#a date with death tickles

[sshiostwordblog]

I talked about lee casper, I drew lee casper. Even if almost nobody in the TK community knows him.

As well as a little bonus

Seems like MC found a suspicious book while they were searching through the library! First thought was to read it out loud, and whoopsie daisies… (based off of “beyond the bet” cuz I have it nd bought it cuz I’m loyal ☝️☝️☝️)

[ilium-ilia]

kiss the skin that crawls

john price x fem!reader | the surrogate au | masterlist

Part Five: actionable request

tw: smut

The bed is cold when you wake up, but your chest isn’t.

Overflowing with bubbling mirth, you’re warmed from the inside out as thoughts from the previous night overwhelm your senses. You still feel your head on John’s chest—shirtless, coarse patches of hair tickling your cheek as his hand traces your spine, dancing along each vertebrae. Memorizing each and every curve you hide under. When his touch doesn’t lull you to sleep, his whispers do. Soft nothings, lips against the top of your head, free hand hooking beneath your knee to pull your leg over his body until you melt into him. 

Now in the waking world, you lay flat on your back with your hand over your sternum as the ceiling displays the sun’s gentle art for your viewing pleasure. Rays strewn across eggshell white in long bars—pillars of light to ignite your life. Your heart is beating too fast. Hopped up on adrenaline and a desire you know you could name but are too scared to. There is a tightness inside of you that coils and writhes; an angry snake waiting to strike. 

You think back to your conversation with John before you brought him to your bed and you do your best not to cringe at the memory. Your gauche nature will be the death of you one of these days. Awkwardly making sex so transactional, like you’re a bitch to be bred, or he’s a show stallion only meant to pummel you then vanish when the deed is done. 

What’s even worse is that you think that if he were in this bed with you right now, you could do it. After all the fanfare of being a timid creature with guarded walls, you want it. You want John Price and the way his waist tapers down his latissimus dorsi and the curve of his lips and the gentle touches on your back. 

Instead, he is in the kitchen. Far away from you. Enough that your dreams remain farfetched fantasies you can’t quite grasp. You hear the sizzling of food on cast iron pans and smell freshly warmed bread in the toaster. He is a guest in your home, which makes you either the worst host in history, or him the most chivalrous gentleman you’ve ever brought to your bed. 

Forgoing the headache of deciding what clothes to wear, you strip naked and wrap yourself in your bathrobe instead. The plush white cotton helps to ebb the emotions swarming beneath your skin, but all that work seems to be for naught the moment you wander into the kitchen to find John plating food. 

Though his dark hair is mussed, his clothes are clean—new. Not the same attire he wore last night for your date, but something comfortable. A charcoal grey shirt and sandy trousers complete with a chestnut belt. Not too far from his feet lies a bulky backpack adorned with several patches—SAS, O POS, an insignia you don’t recognize enough to name, but enough to know the parent. 

Ex-military. 

“Morning, love.” John’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts as he glances at you from over his shoulder. His scapulas dance beneath the fabric of his shirt as he plates breakfast. “Was just about to come wake you up.” 

Wandering to the counter beside him, you cross your arms over your chest as you ignore the warmth inside of you and how it only seems to broil worse with each syllable he speaks. 

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you tell him. 

“Force of habit,” he chuckles. “Was up before you and lazing around didn’t feel proper.” 

He clicks the stove off and the gas dies with a hiss which frees up his hands enough to hand you your plate. He’s gone all out with a near decorous breakfast complete with eggs, sausage, toast and jam. The china is warm in your palms and the aroma is almost enough to clear your head of the thoughts mudding your vision. 

“I guess you would be one to struggle with that, sir.” You lay your teasing on thick with a facetious tone and a cheeky smirk. John raises a brow, prompting you to nod towards the pack still sitting in the corner of the kitchen. “Military, right?” 

“You’ve got a keen eye,” he notes. 

Humming, you lean your lower back against the counter as you begin to shovel food into your mouth. Pepper flakes bite the tip of your tongue as you devour your eggs, and the creamy yolk smothers your mouth until it’s hydrated. 

“Is that where you retired from?” you question. 

“Discharged nearly six months ago,” John nods. 

“What rank were you?” 

“Captain.” Pausing, John looks at you with his chin tilted down and brows raised in playful warning. “But it’s just John to you, darling.” 

A loud simper paints your lips at his teasing, and you decide not to push the boundaries of fun too far before your full attention is on your food again. Neither of you bother to wander to the dining table. You’re embarrassed at the thick layer of dust that coats it from lack of company—besides, you’re more than content standing here anyway. 

As you eat, you find your eyes wandering throughout the house, unable to stop the way your brain mentally files away work for you to do later. The chimney still glares at you from the soot covered hearth, and you haven’t noticed how grimy the windows have gotten until you look out at the yard and note the way the sun catches on the glass, displaying each speckle of dirt and dried rain clear as day. 

