel waited, but when soft snores filled the room, all he could do was rake his fingers through your hair and swear to himself that he would never dare to put you in such danger ever again.

Author's Note

Just a little post-work drabble for you all x

[gilbertscurls]

hey could u do a story on how chris would skip classes to make out with girls for the whole period? thank uuu

hope you like it!! <3

Live a Little ➵ Chris Sturniolo

part 2!

The last bell of the day rang, and students poured out of classrooms, eager to escape into the late afternoon sunshine. Senior year felt different—there was a sense of finality to everything. Everyone was making plans, talking about college applications, and preparing for the next chapter of their lives. For you, though, high school had become a blur of routines and responsibilities, an endless stream of homework and stress about the future.

But for Chris Sturniolo, things seemed... easier. While you were juggling AP classes, extracurriculars, and planning for college, Chris was barely showing up to half of his classes. The rumor mill was always buzzing about what he was up to, and more often than not, the stories involved him skipping class to hang out with girls, spending entire periods in secluded spots around the school making out. He had a reputation, but somehow, he never seemed to care.

You had known Chris for a while, not well, but enough to know he wasn’t all that concerned about his grades or what people thought of him. He was always laid-back, joking around, and never seemed to take anything too seriously. It was both infuriating and fascinating at the same time.

Today, you found yourself lingering by the lockers, shoving your books into your backpack, when a voice broke through your thoughts.

“Hey.”

You looked up to find Chris standing a few feet away, leaning casually against a locker, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips. His dark hair was slightly tousled, his eyes glinting with that familiar spark of trouble. It wasn’t unusual to see him around, but the way he was looking at you now—directly, with a hint of something more—made your heart skip a beat.

“Hey,” you replied, trying to sound casual, though your pulse quickened.

“Heading to your next class?” he asked, though you knew it was just for show. You could tell by the glint in his eye that he had something else in mind.

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah… unlike some people, I actually go to my classes.”

Chris chuckled, pushing himself off the locker and stepping closer, his presence commanding and easy. “Come on,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “you don’t really need to go to every single class, do you? It’s senior year. Live a little.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small part of you was intrigued. “Are you seriously trying to convince me to skip?”

“I’m not just convincing you to skip,” Chris said, taking another step closer until he was right in front of you, his gaze locking onto yours, “I’m convincing you to spend that time with me.”

You felt your breath catch in your throat. There it was—the infamous Chris Sturniolo charm that so many girls seemed to fall for. But you were different. You weren’t like them, right? You had a plan, goals. You weren’t about to throw that away for a guy.

Still… something about the way Chris was looking at you made it hard to say no.

“And what exactly would we do?” you asked, crossing your arms, trying to maintain some semblance of control in this situation.

Chris grinned, his eyes flicking down to your lips for just a second before meeting your gaze again. “I’ve got a few ideas,” he said, his voice low and suggestive.

You felt a rush of warmth flood your cheeks, and you couldn’t help the way your body reacted to the closeness between you. Against your better judgment, the thought of skipping class—just this once—didn’t seem so bad. After all, it was senior year. What was the harm in having a little fun?

Before you could overthink it, Chris reached out and gently tugged on the strap of your backpack. “Come on,” he urged, his voice soft and coaxing, “let’s go.”

You hesitated for only a moment longer before nodding, allowing him to lead you down the nearly empty hallway. Your heart pounded in your chest as you followed him, half-excited, half-nervous. This wasn’t like you. You didn’t skip class, didn’t just ditch your responsibilities for a guy—but this was Chris Sturniolo. And there was something exhilarating about stepping out of your comfort zone with him.

Chris led you to a part of the school you didn’t frequent—the old wing, where barely any students hung out. The classrooms were mostly used for storage now, and the halls were eerily quiet. He opened the door to one of the abandoned rooms, glancing back at you with a playful smirk as he held it open for you.

You stepped inside, feeling a mix of excitement and anticipation. The room was dimly lit, with dusty desks scattered around and old textbooks piled in the corners. Chris closed the door behind you, the sound of it clicking shut echoing in the empty room.

Before you could say anything, Chris was in front of you again, his hands gently gripping your waist, pulling you closer. His eyes bore into yours, the intensity making your pulse quicken. You could feel the heat radiating off him, his breath soft against your skin as he leaned in.

“You’ve thought about this before, haven’t you?” Chris whispered, his lips dangerously close to yours.

Your breath hitched. You wanted to deny it, wanted to say that you hadn’t given Chris Sturniolo a second thought, but that would be a lie. There was something about him—something about his carefree, rebellious nature that intrigued you, even if you didn’t want to admit it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you whispered back, though the way your voice wavered betrayed you.

Chris chuckled softly, his hands sliding up your sides, sending a shiver down your spine. “Liar,” he teased, his voice low and sultry.

And then his lips were on yours.

The kiss was slow at first, testing, but it quickly deepened. His hands gripped your waist tighter as he pulled you closer, your bodies pressed together. You melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. It felt so wrong, but so good at the same time.

Chris backed you up against one of the desks, his lips never leaving yours as he lifted you onto the edge. You gasped softly at the sudden movement, but he silenced you with another kiss, his hands now roaming your body, sending sparks of electricity through you.

It wasn’t like the stories you’d heard about Chris—about how he’d make out with girls and then move on, never caring about what happened afterward. This felt different. There was a hunger behind his touch, yes, but there was also a tenderness. He wasn’t rushing, wasn’t treating you like just another girl. He was taking his time, savoring every second.

You broke away for a moment, your breathing heavy as you looked into his eyes. “Chris…” you started, but he cut you off with another kiss, his hands cupping your face.

“Just this once,” he whispered against your lips, his voice full of heat and desperation. “Let me have this moment with you.”

And against your better judgment, you did.

The minutes passed in a blur of kisses and soft touches, your heart racing with every moment. You couldn’t believe you were here, in this empty classroom, making out with Chris Sturniolo of all people. But it felt right, somehow. Like this was where you were meant to be, even if it didn’t make sense.

Eventually, you pulled away, both of you breathing heavily. Chris rested his forehead against yours, his hands still on your waist, holding you close. For a moment, everything was quiet, the only sound being the soft hum of your breathing.

“We’re gonna get caught,” you whispered, though the thought didn’t seem to bother you as much as it should have.

Chris smirked, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Probably,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “But it was worth it.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” Chris shot back, his smirk widening.

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. Maybe he was right. Maybe you did love it—loved the way he made you feel, like you could break the rules just for a little while and the world wouldn’t fall apart.

As the final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day, Chris pulled you in for one last kiss, slow and sweet. “We should probably get out of here,” he said, his voice softer now.

