#listen when i was making the list i was like 'there needs to be a few easy cop outs'

[sweetkpopmusings]

heart-fluttering moments with ateez <3

a/n: trying to clear through my very long list of drafts/ideas, and i desperately needed to write some more for ateez. hopefully these give you a nice little boost of serotonin (even if they propel you into your feelings, as they did to me) <3 pics not mine~

content: fluff, can be read as nonidol!ateez | wc: 1.4k | warnings: none really! | pairing: ateez x gn!reader | requests: open

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

seonghwa♡‧₊˚

when he says your name. 

seonghwa, always eager to catch your attention, had plenty of nicknames for you. you loved each and every one of them because, on top of classics like love and darling, he crafted special ones for you and only you. when he really wanted your attention, though, he said your name. whenever he called out to you, you’d be met by his big, sparkling eyes. his voice was always a sweet coo when he said your name, like it was his favorite word in the universe. seonghwa adored the way your whole body responded to him, alight with affection, whenever he called out to you. you never felt more like yourself than with seonghwa, and all it took to make you feel like the only person in the world was him saying my y/n~~ if only you knew that seonghwa folded twice as hard whenever you said his name. one day, maybe soon, he’d tell you his name never sounded perfect until he heard it in your voice.

hongjoong♡‧₊˚

when you tell him about your day.

hongjoong, though subtle about it, was completely and utterly enamored by you. he was not one for grand romantic gestures. he would partake in these on special occasions, particularly if you were fond of them or at least got a good laugh out of it. hongjoong, however, preferred to express his love for you through everyday actions. in particular, hongjoong loved nothing more than asking you how was your day, my love? he could happily sit there for hours, cherishing the way your voice engulfed him. he’d smile brightly, eyes locked on yours, listening intently to every word you said. if you ever felt as though you were talking too much, hongjoong would insist that his favorite part of the day was talking to you. inevitably flustered by his casual confession, he’d tease you playfully, quickly asking you to tell him more and more because he can never get enough of you.

yunho♡‧₊˚

when he tells you stories.

yunho thought about you constantly. while he was too shy to confess this unless you two were feeling extra soft for each other, it was clear to everyone around yunho that you were always on his mind. everyday, yunho would make mental notes of things he wanted to tell you. sometimes, if a day was full of anecdotes he knew you’d love, he’d actually write them down on his phone, a list full of nonsensical reminders of how he saw you in everything. as soon as he could get to you, yunho would reenact every funny moment just to hear you laugh. his heart soared whenever you called him ridiculous after a dramatic retelling of an almost unbelievable story. you thought this was how yunho was with everyone, until, when speaking with other members, you joked about a story no one else had heard before. yunho explained it to them, but not as energetically as he did for you. this was the moment you realized that he was your storyteller. yunho made you feel special in every way, and this special habit of his was no exception. you were, after all, his favorite audience.

yeosang♡‧₊˚

when he remembers.

yeosang is more often than not on his own plane of existence. his mind is one of a kind, and you are frequently entertained by the way he thinks, especially when it takes your conversations and ideas into entirely new territory. despite being a little “airheaded” sometimes, yeosang never forgot a thing when it came to you. he would remind you to restock groceries–somehow he always remembered exactly which items you tended to forget–and he always asked you about upcoming plans he knew you were excited about. one time, when he asked you about an event that you had only mentioned once months prior, you joked that it felt like he was your personal assistant. yeosang, smiling, said i might as well be. i keep a calendar of your life in my head all the time. you laughed because it sounded ridiculous, but the look in his eyes revealed that this was not a joke. when you asked him why, he answered i never want to miss a thing about you. 

san♡‧₊˚

when he tells you how much you mean to him.

san’s heart was undoubtedly the biggest on the planet. his love was generous and open, never letting anyone feel anything but their best. in san’s eyes, however, your heart was the most beautiful thing he’d ever had the pleasure of knowing, and he was honored every day to have a place in it. his terms of endearment for you always reflected how much he adored you: my angel, my star, my world, and so on. san didn’t stop there. on nights he was feeling especially soft for you, san would melt your heart with the sweetest words of adoration. after laughing at your joke, he’d smile widely and say no one makes me laugh like you do. you are so special. before saying goodbye on the phone, san would sigh contentedly, asking you to promise him that you’d never forget how much you mean to him. of course, you promise him, because you would promise him everything. you can hear the joyful look on his face as he says my y/n, you are more precious to me than you’ll ever know. 

mingi♡‧₊˚

when he carries things for you.

mingi was everyone’s princess, including yours. mingi, however, did not think it was fair that only he got the princess treatment in your relationship. he loved when you took care of him, all blushed cheeks and giggles and butterflies in his stomach. what made him feel on top of the world, though, was reciprocating your kindness and care. his heart almost burst out of his chest every time you smiled and said thank you. mingi thought there was no greater honor than being helpful to you. you changed so much of his life and him for the better. he wasn’t quite sure how to express that gratitude and amazement, so he figured the least he could do is carry your groceries, lift heavy objects, or hold every item as you shopped through your favorite stores. any time you asked if he wanted help, even if he was struggling to balance himself, he’d deny it. if you pushed back, saying you could carry things too, he’d look at you with a small pout and shining eyes and ask, shouldn’t i be the one who takes the weight off your shoulders? from that moment on, you let him carry whatever he wanted.

wooyoung♡‧₊˚ 

when he thinks of you first.

wooyoung never, ever shied away from showing his affection toward you. he’d compliment you endlessly, tease you to make you laugh, buy you thoughtful little gifts, and overall make you feel special. you were his beloved, after all. a habit wooyoung developed as you became an even bigger part of his life was thinking of you first, always. it was instinctive and subtle, but it reflected just how deeply wooyoung cared for and cherished you. he would hand you a water before you even realized you were thirsty. he’d bring your coat to you as you stepped out the door because he knew it was cold outside. he’d cover corners and guide you through tight spaces so you never got hurt. when deciding on something, he would ask for your thoughts on it, giving you his undivided attention as you spoke. wooyoung didn’t even notice that he did this, until you thanked him one day for always being so caring. he shrugged, failing to bite back a heartwarming smile, and told you no need to thank me. caring for you is my favorite thing to do. 

jongho♡‧₊˚

when he acts silly.

jongho did not take long to show off his silly side to you. from early on in your relationship, he felt so safe around you. to jongho, it was very clear that you were his person. this mean that he felt like he could truly be himself, so long as you were with him. as he grew more and more comfortable with you, he acted goofier. jongho loved to see you laugh, and his favorite sound was your laughs mixed together. he always fell into a giggling fit whenever you joked around with him too. he adorees how silly you can get because, in his mind, it is even more proof that you two are on the same wavelength. whenever he is laughing with you, jongho feels at home in a world only shared with you. everyone who knows jongho can always tell when he has been with you because he is brighter. you give him energy, even on his most exhausting or difficult days. there is a reason jongho always calls you my happiness. 

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[rikisrosejing]

- [ 6 : 24 ] - k.sn - 엔하이픈

sunoo in which he cuddles with you in bed and gets needy for your pretty lips and pussy. ˚˖𓍢ִ໋🦢˚

trigger warnings :: face sitting, pet names, soft¡dom sunoo. <- let me know if i missed anything!

authors note :: short sunoo fic bc i got some motivation the day before thanksgiving!! 🧸ྀི

© :: also thanks to @alessialvl for the inspiration!! it was her sunoo nsfw audio that gave me this idea. ( she gave me permission to do this. )

18+ minors, do not interact!! you’ve been warned.

sunoo was really needy today, mostly because he had a rough day during practice and he needed to take his mind of something less stressful. he had his head buried in your chest and his arms wrapped around your waist, gently caressing your hips.

“what’s wrong, ddeonu?” you asked him, gently stroking his hair as he sighed with contentment, nuzzling his head even more into your body.

“rough day..” he mumbled, not even trying to form a full sentence in front of you. he couldn’t not, even if he really wanted to. you were just too pretty and innocent for your own good.

you responded with a little hum as he shifted in his position, making so that he was straddling you. he looked so cute in this moment, all pouty, and his eyes were lost in your beauty that he worshiped.

he leaned in for a kiss in which you reciprocated, his lips soft and sweet. you loved the way his tongue would so easily slip into your mouth, rubbing against your own. you sighed as sunoo switched positions so that you were now on his lap.

his lips and mouth tasted like vanilla mixed with strawberries, it was just so ethereal. the flavor just made you feel so alive and well, you two loved each other to the moon and back.

as you two made out for another couple of minutes, he pulled away, breathing heavily slightly.

“i wonder what you taste like..” you heard him say under his breath. that’s when you realized that he wanted to eat you out.

that’s been on his bucket list for a while, now that you think about it. he’s been wanting to have you straddling him, his lips devouring your pussy.

“ddeonu..” you sighed, contemplating your next moves. were you really gonna sit on his pretty and innocent face?

after a few seconds of thinking, you laid him down on his back and crawled over him. he looked a little puzzled, but pleased nonetheless.

a/n :: i recommend listening to this during the next paragraphs.

“really? you’re gonna let me taste you?” you bit your lip, doubting and hesitating your decision. he pouted, gently grabbing your hips and bringing it closer to his face.

“please baby, let me taste you..” he begged and whined, drooling slightly. you couldn’t say no to him. he was too cute to resist.

“fine.” you gave in, letting your pussy cover his mouth. he gasped, but began licking and lapping your wetness. he whined and whimpered, but they soon began to turn into hums of pleasure. he sucked on your sensitive buds, relishing the taste of it.

you moaned softly, whining at the feeling of his warm and soft tongue on your pussy. you gripped onto the pillow and his shoulders, which made him lap even faster. sunoo’s tongue felt like heaven and it was deep inside of you.

you gently tugged on his hair, indicating that you were gonna cum soon. you were too much of a whining mess that you didn’t wanna form a coherent sentence just because of how good he was making you feel.

“s-sunoo!” you moaned, letting yourself release into his mouth. he happily licked up all of your sweet juices and the room was filled with the slurps coming from his mouth.

“i want more..” he whined after licking every single drop clean. you two ended up just showering together after that and cuddling in bed, watching some random k-dramas.

® :: ONCE AGAIN TYSM TO MY MOOT @alessialvl FOR GIVING ME INSPIRATION AND MOTIVATION!!

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When You Call Them Clingy| Hyungline

Hyungline x Gn!Reader

Request: I hope you enjoy!!! <3

Bangchan

The soft hum of the studio usually made you feel at peace, especially when you were just spending time with Chan. You were always glad to support him in his creative space, and you enjoyed watching him work. It made you admire and love him even more than you already did, to see ihm where he felt most comfortablte.

His studio, a mix of chaos and harmony, had always been a safe space where you could just sit quietly, listening to his music flow, while you did your own thing. It wasn’t a busy session, so you figured it would be a relaxing evening- just the two of you, in quiet company, without needing to talk or be overly present.

Which after the day you had was something you needed.

But, in a rare occurrence, Chan wasn’t just focused on the music today. Every few minutes, he’d stop, look over at you, and ask if you needed anything.

"Are you comfortable?" "Do you want something to drink?" "Is the light okay? I can turn it down if it’s too bright."

At first, you smiled and humored him, appreciating the concern. He was always thoughtful like that, checking in to make sure everyone was doing well. But after a while, the constant attention felt like more than you were prepared for.

It was subtle, almost like he couldn’t quite bring himself to trust that you were fine on your own. That he couldn’t leave you alone for even a minute. The steady rhythm of his work seemed to be interrupted each time he looked over, his eyes scanning your face, waiting for a reaction, for some indication that you were okay. It wasn’t just the questions- it was the way he seemed to hover around you, constantly adjusting things to make sure you were comfortable, even if you didn’t ask for it.

You shifted in your seat, trying to get comfortable, but the tension in your chest was growing, an invisible weight pressing down on you. The events of the day had drained you- errands, calls, the never-ending list of things you still had to do- and all you wanted now was to relax, to sink into the quiet. You weren’t used to being babied, and it was starting to irk you that you were.

“Chan, you’re being a little clingy, don’t you think?” you blurted out, the words escaping before you could stop them; coming out way sharper than you had intended.

Thus, the moment they left your mouth, you regretted them.

His head snapped up, and you could see his entire body freeze, mid-motion. The soft click of his mouse was the only sound that filled the room, the silence stretching longer than you intended. You quickly glanced at him, feeling the weight of the moment settle over you like a heavy fog.

The hurt flickered in his eyes, as he stared at his computer screen, and you immediately wished you could take the words back. The Chan you knew was warm, dependable, and always in tune with others, but he wasn’t immune to being hurt, even if he was quick to hide it. His shoulders slumped just a little as he took in your words, the usual ease in his expression slipping away.

“You’re not bothered, are you?” Chan asked quietly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if testing whether he’d heard you correctly. You watched as he swallowed his fingers twitching over the soundboard.

You could tell he was trying to mask the hurt, but the slight edge of defensiveness in his tone couldn’t go unnoticed.

"No, it's just- it's a lot, Chan," you said, trying to backtrack. "I know you care, but I can do things myself."

His expression faltered, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he nodded slowly, a quiet acceptance in his eyes that made the room feel colder.