Noticing your mental meandering, John picks up the conversation—small talk about any and everything to keep your brain distracted. His voice is canorous, rolling over you like warm, lazy waves in a crystalline lake. He watches you intently as you speak, devoting his full attention to you—must be the military in him, you tell yourself. You’re not sure why it makes your thighs press together—the idea of concentration; of someone being immersed with you. 

You don’t realize just how far John’s fixation with you goes until you bite into your toast and you find he’s no longer looking into your eyes, but rather your lips. Teeth digging into golden food, strawberry jam coating your tongue like a pure taste of summer—you freeze when he reaches out for you. Eyes wide open—a doe that’s enthralled with the new world—you watch as he swipes his thumb at the corner of your mouth to gather a stray drop of jam.

Instead of wiping it off on a napkin, he shoves his thumb in his mouth to clean it with his tongue instead. 

It isn’t until his thumb pops back out of his mouth that you recognize how exhausted you are. Stricken with enervation with the wasted energy of pretending that John Price isn’t what he is—a downright handsome man. Gentle and kind enough to get you weak in the knees with a voice like honeyed velvet; something that gets your sex trembling between your too-tight thighs. 

You are tired of denying yourself the human desire of intimacy, of letting your stilted nature get in the way of what’s been slowly brewing between the two of you—of what’s bound to come sooner or later. Forgetting about your breakfast, you set your plate on the counter next to you before you let your hands wander towards John’s chest. He pauses as your fingers curl into the collar of his shirt, and though you know there would be very little in the world that could ever make a man like him budge, he follows your lead when you pull him closer. 

“Thank you for breakfast, John.” Your voice is low—soft. Hidden deep in your throat as if too timid to fully show its face. 

“My pleasure, darling,” he hums as he sets his plate next to yours. 

Neither of you have finished your meal. 

Then, there is gentle connection. Warm lips pressed to yours as your hands smooth over strong collarbones until you’re reaching firm shoulders. John’s hands find your waist before he’s kissing away the remaining essence of jam from the corner of your mouth. You think about how you got the jam at a farmer’s market from an old lady—if only you had known it would be the catalyst to this. 

Embers to flame, flame to roaring fire—it isn’t long before your hands find the tie around your waist. All it takes is a simple tug to get your robe to fall open. Circulating air eagerly kisses your bare skin as your chest displays itself, nipples already perking against the soft cotton of his t-shirt. 

When the robe slips down around your shoulders, it’s all over. 

John’s on you like a well trained dog finally given permission to eat his treat—lips crashing into you, hands gently pawing at your bare skin, he keeps you grounded with the right amount of intensity. A strength that keeps you pulled down to earth without the chance of your brain whisking you elsewhere. The lingering heat from the stove warms your hand as you place your palm on the counter to steady yourself while he nuzzles his face into the side of your neck, trailing kisses along your shoulder until his knees are near buckling and he’s kneeling before you. 

“Dessert already?” he murmurs. His hand is slipping behind your thigh now, hiking your leg up until you’re squeaking, hips leaning against the counter for stability as he places you over his shoulder. He gives you a cheeky smirk at your breathlessness. “You’re too kind.” 

Your sassy response dies on your tongue the moment he buries his face into your cunt. Tongue out and eagerly slipping into your sex, languidly rubbing over your clit, fingers curling into your hips to hold you steady as he eats—you groan. The back of your head thuds against the cabinet as your fingers weave into the messy strands of his inky hair, and the way he hums at the feeling leaves your eyes rolling. 

It’s electric. Neurons firing in your brain, cortex rumbling like a content kitten just as John works you open onto one finger, then two. He’s precise. Unabashed in searching for what makes you tick and then assaulting those buttons until you reward him with a moan and trembling knees. 

“Oh fuck, John, t-that’s good, that’s…” Breathless; hardly coherent, you mumble as he works. Fingers curling, your clit hardens against his tongue and he growls in response. He likes the chase. Likes how he can taste it. He doesn’t want it getting away from him now that his maw is wet with its sapor. 

You come undone with a delicious keen that leaves your thighs twitching and knees nearly buckling. You can tell by how long it takes John to slow that he doesn’t want this to end yet, but his mouth leaves you the moment you whimper. Then, it’s all heavy breathing and quiet smiles as he continues to gently pump his fingers in and out of you without rush or worry. 

“There’s more where that came from if you’re still hungry,” John muses as he presses a kiss to your lower stomach. 

John doesn’t hesitate to take you to your bed the moment the request leaves your lips. Robe left on the kitchen floor, you’re splayed out on top of your mussed duvet as you watch John relieve himself of his own clothes. Soft chest and stomach free from his shirt, trousers shoved down his legs where powerful thighs sport dark streaks of thick hair—then his boxers. 

You don’t know why you’re surprised at his size. John’s a tall, powerful man; it only makes sense that the rest of him matches. Dark curls around the base of an uncut cock, a lovely vein protruding on the left side that ebbs and flows as he takes himself into his palm to steady the swinging weight as he kneels into the bed between your legs. 