You nodded, slipping off the desk and smoothing out your clothes, trying to compose yourself before heading back into the hallway. Chris grabbed your hand, lacing his fingers with yours as you walked out together, not caring if anyone saw.

For the first time in a long time, you felt alive. And maybe, just maybe, skipping class for Chris Sturniolo wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274

[sturnprime]

SO WRONG IT’S RIGHT, chris sturniolo 🩵

from h ꨄ︎ ⎯ hi sooo streetboy!chris x richgirl!reader

i hope you enjoy 🩵 (join the taglist here)

chris doesn’t know how he ended up here. he doesn’t know how the two of you ended up with you situated on his lap, in your room of all places, when the two of you are utter opposites with entirely different ways of life. 

he’s the type to roam the streets, indulge in late nights with his friends that keep the whole city up. you on the other hand, you’re the pristine sort; the one whose dad forbids her from being close to boys exactly like chris and has done so since you were much younger. it’s an interesting dynamic and he can’t help the thrill rushing through him as you whisper for him to be quiet. it’s adorable, the panic flooding through you even with your bedroom door locked and your window wide open to simultaneously take away the smell of his cologne and provide a getaway for him if it gets to such.

his hands are wrapped around your waist, keeping you firmly in place as his lips travel the expanse of your neck and collarbone, his way of making his mark. not that it lasts long though because you’re instantly telling him he’s not allowed to mark you, telling him the sweet bruises forming on your skin like paint strokes across a canvas are only going to get you in trouble.

chris? chris doesn’t really care and when your pleading words escape your pretty plump lips, he can only seem to laugh, sucking harder. his hands grip you further and the moment a whine falls from your mouth, the corners of his mouth tug up into a smirk— a smirk that has your skin heating up within seconds. his teeth nip the skin below your jaw with purpose, his tongue quickly moving to soothe the slight sting.

“chris—“ you begin to speak but his right hand trails up to place a finger onto your lips, effectively shutting you up.

“shh angel, thought we had to be quiet, hm?” his words are laced in a mocking tone and you want to hate them, desperately want to hate even the mere idea of being with someone like him when your entire life you’ve been taught it’s wrong but there’s just something about him that throws every last one of your principles out the window.

he tilts your chin up with his finger, his calloused hand cupping your cheek as he forces your gaze to meet his. his eyes are blue, the shade you find in calming waters, but they hold a glint of fire in them. there’s a sense of challenge that dances in the pupils, almost urging you to deny him when he knows you can’t, knows he has your polished self wrapped around his finger.

his lips meet yours in a frenzy of adrenaline, his tongue parting your lips and sliding perfectly into your mouth to intertwine with yours in an erotic tango. his lips mould with yours, the slight swelling of his own locking your mouth into place as he moves you even closer, if possible. it’s as though even a small flutter of air wouldn’t be able to pass between the colliding of your chests against one another and he loves everything about it.

when he pulls away at last, his cheeks are slightly flushed and the sight serves as a reminder of exactly what you do to him. he would never have thought a girl like you could ever fuel his desire yet here you are, innocent doe-eyes looking up at him and your lips a touch bigger than when he first laid eyes on you. he wants to corrupt you, to take away every last bit of hesitance you have and crush it between his fingers until you’re begging him to prove your dad wrong, begging him to make you forget undoubtedly why this is a bad idea.

it feels so wrong yet at the same time, nothing has ever felt more right, especially not when your bodies slot together like destined puzzle pieces. it’s an invisible bond that forms between the two of you as you hear the sound of your parents’ voices from their room, a stark reminder of why this can’t be happening. none of this can be happening when they could walk in any minute, take away the soft feeling of his hips bucking up lightly. but then… why does the way his hands roam your body cause sparks of electricity to run through the course of your veins? why does it feel so fucking good if it shouldn’t be happening?

he notices your moment of slight reluctance and he wants to pull away, tell you that this isn’t what he wants so he can save the emotional turmoil that’s going on inside your pretty head but he’d be lying. he’d be lying if he claimed wanting to be apart from you now that he knows the way you whine when you’re needy or the slight gasps he can pull from you when you want more.

in an ideal world, the two of you don’t need to worry about your societal differences or just how complicated this new development is going to be. unfortunately, that world doesn’t exist but for a few fleeting moments, when he flips you onto your back smugly and you hit your bed with a little thud, it feels like any ounce of uncertainty leaves you. your only focus is on the way his fingers tug the hem of your baby tee until it’s completely discarded elsewhere. it’s not an ideal world but it still appears nonpareil.

TAGS 𖤐 @mattslolita @eyeliketoeatpoosay @chrissturniolossidehoe @middlepartmatt @raysmayhem-72 @conspiracy-ash !

[hobby1008]

Craving

If you use a translator, the sentences may be strange.

yunjin x m reader

Tags: creampie ,cheating

Word count: 19343

Yunjin is in a relationship that no one would envy. They are the couple that best fits the expression 'a handsome man and a pretty woman'. Yunjin is also very happy and satisfied with her current relationship. The only exception was her sex life.

Yunjin's boyfriend was also on the small side, and he couldn't satisfy her whenever she had sex with him. So Yunjin always satisfied her needs by masturbating alone after having sex with her boyfriend.

Yunjin was becoming increasingly dissatisfied with her needs, and she was starting to worry about it.

Unknown to Yunjin's worries, He always had pride and confidence in his girlfriend, and always wanted to introduce her to his friends. That's why he persuaded Yunjin, and Yunjin readily accepted, and the three of them, Yunjin, him, and you, had a drink together. The three of them started drinking in his room to have a quick drink.

He felt good bragging about his girlfriend, and the alcohol went down smoothly and he got drunk quickly.

When Yunjin was worried about his tempo because he couldn't drink, he passed out because he drank too much in a short period of time.

So you laid him down on the bed like you always did, and began to spend awkward time alone with Yunjin.

Since it was the first time you two met, you were thinking about what to say and how to get through this situation, and then you started talking to her about something sensitive, perhaps because you were drunk.

"Are you having a good sex life?" When Yunjin was looking at you, flustered by the sudden question,

He started to speak as if he knew

“He’s handsome and has a nice body, but he’s small there and his stamina is weak.”

Yunjin was about to get angry at your rude words, but they were all true

“I feel bad for Yunjin. I can’t satisfy you and I have such a beautiful woman.” You approached Yunjin and touched her, almost touching her, and when Yunjin was about to leave you, you grabbed her hand and placed it on your dick.

Yunjin was surprised by the heavy dick in your dick, and you started to whisper in her ear at her reaction. “How about I let you experience something you’ve never felt before?” Yunjin would never do it normally, but her desire had reached its limit, and she had to solve it. So Yunjin nodded shyly and you lifted her up and moved to the sofa, and then took off her panties to reveal her pussy..