“Okay,” he replied softly, the one word holding more weight than you expected.

He stood up from his desk, his hand running through his hair in a rare moment of uncertainty. You watched as he stepped away, moving to the corner of the room where he kept his equipment, his movements slow, deliberate.

For a second, you thought he might say something else, some explanation or defense. But instead, he settled into a quiet stillness, his attention shifting back to the computer in front of him.

But the energy in the room had changed. There was no longer the usual comfortable buzz of creativity between you both. His focus was fixed on his work now, but you could sense the space between you growing- not from distance, but from something unspoken that had settled between you. Something heavy that neither of you was willing to address just yet.

The soft click of keys echoed through the room, but it felt far away now, distant. You turned your gaze back to him, but he wasn’t looking at you. The spark in his eyes- the one that had always made him seem so open and present- was dimmer now, as if the energy was draining from him, and the room felt quieter for it.

You opened your mouth to speak again, to apologize, to fix the tension, but no words came. The weight of your earlier remark had lodged itself too deeply between you. Instead, you sat there in silence, your shoulders tense as you fidgeted with your phone, trying to distract yourself.

You felt horrible. You could feel it in the pit of your stomach, the gnawing regret. You hadn’t meant it to come out like that. You had only wanted some space, some quiet to yourself. But in doing so, you had hurt him- someone who had only ever wanted to make you comfortable, to show that he cared in his own way, despite his busy life.

As the night wore on, the conversation you thought would flow so easily never came. Instead, you found yourself lost in your thoughts, your mind circling back to his quiet reaction. The weight of his silence hung heavy, and you realized that things had shifted in a way you couldn’t take back. The space between you wasn’t just physical now- it was emotional, palpable.

And you didn’t know how to bridge that gap.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Minho

Minho had invited you over for dinner, and you’d been looking forward to it all week. Due to his busy schedule, you guys rarely hadf time to go on dates, so this is what made up for it.

His cooking was always top-notch, as if you were at a five-star restaurant, and you both usually spent hours enjoying each other’s company, laughing and talking about anything and everything. It showed you a different side of Minho every time you went over, the evenings always the kind of evenings that felt comfortable, familiar, and right. But tonight, it was different.

You hadn’t been in the best mood for the past few days. Between work, personal things, and the overwhelming lack of sleep, everything felt like too much. You could feel the stress weighing you down, settling in your chest, and despite the warm invitation, you couldn’t shake the sense of exhaustion that clung to you. The last thing you needed right now was Minho’s over-the-top pampering. You found yourself almost wishing he would be the quieter, more stoic Minho lots of people knew.

You sat at the kitchen counter, rubbing your temples, trying to ground yourself. The clink of glasses and the smell of food were all around you, yet it felt distant, like you couldn’t fully engage in the moment. Minho, ever attentive, seemed to notice and was quick to act.

“Here,” he said gently, handing you a glass of water with a soft smile. His hand falling to the small of your back. “You need to stay hydrated. Don’t forget, it’s important.” He placed a small kiss on your cheek.

You forced a small smile, trying to mask your frustration. “I know, Minho,” you muttered, taking the glass but not quite meeting his gaze. “You don’t have to remind me every five minutes.”

Minho blinked, clearly caught off guard by your tone. The usual lightheartedness between you both seemed to fade a little, and his face momentarily tightened, his eyes narrowing, just the slightest flicker of surprise crossing his features.

“I’m just making sure you’re okay,” he said, his voice softer now, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his words. “I care about you, and you seem agitated by something.”

His words were sincere, but for some reason, it only made your irritation grow. You had always appreciated how considerate Minho was with you specifically, how he’d go out of his way to make sure you felt good, but tonight, it was too much. You were so tired, mentally and physically, that even the smallest things felt like a weight you couldn’t carry. You just wanted to be left alone in your thoughts for a moment.

You exhaled sharply, frustration bubbling up as you tried to suppress it, but it was no use.

“Minho, seriously. Stop being so clingy,” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended. “I don’t need you to make sure I’m comfortable every five seconds,” you muttered, the exhaustion making you sound harsher than you wanted. The words hung in the air, like they were already too much as soon as they left your lips.

The room seemed to freeze for a moment. Minho’s expression faltered, his eyes widening slightly as though your words had physically hit him. For a second, you regretted it, but the irritation still burned inside you.

His face fell, his smile slipping away. You could see it clearly now- the hurt in his eyes, the way his shoulders tensed, as if your words had taken the air out of him.

Minho didn’t respond immediately, and you could see his gaze shift downward, his fingers gently toying with the edge of the countertop. There was a long silence, the kind that felt like a distant echo, hanging heavily between you both.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable,” he said, his voice quieter, almost unsure. The tone was different now- softer, more vulnerable than it had been moments before. "Guess you want to treat you just the same as everyone else." His tone was no sharp, his hurt masking itself with irritation.

Your chest tightened with guilt, but the irritation still lingered.

Now he's gonna act all petty?

You opened your mouth to say something, but the words didn’t come out as you intended.

For the rest of the night, something in the air shifted. The warmth that had once been there, the playful teasing and easy camaraderie, seemed to evaporate. Minho didn’t joke around with you like he usually did, no teasing smirk or lighthearted remarks. Instead, he was quiet, almost too quiet, as if trying to withdraw without saying a word. His eyes avoided yours, and when you spoke, he answered in soft, clipped sentences, with a bit of a bite, as if holding back the true amount of venom he wanted to use.

The energy in the room felt stifling, as though the conversation had drained all the life out of it. You could feel the tension rising with each passing minute, the unsaid words hanging heavily in the space between you. Even the food, which normally would’ve been a comfort, seemed bland and cold.

You noticed how he didn’t even sit next to you while you ate- he lingered at the stove, focusing a bit to much on his cleanup.

He didn’t ask if you were okay anymore. He didn’t try to comfort you, or joke about the ridiculousness and pettiness of this whole situation.

It stung, and you hated that it did. You wanted to take it back, wanted to apologize, but your vice of pride kept you rooted in your silence. You didn’t know how to say sorry, not when the frustration felt like it was still gnawing at you.

When Minho finally did sit at the table, he finished his meal quickly, his plate pushed away, and he stood up, clearing the table with quick mechanical movements. He seemed to go through the motions, as though nothing had changed, but you could feel the tension.

When Minho finally looked at you, his eyes were distant, but there was a subtle flicker of hurt that you hadn’t expected, something you couldn’t ignore, and it stung more than you realized. Something that showed you your words had cut him even more than you had thought.

“Thanks for dinner,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper, void of the usual warmth. Now, it was no longer laced with irritation, that feeling had long since morphed into an unease and anxious guilt.

He nodded, but it was a small, mechanical motion, his gaze still not quite meeting yours. “Anytime.” He glanced at his watch, then turned away, his tone colder than it had been all evening. “I have work to do. But you can show yourself out whenever you’re ready. Drive safe.”

Before you could respond, he made his way to his room, then stopped mid-step. You saw the brief hesitation in his posture before he turned back toward you. Without another word, he leaned in and kissed your temple- a quick, almost reflexive gesture. But it was different this time.

It lacked the usual warmth, the reassurance he always gave when parting ways. This kiss felt more like a habit than an act of affection, as though he couldn’t help it, even now, despite the tension in the air.

It was a gesture you’d become accustomed to over the months.

Minho’s little ritual of kissing your temple before leaving, like a small blessing or a reminder that he cared. It had always made you feel safe, loved, and cared for. But tonight, it only made your heart ache more, because you realized just how deeply he still cared for you, even in the aftermath of your words. Even in the face of your anger, he was still showing you love, silently.

And that’s when it hit you- he was still being the bigger person. You, on the other hand, let your frustrations cloud your judgment, never fully appreciating the ways Minho always took care of you.

He was trying, trying so hard to make sure you knew you were loved, going out of his usual love language comfort zones, and you had just pushed him away with your harshness.

The kiss lingered in the air long after he pulled away, the silence between you thick with unspoken emotions.

And just like that, the evening ended. The space between you felt suffocating now. Every breath you took felt heavier than the last, as guilt gnawed at you from the inside.

You couldn’t help but wonder if you could have handled it better, if you could have just let the frustration go instead of lashing out. But Minho didn’t seem to want to address that issue tonight. Not now. And the realization that you had left him feeling like that hurt more than anything.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Changbin

Changbin had always been energetic, especially when it came to hanging out with you. Whether it was spontaneous plans or meticulously planned-out evenings, he was the type to keep the energy high. But tonight, his energy felt more like an obligation- one that you didn’t ask for, but he seemed determined to push on you.

You didn’t want to ruin his mood, but you just weren’t in the right headspace for his relentless affection. It had been a long day, and you were struggling to keep up with the high spirits he was bringing. He practically showered you with snacks, offering things before you even knew you wanted them.

“Are you cold? I’ll get you a sweater.” “Do you need more chips? Wait, do you like these ones better?” “Should we pause the movie? Are you uncomfortable?”

It was sweet, really, but at the same time, you were starting to feel suffocated. You wanted to enjoy the movie, but you were also feeling the pressure of his constant presence, his constant attention. You just needed space- space to breathe without the constant checking in, without feeling like everything you did was being observed.

“Changbin,” you said, your voice more clipped than usual. “You’re being so clingy. Can you stop?”

The words left your mouth before you could fully process them, and as soon as you saw his face, you regretted it. His eyes, always so lively, lost their spark. His face fell, and for a moment, it felt like the entire room chilled. The warmth he usually exuded seemed to evaporate in an instant.

You couldn’t look away from the hurt in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, just stood up quickly, gathering the snack bags and tossing them into the trash without a word. You saw the back of his neck turn an extreme shade of crimson, inching its way up to the tips of his ears.

“Sorry, I’ll give you space,” he said flatly, his voice void of the usual playfulness.

You swallowed hard, trying to hold back the guilt that was already welling up in your chest. The words you had thrown out so carelessly weren’t just a reflection of your frustration- they had hit him, harder than you had intended.

You wanted to apologize, to fix it, but before you could, Changbin was already turning away, his focus shifting to his phone. He tapped away at it with far too much intensity, avoiding your gaze.

You thought about it then- his need to please, his constant effort to keep things light, was actually a way of overcompensating.

Changbin was trying to distract you from whatever it was that bothered you, from the things he knew were going on in your life. But tonight, all it did was make you feel like a burden. He didn’t want to face whatever was weighing on him, so he smothered you in attention. But all you wanted was to be left alone for a few minutes. But how was he supposed to know that when his affection was not only something you loved, but most of the time desperately craved.

As you glanced over at him, his shoulders were tense, and his fingers were working quickly on his phone. He hadn’t even seemed to notice that you had curled up against the couch, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. The movie was playing in the background, but neither of you were really watching it anymore.

The silence between you two thickened. Your own guilt was suffocating, but you couldn’t bring yourself to apologize, not yet. What was there to say? You had told him he was clingy, a word that no one ever wants to hear in a relationship.

It was a simple mistake, but it felt like something much worse.

As Changbin slipped off to the bathroom a while later, his movements were almost mechanical, as if he couldn’t stand to be around you for even a second longer. His absence left the room feeling cold. You pulled your phone out of your pocket to distract yourself, scrolling aimlessly, but something caught your eye. A text popped up on Changbin’s phone screen, and you leaned over to see it, a message from Hyunjin that made your stomach twist.

“Did you pop the question??!! Did Y/N say yes???!!”

The weight of the text hit you like a ton of bricks.

He had been planning to propose tonight.

He had been overcompensating, acting overly affectionate because he was nervous. He wanted everything to be perfect for you. He had been planning this all along, and here you were, pushing him away without realizing it.

A wave of guilt washed over you. You had been so wrapped up in your own stress that you had completely missed the signs.

When he returned from the bathroom, his face was flushed a deep shade of red. He avoided your gaze as he walked in, eyes glued to the floor, his shoulders hunched as though he were expecting some sort of confrontation. The atmosphere had changed, and you could feel it, like the air itself was thick with unspoken words.

“I…I’m sorry for being so clingy,” Changbin said quietly, his voice almost trembling. He lifted his eyes to meet yours, and you were struck by how vulnerable he looked, the way his face was tinged with embarrassment, and you swear his eyes were rimmed in a more irritated red, as if he had just come back from crying.

The confidence he usually exuded had dissolved, replaced by something far more raw.

The vulnerability in Changbin's voice made your chest tighten. His usual strength, the steady and confident energy he carried, seemed to crumble before you. His words hung in the air, heavy and full of meaning, yet your mind was spinning too fast to catch any of it.

“Changbin...” you began, but your throat felt dry. His eyes darted away from yours, as if holding your gaze was too much.

“I didn’t mean to overwhelm you,” he continued, his voice barely above a whisper, his words coming out even faster than he rapped. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, a rare display of nervousness that twisted the guilt in your stomach even further. “I just thought maybe I could...I don’t know, help, but I didn't take your feelings into consideration. I'm sorry. It was wrong and not what you needed. So I apologize.”

His voice cracked slightly on the last word, and it hit you like a blow to the chest. You wanted to tell him he had helped, that his presence was a comfort, even if you hadn’t seen it at the time. That he didn't need to apologize that you were the one who needed to apologize. But instead, the words stuck in your throat, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on you as you watched Changbin grabbing his things.