“Goregous thing you are,” John murmurs. Using his free hand, he caresses your chin and the side of your jaw with the pad of his thumb. “Laswell and Lottie did a fine job choosing you, love.” 

His words stoke a fire in your stomach—or maybe it’s just the way he’s slotting his cock against your entrance. Back arching, you feel yourself melt beneath the pressure as he begins to split you open. You reach up to hold the hand still pressed against your face; your breath stutters as it leaves between your lips. 

“Didn’t do too bad with you, either,” you say, mustering as much of a sultry tone as you can manage. “You’re gonna make a good dad, John.” 

Your slip up shames you, and the heat it brews in your chest sears out all the feelings of desire and want that you had before. Wide eyed, you stare up at John with your apology half formed on your tongue but you don’t get the chance to let it spew out before his hips are snapping forward, filling you up to the point your breath leaves and your lungs are starving. 

“Yeah?” John prompts. His pace is slow and leisurely—enough that he has time to hook his arms beneath your knees and press them forwards; as close to your chest as your body will allow. “You’re gonna make a good mum, aren’t you? Can’t wait to see you like that, love. All plump with a kid with those cute dresses you’re always wearing everywhere. I think that’d look so good on you.” 

This dirty fantasy devours both you and John whole—a little secret between the two of you. Kate and Lottie don’t have to know the gritty details of what’s said here as you’re fucked into the bed. Right now, all you can focus on is John and the way his chest darkens with a flush of red the more he thrusts into you, pace slowly creeping up as your hands rest on his arms. You get lost in the way his muscles bulge beneath his skin with every morsel of movement, and the sound of his grunting, and how he hisses through his teeth until he’s nearly whistling. 

“Gonna be there through it all. Each appointment, every ache in your body; you’re gonna let me be here, aren’t you darling? Gonna let me kiss it all away?” Unable to get a response out through your moans, all you can do is nod as you take what he gives you. “Yeah, I’ll get you glowing, love. You’ll look so beautiful.” 

It builds. Strong and fast. This tight chord fraying inside of you, pulling tighter, taut string vibrating with each pluck until your muscles are melting everywhere but your stomach. John feels you clench around him, and he’s hissing as his forehead greets yours, hips refusing to change their pace now that he knows what gets you ticking. 

“Can’t give that to you until you come for me, pretty girl,” he says. 

“I’m so close, j-just—right there,” you stutter. 

“Doing so well, come on darling, just one more time, that’s all I need from you,” John rambles. “I can feel it, you’re so close, just a little more and I’ll fill you up nice and pretty. I’ll give you that baby you want so bad.” 

Somewhere between his lascivious muttering and the strong head of his cock hitting right where you need him to, you unravel. Legs quivering, back arching—your fingers curl into John’s arms as you try to keep yourself steady. He praises you throughout it all, pace slowing just enough to let you catch your breath for a fleeting moment before he’s plunging back in full force. 

His murmurs are hardly coherent now, just mindless strings of words half formed but emotion so thick you can feel it brewing in his skin. Child, mum, full, mine. John buries his face into the side of your neck just as he comes, and you gasp at how you can feel him fill you. Cock rhythmically twitching inside of you, nestled right against your cervix, cum flowing right where it needs to. 

Then, there is the gentle let down. Breaths slowing until panting wanes, bodies separating until he’s laying next to you and pulling you into his arms, heat dispersing until the sweat lining your skin nearly has you shivering. The morning sun is lazing into the afternoon as your fingers trace the curling pattern of hair on John’s chest like trails on a map. A content buzz coos inside your cranium, lulling you into a heavenly state of in-between. 

Neither of you speak about your slip of words or how it seemed to fuel John—in fact, neither of you speak at all for a long time. You’ve nearly fallen asleep by the time he moves, gently resting your head on the mattress as he props himself up to kiss you. 

“You broken?” he asks. 

“Never better,” you grin. 

John returns the smile as he sits back on his haunches to look at you. You curl beneath his gaze, knees bending up as your heels dig into the duvet and arms curling over your chest as if suddenly timid. He only looks at you as if you’re silly for your bashfulness as his hand slots between your thighs. 

A steady stream of cum has leaked out of you, making a mess of your legs and the crux of your ass. Wordlessly, John wipes his fingers along the trail, gathering it up until not a single drop remains. 

“Oh, I can grab a rag, don��t worry about that,” you dismiss. 

Without warning, John’s then pressing his fingers back into your cunt—slow but with a goal in mind. You gasp as your hips jut upwards, and he can only smile at you as he makes sure you’ve taken every drop like you ought to. 

“Can’t afford to be wasteful, darling,” he reminds. “Would hate to disappoint the Laswells, now wouldn’t we?” 