Yunjin's private parts were very beautiful, her pubic hair was thin and soft, and her pink labia radiated a more attractive glow than any other woman. You couldn't help but get excited looking at this beautiful sight.

As soon as you started putting your fingers into her pussy, Yunjin bit her lips tightly and held back a slight moan. You started poking Yunjin's pussy, gradually increasing your speed at Yunjin's reaction.

Yunjin couldn't hold back a moan as she felt her sensitive part. You took the opportunity and whispered in her ear. "Don't hold back your moans. That bastard, if you get drunk anyway, whoever takes you will know."

Yunjin blushed shyly and nodded slightly. Seeing this, you became even more vicious. Repeatedly inserting your hand into her body and rubbing it brought on waves of pleasure. Yunjin quickly softened and looked at you caressing her with a blush on her face.

Yunjin couldn't help but moan in pleasure. Seeing this, you started to caress Yunjin even more, and at the same time, pretending to be worried about Yunjin's sex life, you started to humiliate Yunjin. "Ms. Yunjin, it's been hard so far. I'll make sure to satisfy you." You said, putting your tongue into Yunjin's vagina and lightly licking it.

Yunjin felt excitement surge through her entire body, and her legs unconsciously tightened around your tongue, and her moans became louder. "Ah~um~ no, it feels so good there~"

You laugh wickedly and press hard on her clitoris. Yunjin can't even resist the sudden pleasure. "Yunjin, this pretty pussy, I'll eat it all up."

Yunjin's cheeks are extremely hot, and her whole body trembles with embarrassment and excitement. She never imagined that she would be able to orgasm with his friend next to her boyfriend. However, Yunjin couldn't control her body. Every time you touched her, it felt like an electric current was flowing through her body, giving her extremely stimulating pleasure.

You took the opportunity to take your tongue out, but instead, your fingers quickly thrust in and out of her body, occasionally scraping her G-spot. "Take care of everything that's been building up." Your voice is full of seduction, making Yunjin almost fall for it.

When Yunjin felt that she had reached her peak, she suddenly heard a noise. Yunjin was surprised Surprised, you unconsciously close your thighs, but the doctor's fingers remain inside and don't come out.

It was your boyfriend's sleep talk,

You laugh at Yunjin's behavior and say, "I told you, don't worry and enjoy yourself. You'll never get caught."

Yunjin stutters in embarrassment. "Well… I'm still so anxious that I'll get caught." You smile proudly and wiggle your fingers inside her body, intentionally making loud and lewd sounds. "So what if I get caught? It's my fault for not satisfying Yunjin."

Yunjin blushes and tries to calm down. "Don't say that…" Yunjin's love juice flowed out even more.

"You are such a beautiful woman. Even the way you look so horny right now." You smiled, caressing her breasts with one hand and still caressing her pussy with the other. "Are you excited for your first proper sex?"

Yunjin gritted her teeth to keep herself from making a louder sound. The caressing of her nipple made her weak. She had not been satisfied for a long time. She had never been satisfied with sex with him, and the gap could not be filled even with alone time. She quickly became addicted to your skilled technique. The long-vacant spot seemed to have found a home, clinging to his long, thick fingers.

You moved faster and faster, occasionally handling her sensitive parts in different ways. Yunjin felt the heat gathering deep inside her body, feeling the heat as if it was going to burst. She gripped the sheets tightly and looked at you with excited eyes, unable to hold back the gasp that escaped her mouth any longer.

You smiled wickedly and pushed your hand further into her pussy, almost digging into her cervix. "Relax and leave it to me. I'll do it well I'll do it for you." Yunjin reaches her peak under your caress. At that moment, she feels as if the dirt she's been buried for a long time is disappearing, and her walls tightly wrap around your fingers and moan repeatedly.

You take your fingers away with a satisfied expression. Her expression is filled with happiness. Yunjin is panting. She knows it's wrong, but because of your kindness, she feels the happiness she's lost for a long time.

"Ms. Yunjin, how much must it have built up for you to go to caress and we haven't even started yet." You smile and gently slide your fingers along the inside of her thigh. Her body responds to your hand, her love juices continuing to leak out.

Yunjin closes her eyes, feeling the afterglow of her orgasm still lingering in her body. Her cheeks turn red and her lips part slightly, as if she's still immersed in happiness.

"I… don't know what to do. I know it's wrong, but I want to have proper sex." Yunjin's voice is thin like a mosquito, filled with shame and longing…

You lean into her ear and whisper. "Don't worry. Today, I'll make Yunjin experience unprecedented happiness." You reach out and caress her breasts, running your thumbs over her pink nipples. Yunjin immediately becomes attractive, and she gasps heavily and trembles all over.

You lower your head and put her nipple in your mouth, licking it gently, while your other hand continues to rub between her legs. Yunjin holds the sheet tightly with both hands and raises her head, moaning intermittently from her mouth.

"You can't do this here… Your boyfriend will find out…" Yunjin tries her best to stop your movements, but it's no use. You have a brilliant idea at her reaction.

You lifted Yunjin and headed to the bed where your boyfriend was.

Yunjin, who was in your arms, tried to get away with a surprised expression, but she couldn't, and eventually the two of you arrived at the bed.

"Don't worry. He would never know, his girlfriend is crazy about another man's dick." You say, moving your fingers quickly. Yunjin reaches her climax again next to her boyfriend, and collapses weakly on the bed in pleasure.

Yunjin is still shaking slightly from the aftermath of her orgasm, so she unbuckles your belt and takes out his already erect huge dick. "Mr. Yunjin, now show me how desperate you are." He pats her lower body and looks at her with authority.

Yunjin bites her lip and looks up at you with lustful eyes, fascinated by his dick even though her boyfriend is next to her. "You can do whatever you want, Mr. Yunjin."

Yunjin opens her mouth with a happy smile and puts your huge dick in her mouth. Your dick immediately fills her mouth and reaches deep into her throat. Yunjin is slightly out of breath.

I felt it, but I still tried hard to swallow it up and down.

Yunjin completely forgot that her boyfriend was next to her. She started to focus solely on satisfying her own desires.

Seeing her having a hard time swallowing, you gently stroked her head and said, "You can take it slow. The night is long and it's all your time." As you said that, you grabbed her head, straightened her waist, and started to forcefully put it in her mouth.

She whimpered as she felt your glans on the back of her neck. You moved it in and out of her mouth, causing waves of pleasure. When Yunjin thought she couldn't hold out any longer, you suddenly pulled your hand out, causing Yunjin to exhale sharply.