"Are you leaving?" Your heart leapt in your throat. “I’m sorry for snapping at you,” you managed, your voice softer now, almost pleading. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just...I’ve been so tired lately, and I wasn’t thinking-”

He nodded, but the gesture was slow, uncertain. His eyes flickered toward his phone on the coffee table for a moment, but then he quickly looked away. Pocketing it without a second glance. His lips pressed into a thin line, and you could see the effort it took for him to keep his composure.

“It’s fine,” he said finally, his voice flat in a way that didn’t sound like him. “You don’t have to explain.”

“But I want to explain,” you said quickly, stepping closer to him. “You didn’t deserve that. I just-”

Changbin shook his head, cutting you off. “It’s okay, really. I get it. Sometimes I can be...too much.” His laugh was bitter, a sound so unlike him that it made your heart ache. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but I guess I overstepped. My bad."

“You didn’t overstep,” you insisted, but your words felt hollow even to you.

You could see the way Changbin was retreating into himself, building walls where there had once been none. His usual openness, the way he wore his heart on his sleeve, was gone. In its place was a guarded version of him you had never seen before.

“I should go,” he said quietly, his voice devoid of its usual warmth.

“What?” you asked, your heart sinking. “Go? Changbin, wait-”

“It’s fine, Y/N.” he interrupted, forcing a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I think we both need some space.” His voice wavered and you could tell he was trying his best not to cry.

The words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, you couldn’t breathe. You wanted to argue, to tell him to stay, but the look in his eyes stopped you. He was hurt- really hurt- and no amount of apologizing in that moment would fix it.

“Bin...” you tried again, your voice breaking.

“I’ll call you tomorrow, jagiya.” he said quickly, not giving you a chance to respond. He turned toward the door, his movements stiff and deliberate, as though he were holding himself together with sheer willpower.

The sound of the door closing behind him was deafening.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hyunjin

Hyunjin had always been the most observant of anyone in your life. Which was one aspect that made you fall for him rather quickly. That and his passionate flair matched with unparalleled looks sparked a tender, fragile and deeply cinematic and irreplaceable type of love. He could read your moods with the kind of precision that sometimes felt like he could peer into your soul.

Tonight was no different.

He’d planned an afternoon at the art gallery, an activity you both loved for different reasons. His enthusiasm was infectious as he led you through the exhibits, explaining things with his usual passion. The way his eyes lit up as he spoke about the paintings, his voice filled with such excitement, usually made you feel lighter, but tonight, it all felt like too much. You wanted to enjoy it, but your mind was elsewhere. The weight of everything that had been building up- the stress of work, the tension with friends, an inexplicable loneliness creeping in- was clouding your thoughts.

You kept nodding and smiling politely, but your mind was racing, unable to focus on the beauty around you and next to you.

By the time you reached the café you always frequented afterwards, you felt drained, and Hyunjin’s constant attention started to feel a little too much.

And you couldn't help but feel a bit irritable at the fact that Hyunjin hadn't noticed that you wanted a bit of space.

He was supposed to notice everything wasn't he? You thought sarcastically to yourself.

He was offering to refill your drink every few minutes, asking if you needed more sugar, commenting on the way you "cute" you were holding your cup.

Yet every time he looked at you, it felt like he was trying to read you, trying to fix what was broken inside you when you didn’t even know how to explain what was wrong.

And he still somehow couldn't manage it...

“Hyunjin,” you finally said, setting your cup down with a frustrated sigh. “Can you just sit down for a minute and stop fretting over every little thing I do?” Your voice was sharper than you intended, and even as you said it, a twinge of guilt crept in.

His brow furrowed, and his smile faltered, the lightness in his demeanor vanishing as his eyes searched yours for any hint of what was wrong.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice soft but laced with concern, as if he could tell something was off but couldn’t quite pinpoint it.

You forced a small smile, hoping it would reassure him, but it felt empty even to you. “Yeah, I’m fine, I’m just... overwhelmed. Thought you would have noticed that by now,” you murmured, your words like an apology, even though they weren’t enough to explain the depth of what you were feeling.

He nodded but didn’t sit down in his own seat. Rather he continued to hover, shifting in the booth next to you, tapping his fingers on the table. The pressure of his presence- his concern, his need to keep checking on you- was starting to feel like an anchor, weighing you down when all you wanted was to float, to escape for just a moment.

"Hyunjin!" you snapped, unable to keep the frustration from your voice. You hated how you sounded, like a burden, but the words spilled out before you could stop them, "You’re being clingy! I thought I made that clear." You quipped, frustration bubbling up and over and out, directed at him.

His eyes widened, and for a moment, the color seemed to drain from his face. He didn’t speak at first, his mouth parting as if he was trying to find the right words. His gaze flickered to the side, and then he sighed quietly, the weight of the sigh making your heart sink. He licked his lip nervously.

“Okay,” he said, his voice small, almost defeated. He pushed his chair back gently and moved to sit across from you, but his posture was off- his shoulders slumped, his back stiff with a tension you hadn’t noticed before. His leg shaking up and down silently. The usual ease and warmth of his presence had shifted, replaced by something colder and anxious.

The rest of the evening was extremely strained. Hyunjin was quieter than usual, his focus elsewhere, barely making eye contact with you. Every time you tried to start a conversation, hoping to push past your miniature outburst, he seemed as if he was consciously avoiding you. He kept his gaze on his phone, fiddling with it absently, or staring off into the distance like he was waiting for something- anything- to change. His usual playful, admiration filled comments were gone, and in their place was a silence that made the air thickly discomforting.

You wanted to apologize, to explain yourself better, but something held you back. Maybe it was the fear that he wouldn’t understand, or maybe you were too embarrassed by how you had snapped at him in public of all places.

You couldn’t tell him how much you had been struggling, how every small thing was feeling too heavy to carry. You didn’t want him to worry about you, not like this, not when you couldn’t even explain it properly.

As you both finished your drinks, the silence between you felt too much to handle. His suffocating warmth and attention was gone, and you wished for that back rather than whatever the hell this was.

The energy between you had shifted so drastically that it felt like you were sitting next to a stranger.

When the bill came, Hyunjin stood up without a word, his movements quick. He paid, still not meeting your eyes. His fingers lingered on the edge of his wallet for a moment too long, like he was trying to force himself to do something, to act like everything was fine.

But the hesitation in his actions, the stiffness in his demeanor, told you everything. You had pushed him away, and now he was retreating behind a wall of his own.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said, but his voice lacked the usual warmth. It was polite, but you could hear the sadness behind it.

You nodded, but there was nothing else to say. The walk home was filled with nothing but the sound of your footsteps and the occasional shift of his feet beside you. The distance between you felt insurmountable now, even though you were so close to each other physically.

When you reached your door, you hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do. You wanted to say something- apologize, maybe- but Hyunjin was already backing away, his eyes avoiding yours.

“I’ll see you later,” he said, his voice quiet, and with that, he turned and walked away without looking back.

You stood there, staring after him, feeling the weight of your words settle heavily on your chest.

"What did I do." You mumbled to yourself, letting the door close behind you with a soft click, but the regret in your heart all but made up for that.

And as the night stretched on, you realized the tension between you wasn’t something that could be fixed easily. Hyunjin was hurting, and you had no idea how to fix it.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha

@iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric

@panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee

@shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin

@whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun

@ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael

@skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads

@jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld

@kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9

@minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @joyofbebbanburg

@leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon

@night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz

[gayboysteve]

I just genuinely have to respond to this and I'm going to apologize in advance because I am ultimately a bitch and I don't always know how to speak without being one.

This is just a fundamentally flawed reading of the canon because it genuinely goes against... canon? The lawn mowing is described as an olive branch from Rust after the locker room fight. In the script. By the show runner. By Matthew Mccoughghgh and Woody Harrelson. It is not a calculated move on Rust's part to get at Marty. It's literally described as him trying to be neighborly. To be part of the body.

We're not supposed to see Marty's reaction and think that he's correct in the assumptions that he's making. He even gets a kicked dog look once Rust is driving off, that same look he always gets after he makes a mistake and realizes it immediately after. Rust leaves as soon as he senses the tension because he DIDNT account for Marty's reaction. (Mind you at this point Marty also already knows about his dead child and how that was what caused him to get drunk before the family dinner.)

It's also just. An average normal truck. This is NOT a big fuck off truck and I can only assume you think it is because the op of the tags isn't American. They didn't even make those kinds of big fuck off trucks in the 90s and the man just moved from another state. Why shouldn't he own a truck?

I think the way you describe the situation with Geraci is. Not an inaccurate reading of the scene but it also doesn't feel like a complete reading. Is Rust establishing dominance? Yes! But it's also after Geraci has been sitting there openly talking shit about him/to him. It's not the same thing as just going up to the biggest guy and picking a fight. Rust is responding to a perceived weakness by the other men in the precinct, and that response is a display to show he's not weak and won't just accept it.

But he lives in spaces that are aggressively not just male but masculine. Is he too good and pure to never pick up some of that patina?

This in particular is part of what inspired me to respond and not just hold my tongue. There's some unintentional language here that's very unpleasant. Essentially, "is rust too good and pure to not participate in masculinity?" We don't need to condemn masculinity as a concept when we're discussing the toxicity of the masculinity displayed.

Which brings me to Crash. Crash shows his underbelly. Sure. But getting frisked is actually not just rolling over. I'm sure at least half the people back there had to be frisked. Crash only really shows his belly to GINGER. During the robbery he's giving orders to the other bikers the entire time until the shootout starts. Just because they aren't listening to him doesn't mean Crash isn't trying to control the situation. And Rust DOES show his underbelly and let himself get pushed around- specifically by both of the Hart's. On multiple occasions! Literally even! In this very gifset! He lets them drag him into situations he doesn't want to be a part of all the time.

Also- I'm not really sure what these tags are trying to say. They're kinda nonsensical. You speak of him having a different brand of machismo than Marty and then... list the behaviors that Marty displays. And mention he has a truck.

Rust absolutely does have his own brand of machismo but a lot of it is centered more around his belief women and children need to be protected from men, his self-isolation, and his refusal to deal with his issues healthily or productively. He is undeniably a masculine character despite his placement within the narrative affording him to also exist within some of the feminine tropes. But him mowing Marty's lawn, or even just picking at Marty's fragile masculinity, is not one of those instances. I also feel like there's an inherent linking of toxic masculinity to just... masculinity existing that isn't necessary and ultimately leaves a bad taste in my mouth.

Also citing a fanfiction when doing an analysis of the actual canonical facts placed in front of us is... well. That's sure not how critical analysis works as that is not canon or even supplementary canon material.

Edit to add: Laurie specifically states during dinner that she "denies him small arguments to build up his stamina" that's not a man always calculating and in control. He clearly let her push the trajectory of their relationship as lampshaded by that comment and the deleted scene.

RUSTIN COHLE

True Detective S01E03 "The Locked Room"

[wildwestdean]

wish list

summary: dean shares his christmas wish with you

pairing: dean winchester x female reader

word count: 845

warnings: fluff, mutual pining, confessions, idiots in love

a/n: a short and sweet piece for day one of the Promt-Mas 2024 event in our lovely supernatural writers community; prompt 1 'all i want for christmas'

“What do you want for Christmas?” you asked, phone cradled to your ear. 

It was a simple question, one that had been asked many times before, yet it still made Dean stop in his tracks as he hesitated over his answer. 

“And don’t say pie,” you added playfully, pulling a chuckle from his lips. 

“Well, I can’t answer your question then, sweetheart,” he teased. 

“Oh, c’mon!” you groaned. “There has to be something you want.” 

Dean sighed, kicking his feet up on the table in the war room as he leaned back in his chair. He’s starting to feel like he never leaves this spot, sitting here like a sad puppy waiting for you to walk through the bunker door ever since you left two weeks ago, eager to help Jody and Donna work a case; a case that ended in the three of you taking a girls trip to some retreat in the mountains. 

He wanted you to come home. 

“Dean?” you called softly, pulling him from his thoughts when he took longer than usual to answer. 

“I don’t want anything,” he lied, shrugging his shoulders despite the fact you couldn’t see him. 

“Liar,” you laughed, easily picking up on his fib.

He couldn’t help but smile, the fuzzy feeling settling in his stomach once more at the realization of how well you know him. 

“What do you want?” he asked, hoping to flip the spotlight onto you. 

“Nuh-uh,” you tsked. “You’re not getting out of this so easily, Winchester.” 

“You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?” he joked, voice laced with laughter. 

“I can be even worse!” you threatened with a laugh. “What if I guess? Will you tell me if I guess it?” 

“Sure, why not?” he agreed, mainly because he knew you’d never get it right. 

He listened with a grin as you rambled on, listing every possible thing that came to your mind for what he may want. Some were things that he himself didn’t even know he wanted, and while he did admit to them being good ideas, he remained adamant they weren’t his main wish; yet still refused to give an inch as to what that may be. 

“Would you stop being so stubborn?” you huffed in exasperation, knowing you should admit defeat but not wanting to; you were just as stubborn as him when it came down to it. 

“Why is it so important to you?” he asked with a laugh, finding your irritation over the situation rather endearing. 