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[hsnlv]

caught in the act (of falling) | y.jw

req!: jungwon with fake dating trope (and like he wants to make it a real relationship or smth like that)

pairing: jungwon x fem!reader

synopsis: what started as a fake dating scheme to fend off jungwon’s ex turns into stolen kisses, lingering touches, and feelings neither of you expected. when “pretend” starts to feel a little too real, jungwon’s flustered confession might just change everything.

warnings/others: fake dating trope!, cute flustered jungwon🤭, jungwon’s ex is obsessive (i would be too if i were one actually)

w/c: 1.07k

here’s my masterlist!

you honestly can’t figure out how you and jungwon ended up here—tangled in each other’s arms in his room, no one around but the two of you. his chest is warm against your back, his chin perched lazily on your shoulder, and his hands are wrapped around yours, helping hold the comic you’re both supposed to be reading. except neither of you is paying attention. how could you, when you can feel his breath tickling your neck every time he exhales?

this whole thing started as a joke—or at least, that’s what you tell yourself. jungwon’s ex had been haunting him like a particularly clingy ghost, and out of sheer desperation, he asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend. fake dating, he called it. to drive her away.

at first, you thought he was out of his mind.

<<<<<<<<<<<<

“jungwon, have you completely lost it?” you whisper-shouted, darting nervous glances at his ex, who was seated way too close to your table in the cafeteria. her glare was sharp enough to cut through steel. “she’s going to end me.”

“she’s not going to end you,” jungwon whispered back, though his tone wasn’t exactly convincing. “look, it’s a foolproof plan. a few hugs, maybe hold hands—just when she’s around! it’ll be fine.”

“fine? jungwon, she’s been staring at me like i ran over her cat.”

he winced, rubbing the back of his neck. “okay, fair. but you’ll be doing me the biggest favor ever. i’ll owe you one. please?”

you crossed your arms. “and what exactly does fake dating involve? because i swear if this gets weird—”

“it won’t!” he exclaimed quickly, his face scrunching up in that stupidly cute way that made you want to throttle him and pinch his cheeks at the same time. “just little stuff. harmless things. like holding hands. maybe linking arms. y’know, couple things.”

you eyed him warily. “define ‘couple things.’”

<<<<<<<<<

“couple things” turned out to be… a lot. jungwon, in his infinite wisdom, decided you both needed to “practice” being a convincing couple. this involved a series of increasingly absurd activities that had you questioning his sanity—and yours for agreeing to any of it.

“okay,” jungwon said one afternoon, pacing in front of you like a drill sergeant. “let’s practice nicknames. couples always have nicknames.”

“we already have nicknames,” you pointed out. “you call me by my name, and i call you uwon to annoy you.”

“no, no, no.” he waved his hand dramatically. “those aren’t cute nicknames. i mean things like ‘baby,’ or ‘sweetheart,’ or… or ‘honeybuns.’”

you nearly choked. “honeybuns? jungwon, if you call me honeybuns in public, i will personally make sure your life is a living nightmare.”

“noted,” he said with a laugh. “okay, let’s keep it simple. i’ll call you… babe. and you can call me—”

“uwon,” you interrupted, grinning. “i’m sticking with uwon.”

he sighed but didn’t argue. “fine. but we still need to work on PDA. let’s practice holding hands.”

you raised an eyebrow. “jungwon, we’ve held hands before.”

“yeah, but not like this,” he said, reaching out to intertwine your fingers with his. his grip was warm and secure, and he gave your hand a small squeeze. “see? it’s all about the squeeze. it makes it look more real.”

“this is ridiculous,” you muttered, though your cheeks felt suspiciously warm.

<<<<<<<<<<<<

present.

weeks passed, and jungwon’s ex finally got the message. her death stares became less frequent until she eventually stopped showing up altogether. mission accomplished. but the fake dating didn’t stop.

“uwon,” you call softly, the nickname slipping out naturally as you shift in his arms. he hums, his chin still resting on your shoulder, but his hold on you tightens slightly.

you put the comic down and turn to face him, his hands automatically settling on your waist like it’s second nature. “what are we doing?” you ask, your tone light but pointed.

he blinks at you, his brows furrowing in confusion. “reading?”

you sigh, rolling your eyes. “not the comic. this.” you gesture between the two of you. “what is this, jungwon? because i’m pretty sure your ex isn’t spying on us anymore.”

jungwon freezes, his eyes darting away like he’s suddenly very interested in the corner of his room. “uh… practice?” he says weakly.

“practice for what?” you press, crossing your arms. “you said the whole point was to convince your ex. but she’s gone now. so why are we still… doing this?”

he scratches the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at you. “well, you know… just in case.”