Yunjin knelt on the bed, panting, and wiped the mucus from the corner of her lips with the tip of her tongue. She knew that she must look very lewd at this moment, but the unconcealed desire in your eyes made her a little proud.

"Yunjin, your little mouth is really nice. Your skills are really great. It's so pitiful to be with a man who can't repay you for this kind of caressing." You grab your dick and shake it in front of her, and Yunjin unconsciously licks her lips.

"Now it's time to please Yunjin. I'll show you real happiness." You lean forward and push Yunjin onto the bed. You make her pussy even wetter.

Yunjin grabs your shoulder and begs. The desire inside her body burns even more intensely at the feeling she hasn't felt in a long time. You grab her waist and insert yourself into her warm and soft body.

"Ah——!" Yunjin couldn't help but scream, and he immediately covered his lips and shook his waist violently. The immense pleasure washed over her like a wave, and Yunjin moaned sadly, completely losing the strength to resist.

“Relax and feel my dick, I’ll send you to heaven,” you mutter in her ear as you increase your speed. You hit her most sensitive spot, and yunjin’s legs are pulled up to your shoulders, her entire body arching in a beautiful arc.

You start to enjoy her more by humiliating her with yunjin’s reaction. “I like my dick, so call me honey. Don’t be so small, but a big dick.”

Then she starts calling you honey without hesitation. “Uh… honey… it’s so good, it’s the best.” yunjin sobs, completely consumed by pleasure.

You bend down and kiss yunjin’s lips. Their tongues explore each other. yunjin hugs your neck tightly, begging for more.

“You’re mine, yunjin. From now on, I can enjoy your delicious pussy whenever I want.” Your low voice echoed in Yunjin’s ears, and her whole body magically got goosebumps.

However, Yunjin must have had a little conscience, “No… I can’t… I have a boyfriend…” she said, but Yunjin’s eyes were pleading with you, wanting you, and you stabbed her deepest part of her body with your dick again at her attitude.

“Boyfriend? That’s nothing. Only I can give you true happiness. I know how much your body yearns for me.” You stroke her nipples. Yunjin’s breasts changed into various shapes in your hands, and soon swelled and erected.

“Ah… no… I’m dying…” Yunjin didn’t think of stopping at the signal and pushed her even further. Her honey steadily flowed out, almost soaking her joints. Each thrust of yours gave her a pleasure she had never experienced before.

“Come on, tell me you’re honey, not that guy who can’t act like a man.” You whisper in her ear, and it’s almost hypnotic, and Yunjin falls into a violent desire.

“Honey, it feels so good, I’m happy now…” Yunjin sobs, her whole body shaking uncontrollably, and her consciousness seems to have drifted away from her body.

Yunjin feels like she’s about to orgasm, but your sudden interruption leaves her feeling empty. “Please don’t stop, honey, keep putting your dick in me, it feels so good,” she pleads, squeezing your dick.

You laugh, “How did you hold back with this kind of lust?” You start thrusting again, almost sending Yunjin to heaven with every thrust.

“Ah~! "I love you so much, honey, honey" Yunjin moans loudly, holding onto your back with both hands, leaving red prints. Her cervix contracts violently and a hot stream of water spurts, soaking their private parts.

"It's gone, how's it going, my dick." You pull away from her body. Yunjin flops down on the bed, panting, with a satisfied look on her face.

"I'm happy, honey… This is my first time experiencing something like this…" Yunjin says gratefully, but you haven't cum yet.

"It's starting now, Yunjin. We can do this all night." You laugh wickedly and hug yunjin.

You hug yunjin and bite her neck. yunjin instinctively moaned, but you grabbed her chin and said, "If you want more of my dick, show me how to do it. Otherwise, we'll end it here."

Yunjin had to understand what you were saying and find a way to please you. Otherwise, she wouldn't be able to feel your dick in the future. She blushed and begged. "Keep putting your dick in, honey. It feels so good. Just fuck me with that big dick."

"Great." You bury your head in her chest again. yunjin felt pleasure spreading from her nipples. She twists her body unconsciously and wraps both hands tightly around your neck.

"Um… honey… I want your big dick…" yunjin shyly says her thoughts. You seem very touched, and your deep laughter echoes through the room.

"Then take as much as you want." Your You hold your dick and put it on Yunjin’s lips. Yunjin happily stretches out her tongue and licks the front of it. You raise your head and narrow your eyes happily.

Yunjin carefully swallows your dick into her mouth, trying hard to please the man in front of her. You put your hand on her head and teach her how to suck it better. Yunjin follows your instructions and does her best to please him.

“You’re the best, Yunjin. I really like your small mouth.” You stroke her head as if you are grateful, and Yunjin smiles happily, realizing that your efforts were not in vain.

You enjoy Yunjin’s warm mouth, running your fingers through her hair, and occasionally caressing her cheek. Yunjin focuses on serving the big dick in front of her. Although it was a little difficult, she was very devoted.

“Do you like this position, honey?” Yunjin leaves a mark on the corner of her mouth and raises her head. asks.

"Of course yunjin your little mouth matches my dick well." You praise yunjin while holding her face in your hand and kissing her. yunjin smiles happily at your compliment and closes his eyes, falling into a sweet kiss.

After a long time, the two of you break apart. yunjin blushes and asks softly, "Can I eat your dick?" You laugh. "Of course, honey come and eat my dick."

yunjin holds onto her hot desire and obediently climbs onto your body and sits down slowly. "Ah~~" An exclamation bursts out of her mouth. Your dick is so full of her pussy that it almost makes her burst.

"Calm down yunjin, you'll get used to it." You say softly in her ear, holding her waist with both hands and helping her swing. yunjin starts moving up and down slowly, continuing to push inside of you. The two of you soon find the perfect rhythm.

"Your dick is so big that it's all inside, it's so good~" Yunjin kept panting

"Your boyfriend is right next to us, are you riding his dick? How lewd." You suddenly said. Yunjin's movements suddenly stopped and quickly started again.

She turned her head to look at him for a moment and said. "What are you talking about, honey… It's my boyfriend, honey…" Yunjin's face turned red like fire. "I like your big dick, honey, you make me so happy…"

You laughed lightly. "Yeah, a man who can't satisfy you is not worthy, you're mine now." She made a happy expression at your words, and you made her extremely excited as you thought about your future relationship with her.

"I… I'm just excited… I like getting fucked by you like this…" Yunjin admitted shyly, but you felt an unprecedented excitement at her words. She saw your reaction and her movements became more intense, and he almost penetrated her.

Yunjin no longer cares about shame and just wants to enjoy this forbidden pleasure. Your dick is like the strongest aphrodisiac that makes her unable to get off. "I'm cumming… honey… harder…" Yunjin continues to moan while shaking her chest violently, and she will soon reach the peak of her orgasm.