“Because you’re important to me,” you told him. “I don’t want to get you just anything and call it a day. Yeah, I have some things for you already, but I want you to have something that’ll make you truly happy. Something special, y’know?” 

Dean fell silent after your explanation, your words bouncing around in his head as he tried to think of what to say, as he wondered how best to tell you. 

“Are you embarrassed to tell me or something? Because you should know by now that I’d never-” 

“Come home,” he said quietly, cutting off your speech. 

“Stop trying to change the subject,” you chuckled, not understanding what he was telling you. 

“No, I-” he started, taking a shaky breath. “That- that’s what I want.” 

“You… want me to come home?” you questioned, clearly confused. 

“I want you,” he admitted, his heart hammering against his ribcage so fiercely he wondered if you could hear it.

You fell so silent on the other end that he actually had to pull the phone away to make sure the call was still connected.

“Me?” you finally asked, voice barely above a whisper. 

“You,” he confirmed, chuckling nervously. “You’re what makes me happy, sweet girl. Hell, there was a point that I thought I’d never be truly happy again… and then one day, you showed up. There’s nothing that’ll be more special to me than you, sweetheart."

“So… what you’re saying is that I don’t need to spend money on you this year?” you asked playfully, trying to cover up your nerves with a joke. 

He let out a laugh, feeling some of his nerves starting to settle. “I’m saying all I want for Christmas is you.” 

“Only for Christmas, though, right?” you wondered, and Dean could just about hear the grin you wore. 

“Well,” Dean said contemplatively. “I was thinking I might keep you for, say… rest of our lives?” 

“Are you seriously confessing your love with a phone call?” you asked with a giggle, feeling giddy beyond belief. 

“No,” he said casually. “I’ll wait until you’re finally home to really say those words.” 

“Oh, okay,” you replied in understanding. “Well, guess it’s a good thing I’m home, then.”

Before he could respond, the bunker door screeched open as you finally stepped inside, and he quickly met your gaze as you grinned down at him from the railing. He matched your grin, standing from the chair as he ended the call. 

“Well,” you called down to him, laughing with glee. “Don’t you have a confession to make?” 

taglist: @roseblue373, @redmaro86, @snowayumi, @iluvdeanwinchester, @winharry, @star-yawnznn, @jc-winchester

if you'd like to be added or removed from this list, please let me know!

[gilbertscurls]

glimpse of us ➵ matt sturniolo

summary: caught between hesitation and hope, you listen as matt paints a vivid picture of the love you could share—if only you were ready to take the leap.

He could see the war going on inside you, your conflicted emotions written all over your face. He knew you liked him, maybe even loved him, but that you were too scared to take that final step, to make your relationship official.

He hated seeing you so unsure, and he wished he could just reach inside you and pull out all your doubts and insecurities, to make you see how perfect you could be together.

“Y'know,” he said, his voice easy and relaxed, “if we were dating, I'd probably cook you breakfast every morning. Pancakes, eggs, whatever you wanted. And I'd make sure your coffee was always how you liked it, all frothy and warm.”

He chuckled and shrugged, like he was just casually bringing up a random topic. “And I'd probably leave dumb little notes all over the place for you to find, just… reminding you how much I care about you.”

“I'd also get you flowers. Not just on special occasions, but just… out of the blue, to tell you I was thinking about you. I'd probably buy you teddy bears too, or cute little stuffed animals that I'd leave on the bed so you can hug them when I'm not around.”

He spoke softly, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your hip bone. “And I'd definitely text you dumb memes and funny videos that I know would make you laugh. But only after I'd call you in the morning to wish you a good day.”

“And I'd take you on dates, like real dates. Not just to your favorite coffee shop, but to nice restaurants and… oh, I'd take you to the theater. I know how much you love musicals, and I'd even sit through the entire thing without complaining, even if I'm bored out of my mind.”

He chuckled and shook his head, like he was imagining the scenario. “And I'd hold your hand the whole time, and buy you expensive popcorn, and probably make out with you during the boring parts.”

“And I'd make sure you were taken care of,” he said, his voice growing serious. “I'd make sure you had everything you needed, and everything you wanted. And if you ever had a bad day, or something was bothering you, I'd listen. I'd hold you, and I'd tell you it was alright, because that's what boyfriends are supposed to do.”

He looked away for a moment, as if lost in thought, before turning back to you. “But I suppose that's all irrelevant because, well... we're not dating.”

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike

[coc0amocha]

🔞 Hate sex || 'Fuck you...Literally.'

you two always argue over random shit..And do random shit while you argue. Like fucking for example ~~requested

College Au - Roomate Sukuna

Word count: 620

★Fem reader - unprotected sex - rough sex - ewb(Enemies with benefits) - degrading★

You never got along with your roommate, Sukuna. Not once. Even on the first day, you two met each other he seemed to already despise you despite not even knowing your name. And you tried to make amends with him on multiple occasions because living with someone you hate and that hates you wasn't exactly on your bucket list.. But your attempts were futile as he didn't even want to try to like you. He hardly knew you but he knew he hated you. And that's all he needed to know.

And you started resenting him too. It got to a point where if one of you breathed too loud the other would get pissed off and a fight would start. Whether it was physical or verbal something would happen and it wasn't pretty. And it's like Sukuna thrived on getting under your skin and provoking you until you laid a hand on him, it's like he was entertained by it...or something more.

The only thing you seemed to like about him was the way he fucked you, and the only thing he liked about you is how you felt when you clenched and came around him. And you two would argue while fucking which is the bad part. You'd mutter breathy curses at him as he fucked you like he was trying to hurt you.

Ff-fuck y-ou–" you exhaled weakly as he pounded into you recklessly, he didn't care if it hurt because he was 'fucking the attitude out of you' as he called it

He scoffed "Nghnn..Still tryna–hnn–argue w'me, huh??" He punctuated his words with a sharp snap of his hips. Watching you writhe and whine beneath him your walls clenching around him "You feel so good darlin' mmnhmm.. it's a shame you're such a brat" He thrust particularly hard causing you to let out a sharp 'ohh!' As your back bowed off the bed and up towards him, he smirked and gripped your waist "Maybe I should put you in your place like this more often"

"Y-you're n-n–ot-" You were cut off by another sharp thrust, your hips jerking involuntarily "Unngh–ffuuckk youu.." despite your constant protests and curses directed at him you sort of liked the treatment despite the fact your inner walls might come out bruised by the end of this "Y-you're not–mmhn!–succeeding.." You muttered weakly, clawing at his shoulders hard. Leaving red lines on his skin as your nails scraped across it

"You sure? 'Cause from the way you're moaning and whining like a bitch I think I am. And by the time I cum inside this pretty pussy of yours I think your attitude will be officially gone." He quirked his lips up into a smirk, his hips stuttering in its motion

"I'm very sure, asshole... You're the one that can't handle me. That's why you're about to finish so qui–" another sharp thrust. "Unnnhh..I hope you hurt yourself."

"You're the one getting hurt, and it's all because of that mouth of yours." He retorted

"Immm..I'm not getting hu-hurt."

"Sounds like it." He raised an eyebrow

"No the fuck it doesn't" you snapped back at him

His heavy breathing turned into pants as his thrusts stuttered further "Just shut the fuck up and take it already" He bit down on his lip hard as he listened to you gasp sharply when his cock pulsed inside you, shooting hot ropes of cum deep inside "ffuuckk.." He groaned as he emptied himself into you like you were a disposal

"You fuckin' minute man." You teased, rolling your eyes

He glared at you as he pulled his softening cock out "That was not less than a minute. Can you tell time??"

"Whatever, Sukuna." You huffed

[porkcutletbowl44]

The Man You Need

Simon Ghost Riley x F!Reader

Tags!: 🔞NSFW. MDNI. unprotected p in v sex(wrap it in foil before you check her oil), dirty talk, creampie, PWP, Insomnia!reader, brief mention of misogyny, semi-public sex, shower sex, reader is also kinda bratty

(Ik y'all are only here for the porn that's why the plot dies quick lmao)

A big thank you to the 200 followers and counting 🫶🏻🩷

• · ────── ·🔞🖤🔞· ────── · •

"Y'look knackered, 'aven't been sleepin' enough?"

Simon's voice forces you to stop staring at the stale scones under the heat lamp, yanking you out of that day dream of falling face first into the breakfast line to get real sleep.

"Just the usual insomnia," you reminded. "What plans do you have today?" You asked, gatherthering the last of your breakfast.

His long strides effortlessly keeping up with your shorter ones. He towers over you as you both approach the table where you both sat normally.

"Just the usual, trainin' new recruits." He answers in the same manner as you, he sits down opposite you. He stretches his long legs out under the table, his calves brushing yours.

His eyes fixed on you like little bugs on your skin, taking in every detail of your face.

"'ow long has it been since y'last slept through a night?" He asks gruffly.

"Saturday." You answered.

His jaw clenches momentarily behind the thin fabric of his balaclava, and his shoulders stiffen.

"Y'mean to tell me its been three days an' you're still functioning?" He retorts, skepticism written on his face. He knows you, and he knows how bad your insomnia gets.

"Yeah. Doesn't help when we have to wake up early."

Ghost lets out a frustrated sigh, running a gloved hand over his face.

"You can't survive on 2 or 3 hours o' sleep a day. Y'know you're pushin' it too far. You're going to collapse soon if y'don't get your sleep under control."

He's always stern when he speaks, but with you it's like he's scolding you like a child who doesn't know any better.

You do know better; you've busted your ass to get where you are. You've had to deal with everything in the book to fight to where you are now in the military, and he knows that, he's been there the majority of the time and yet he nags you everyday about something.

"Well I'm trying, Si. Melatonin doesn't work and it gives me bad headaches." You mumbled irritably.

"Doesn't work, eh? An' I can see those bags under your eyes. Headaches too..." He rubs his chin as he looks at you, his eyes calculating. "What 'ave you tried so far, love? I've told you to keep me updated."

"The sleepy tea worked for a little bit, and then it didn't. I tried running before bed, no screen time, benadryl..."

Simon grunts and leans back in his chair, listening to you list all the things you've already tried and don't work, his frustration only seems to grow with this situation— or you?

"Bloody hell. You've tried everythin', 'aven't you? Nothin' seems to work, it's as if your body just won't shut down."

Sometimes this leads to the same thing over and over again, the 'you have to sleep' or, 'why do you do this to yourself?'. You just smile and nod, because yes, you can 100% control this.

"Well, sometimes another thing works, but it's just too much of a hassle." You shrugged, sipping some vitamin water.

Simon's brows furrow as he hears your muttered words. He leans forward, his gaze intense.

"What 'other things?'"

You sometimes keep things from him, and he won't let you get away with it this time. Or, there's the other times you are blunt, disgustingly blunt. You live with a bunch of men, who do not have a filter, that alone has killed yours out of existence.

You blink, fidgeting in place. "Ahem. Me time?"

He's not dense, he knows exactly what you mean and he's not one to back down from anything that usually makes normal people squeamish or "grossed out".

"An" 'ow is it 'too much o' a hassle exactly?" He asks, a slight raise in an eyebrow.

"My hand cramps." You rolled your eyes, it was obvious, who doesn't have that problem sometimes?

He crosses his arms over his broad chest with a humored look, your honesty can be either amusing or completely looked over.

"Your hand cramps, you say? Thas a hell o' a reason."

He chuckles softly, his eyes raking over you, taking in the sight before him. His gaze is heated. Your face can feel it, it's warm, it's like he's putting your face close to a bonfire with that look. For months you two do this... This thing that borders flirty and suggestive but at the same time it doesn't quite feel like either.

"Yeah. Thinking about going down to the store."

His eyes snap up, crossed arms going lose from his chest. He's not stupid; he knows what "going down to the store" means.

"You're talkin' about goin' to get one o' those things." His voice is low, but not quite harsh. He's almost hesitant to say it out loud, but he says it with so much disdain.

You deadpan. "A vibrator, Simon. A vibrator."

The tops of his cheeks flush red beneath his balaclava at your blunt response. You giggle a little, not expecting such a reaction from Lieutenant Ghost. What's the big deal? Did guys not talk about fleshlights? Brand recommendations?

He clears his throat before speaking, a little husky and quiet. No way, are you embarrassing him with girl stuff?

"Y-yeah. One o' those." He stutters, his usual confidence wavering. "Yes, thank you, love. I realize that. I just..." He trailed off, blinking a few times.

"Y'can't be serious. You're goin' to use a toy instead o' asking for help?"

It's like he can't believe you just said that out loud, in a busy mess hall no less. This is what it took? Talking about sex toys to make him awkward?

"Uhm...yeah? I less you have a boyfriend in your pocket waiting for me." you retort.

And yikes, he didn't seem to like that. His eyes squint, probably crinkle in his nose. He paused, leaning forward in his seat, his eyes studying your face closely.

"You don't seriously think y'need a toy instead o' just asking me, do you?"

Why does he sound hurt??

Your stomach does a backflip off your intestines and into a hot tub of oil. He did not just say that. You must be asleep, yes, you must be dreaming.

You giggled, "Good one."