“just in case of what?” you shoot back, leaning in slightly. “jungwon, are you hiding something?”

his face flushes, his mouth opening and closing like he’s searching for an excuse and coming up empty. finally, he blurts out, “okay, fine! i like you, alright?”

your brain short-circuits. “you… what?”

jungwon immediately panics, his hands flailing as he starts to babble. “oh my god, i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to just—i mean, i did, but not like this! and i totally get it if you don’t like me back, but—oh no, wait, please like me? or don’t? no, wait, maybe you could? or we could just pretend this never happened? or—”

“jungwon,” you interrupt, your voice sharp enough to cut through his spiral.

“yes?” he squeaks, his wide eyes meeting yours.

instead of answering, you grab the front of his shirt and pull him into a kiss. he freezes for a split second before melting against you, his lips moving softly against yours. the kiss deepens, and his eagerness makes you giggle into his mouth, causing him to pull back slightly, breathless.

“what’s so funny?” he asks, pouting.

“you,” you tease, your fingers still gripping his shirt. “you’re way too eager.”

his cheeks flush, but he doesn’t back down. instead, he grins mischievously and suddenly hovers over you, gently pushing you onto your back. “you stole a kiss from me,” he says, his voice low and playful, “so now you’re stuck with me. forever.”

before you can respond, he leans down and captures your lips again, this time with more confidence. his hands cradle your face, and the weight of him above you is both grounding and electrifying. when he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours, his smile soft but radiant.

“so…” he whispers, his tone teasing, “can we drop the ‘fake’ part now?”

you laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck. “yeah, i think we can.”

[snailpebbles]

Simple Misunderstanding- OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Best Friend! reader

Summary: You couldn't both be this stupid right..? Oscar is telling you you're dating, but he never even asked you out.

Pure fluff, absolute idiots in love <3

⋅˚₊‧𐙚‧₊🍊˚ 🧡୨♡୧ ⋅🔸˚₊‧꒰ა🟠໒꒱ 🍊‧₊˚

You and Oscar have been best friends since highschool when he (not surprisingly) was on the verge of failing Physics from missing so many tests. Since those tutoring sessions you've been inseparable.

You've always had a thing for him, which you would deny until your death that hopefully takes place beside him, Bicentennial Man style. The problem is.. he's a world famous Formula One driver and you're what? Still studying for your degree? No, you could never deserve this sweetheart of a man. Even if you style his hair most days and he rubs your back to help you fall asleep. Just friendly things.

Now we're brought to your current predicament.

"What're you doing..?" Oscar mumbles out in confusion as you begin to lift your head from where it rested on his chest. You freeze on the spot, peering up at him from below his chin.

"Uhm.. getting up?" You whisper for no real reason, suddenly feeling like a caught child. Oscars eyebrows furrow and he pushes your head back down while muttering a quiet yet firm 'no'.

"Wha- what do you mean 'no'?" You scoff, feeling more akin to an annoyed teen now. You go to lift yourself up properly but now his arms, previously wrapped around your waist and rubbing your back, are anchoring you down.

"Stay." He simply says, his eyes closing as he plans to return to his half asleep state. Those plans are interrupted as your hands wiggle down to tickle his sides. He yelps and releases you on instinct, which you take as a chance to launch out of bed.

"What are you doing??" Oscar groans, groggily sitting up now with a petulant pout. You return the question, hands on your hips as you stare at his sleepy form.

"I'm trying to cuddle my girlfriend." Oscar huffs, crossing his very muscular arms. Silence stretches between the two of you, making Oscar actually open his eyes fully to take in your extremely shocked expression.

"What's that look for?" He asks, reaching for your right hand in a need to hold some part of you. You let him as you're still trying to understand what exactly he just said and if he's on drugs.

"Girlfriend?" You choke out, your mind going a million miles per hour as you sputter, matching your racing heart. Oscar raises his eyebrow at you like you're an idiot.

".. Yes. You're my girlfriend? For quite some time now?" He chuckles, standing up now. His arms wrap back around your waist as he smiles fondly at you, you. Are you dreaming? Maybe your heart is giving out.

"Since uh, since when am I your girlfriend?" You stammer in disbelief, his expression shifting to mirror yours. His head tilts in confusion, squinting at you.

"Did you hit your head or something?" He murmurs, lifting a hand to jokingly check your scalp for any bumps. By this point you must be burning up with how warm you feel.

"We're not dating." You manage to get out finally, Oscars hand pausing mid caress. It slides down to cup your cheek, his mouth now downturned.

"Yeah we are- we've been together for months now." Oscar shrugs, squishing your face in his hands. He shakes your head side to side and you laugh, placing your hands over his as you ask what he's doing.

"Trying to shake those screws back into place." He teases, rolling his eyes.

"I think I should be doing that to you. You've never asked me out before, so where did this come from?" You chuckle, not able to feel that stressed in his presence and especially not when he's cradling you like you're a precious diamond. (Which to him, you are). Oscar laughs awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

".. I have to ask??" He mumbles, making you snort in laughter. Your head drops, forehead pressed to his shoulder as your own shake in silent giggles. Oscars face, neck, and ears are bright red at this point as he stammers, trying to save face.