He sees Yunjin's state before her climax and for her. He grabs Yunjin's shaking chest and kneads it in various shapes, and his dick continues to pump upwards in time with Yunjin's movements.

"Ugh~ Honey, you squeezed too hard. Please be a little softer~" Contrary to her words, Yunjin wanted it.

Shake your waist harder.

"Don't stop, baby, let's cum together." You gasp and hold onto Yunjin's slender waist with both hands. You accelerate your thrusts as you feel the liquid overflowing inside her body.

"Baby, I'm about to cum~ Almost~ Ahhh~~" Yunjin's high-pitched scream pierces the sky, and a wave of heat rises deep inside her pussy and wraps around your cock. She also feels your cock swell and throbs inside her and knows that you're going to cum.

"Give it to me! Cum all over me, baby!" Yunjin moaned as she hugged you. Your cock finally ejaculated a large amount of cum inside her.

Yunjin is lost in the pleasure she's been wanting so much, and every cell in her body is filled with satisfaction. You lie beneath her panting, your bodies still connected, enjoying the afterglow of your climax.

After a while, you laid her down next to you, and yunjin's face turned red, and she smiled contently while looking at you with loving eyes.

But it wasn't enough to solve yunjin's long-standing desire, and she wanted to be filled again, holding the big dick stained with each other's love juices and moving it up and down.

You laid down on the bed and let yunjin take the lead. You stroke yunjin's long, soft hair with one hand and caress her flushed face with the other. "Yunjin is a woman who is really thirsty for dick." You joke.

yunjin blushed and lowered her head, but her body trembled again as soon as your fingers caressed the tip of her tongue. You smiled and said in her ear, "Don't be shy. We'll have a lot of fun in the future. I like you."

Yunjin looked back at her boyfriend lying next to her again, smiling, as if she had completely forgotten about him. She knew that once she put your erection in her mouth, she would never look back. Yunjin's reason and emotions all started to turn towards you, and you saw through her heart, "Come on, do it as much as you love me." His voice was low and sexy, so Yunjin couldn't help but obey.

As soon as his glans entered Yunjin's mouth, her warmth and slipperiness enveloped her. He hummed contentedly, grabbed the back of her head with one hand, and started pumping it with his mouth. Yunjin looked up at you with eyes full of lust, and. She began to feel a new love from you.

Your dick grew bigger and harder in her mouth, and soon her small mouth was full. Yunjin was completely out of breath and struggling. But she could feel that you were going to cum.

The moment you were about to climax, his enthusiastic mouth was interrupted by his tossing and turning next to you. Yunjin looked at you with a puzzled expression, but he admired the excitement shining in your eyes.

"Okay, honey. "I'll cum as much as I love you." You whisper, grabbing Yunjin's long hair and sucking it deeper. Yunjin nods happily, completely giving up resistance and deciding to be a woman for you.

Yunjin kneels and swallows your huge cock. Her mouth is filled with sweet taste, but she wants you more and continues to lick and suck your cock.

Even though her boyfriend is sleeping right next to her, she is asleep, not knowing that her lovely girlfriend is having sex with her friend.

Yunjin grabs your butt with both hands and pushes you deeper into her mouth. She knew that you would cum again. That's why she wanted to put his cock in her mouth even more. You also want to feel her mouth more, so you grab your head with both hands and start pushing it hard into her mouth. Yunjin feels your glans penetrating deep into her throat and gets even more excited, doing your best to please you.

Finally, you cum in Yunjin's mouth. She is happy With a smile, you tried to swallow all of your cum, but some of it flowed out from the corner of your mouth due to the large amount. You reached out and put the cum on her lips into her mouth, then ordered her to “get on top of that poor man.”

Yunjin obediently followed your words, and her boyfriend’s face was asleep in front of her eyes.

However, her guilt had long since disappeared, and she was eagerly waiting for your cum.

You also got on top of her and aimed your cum at her pussy. Yunjin enjoyed this situation of enjoying herself with her friend on top of her boyfriend below her, and she was excited.

Yunjin moaned loudly at your sudden penetration.

Yunjin was inserted into your huge cum, and her body was already surrendering to your cum, falling into pleasure. She had no intention of holding back her moans, even though her boyfriend was underneath her. Every time you hit her harder, she whimpers.

You are thrusting into Yunjin's body with all your might. Yunjin was having sex with this and making love.

Your hands are holding onto Yunjin's slender waist, and the flesh is shaking with each penetration. Your dick is filling her insides, drawing a lot of love juice from her.

Yunjin's love juice even stained her boyfriend's clothes below.

"Ah… I love it so much, it's the best." She longed for you even more, and you changed her movements to be even more intense. She fell into pleasure and completely out of control to your rhythm. Her moans were incredibly loud, and she didn't care if her boyfriend heard her anymore, and she just wanted to release the desire in her body.

Finally, after a fierce shock, you moaned and buried yourself deep in Yunjin's body. Hot semen spurted out, and her whole body shook. Yunjin also reached her climax at this moment, and her legs lost their strength and she couldn't stand.

He slowly pulled out his dick and looked at Yunjin's blank face with a satisfied expression.

Yunjin leaned weakly in your arms and stared blankly ahead. She knew that she couldn't go back to being shy and naive. She was now just a doll in your hands, and you could play with her and transform her as you pleased.

You held Yunjin and laid her down on the bed. Yunjin looked straight into your eyes and smiled beautifully. Built. You lean down to her and give her love by kissing her lips.

"I love you, you are mine now" you whisper in her ear, and she smiles happily and hugs me. "I like you too"

[sapphiresaphics]

Alright, let’s do this.

Part 1 because this video is 2 hours long and I can barely get through 20 mins without breaking down all the ways this video is not only wrong but grossly misrepresenting the source material.

LET’S GO!

Starts off on shaky grounds by complaining that Vi being in the enforcer uniform in the trailers for season 2 bugged her. Uses the term “copaganda” to describe it, despite that’s NOT what Arcane is about or supports. So we’re off to a good start huh?

Then they start by defining the terms for liberal and conservatism. Okay, that’s fine. If you’re gonna talk about these things you need to make sure everyone is on the same page.

During the description of how Season 1 begins they make the claim that Arcane is about these two sisters and that season 2 fails in this regard. This is a frustrating remark because Arcane IS about these two sisters. It follows their journey all the way through the show and both begins and ends with Vi and the song sung here.

BUT… they are not the ONLY main characters. And if they were the main characters they must be doing something wrong cuz Vi disappears entirely for 2 whole episodes across BOTH seasons. So rather than see Season 1 and 2 as two halves of a whole, you’re starting off with a bias that there’s a split and that season 1 is better than 2 inherently. I despise this leading commentary in an analysis video, but let’s see where we go from here. We’re only 8:40 into the video so it can’t be that bad, right?