Simon gives a low grumble, his jaw flexing and grinding. This apparently wasn't a laughing matter to him. Is he serious? Your tongue works over your teeth, trying your absolute hardest to be so cool, nonchalant, you don't care you don't care—

"'M not jokin', love. You don't honestly think that a toy would be better than the real thing, do you?"

Of course it's not fucking better. But what choices did you have? Sleep with one of your teammates and then get a dishonorable discharge? Make things awkward in your team?

"Oh... Considering it's illegal to have relationships, yes. A vibrator won't leave me, cheat on me, break my heart... It's perfect." You shrugged— it was for the best anyways.

He knew the rules just as much as you did. And he followed them religiously. What the hell is going on? Why would he just suggest that out of the blue?

"Y'think you'd be better off with a piece o' silicone than takin' the chance on me?"

You pinch your thigh under the table. Nope. You're still here in mess hall, in front of your now cold breakfast, and Simon is still trying to convince you to fuck him.

"Y'wouldn't be satisfied with that thing. You'd get bored, love..." He sounds so sure, and jealous when he speaks of the horrible, terrible, vibrator.

"How would you know?" You quired quickly.

Just to double check. Maybe the sleep deprivation was catching up.

"I know 'cause I know you. You'd get tired o' that thing eventually, you'd want somethin' real."

He paused for a moment, his eyes lidding, darkening, consuming.

"You'd want someone to touch you, love. Not some piece o' plastic an' silicone."

"Yeah, like I'd ever get that," you barked out a laugh out of sheer nerves.

He didn't like that anymore than your last dismissive reply, you may just be convinced about now. So, cue to you squeezing your thighs together in your seat. Acting completely normal. Because everything about this is so normal; your coworker just telling you to come to him for a good fuck to be able to sleep.

"What do y'mean by that? 'ow can you say that with a straight face? Y'don't think anyone would want to touch you? Let y'know 'ow loved you are?" He grumbled, his hands clenching on top of the table.

"Y'think you're so undesirable that nobody would want you? Bloody hell..." He shakes his head.

"Simon, take a look at me." You licked your lips to prevent a shout of frustration, yikes, you do need sleep.

Simon's eyes fly over your form, from head to toe. He took his time studying you, his eyes lingering over the curves of your body, the way your hair fell over your face. There isn't a damn thing wrong with the way you look.

"'M lookin' at ya, love. An' what I see is perfection. So tell me again... what's your damn point?"

Oh, good God. It's real. But this is better than you imagined; you want to make him work for it. All because it's hotter to get a man to work for something, get all riled up.

"What do you see? A cutesy little girly girl? A nice little housewife for a big strong man?" You asked sarcastically.

"I see a woman who's strong, capable, an' bloody beautiful." He glares, offended you'd even think about saying that, "You're not some dainty damsel in distress, you're a force to be reckoned with..."

"My point exactly. Men don't want a chick that's more man than them." You rolled your eyes at just mentioning the delicacy of fragile masculinity these days.

Simon grunted and rolled his eyes, his irritation building into something you might not want to poke at.

"Thas where you're wrong, love." He points his spoon at you. "Not all men are as narrow-minded as y'think. I know damn well I want a woman like you. Strong, feisty, sexy."

"My point, Simon! I don't want some fucking pussy, I want someone whose more man than me." You huff.

You're not entirely implying this trait about him... You just wanna see him work for it.

"You're not goin' to find that in a bloody toy, love. You're lookin' in the wrong place if y'think some plastic will make y'feel better. Y'want a man? You already 'ave a man."

He was right there, willing to give you what you needed. But how far will he go?

"Yeah but... I want something real, too." You tried to explain.

This flirting back and forth was something you enjoyed; but what would it mean in the long run?

"Exactly." He huffed a bit exasperated. "Y'want somethin' real. Somethin' I can give you."

He shifted in his seat, leaning closer to you, his eyes deep and intense.

"Y'don't need a toy, love. You 'ave me. 'M real, an' I want you. Don't settle for some piece o' plastic when y'know damn well what you really want."

Okay then, schizophrenic, game on.

"I want someone stronger than me, someone to give me a reason to act like a woman," You snorted.

You were infuriating at times.

"An' y'think I can't give ya that? Y'think I can't make y'feel like a woman? Like a fuckin' queen?" That retort comes out low, accusing. "I can definitely make y'feel like a woman. Y'don't need someone stronger than you, love. Y'just need me."

Nail on the head with that one; yet how far can you take it? You lean between your elbows, squeezing your tits together to make you look as enticing as possible.

"Do I?" You purr.

Simon freezes in time, his plastic spoon almost falling away from his thick fingers. His hand does scramble for it to his credit but he almost dumps his bowl in the process. You hear him clear his throat roughly, Adams apple bobbing at the hem of his mask before it disappears. You bite your lip with a challenging gaze, would he take it?

"Yes," He replied firmly to cover up his hesitation, "Y'need me, love. Y'just don't know it yet. I can make y'feel things no toy ever could. Think y'need a man t'make you feel like a woman? I can do that, an' I will happily."

You smirk, "You're gonna have to try harder than that,"

"Oh, I will, love. You're just askin' for a challenge, aren't you?"

"You afraid to take it?" You shot back slyly.

He was anything but afraid with that look. He was up for the challenge, and you know he's gonna prove it.

"Baby, 'm not afraid o' anythin' when it comes to you," he replied, his voice low and husky. "As long as you can take what I can give you."

He leaned forward in his seat, his eyes searing into yours. There was danger in his gaze, it only made it all the more delicious.

"Y'think you can 'andle me, love? Y'think you're ready for what I can do t'you?"

"Only if you can prove it." You grin.

Ghost let out a low growl, his eyes darkening at your challenging tone. He thrived on it, it only fueling his drive to prove himself to you.

"Oh, I'll prove it, love. I'll prove it again an' again until y'can't even think straight."

"No, no, prove you're more man than me." You corrected easily.

"Y'want to know why 'm more o' a man than you? I can make y'feel things you 'aven't even imagined before. I'll 'ave you beggin' f'me, addicted t'me."

"I'll be waiting, then." You set the challenge in stone. This was it.

The bear has been poked enough. He was on a mission now.

"You'll be beggin' f'me before the night's over." He boasts smoothly, a promise and a warning all in one.

"If I get a good night's sleep I'll consider keeping you,"

You were maddening, and he both loved and hated the way you pushed his buttons. It was all in good heart; for the most part.

"You're already keepin' me, love. Y'just don't know it yet."

You bite your lip, taking a quick survey of the area before replying. This was getting too good to be true.

"Don't disappoint then, we have..." You glance at your watch, humming, "six hours until lights out."

"Thas more than enough time." He grunts, all smug and cocky behind his mask.

Step one, getting recruit work out of the way. It's boring as fuck, mostly watching the Lieutenant scare the absolute piss out of the fresh meat.

Simon was barking orders left and right, ruthless to the soldiers in training. Almost as ruthless as the sun beating down on them.

You abandoned your spot in the shade, clip board in hand. You balance two water bottles on the wooden board as you approach to offer a beverage.

"Thanks," he grumbles, his eyes darting around to ensure no one witnessed the small gesture just like you.

He took the offered water, downing half the bottle in one go and adjusting his mask back in place. You drag your pin down the clip board to check off what's already done.

"Forty laps?"

"Forty laps."

Simon confirmed with a gruff nod, his gaze lingering on yours for a moment before turning back to the recruits. Despite the challenging heat, he refused to end the training drills early no matter how much you teased him about buying him a little extra on your toy run— Viagra.

You thought it was hilarious, him? Not so much.

"An' they better pick up the pace!" He barked, the deep baritone easily reaching the pirvates' ears.

You circle that box, "And the sixty pull ups?" You breathed a bored sigh.

Simon grunted in annoyance.

"Done."

He informed in a low grumble, his jaw working under the balaclava. It was an excessive amount, but many of the recruits wouldn't even make it halfway through. But he didn't care, he was in a mood. A horny one. When was the last time this guy got laid?

"Wasn't accepting any half-assed attempts, either."

"The rope climbing?" You tap your pen at the box.

Simon glances down at the list, eyeing the scribbles and doodles next to the ticked boxes.

"Done." He replies simply.

You could faintly hear the sound of the recruits groaning and grumbling in pain and exhaustion, you almost felt bad. It was minor flashbacks to your recruitment days, yet Simon didn't seem to have that same sympathy judging by the satisfaction in his eyes.

"Aaannnd... Combat." You hum, one last task left for training.

This was where things get interesting.

"Its last. Need to let 'em rest a bit first. Suppose they earned it."

"Generous," you comment blandly.

"Yeah, yeah. Just keep checkin' off the list. I wanna get these fuckin' recruits dismissed soon. 'M sick o' the heat."

The day dragged on painfully slowly. The heat was relentless until the rain would show up any minute, and he was more irritable than usual. Even the recruits seemed to notice his foul mood, giving him a wide berth whenever he was in their vicinity. You were starting to grow bored of his usual job of scaring the hell out of the recruits, (not so bored when sweat rolls down the thickness of his biceps and the bounce of his tits when he jogs up to the trainees to yell at them) and overall wondering when and how the fuck you're supposed to get laid at this point.

Finally, the training was over. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the compound. The recruits limped and hobbled their way to their assigned lodgings, exhausted and sore.

Simon, on the other hand, seemed like he had even more energy than usual. Despite the long, grueling day, he was somehow wired and restless. You should ask what energy drink he uses after you wrap this up. (Hint: it's the male drive to get some pussy).

As the recruits dispersed, one in particular caught your eye. He was the most arrogant and obnoxious of the bunch, strutting around like he owned the place. You and Simon had seen it countless times before, it got old fast.

"Arrogant little prick," Simon muttered irritably.

You tongue your cheek, "What? Threatened by him?"

It's a pointless taunt— Simon? Threatened? Gosh, it's so fun to get men worked up. Simon's eyes narrow at your comment, a grunt bursting out from him.

"Threatened? Me? Fuckin' hell, no." He grumbles offendedly. "I could take 'im apart within a minute. Can't stand the ones caught up in their own 'ead,"

You hum in agreement. You know for a fact you'd pay to see that one day, and Soap would be right behind you.

"You're lucky you're the most tolerable person 'ere," he adds goodnaturedly.

You backhand his shoulder lightly, "Oh, look, your best friend is coming over!"

And speak of the devil, the recruit struts over with that piece of shit arrogant smirk. Simon rolls his eyes in annoyance as he turns to face the strutting recruit.

"Great. Just what I need," The sarcasm is laid on thicker than the suspicious gravy served this morning at breakfast.

The recruit saunters over, his obnoxious confidence on full display. Simon clenches his jaw, trying to keep his temper in check.

"Sir... Do we have more extensive training available?" He asks slowly, his own ego taking a hold of his tongue.

Simon's eye twitches at the recruit's pompous tone. Extensive training, more like a request for special treatment to feed that ego.

"Extensive training?" He echos roughly, "F'you? Why?"

The recruit shrugs boredly, "I think your ways are a bit old fashioned, too easy,"

Easy, old fashioned? This cocky little bastard doesn't know the first thing about hard work. And he's about to serve himself his very own buffet of living hell from Simon. You distract yourself with the grass below your feet, taking everything you have to not laugh.

"Y'think we make things easy on you?" He sneers, taking a step closer to the recruit. "Y'think you're hot stuff, eh? Well, you're in for a rude awakening, rookie."

Your lips purse, frowning deeply to stop the smile.

"What makes y'think you deserve anythin' beyond the standard training regime, hmm? You 'aven't earned a fuckin' thing yet." He glares at the recruit, his eyes dark and intense behind his mask. "Y'get your fuckin' arse to the barracks. Your extensive training for the next month? You'll be cleanin' the bathrooms before lights out."

The recruit's smirk falters at Simon's orders. He's not used to being talked back to, much less being told what to do. But he tries to maintain his cocky attitude, not wanting to back down in front of you, maybe. Ugh, men.

"Bathroom duty? That's... a little degrading, isn't it?"

Simon chuckles darkly, his eyes dancing with amusement. This cocky bastard was really pushing his luck more than you were. You almost feel bad if it weren't so funny.

"Degrading?" he sneers. "Welcome to the military, rookie. It's not a goddamn country club. Y'think you can come 'ere, demand extra training, an' expect special treatment? This ain't a playground. You're 'ere to learn discipline, not stroke your ego."

You stifle a laugh behind your clipboard. This was too good, and all the more hot to see Simon angry.

Simon shoots a sidelong glance at you, even though he's supposed to be acting tough and intimidating, he seems to let himself crack through the lieutenant role around you.

The recruit, on the other hand, doesn't notice your amusement. He just looks sulkily at Simon, clearly not pleased with the prospect of bathroom duty.

Simon grabs the recruit roughly by the collar, the display of power and dominance making you jump in place. Simon's firm grip on the recruit's collar startles the cocky little punk, his eyes wide in surprise.

"See, this is your problem," Simon grits lowly. "Y'think you're untouchable. Y'think you're better than everyone else. But lemme tell you somethin', wanker... you're not."

The recruit stammers, eyes frozen with fear.

"Disobey your superior officer again an' I'll make sure your walls are covered in you."

He gives the recruit a rough shove, releasing his collar. The recruit stumbles back, shocked out of words.