"Yes! You have to ask! How did you even think otherwise?" You snicker, rolling your eyes affectionately at your oblivious boy. Oscar smiles in embarrassment, looking off to the side. Though it isn't long before his eyes are drawn back to the irresistible sight in front of him. You're practically glowing with an unrealized joy, your subconscious recognizing your returned feelings.

"I just assumed cause you- well-" He sighs, groaning at his own stupidity. A grin spreads across your face and you tap his cheek, bringing his focus out of his head.

".. I don't know." He finally admits, pout returning full force. It's a beautiful sight to see the typically stoic or calm Oscar looking so flustered, just for you. It sends a thrill down your spine that you're quickly becoming addicted to.

"We've never kissed or had sex, or honestly anything besides cuddling!" You exclaim, very glad to have such fantastic teasing and blackmail material that will last you years to come. Just wait until Lando finds out.

"I thought you wanted to take it slow, so I never initiated anything." Oscar explains, his cheeks a delicious shade of red. You have to take a moment to appreciate the sight and snap out of the daze it puts you in.

"Well how about you ask me out then now, hm?" You smile, pressing a kiss to his cheek that short circuits his brain and yours. The goofiest grin spreads across his face and he drops to one knee, grasping your hand in his.

"Will you, my dearest love, do the honor of allowing me to be your boyfriend?" Oscar asks dramatically, taking a moment to swoon. Seeing him at such an angle, regardless of his stupidity, you still need to drink in the sight of the brunette boy on his knees. For you. Asking you out after years of pining.

God it is beautiful.

"Hmm.. yeah, sure." You shrug, feigning nonchalance even though you're internally squealing. Oscar stands up, putting his hands on his hips in a sassy display. He grins, a mischievous grin which you quickly realize is not something you wanna see.

"Oscar no-" Your sentence barely gets out before you're tackled on the bed, face being peppered by soft kisses. It tickles, giggles erupting from your lips as he murmurs incoherently against your skin. You're a mess of limbs, your leg is already going numb, and you've never been happier as your hands inch up to play with his hair.

"You're missing." You manage to say in between giggles and over the top kissing noises from the boy on top of you. He finally relents, holding himself up on his forearm beside your head.

"Oh really? Wanna show me where to go?" Oscar murmurs, his breath fanning across your awaiting lips. You mumble some teasing jab about boys always needing directions, making him tickle your sides to shut you up.

"Okay, okay I give up!" You laugh, pushing at his hand. He stops tickling you and as soon as you've caught your breath, his lips are on yours. They're warm, slightly chapped, and oh so perfect. He kisses like you're the finest food on Earth and it's his last meal. Both of your heads feel fuzzy as you pull away for some air, noses bumping and mutual giggles filling the silence.

"So.. wanna go back to sleep?" You suggest, the very short yet aggressive emotional rollercoaster exhausting you once more. Oscar nods eagerly, head collapsing to rest in your neck where he occasionally kisses the skin his lips can reach. A warm feeling spreads over you as you tug the blanket across your tangled bodies, dozing off into the most restful sleep of your life.

[nikkeora]

just saw this video of a huge dog biting his human's leg bc he’s just excited and wants to play and uhhh

thinking about the huge, fluffy, puppy of a werewolf that is jason todd.

now, to be clear; fully turned werewolves are usually smaller as a canine than their human selves. most clock out at around the size of an eastern timber wolf, with the tallest ones reaching up to 6 feet in length.

but werewolf!jason todd was brought back from the brink of death using a supernatural puddle of water.

the same puddle that made him come back just a little bit.. unconventional.

werewolf!jason todd who, fully turned, measures in at a full 7 feet in length and then some.

werewolf!jason todd who is about the size of a huge timber wolf, somehow bigger than his human self.

his paws are big with almost owl-like sharp claws you sometimes trim when he just wants to cuddle and they get in the way. your hand doesn’t even cover half of the space between his ears when you pet him (something he not so begrudgingly enjoys after the first couple times). his fangs are almost as long as your fingers, and he has to be careful his tail doesn’t accidentally bludgeon you or any unsuspecting furniture when it inevitably starts to wag at the sight of you.

werewolf!jason todd who always stays inside during the full moon, because as much as gotham has an unusually high percentage of creatures living among the human population, the criminals don’t need to know that red hood is a werewolf. there are only so many in the city; it’s a potential clue about his identity that might lead to you being in danger.

werewolf!jason todd who initially absolutely refused to spend the full moon at home the first few months of you dating, not wanting to hurt you. yeah, he was sort of in control when he’s full dog. key words: sort of. he can’t take that risk.

werewolf!jason todd who, when you finally convince him he won’t hurt you and you trust him and you just wish he would stay home, caves. as he always does for you. after he gets a taste of what being around you fully turned is like, he never wants to miss the opportunity again.

werewolf!jason todd who goes crazy at your scent. especially when he’s turned. yeah, he loves your scent as a human, but the full moon maxes out his senses and suddenly he’s just so overwhelmed by the scent of you. not the perfume you wear or the shampoo in the bathroom of your shared apartment, just.. you. your natural scent. he nearly salivates as he insistently nudges at your throat with his nose, letting out a little whine when you laugh, complaining it tickles, and settles for resting his head on your chest instead.