10:11 wait… what’s wrong with brothels? You gonna come back to that weird throwaway line?

12:00 alright, yes… this is basically just explaining what the conflict is between the two cities. Many of the writers have stated that the central theme of the show is the cycle of violence, so having a conflict between these two cities makes senses. Where I think you screw up though is you seem to think this is a story about the left overcoming the right, instead of a background setting for the characters to be thrust against.

12:30 uh… Caitlyn DOES react to it though? That’s her whole questioning of Vi is about. She’s trying to figure out why Vi is there if there’s nothing recorded. It’s her first taste of the corruption she’s been oblivious to. And it’s odd enough that she feels sympathy for Vi and her situation. Don’t gloss over that.

12:50 okay but that’s not a fair comparison? If Vi HAD been processed normally and gotten a fair trial she likely would’ve been in a cell with a bed and all that stuff too. Markus DELIBERATELY BURIED her to cover his own skin. As commented on later “Markus felt it was more of a mercy to lock her up than to kill her.” The corruption surrounding Vi is UNIQUE to Vi. That’s WHY Caitlyn comments on it.

Noticing a lot of casual negativity being tossed around in here too. Suggesting Shimmer is the only form of medicine Zaun has is WILD and WRONG, but fine, let’s let it slide for now…

“Why Season 1 seemed Leftist”

Oh boy, that’s a title… alright whatcha got?

13:34 “ive given a detailed recap of what Season 1 says about Piltover and Zaun.” Actually… no you didn’t. You laid out the conflict and the story… but you said NOTHING about what this actually means. Describing police brutality isn’t a detailed recap of what the show is saying, you’re just describing plot points. And badly at that as I’ve already pointed out… you’ve said nothing yet.

14:21 “Vi was a burgeoning little revolutionary in Act 1” woah woah woah… slow down there, no she wasn’t. Vi has NEVER cared about revolution. What she WANTS and what she VOICES is that she wants Powder to have a better life than hers. She wants her family to be safe, and she’s foolhardy enough to risk her life getting there. And importantly: Vander talks her down from this. Because he’s been where she was. He knows how easily this talk of violence can spiral out of control and take away the people you love. And he asks Vi who she is willing to risk sacrificing for this violence… and when push comes to shove Vi CHOOSES NOT TO START A REVOLUTION because Powder being alive is more important to her. And at NO POINT PAST EPISODE 2 does Vi champion for Zaun’s independence or revolution. FAMILY is all that matters to Vi, so you’ve fundamentally misunderstood her character from the jump.

14:31 calling out the actions of Piltover’s isn’t fermenting a revolution though. She’s holding them accountable for their actions and begging them to change. And when they don’t follow through she falls back on her only method of getting stuff done that she knows… vigilante Justice. Vi has no interest in starting a revolution, she just wants Powder to be safe and taking out Silco is the way she thinks she can do that.

Also, Ekko is an isolationist. He keeps people AWAY from Piltover and Zaun while still benefiting from what they have to offer. He has good intentions, but pretending the conflict isn’t happening isn’t beneficial in the long run (as we will see in season 2).

16:00 “Caitlyn seemed to be going down the path of a character who would play a critical role in Zaun getting equal treatment and independence.” Yeah… that’s called setup. It SEEMS like that’s where she’s going. And If Jinx hadn’t blown up the council building maybe yeah that IS where she would’ve gone…. But the cycle of violence rears its ugly head and everything falls apart. That’s how story progression works. This isn’t a negative, this is just you projecting what you wanted to see happen.

17:10 “Vander believed it was better to submit to Piltover instead of fighting against it.” Uh… no… no he didn’t? Vander didn’t submit to Piltover at all. He made a deal with them. They don’t bother him, he doesn’t bother them. And when push came to shove he refused to give up his people and was steadfast in keeping the peace. That’s not “submitting to Piltover.” Submitting would’ve been giving his people up to maintain peace. And Vander didn’t do that. That’s a BAD READING of what Vander’s politics were.

Is now a bad time to remind everyone this user is a SPONGEBOB RECAP CHANNEL?

“Season 1 vs Season 2”

I have a feeling this is where a lot of my disagreements are gonna come into play…

18:16 you just SKIPPED OVER the fact that Caitlyn was TRYING to maintain the peace and objected to the invasion of Zaun and are intercutting scenes of Caitlyn AFTER the SECOND attack on the memorial with the scenes of BEFORE the attack to lump her in with the council. This is deceptive editing and you are misleading your audience here.

19:24 important key information left out here, the Riktus arrests weren’t sanctioned by Caitlyn or the city of Piltover. That was Ambessa’s men doing it against her wishes, something she SPECIFICALLY CHASTISES Ambessa for doing earlier.

Hey, what are these politics again? You haven’t really said anything is left or right, you’re just assuming that if you recap the story WE WILL KNOW what is or isn’t left and right wing. We are 20 minutes in and you haven’t really detailed the politics at all or explained WHY someone might think something is left or right wing. You had a WHOLE SECTION on it and yet you said nothing? That’s a little odd…

19:43 Caitlyn not using those low level cells is kinda important information, don’t gloss over that.

19:48 “Jinx uses MCU humor.” Oh for fuck’s sake. “MCU humor” is not a real thing. I’ve gone into this in other posts, but the idea that there’s this specific TYPE of humor that ONLY MCU films use is absurd. It also has its origins in right-wing talking points, which is why I called you right-wing when I first saw your initial post. As a leftist you shouldn’t be using the terms the right create to hate on things they despise. If you want more information, the term came about roughly around 2016 when the DC team up movie Justice League bombed at the box office. Right wing fans were angry that Joss Whedon was brought in to fix Zack Snieder’s version of the film and started demanding the “Snieder cut.” Because Snieder is known to be “serious” with his filmmaking and Whedon was from Marvel and is more lighthearted, this idea that any joke or form of lighthearted fun that was added to Justice League was “MCU humor.”

So fuck you as a leftist. You’re using RIGHT WING ideological talking points to back up an argument that the show isn’t “leftist enough?” This is one step away from using right-wing version of the term “woke” unironically.

20:31 “we aren’t told why the Zaunites come back other than seeing enforcers being nice influences them” no.. no that’s not what’s going on there. I’ll cite this as an example because it’s easy for leftists to understand, but segregation, civil war, and the genocide of native Americans were still fresh in peoples minds during WWI and WWII, and yet some of the bravest and best soldiers we had during then were black peoples and native Americans. Native Americans specifically used their native tongue to encode messages that the Nazis couldn’t understand. Why would minorities and people abused by the system of America come to the aid of America when fighting against such a huge foe? It’s not because some of them saw police officers being kind to them. It’s because deep down this is their HOME. For better or worse. And they believe that fighting for their home is more honorable than leaving it to rot and die. I dunno, maybe before passing judgement on these people who came back to defend their homes you consider the historical implications and see what minorities and Native Americans had to say about it their fighting in the wars?