"Consider that your final warning," Simon growls. "Now get your arse to the fuckin' barracks, rookie."

The recruit seems to shrink under Simon's intimidating aura, his cocky demeanor shattered and squashed to dust. He mumbles a half-hearted, "Yes, sir," before hurrying away.

You check your watch, "Well, today has been fun. It's too bad you only have three hours left."

Three hours left, you say? He hadn't even started yet. Because of training, of course.

"Three hours, huh?" He grumbles, eyes setting in determination. "Don't count me out yet, love. I can do a lot in three hours."

"Hurry it up, or in three hours I'll have a brand new shiny vibrator." You grin cheekily.

"You won't be needin' any damn vibrator if I 'ave anythin' to say 'bout it," he hisses. "I don't need any bloody gadgets to 'elp out."

He starts to stalk towards you, his eyes intense and focused. Your thighs squeeze together, pleased with your outcome.

"Three hours is more than enough time f'me to prove myself, love. An' you'll be beggin' before the clock strikes, guarantee ya that."

"Right," you drawl with a roll of your eyes.

He reaches up with a rough hand, grabbing your chin and lifting it so your eyes meet his.

"Y'think I can't prove myself in three hours, huh? That I need some bloody toy to 'elp me out? I promise you, love, you'll be singin' a different tune."

You giggle teasingly, biting your tongue through your smile.

"Tick tock, Simon." You singsong.

You were mocking him, challenging him, all for this purpose.

"You're playin' a dangerous game, love," he growls down at you, "Y'think you can tease an' walk away with that pretty lil smile on your face. But you're gonna find out real quick that I won't back down, even when you're being a cheeky lil minx."

You smirk dreamily, staring up at him with raw want. You kinda want him to do something extravagant, proving himself just because. When was the last time you had fun like this?

"You're pushing your luck, love," he grunts, his voice gruff with barely concealed desire. "If you keep lookin' at me like that, there ain't gonna be enough time to do everythin' I wanna do to you."

You pull from his hand, turning on your heel as you call over your shoulder,

"I'll be waiting, Si,"

You were taunting him, teasing him, with that sultry little comment and casual tone. You feel his eyes on your ass with each sway of your hips, that naked feeling let's you know he's undressing you with his eyes.

You whip out your phone to look at the time, alas, there's just no way what you want can happen. The rules, regulations, and the severe lack in privacy.

Shooting Captain a quick text for permission to leave base for an hour you head into the higher up showers for some much needed washing of the sweat collected on your body.

As you toss your towel on the bend, your phone buzzes.

'Permission granted. I'll let the team know you'll be out.'

Your heart drops to your ass as you frantically text back—

'Wait no that's not necessary!!!!!'

And then, to your horror, you get a ping in the group text.

Shit.

The team knows youre just going out, but Simon knows. Simon knows you're chickening out from the challenge.

"Fuck!" You hiss, frantically looking around the showers as if there were anything that could help you.

There's nothing. Not the gathered pubes in the moldy shower drain nobody uses, not the faded rusting lockers, not the dirty windows that nobody will ever be able to see out of no matter how much scrubbing

You're fucked.

But how fucked, do we wager? Does this mean Simon will get in his feelings and never talk to you again? Will he out you? (No, it wouldn't ever—) What if he gets revenge?... What kind of revenge?

As you stand there, panic setting in, a voice rings out from the entrance of the shower area.

"What 'appened to three hours?"

You squeak as the door slams, the deadbolt echoing through the room.

You are locked in the showers with Simon.

"What's with the sudden cold feet?" Simon grunts as he rounds the corner, closing the distance between you in slow, measured strides.

"I-I can explain—" you stammer, phone dropping on the bench next to your towel.

He stalks towards you, his steps slow and deliberate. There's a dangerous edge to his gaze that makes your heart beat even faster in your chest.

You're trapped, unable to back away, and he looms over you like a caged beast.

"Explain why you're runnin' away from the challenge you issued, love?" he drawls, stopping just a few feet away from you. "This I 'ave to 'ear."

He crosses his arms as he stands there, his eyes never leaving your face. You're in for it now, his expression seems to say.

You chuckle nervously, gesturing between the two of you, "I mean, realistically it can't ever happen—"

"Who says it can't?" He leans in, his voice dropping to a low, rough growl. "I don't care 'bout the damn regulations, love. That's not gonna stop me from 'aving you."

"Y-You are all about the rules, Si. You follow them to a T— You wouldnt—" you swallow thickly. What have you done to yourself this time.

"I usually follow the rules, yes," he concedes tauntingly, "An' right now, those rules are fuck all to me anymore."

Your tongue suddenly feels heavy in your mouth, "W-What about—"

Simon leans a forearm over your head and slouches down, his eyes darkened by lust and determination.

"What 'bout...?" he mocks, "Y'think I give a damn 'bout those old geezers with their rules right now? All I care 'bout is 'aving you, 'ere an' now."

Simon's free hand reaches up, his fingers lightly tracing your jawline. "I'll show you 'm fuckin' man enough to 'ave you."

While you are speechless, he adds for you to better understand. "It's just you an' me in 'ere."

"But—" you squeak.

Simon's hand moves quick to cup your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"No," he growls, "We don't need to follow the rules in 'ere. We don't need anyone's permission. We could be loud, we could be rough. No one would ever know."

No one... Would know.

He leans in, his lips hovering just centimeters from your ear. "Just us in 'ere. You tellin' me you'd rather 'ave some stupid fuckin' toy over a man that can fill you up all night long?" His hand slides down to your throat, holding you tenderly but firmly, "Just say yes, love."

You whimper in delight, his eyes flickering down to your shifting thighs.

"Yeah," he purrs, his hand angling your head up against the wall. "Y'know you want it. Y'want me."

You want him more than sleep. You want him more than some real fucking food.

"Y'know you don't need anythin' else but me t' fuck you stupid."

"Yes," you moan.

Simon's eyes gleam with approval, his grip on your chin tightens slightly.

"That's good fuckin' girl," he growls.

He licks your neck through the mask, chest expanding with a deep inhale that crushes you to the wall.

"Say y'want me," he demands in a gravelly whisper.

What is thinking? Why would you have to think?

"Want you s'bad," you whine.

"Fuckin' right you do," he mutters.

His other hand drifts down, slowly tracing down your body until it lands on your waist, shoving you into the shower stall. For a moment, you thought you were going to get a little groping, made a knead here and there. But no, you're just standing like a dumbass in the empty shower stall.

"Strip." He growls.

Your skin erupts with gooseflesh in the bare shower shall, his gaze unwavering as he waits for his private show. He steps closer, his own clothes still on, thick arms folding over his chest.

"Slowly," he commands, "Show me what's gonna be mine."

You pinch the hem of your cargos, and then switch to your shirt.

What the hell do you even start with?

"Trousers first," Simon instructs roughly.

He stands there, still dressed, but his eyes devouring every inch of you as you slowly pop the button.

You slowly shimmy the waist band over the swell of each hip, pushing down to your ankles. Simon's breaths grow heavier as you flick the material off your feet his eyes transfixed on the movement.

"Thas it. Bra next," he commands, velvety smooth, "Nice n' slow. I want t'see all o' you."

Bra? Bra next? Why not your shirt?

You kick the cargos away, your shirt barely covering over your panties as you unclasp the bra through your shirt and maneuver it out from one of the sleeves to hold it in the tip of your finger.

Simon's eyes zero in on your pebbled nipples and pretty panties, the thin fabric doing little to hide your curves.

"Good girl," he purrs, "Now come 'ere."

You're... You're not even done. He motions with his fingers for you to approach him, his eyes dark with need.

"Do the thing," you manage out.

"The thing?" he grunts in an enticing voice, taking a step forward as you gesture to your mouth and nose.

He reaches up and pulls the mask to his nose, revealing his lips.

"Is this what y'want, love?" he asks, running his tongue across his bottom lip.

"Yeah," you breathe as you wet your lips.

Those would taste so good. You just know it.

"Y'want to see m' mouth, huh?" he asks, a smirk playing at the corners of those now revealed lips that show his canines, a chipped tooth, his lower face in general in its scarred glory, "Y'want to see what I can do, love?"

He closes the remaining space between you in a single stride, grabbing you by the back of the neck and yanking you forward.

His free hand grips your jaw, tilting your head up to meet his gaze, his eyes filled with dark hunger that makes your pussy pulse.

His mouth descends on yours, his lips claiming yours in a fiercely possessive kiss. You moan lowly, one of your arms circling his thick waist. He's burning up, hot and sweaty under his clothes that reek of his natural musk.

One of your curious hands ventures down, squeezing at his ass. He breaks the kiss with a surprised grunt, a coy smirk.

"Naughty, that," he huffs, "But I like it. My turn,"

The world before you lunges back, his mouth descending on your neck. He sucks and bites at the sensitive skin, his teeth leaving red marks in their wake.

His hands have a rough exploration, sliding down your skin, pausing just above the waistband of your panties to slide in to the globes of your ass. You stand in your tip toes to lean into him, whimpering at his rough gropes and kneading.

His mouth continues it's path down your neck, his teeth grazing the tops of your covered tits as his hands roughly squeeze and massage your perfect ass.

"Look at you," he growls, "Squirmin' an' I haven't even started."

He pushes your ass up, looking over your shoulder to watch it bounce. His hands slide lower, pulling the elastic of your panties down slightly, "Look at this," he murmurs, his breath hot against your ear. "You're fuckin' soaked through."

And he's right.

You squeeze your thighs, trying to rid that sticky mess thats unbearably uncomfortable. He tuts, delivering a slap to your ass.

"Tryin' to get yourself off, love?" he purrs, his fingers tracing along the edge of your panties.

You can't tell the difference between the onyx color from his pupils, you can hardly look at his eyes when his mouth is right there and his own tits are in your face. God, you want to nibble on those chapped lips, feel those fat biceps squeeze you as his hips snap on the backs of your thighs—

He backs you up, his hard cock pressing against you through his jeans, "Y'want it?"

"Yes!" You mewl.

"Thas what I like to 'ear, love," he husks, his fingers playing with the crotch of your panties. "Get that shirt off, wanna see those pretty tits finally."

You squirm, pulling your shirt up and off and throwing it somewhere that doesn't matter right now.

"Perfect," he rasps, his hand reaching up to cup your breast, "These are fuckin' nice,"

You arch, eyes rolling at the nice kneading to your sore flesh of being stuck in a bra all day. To your displeasure, freezing water sprays down your body and your uncomfortable groan bounces off the walls until the water warms up.

He's still fully dressed though, his clothes sticking to his muscular frame, accentuating every hard muscle and scar.

"Shower's a bit shitty," he says, his eyes raking your body. "But we don't 'ave to wait for that to get goin'."

Your panties have disappeared into his pocket, you follow the way his fingers shove it in— Your eyes divert to that large bulge behind the zipper.

"I know what y'want," he grunts, his hand moving to the belt and zipper.

Simon pulls down his zipper, the metal teeth parting revealing a black pair of boxers, which does little to hide the already impressive outline of his hard cock nudging up against the waist band.

He pushes his jeans down his thick thighs, his body still clothed in a tight black shirt and underwear drenched in water.

Your saliva glands burn at the sight of his happy trail plunging past the waist band, eyeing that nice size you only got a little feel of on your leg—

"Want a closer look?" he purrs, his hand slowly palming the base of his covered cock, precum bleeding out from the thin fabric on his thigh.

You make a face at him, your face burning with embarrassment

"What's the matter, love? You shy now?" he says with a smirk, his hand continuing to slowly palm and squeeze, "Y'were all full o' attitude today."

His head tilts mockingly, stroking himself for you, enticing you. Pinch yourself again, this might actually be a dream—

"Go on," he rasps, "Feel me."

You follow a trail of water down to his shirt clinging to his body, his drenched happy trail, and then the outline of his cock.

With one hand, you tug the waist band forward, clenching as he sucks in a breath that makes his abs tense.

He leans forward, his mouth hovering over your ear, "Go on," he husks, "Take it out, love."

He leans back, watching you intently, waiting for you to do as told. Maybe you do like to be told what to do in this context. With your other, you pull him free with your eager hand.

He moans, he fucking moans.

"Thas it, love," he husks out, his voice a little strangled. "Feel me up."

His hands rest on the wall behind you, caging you in. He hips rock into your hand, each stroke of your fist pulling the foreskin back.

"You're so big," you whimper.

Simon lets out a deep, gravelly groan as you speak. It just might be the hottest sound you've ever heard. Right next to the time he was lifting heavy dumbbells, letting all those grunts and growls loose.

He looks down at you, his gaze burning with lust and need, "You want it, baby?" he asks, his hips grinding against your hand harder, "Want this big dick?"

"Want it so bad, Si," you mumbled against his lips, your tongue darting out to lick his teeth.

his mouth claiming yours in a rough, passionate kiss. His tongue immediately tangles with yours, his teeth biting and tugging at your lower lip.

"I know you do," he grunts, his tongue slipping past your lips to slide against yours before speaking again, "You've been eye-fucking me all afternoon, love."

His hands start to wander along your body, mapping your curves with rough caresses,

"You're gonna get it," he husks.