(he hides your perfume for a while after turning back, wanting to catch your natural scent easier now that his senses are a little more dull.)

werewolf!jason todd who bites down very, very gently on your whole thigh when he gets a little too excited or overwhelmed. it does not matter how thick your thigh is, he is massive and his jaws will fit around your leg.

the first time it happened, it was an accident. he was growing restless, pacing a small parameter around you, body feeling like his skin was buzzing at every new sound and smell that he unfortunately picked up. and you were just sitting there. in shorts. thighs squished against the couch cushions.

slowly, he stalked over and sat on the ground in front of you. he rested his head on your lap like he often does and you thought that was the end of it. your hand was going to run through his fur when his head tilted, jaws slowly opening.

it was a small bite at first; his fangs scraped your skin so lightly it only tickled. then his mouth opened wider and before either of you knew it, your whole thigh had fit in his mouth.

jason, just as surprised as you, didn’t pull away. he can be soft mouthed, he always is when it comes to you. your flesh gives way just a slightest bit under his teeth and suddenly the sounds and colors and smells aren’t as bothersome anymore.

plus, he just really, really likes the feeling.

werewolf!jason todd who, after he gets comfortable around you when he’s fully turned, will act like a literal lap dog. is he not, in fact, tiny enough that putting his full weight on you won’t have actual consequences for your circulation? no, no he is not. does he care? absolutely the fuck no. he will crush you with all 260 pounds of fluff. resting his head on your lap when you’re on the couch? he never misses the chance. literally lying on top of you when you both turn in for the night? the moment he settles down you will have the air squeezed from your lungs, good luck. he’s not totally unreasonable though, he wants you to be comfortable, too. he will shift and turn until he finds an angle that’s just right for the both of you.

werewolf!jason todd who holds you so close after every full moon because turning hurts. it’s hard for you both because you’re in pain watching him in pain, unable to do anything about it.

werewolf!jason todd who will build you a whole nest when you’e feeling sick, letting you hoard all the soft blankets and pillows and hoodies while he makes soup by the pot full.

werewolf!jason todd who’s still bitey even when he’s human. he will still bite your thighs, even if he can’t fit them all anymore, your fingers, shoulders, collarbones… he allows himself just a little more force when he doesn’t have a whole mouth full of pointy fangs, loving the slight indent he leaves behind.

werewolf!jason todd who loves loves loves it when you mark him back in any way possible. and it’s really any way possible. bite marks, lipstick stains, scratches, everything, because as long as it comes from you, he knows it’s because you love him.

werewolf!jason todd who takes your stuff as an ‘emergency stash’ of your scent in case he’s ever unable to be near you for some time. hair ties, necklaces, bracelets, even clothes that are compact enough to fold and keep in his jacket pocket. he plays with whatever object of yours is on his person, wishing you were there next to him. but for now, he’ll tuck his nose against the hair tie on his wrist, just waiting until he can finally go home.

[jeizet]

Ichihime week Chibis!

I loved the drawing i made, and i wanted to try a new chibi style so... HAVE A BUNCH OF CHIBIS!!

Day 1 chibis!

Before Ichigo had to leave they were watching cat videos in bed (very platonically, it was just very cold)

Day 2 chibis!

Ichigo ended up ruining the foot battle by starting a tickle war!!

Day 3 chibis!

Orihime's outfit has patterns of all of her Rikka flowers, except Shun-no, he is representes by the pearly green accessory

Day 4 chibis!

Even with the gloves, Orihime ended up getting a little burned so they both are resting in the river

Day 5 chibis!

Ichigo got a gift with a custom helmet for Orihime since they ride on his bike often and the fans know. She nearly died until he clarified that someone gave it to him for her... sightly dissapointing

Day 6 chibis!

When Ichigo died, he went to the soul king palace to work with them and prepare to become the Soul King... Orihime on her side was appointed to help in the squad 4 and learn kido. Ichigo lives in the Seireitei with Orihime.

Orihime makes a joke once about Ichigo technically being single again since their vows were "till death do us part" and Ichigo took it incredibly bad, prepared a date and asked her to marry him again.

Day 7 not chibis!

Just wanted more Kazui!