I dunno, maybe it’s cuz you’re young and inexperienced with life it really pisses me off when kids like you imply these people shouldn’t have come back and that they’re some sort of traitors…

20:39 Jesus I can’t even go 8 seconds without you putting your foot in your mouth. Zaun comes to fight IN EARNEST because JINX showed up. Jinx was the symbol of the revolution to Zaunites. So when SHE chooses to fight, they rally behind her. Just like they WANTED to do back in episode 4.

20:51 what you call “being snarky” about Zaunites coming back to save their home from obliteration, I call being grossly disrespectful to the many men and women who gave their lives defending a country that does not have their best interest in mind all the time. Again, segregation was legal and women couldn’t vote during WWII, yet women got jobs and fought for their rights while black and minorities defended a country that only a few decades back had a literal civil war over their rights as property. I do not understand why I need to explain this to you, but I’m guessing school just hasn’t taught you to be respectful to people who sacrifice their lives for the prospect of the greater good.

Like Jesus Christ, how does someone who’s left leaning shit on this? It boggles my mind.

21:10 yeah… that’s the TRAGEDY of Piltover and Zaun. Sevika being added to the council is a COMMENTARY on the theme of the show. Because yes, you ARE supposed to be critical of this decision. You ARE supposed to be mad she’s the only Zaunite there. You ARE supposed to question if this is a bandaid solution that doesn’t really solve anything. Because Piltover and Zaun are ALWAYS going to be in conflict with one another. Piltover and Zaun represent the cycle of violence. What happened before will happen again. The solution to the systemic issues WASN’T solved.

And if you think that’s the show saying that’s a GOOD thing, you really missed the message of the show. Because the message is that we need to break out of the cycle of violence. That we need to NOT follow in these easily trodden footsteps. So Sevika being put on the council as a bandaid solution is a WARNING. It’s telling the audience that this ISN’T how you break out of the cycle. That this is yet another way in which the cycle is going to be allowed to continue.

THIS IS THE SHOW TELLING YOU THIS IS NOT GOOD, and you’re looking at it going “I guess the show thinks this is good?!!!???” Seriously, how do you misinterpret this as “centrist” or not a left leaning message????? The show is DIRECTLY CRITICIZING IT!!! OMG

[vanyatas]

omg hii !! can you write a clapton smut where the reader (a girl) turns him into a pathetic whiny mess ? like overstim or violently riding him im begging you 😭 ik he seems to talk a lot when hes around ppl but i think he would be sooo obedient during intimate moments 😵‍💫

no ur so true say it with UR CHEST !!!! FUCK !!!!!!!

EDGING.

Clapton davis x Fem.Reader

tags: Whiny Clapton (😋), Blowjob/Handjob, Dom Reader (MUAHAHAHAH), Edging, Overstimulation, Begging, Cum eating.

Always let me know if i forgot anything!!

Clapton Davis was probably the most popular guy in school, Already naturally gorgeous, Laid back hipster with no fucks to give, Kind and charismatic, it’s hard not to be when it comes to him naturally, Bold and optimistic, usually just confident all around.

He knew all of this about himself but. Here he is out of breath, tears threatening to leak out of his eyes, gripping onto your forearm as you’re repeatedly swiping your thumb across his already pleading cock head. Whines and whimpers, Pleads and cries for you to just let him cum as he’s doing everything in his will not to twitch and thrash around.

He remembers how he got here, he remembers hearing the teacher praise you about how you have the highest test scores of everyone in the class. How his ears rang when Mr.Kendall said Clapton should start taking after You.

At the time he was too busy trying to make Ione laugh and trying to impress her. Lighting the beaker in front of him, just for the fire alarm to go off and soaking the entire class in water.

At first he just laughed. It was a bit silly even if he knew something stupid, Then a bright smile etched his features as their teacher placed the graded test on his soaking wet desk. A blocky A was shining directly in his eyes. “Woah an A, Thank you!!” However as soon as he spoke those words the teacher leaned down to erase it into an F.

A defeated look replaced his features. His eyes lingered over to you as you try to wring out your jacket and save your homework and papers.

Another smile fell onto his face, The bell rang and he skipped his way over to you, a slightly startled expression he was met with.

Conversing with you, his mind was stuck on one thing. This was going to be too easy.

Yet here he is, Notes and practice tests scattered across the bed and floor as he’s staring directly at you. His mouth was completely soaked from his own drool, No matter how bad he wanted to cum it felt so fucking good being edged.

You’re cooing in his ear about how good he was doing and how gorgeous he looked being this slutty mess for you, your free hand wiped his drool away placing a kiss on his mouth and on his face.

Immediately he had reciprocated but stuffed his face in your neck, gripping onto your waist and your arm. “Mmmfmf Fuck Please. I wanna cum. I wanna cum so baddddd! Please please p-please let.” interrupted by his own loud whimper hiding his face deeper into your shoulder. “Y/N. Please ffuck. Please let me cum.”

His voice was strained, his neon teal shirt was soaked in his sweat. You’ve been at this for hours. He genuinely can’t believe he’s losing his mind over someone who he initially wanted to convince to cheat off of. You were pretty, You had the nicest voice ever, You were sweeter to him than any other girl he’s met. Easily he was slipped into this sort of submission after he kissed you. Felt your hands gently pawing at his chest and arms. Which lead you to your current situation.

“Clapton you’re doing so well for me.” You purred into his ear. Another swipe at his tip and he gasped grabbing at you tighter, if he even could. “You’ve held out for so long I think I can spare a bit of mercy.” you teased which made him feel even more light headed if he even could.

He felt you remove your hand off of his dick and he whined softly at the loss of contact. You gave him a small kiss on his nose and whispered. “Lay on your back.” he was at the start but he has found himself on his side trying to buck his hips into your hand.

Doing as he was told he felt his face get hot. He was still hard. It didn’t help to see you moving between his thighs which made him whine at just the sight. His body shivered as you started to place kisses against his length. One of his hand moved to hold your head very softly, just petting your hair and moving it out of your face. You were very pretty and he couldn’t help but bend to anything and everything you did.

Your hot mouth had encased itself around him and he let out a loud yelp. Your tongue softly flicked and moved around his weeping tip. “PleasePleasePlease Fuck.” he cried covering his eyes with his arm as his grip on your hair tightened. Tears spilled from his eyes, This feeling was too much but he didn’t want it to stop.