One of his hands moves down to your hip as he moves lower, his mouth following the curve of your throat, leaving a trail of hot, wet kisses and bites.

"Want m'cock in that pretty pussy? Or your mouth?"

Where do you fucking think, smart guy?

"In me, inside me, please," you mewl.

His massive paws squeeze your hips to spin you around, planting your hands against the wall.

"Bend over," he growls, his eyes roaming over your body, "'M gonna give you what y'want."

His hands on your hips start to maneuver your body, making you arch your back and hips out.

He runs a hand up your spine, "So pretty," he murmurs as he takes in the sight of your body bent and on display for him.

He steps up behind you, his body flush against your back, his clothes still fucking on and wet and sticking to your body.

"Gonna fill ya up nice n' good," he sucks on his teeth with a low growl, "Been thinkin' o' me all day 'aven't you?"

His hips rock against your ass slowly, his bare cock rubbing on your supple skin.

His hands massage your ass, kneading and squeezing the flesh as you lean on your forearms, moaning as the blunt head notches to your dripping slit.

"Want m'hands all over you," Simon growls against your flesh, his rough palms skimming over your curves, "Mm, relax, yeah? Nice n' easy— Yeah, thas a good girl,"

His hips do a slow, deliberate grind, rocking into you to make room for him as he moves his lips along the curve of your shoulder.

There's slow shallow thrusts, working you open until he takes a deep stroke down to the base. Fuck, he's thick all over, heavy even inside your walls. If you had the brain power, you'd reach below and hold his balls.

"You're so damn gorgeous," he husks darkly, his breath hot against your skin, "I wanted this since I first saw you."

He's so intense he's burning a hole through you with his gaze, his hands still exploring your body, worshiping every curve, every dip, every inch of you.

His hands slide down to the front of your thighs, coaxing your legs further apart, opening you up for him.

"I knew I wanted you the moment you walked in," he breathes, "I knew you'd feel amazing under my hands."

Your cheek presses into the shower wall with a strangled moan,

"S'deep,"

Simon growls at your moan and pushes into you with more force, his hands squeezing your ass to yank you back, spearing you over and over on his cock.

"Fuckin' knew you'd feel s'tight an' good,"

His hand presses on your lower tummy, mouth hot and panting against your shoulder blade. He grabs the back of your hand, his fingers threading through yours and pressing it against the wall.

"Take it, take—this—cock,"

You choke out a moan, slumping against the wall, "please, so close, so close—"

"You gonna come f'me, huh?" he asks, his voice raw and breathless.

It's a lovely sound on him.

"Yes, please, wanna come, haven't came this fast before—" you beg.

He lets out a ragged, possessive growl at your words, his hips piston roughly against your ass, full balls swinging on your clit over and over.

"Come on, pet," he snarls, deft fingers twirling tight circles around your clit.

You whimper loudly, hands sliding down the slick shower walls, hips straining for him as you come hard with a broken mewl.

"That's it, fuck—"

He breaks off in a gutteral moan, hips stilling as he spills inside you. Simon catches you as your legs buckle out from under you, scooping you up against his chest to lean you back against the wall.

You don't even know what just happened in the span of 5 minutes. He's panting hard, his heart pounding against your back.

"Fuck," he growls, burying his face in the crook of your neck, "Fuckin' perfect, love,"

You smile lazily back at him, pawing at his shoulders to pull him in a soft languid kiss, his lips claiming yours in soft, sweet caresses. He melts against your touch, the fierce need from earlier receding now that you're sated. He returns your lazy kiss, his hands gently roaming up and down your back.

"Bloody hell," he mutters against your lips, "Fuckin' perfect, woman." He nips at your neck, "'M not done yet."

Looks like he is the cure to your sleeping problem.

[cxffecoupx]

love languages: lee jihoon

lee jihoon x reader fluff, headcanons warnings: none ig wc: 472 author's notes: we're ending the '96 line with this one!! i'm not very proud of this one tho, feels a little rushed. jihoon deserves the absolute best. but i hope you like it!

acts of service:-

jihoon always worries that you might feel underloved because he never says it out loud, but he doesn't realise the fact that you see the things he does for you out of love: tucking you in when you're too tired and sleep on the bed, helping with the dishes, refilling all your work or academic supplies when he sees you're about to finish them, wrapping a scarf round your neck when you're going out, picking you up from work or school... the list could go on. he does it out of love, but he doesnt know how much this makes your heart flutter.

"ji, sorry i got late, i had to work a little overtime. i'll take a cab and get home-" you tell him on the call as you get ready to leave your office. "stay right there. i'm coming to get you."

gift giving:-

also loves to spoil you by getting you things. you name it, he'll get it for you: dresses, jewelry, lingerie (this one's his fave because he gets to rip it off you and that gives him an excuse to buy even more), jackets, shoes. even when you try to get him to stop, he wouldn't budge; he's making all this money, it's to spend on you, why else would he need it? loves to see you all dolled up in dresses he picked out for you (and mind you, his choices are immaculate), and seeing you blush from all the compliment you get for it.

you step out of the washroom in a dark red bodycon dress. you could feel jihoon's eyes scanning you top to bottom as you walked to your dressing table to fix your hair. "you look so beautiful," his breath hitches as he speaks. "i always look good in dresses you pick for me."

making playlists for you:-

jihoon's world revolves around music. it also revolves around you. so what other best way to show his love than to create a playlist with all the songs that remind him of you? it all started by him listening to songs that end up reminding him of you. he decided to make a playlist of it so that he can hear it later, during work or gym. one day, he reveals to you about the playlist and absolutely bursts when he sees your enthusiasm. since then on, he's made playlists for you for every occasion, casual events like cooking or doing laundry to special days like birthdays and anniversaries.

the house was weirdly quiet today, with you having an off-day and jihoon being out for a work trip. you browse among the various playlists he's made for you before picking out one and heading to the kitchen to make dinner. now playing: for days i miss you a little too much

[n1pp]

my pre ‘25; 1 month glow up ✶

SOCIAL

-Review your social relationship satisfaction.

-Spend time with people you love.

-Practice better communication & listening skills.

-Set boundaries to protect your mental health.

-Join a community in person or online to connect with like-minded people.

PRIORITIES

-What is of highest priority to you as of right now? Make a list of your priorities.

-What requires your focus?

FINANCIAL

-Review your Spending habits.

-Start budgeting. Use 50-30-20 budgeting rule.

-Start saving money to an emergency fund.

-Make a plan to pay off any debts.

DECLUTTER

-Clean up your living space so that your environment can bring you calm instead of chaos.

-Declutter areas that are needed.

-Declutter your social media feed.

-Unfollow those who don't bring any value or make you compare and feel bad about yourself.

IDENTIFY STRESSORS

-Make a list of what brings you the most stress?

-Identify your capacity/energy to deal with these stressors right now.

-Take responsibility, believe that you are one step at a time creating a life where you have it all together.

ROUTINES

-Routines help keep you focused. Create a morning and night routine to keep you in check.

-Check-in with yourself daily: How am I feeling? How does my body feel? What do I need right now?

SELF CARE

-Take care of your basic needs: hydration, enough food, enough sleep, and social connection.

-Develop a self-care activity list and pick and plan daily self-care activities in your calendar.

- Identify your needs and try your nest to meet them.

FIND BALANCE

-Focus on Gratitude.

-Focus on balancing your nervous system.

-Develop a daily or weekly spiritual practice.

-Practice meditation.

NEW DIRECTION

-Focus on the new direction your life is heading. Journal or script out your future as you would like it. What does it look like when you have your life together?

-Invest in learning new skills relevant to your career and interests.

[tadc-harlequin-au]

Any of these lovely edgelords have dorky hobbies? Please? I hope they do? At least Kinger

LMFAO "LOVELY EDGELORDS" STOPPPPPPP

Pomni - When her brain stops being "RAAAAAAAAAA FIGHT SOMETHING RAAAAAAAAAAAAA" all the damn time, she eventually gets into puzzle-solving that gets her noggin a thinking. Sometimes, when she's outside, she'll try to balance some rocks. Chances are, if you see a randomly stacked pile somewhere in the city, that's her doing.

Caine - revisits old projects when he's in the mood, not reading, not shitfaced drunk or dealing with everyone. As the story progresses on and his relationship with Pomni develops, he gifts her some small handmade Mechanical Wonders. He doesn't know if she keeps them, but you know.

Ragatha - I've mentioned she likes to listen to vinyls and it's why she regularly goes to Caine for new ones to listen to, yeah? Well, she also likes to sew if she's not drinking tea, sensing charms or trying to clean artifacts. She's trying to master all sewing techniques.

Jax - Tries doing trick shots with whatever object he comes across with that don't even land 90% of the time. When he does do it successfully, he celebrates like he won a gold medal and praises himself so much. He also does that "highest leap" thing on every fucking doorway, chandeliers and stairways, though no one really understands it. Kaufmo joins in on this once he's added to the team and both of them start to compete who's got the highest jumps. They'll also compete with who can reach Gangle.

Gangle - Writes about everyone in fictitious, often time exaggerated settings and scenarios. She also has the tendency to "parrot" sentences (unintentionally), trying to mimic the voices (but immediately apologize when pointed out). She'll pop in front of anyone randomly, give them a sketch study, and then leave without uttering a single word, too shy to conversate even the slightest bit. Caine is the often victim of this because he's the one who gives her drawings praise the most.

Kingr - If not challenging every puppet on the block to a strategic board game match? Classic bug watching. He'll follow the insect as much as possible before moving on and pondering about the lives of the bugs. He likes to watch ants the most. When Quinnie officially arrives, he feels the need to share his discoveries with her. He also likes to tackle a little bit with calligraphy.

Z - I've already mentioned sculpting before, but it's not just big ones they make. Z would actually try to make miniature sculptures to give themselves a challenge. They also like to meditate, but the others can't sit still for very long and would sometimes get into arguments, leaving Z to abandon the session and try to reach a middle ground with them on what exactly they want to do (if they're willing to negotiate that is)

They're still on the process of discovering what exactly they like as a hobby, but food art seems to be on top of the list.

[atangledfate]

Lanolin's eyes were locked on the floor as everyone spoke there minds, among them perhaps only Blaze fully understood there situation. For what it was worth there world had rarely relied on the Federation, but it had always been a ruling body. They made the laws, they controlled the military, they had all the capital. If there was one organization that held all the cards in this world it was them. Trying to bully there way to victory felt like a sure fire way to piss them off. Sure they could threaten them with Sol's military, but then what? They come some kind of new military power? Who then do they answer to? As much as she HATED it! and she did, she didn't see a path to victory.

" It doesn't matter if they knew about Clutch or, Surge and Kitsunami, or even Belle and did nothing. The fact is when presented to the public how do you think it would reflect on us? Harboring Criminals who destroyed half a city. Hiding a Badnik within the base, and consorting with a knowing crime boss... GUN doesn't even need to fabricate a story--- They could tell the truth and it would still look bad for us. "

She spoke in a softer tone as she tensed up and seemed to feel the weight of her position for the first time. This was what it meant to be a leader--- saying what no one wanted to hear.

" Having leverage is good, But we can't just throw it in there face either. One miss step, one wrong sentence, and they declare restoration went rogue... cease our assets, cut off our fending, and declare its members criminals... They don't need to attack us today, to win tomorrow, and expecting Sol to step in with military force--- that looks like Blaze is planning an invasion... "

Her eyes went to Belle as she looked tired all of a sudden, like the day was wearing on her. The weight of what they faced had already dawned on her and she could not find a victory condition. No She had a feeling that the Federation had them dead to rights.

" I don't disagree belle but how do you think GUN would spin that? We both know Omega is like a dog to them, they send him in to clean house, and keep him under constant observation. "

Miles had been listening for awhile now without speaking a word to anyone. He just looked to have been thinking long and hard. It was a complicated mess, and Lanolin was right that going at this with a club was going to be messy. Confronting them with what little information they had, was going to backfire and it would make it all worse he figured.

Yet there was another option and Lanolin had already hinted at it.

" If we confront them now we lose, its just that simple. Showing our cards at this juncture... We'd tip our hand to early. As much as i hate to admit it... I think here today we have ot concede... let them have there little investigation really no other course that doesn't lead to conflict between us and the federation... "

" However, what we need is evidence that this was a big plot on there end. If we can prove that then in court we might have a chance... with enough capital and the right lawyers we can argue our case. But trying to argue it with this president here and now? it's like yelling at cop because he's gonna give you a ticket... or worse trying to bribe the cop. "

" that's my play, we let them think they've won and act behind the scenes--- Convert operations. It's our best play...we can use mimic as a bargaining chip to show our good will. Once we know more we can make a plan to counter GUN and the Federation but right now... if we act rashly we end up terrorists on a watch list... that's my idea, and i think our best shot of saving restoration "

Sonic didn't respond as he was staring at the wall grinding his teeth. He didn't get angry often but, this was one of those moments he felt like he was being dicked over. Yea Tails might be right but, he didn't have to like it! He knew the kid was smart, and maybe a conflict would be bad! but letting these guys use shitty political tactics on them sucked!