Your head bobbed lower taking in a majority of him in, with every move of your own he let out loud moans and pants, he doesn’t know how much more he could take.

You could tell, the way his hips bucked into your mouth out of instinct and his dick twitching and leaking unholy amounts of precum against your taste buds wasn’t unnoticed. You pulled your mouth off of him for just a second, soft kitten licks against him. “You can cum anytime you want gorgeous.” you whispered loud enough for him to hear, your mouth instantly wrapped back around him.

Clapton wasted no time, Gripping your head with both of his hands his eyes shakily stared at you as his bottom lip quivered, “Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Oh my god!” he basically shouted out as he finally was able to finish. he threw his head back and let out a soft whimper almost filling your mouth too much.

Wiping away your drool you swallowed before pushing yourself up to lay right next to him. He was still breathless. you wrapped your arms around him which he, without a second of doubt shoved his face between your chest and curled into you.

This made you giggle softly, stroking the back of his hair you kissed him all over his head which he leaned back to let you kiss his face, placing a million everywhere he just smiled at you lazily obviously exhausted from the relentless teasing you gave him.

“Can we study tomorrow? I’m so tired dude.”

Another giggle.

“Of course Clapton.”

————————

i need him so fucking bad chat i want him to skate across my mouth with HIS.

[skojukebox]

IDW Sonic 76: Tying Knots

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Lots of spoilers for Issue 76, don't read this if you haven't read that yet!

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The entire Mimic-Duo plotline was something I was content with for a long time because, for most of it, it seemed so easy and obvious what they were doing with it: you were taking a group of characters who were still attempting to ground themselves and learn to get along, and introducing someone who plays on distrust into the mix. Lanolin, who is having a rocky time with the perils of being a leader, is bamboozled. That is the obvious part of things that people pick up on in this story. 

Something that perplexingly falls to the wayside on surface level reading, particularly by younger readers for whatever reason, is Whisper’s side of this as a character with an arc revolving around relearning to tolerate and trust others. It’s part of what makes Mimic such a perfect villain for her; she is being confronted with a character who literally makes trusting anyone a dicey proposition. The Diamond Cutters as a narrative device for her is less about “Whisper relearns how to make friends” and more “Whisper learns how to trust again”. It’s kind of powerful, even a little daring for a silly comic about funny cartoon animals going on adventures. I think it’s what ultimately made her one of my favorite characters. Whisper got me back into Sonic because of this!

The Mimic infiltration seemed like a perfect plot point for both of these two goals. It’s basically like, the ultimate team building exercise. A deceitful bad guy plays a new leader desperate to prove herself and a tough lady with deep trust issues against each other. It worsens and becomes even more interesting with the Clean Sweep sweepstakes because Whisper actively begins to lie to Lanolin in order to lone wolf things. She even takes Tangle along for the ride! It actually got spicy there for a second. But even with that, this stuff is like… Super basic? Yes. It’s the kind of situation you would see in a Friendship is Magic episode, which would end with a gentle reminder to be good to each other and talk things out with your friends. That was what I was expecting.

 But as the Sweepstakes plotline went along, problems kept mounting. For several arcs now the comics have felt like it was laying out plot points with a fair degree of intricacy and foreshadowing. But in the back half of the arc, a lot of things started to mount which I would call at best snap decisions and at worst “tying knots”

“Tying knots” is a very understandable urge a storyteller gets while putting out a serialized tale with a lot of moving pieces. People become impatient, or lose focus, and your carefully laid plans start to look more daunting to pursue. There is an impetus to just patch things up as quickly as possible, especially when stuff is not being immediately received well. So rather than continuing onwards to an inevitably satisfying conclusion, you just tie off those plot threads into a messy little knot of an early ending and go “good enough.” There were several things that reeked of this at the tail end of the arc (looking at you “Clutch knows things about Surge”), but for the sake of brevity, the worst one was Duo being revealed as Mimic.

The reveal itself is bad. Like, it’s funny! That’s undeniable! But it’s still really bad. It was a plotline that IDW was running for literal months across multiple arcs, and they had it end with a throwaway gag of him accidentally having his phone on speaker. This was a clear case of hole-filling; they had run up against a wall where they either didn’t know where to take it anymore or no longer felt comfortable stretching it out, and they just pruned the plotline. They cared so little they made the reveal a preview page, which pissed me off pretty bad when I just got it randomly tweeted to me by the official account as a spoiler, but that’s beside the point.

That was dumb and definitely the most flagrant case of going “fuck it lets get this over with,” but I honestly think the character who was failed the most by the plotline was Lanolin, because this plot does not end with a message about characters realizing they need to communicate better, or that teamwork makes the dreamwork, or really… Any discernible message or moral?

It ends with Lanolin prostrating herself and announcing that she sucks ass for two issues, profusely apologizing, and none of the characters she is apologizing to even reacting to anything. She apologizes for being fooled by the character who also fooled everyone else for like a year. She apologizes for being lied to by Tangle and Whisper. In response to this, Tangle makes fun of her capability to do something, and Whisper ignores her and says she wants to shoot Mimic in the face because she… Learned nothing from this, and I guess was right all along. You can’t trust anyone except Tangle. She’s just right back to her static state of “I want revenge, I'm a badass.” Like… What was the point of anything she’s done over the past year of comics at all? 

I don’t really care about the Diamond Cutters being broken up. Okay, I do, it’s sad and I liked them! It might be temporary, who knows. It’s a comic book, stuff comes and stuff goes eternally. But like… Holy hell, what a failure on multiple levels for that subplot. It makes Lanolin look like a sadsack, it makes Whisper actively unlikable and regresses her character, makes the message of the whole thing such winning ideas as “it’s okay to lie to your friends” and “you better not ever fuck up”. and makes me feel like I just wasted months being invested in the original cast of this comic at all.  

It feels like a truncated and confused ending to an arc if I am being generous, but less charitably like a panic redirect, or even editorial interference. After aaaaall those months of carefully set up, deliberate pacing and foreshadowing, it just kind of gets wound off into nothing and we merrily jaunt off to something else. This is a very, very good example of why if you set out to play the long game for something, you should keep your patience intact, because I guarantee trying to put a slapdash taped on conclusion to it because it’s not quite as well-received as you might have initially hoped will just make a mess of things.

I’m not usually too critical of IDW. In fact, I liked some of the other stuff going on in this issue and will continue to follow the glacial pace of my current favorite comic! But… In summary: bad taped together conclusion with an even worse moral. The bad guy basically won, which is not only very un-sonic-y, it’s also treated with zero gravity. Very poor, slapdash, and left a bad taste in my mouth. Do better, guys!