" So that's it? Just roll over and play dead? I'm still for butt kickin' let them call me a terrorist if they want... they can do it while choking on there teeth--- But what ever the plan i'll do my part. But this kinda stuff ain't my style... "

"I can't say we don't have any options. After all, I'm sure even GUN wouldn't wish to make an enemy of me or the Sol Empire. It may not be much of an advantage given I'm in their world, though it's at least something to push back with." Blaze was never one to use her status for threats or warnings, and today was the first time she's done it so much. Though the feline wouldn't sit by and let her friends be pushed around or threatened.

"Not to mention the fact they never even attempted to reach out to anyone about the fact Clutch is a criminal, or how they also knew Mimic was here in the base. I'm can only guess you guys had Mimic as a high priority of catching, so they should've known too. Easy to send a message if they have a spy in. Gives off the impression they set you guys up to fail. I only wish I had more solid proof on the rumors about the commander." Rowan was sure having solid intel on that guy would make them clear out in an instant.

"We also got Mimic in the Shadow Void to turn over. Can't say I trust GUN with someone like Mimic, if only because I wouldn't put it past them to put him to work, though it's something." Rowan wanted to just throw him in a hole and leave it at that, though he'd never hear the end of it from Tangle.

"If Surge is staying then so am I. They can try to take me, though they'll regret it in the end. All it takes is four to six minutes for someone to drown, and I can speed that up much faster with how smart I am." Kitsunami wasn't going to let anyone take Surge, or let anyone take him away from Surge. If GUN wanted to see how dangerous the fennec was then that was the fastest way to do it.

"It's okay Kitsunami. I doubt they'll try anything that'll tick you and Surge off." Belle wasn't surprised Kitsunami would go through such lengths, though gears and starters she didn't need to see him start racking up a body count of GUN soldiers. The tinkerer herself was thinking about what she should do. Tails and Lanolin had a point, yet so did Vector. Not to mention she was sure they'd only be interested in dismantling her. She was sure they could consider her as safe eggtech to copy.

"I won't go with GUN because I don't trust them. And if they want to take me just because of who my creator is then I'd be more than happy to bring up how they let Omega work for them." Belle knew Eggman created Omega, though as far as she knew they never tried to punish or arrest him. Hopefully that'd be of help to get them to leave her alone.

"So, we got Blaze backing us up, the fact they withheld the fact Clutch was a criminal, also not telling use Mimic was here, my unconfirmed dirt on the commander, and the fact they let Omega work for them. I guess we could also count them coming off as overly hostile." Rowan found all this excessive, at least without any warning.

"Is this a bad time to mention I also stole Clean Sweep's money? Maybe we should had that over, since I'm sure a lot of it must have been earned illegally." Belle could easily find out what was Restoration donations and what was Clean Sweep profit.

[campingwiththecharmings]

In Your Arms I Feel at Home

AN: Inspired by a prompt from this list. This got a little angstier than I'd intended but the muse wants what it wants. Happy last day of Poevember, besties 🥰

(Un-beta’d)

Poe's favorite part of the day is coming home to you.

Rated: T Words: 698 Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader Warnings: Mild angst, feelings of hopelessness, emotional hurt/comfort AO3

——————

It’s Poe’s favorite part of the day, coming home to you. He looks forward to it from the moment he wakes, your side of the bed long empty and cold thanks to your obscenely early call time. He thinks about it all day, walking in through the door, seeing you on the couch; the mental image alone brings a smile to his lips. He can already feel the warmth of your gaze, of your smile, the press of your lips against his. He longs for it, for you, wanting nothing more than to be in your presence, to be afforded even a moment of your attention. 

Today is especially rough, a combination of the latest recruits not being up to snuff, news of numerous failed missions, and the capture and destruction of, not one, but three Resistance bases in the outer rim territories. Needless to say, morale is low. He tries to stay positive, tries to keep the faith, knows that people are looking to him, but sometimes it’s just so hard, you know? 

He’s slow as he trudges down the corridor toward your shared room, the events of the day weighing him down as he tries to keep his head held high. How much longer can he keep this up? How much longer  can any of them keep this up? This isn’t sustainable, not at the rate they’re losing allies. 

But what else is there to do but keep fighting?

His thoughts weigh heavy on him as he keys in the door code, the familiar snick of the door opening satisfying as he knows what lays behind it—

“Hey, you,” you say, smiling softly at him as you glance up at him from your data pad.

The sight of you is like a balm to his soul.

Without a word, he drops his things to the floor, making a beeline to where you sit comfortably on the couch. You know immediately something’s wrong, your brow furrowing in concern. It makes his heart ache to worry you.

“Bad day?” you ask, taking his hands in yours as he pauses before you.

Your hands are steady and sure, your touch warm and comforting. He wants to tell you everything—and he will—but he can’t, not yet. Instead, he just nods, finally allowing the hopelessness he’s kept at bay all day swallow him whole.

Without another word, you pull him down onto the couch with you, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. He buries his face in your neck with a shaky sigh, his body going limp and heavy against yours. You shush him softly, running your hands soothingly over his back, shoulders, and neck. He melts into you, his arms encircling your waist as you press gentle kisses against the side of his head. You always catch him when he falls. He’s so grateful for that, for you, that he can be like this with you, that he can let his guard down, that he can be vulnerable.

You hold him like that for Maker knows how long, giving him as much time as he needs to collect his thoughts, to work through everything. When he presses a kiss against the side of your neck and shifts so his head is in your lap, you know he’s ready. You gaze down at him with an encouraging smile, your fingers sinking into his soft curls. He sighs contentedly, eyelashes fluttering closed at your touch. He’s quiet so long, you think he’s fallen asleep, but then he speaks, his voice low and soft as he gives you an account of his day. You listen attentively, twirling your fingers around his silken strands. 

He feels lighter by the end of it, a gentle smile on his lips, a small flicker of hope reigniting in his chest. He gazes up at you, capturing one of your hands in his and bringing it to his mouth for a kiss.

“And how was your day?” he asks, lacing your fingers together.

You smile down at him, still playing with his hair, a lightness in your chest that hadn’t been there before he’d walked into the room.

“Better now that you’re here.”

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

i am no longer doing a taglist. please follow @charmingupdates for updates and turn on notifications.

[siremasterlawrence]

Kingdom Of Lawrence: A King’s Tale

It is literally midnight when I hear the clock go off ringing loudly as a sound breaks past my room as I exit the door, closing it as I am rushing down the staircase to the last step on to the main floor and I spot him as he turns to see me with a stern face as places the last gift down under the tree he places his hands in his knees as he leaps up on to his feet.He giggles a bit making a hand gesture land in a figure pointing at me he wagging it very much with a disapproving stare as I roll my eyes at him, he is in shock by my actions as I stare upward above him as his eyes follow me he is too slow as the net drops on to him covering him entirely sending his massive body to the floor and I watch him struggle to escape. I begin to giggle heading toward him holding on to the wall I brace it managing to remove the light plus on the tree to pull it out before flipping the switch on as the lights flipping it off, I stare him down grabbing a book from my desk as the light shines over it for him to see clearly and Santa’s mind begins to rack at this unforeseen consequence of a man on the good list.

“Is this really how you behave?”

“Apparently! It’s obvious”

“You were always on the good list”

“Yeah! About that “

“Insolent”

“Poor pathetic baby “

“Do you know who I am speaking too?”

“Of course! Santa Clause”

“Release me! I will forget it”

“This is my rules”

“I am in control “

“You will be my…”

“Victims?”

“Oh brother!”

“What? Say it”

“God you are stupid!”

“No! My asset”

“Your asset?”

The young man claps a bit watch Santa’s urgent need to escape unfortunately for him the night is only just about to begin for my twisted tracks simply put as I stomp my feetat all because the trap is set the net entirely covers him and slowly begins to lift him up In to the air he watches the young man who is asserting his permanent control on to this legend. The young man cracking up a loud set of barrel of laughter as it ricocheting in the wall bouncing back in to his ears with a thunderous cracking sound hitting him hard right smacking him hard as his ears burn in shame and barely without a second thought he reaches for his pocket knife and slashes the net allowing him to fall right on to his back and soon he cries in pain. Santa Claus is getting back to the basics a expression of fear is apparent on his face he peers in to my eyes deeper then anyone ever else he is some how unearth from me as I walk ever closer to him and he uses his hands and feet to back up to the tree and the lights slither down wrapping him up like a Christmas present.

“How did you? What the fuck? You listen..”

“I will be doing the talking now”

“I am the one who is charge “

“You work for me now”

“LOOK AT ME”

“I AM YOUR KING “

“YOU WILL SUBMIT”

“I will…”

“You will what ?”

“Say it”

“I will submit “

“This house is a Santa Booby Trap”

“Why are you …”

“You are hottie so built and I claim you “

“Far from a answer “

“I am tired of my life “

“You want to start over “

“I guess you deserve it! Let’s make a deal “

Kris Clause is on his feet smirking as both of his eyes are glowing with such a beautiful green tint ever so emerald green as be sees things in a new way as the air piling under him swirls past the top of his head like a hurricane and swirls through him summon up magic overtaking his body as golden aura of color powers him as it flows off of his body. Flowing in the air finally it iscollecting on to my hands encircling upmy arm to my shoulders straight diving in to my ears causing my stir shaking mein to a fiery session as I fall to my knees his power infusing in to my nerves, bloodand now my brain and my mind is sent in to tunnel vision out of my house in to a cold airy state in Santa’s workshop and hoard of elves appear. I wake up to see my house completely transform my homein to a palace of power as I sit on the throne empowered as Santa takes a knee when hewalks in.

“What is my name?”

“Master Lawrence “

“You are my property now! So serve me”

“Yes Master”

“Master Lawrence “

“The power Of Santa and the North Pole “

“Good boi!”

“Mmmm! Oh My God!”

“You are enthralled and in love “

“My lust did you knows no bound “

“You are my God!”

“My first present is a second slave���

“I love you sir”

“Sir Yes Sir”

“Watch my power brings it”

“Magic is real and it’s all yours “

“Master please meet your second boi “

“I am your favorite, your number one but this

is Slave Charlie your knight and bodyguard.”

The end

[the---hermit]

29|11|2024

I decided to bring back my self care lists. I don't really have a structured plan yet, bc it was a decision I made without much thought, but to start I think I'll try to be mindful each day by doing at least three things that can count as self care, and then write them in my daily posts to hold myself accountable. No matter how small they are they count as long as I am doing something to make myself feel better. I am going through an emotional time and I need to be extra careful with myself, and since this is a low effort thing that worked in the past it seems like the right way to go.

today's productivity:

read first thing in the morning

wrote and posted a book review of the book I finished (I haven't posted one in ages it was nice to write one again!)

continued rewriting the second set of notes for my political institutions class

duolingo

worked a bit on my reading journal and set up my bujo for December

today's self care:

set my alarm a bit later than usual

finished studying earlier than usual both in the morning as well as in the afternoon because if brain isn't braining I don't see why I should torture myself and struggle when I clearly need rest

started relistening monstrous agonies and spent my entire lunch break listening to it (I need the sort of comfort that podcast gives me and it was truly needed)

📖: The Forbidden Harbor

🎵: Mayday by Three Days Grace

[httpsdana]

Can you write for kenan yildiz. Like the reader being insecure and kenan comforts her.

comfort / prompt9

thankyouuuu x

Beneath the Surface~Kenan Yildiz

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

9. “I love you, even on the days when you don’t love yourself.”

The gym was nearly empty as she sat on the bench, staring at her reflection in the wall-length mirror. The weights she'd just lifted sat abandoned next to her, but it wasn’t the workout that had drained her—it was her own thoughts.

She tugged at the hem of her tank top, trying to cover her stomach, her mind replaying the comments she overheard earlier. “She’s strong, but she could look better,” one girl had whispered.

The words clung to her, sinking deep into her already fragile confidence.

Kenan walked in, towel slung over his shoulder, a wide smile on his face. “Hey, you disappeared after your set. Everything okay?”

She forced a nod. “Yeah, just needed a break.”

He narrowed his eyes slightly, sensing something was off. “You sure?”

She hesitated, then sighed before speaking. “I just…don’t feel good about myself today.”

Kenan frowned, walking over and kneeling in front of her. “What happened?”

She bit her lip, debating whether to tell him. “I overheard some people talking. They said I’m strong...but I could look better.”

Kenan’s jaw tightened, but his eyes stayed soft as he took her hands in his. “y/n, sweetheart, listen to me. Those people? They don’t know you. They don’t know how hard you work, how much you care, or how strong you really are, inside and out.”

She looked down avoiding his eyes, tears stinging her eyes. “But what if they’re right?”

“They’re not,” he said firmly. “You’re beautiful exactly as you are. Not because of how you look, but because of who you are. Your strength, your kindness, your determination, that’s what makes you incredible.”

His thumb brushed over her knuckles as he added, “And I’ll be here to remind you of that every time you forget. I love you, even on the days when you don’t love yourself.”

Her chest tightened at his sincerity, but this time, it was from emotion, not insecurity. She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face in his shoulder. “Thank you, Kenan.”

He hugged her tightly, his hand running up and down her back. “Always,” he whispered.

In that moment, surrounded by his unwavering support, she felt the weight of those cruel words lift. Kenan believed in her, and maybe, just maybe, she could start believing in herself too.