[saeist]

a/n: another ua student!touya ft. hawks and mirko as his classmates!! + basing this "long eyelashes" debacle from the fact his eyelids are a little thicker than todoroki's + it's canon that he has long lower eyelashes since it's prominent when he was young lol

"i'm jealous"

you casually drop a bomb on touya, who was currently in the kitchen eating piping hot udon.

touya's eyes widens, ultimately choking on his food. like you just didn't witness him knocking on death's door, you casually slid to the seat next to him, watching him just choke there

"being jealous is one thing, but not helping your poor boyfriend who's choking? that's a little overkill don't you think?!" touya exclaims, after regaining his own composure

instead of answering, you shrug, staring at the now pouting boy beside you

"i'm not a mind reader you know?" touya points out, catching your gaze. it's making him a little uncomfortable being put on the spot like this. last time he checked, he didn't even look at another girls direction! so what could have made you jealous?

"..."

the way you were just staring at him in silence is making him uneasy. it's almost like you were making him admit to something he didn't even do

touya racks his brain for any close encounter he had with any female today during class. maybe he accidentally brushed hands with a classmate earlier today, maybe he bumped shoulders with a third year student back at lunch rush, maybe he made eye contact with another girl for a split second on accident when he was scanning the hallways for you

his mind ends up dating back at lunch where you two were having lunch with your two other friends being keigo and rumi

wait a second.. could it be rumi?

"is it rumi? but i thought you two were best friends so you were cool with us messing around with chicken little back there at the cafeteria? if it is rumi then i'll try not to interact with her that much if it makes you jealous, i'm sorry, doll. forgive me" touya rambles, suddenly getting on his knees and bowing down to (almost) kiss your feet

your eyebrows shot up at the mention of your best friend

"what are you rambling about? of course not! i'm not jealous over her, dummy" you finally break your silence. "i'm talking about your eyelashes"

touya's eyes widened once again. he slowly rises from your feet to shoot you a dirty look. did you really just make him kneel and kiss your feet over the thought of you being jealous over someone else when you were just jealous of his eyelashes all along?

"run that by me one more time?" touya puts his hands on his hips

you let out a fit of giggles watching his now irritated face.

"i'm jealous of your long eyelashes, touya" you grin, standing up to reach his face, cupping his cheeks as you run your thumb against his eyes

touya's eyes flutters shut, letting you touch his face this up close and personal. he won't admit it out loud but it tickles when your thumbs run through his long lower lashes

but the way his face scrunches says otherwise

"it tickles, doesn't it?" you giggle

"no? who said that?" touya denies, turning his head away to hide the impending blush that's rapidly spreading across his cheek

you can feel the cuteness aggression rushing in. you turn his head to force him to look at you. you squeeze his cheeks as you lean in until..

"if you're gonna suck faces could you guys at least do it in the privacy of your dorm rooms? ever heard of that?" keigo casually walks in with rumi on tow

"yuck" rumi gags, skipping past the two of you to get a carrot from the fridge

"i suggest you two get the fuck out of here unless you want roasted chicken and rabbit for dinner" touya growls, (softly) prying your hands off his face as he glares at his two best friends who were now running away while laughing

"so, doll.. where were we?" touya smiles softly, acting like he didn't just threaten his friends just a second ago

[sshiostwordblog]

I'm itching to draw tickle art of casper from a date with death but I know I'd get clocked and found immediately there's like no art of him

[lillymmb]

-"How old is she?" RAFE CAMERON X READER

(open requests)

part 2!

paring: rafe cameron x reader

warning: none

summary: you and rafe were friends since birth, you two fell in love but he cheated on you and you went away and never went to outer banks but your mother died and you went to her funeral but you didn't knew rafe and his family would be there.

Going back to Outer Banks was not a good idea and i knew it, but with my mother's death I knew I had to go, my father was in pieces so was I. I look at my one year old daughter sleeping in the back of my car, "I hope I don't see him" i think.

Me and Rafe were childhood friends since ever and 4 years ago when we started dating I knew he was the love of my life, but I was wrong, I can still remember Sofia kissing him and he hugging her:

1 year ago I was going to tell him about the pregnancy but when I saw them my heart broke and I just left Outer Banks without looking back. Had Charlotte in New York, my parents knew but I made them promise to don't talk about her to anyone.

I was not alone, I had friends in New York, I had a job at my dad's company, but the most important thing I had Charlotte. She is just like him, her strong blue eyes, her blonde hair just as soft as his, she had a strong personality just like him, it was his copy, my little chunk of my love with him.

When I got home, everything looked the same, nothing had ever changed. My father wasn't home and I soon went into my old room, I saw polaroids of Rafe and me on the wall, the presents he had given me, it looked like I had never left, everything was clean and the bed was as messy as the day I decided to leave the city behind with a baby.

Charlotte looked at the room with precision for a 1 year old baby, this year on her first birthday we came here at night to have dinner with my parents and we left early in the morning so there was no risk of Rafe knowing I had been there.

"Mama" She pointed to a teddy bear that I had gotten from Rafe on our second anniversary. I gave the bear to her, watching her reaction. My little girl hugged the bear and started laughing.

"How are you so cute" I started tickling her belly, her laughter filled the room with joy.

"Here are my girls" I looked back and my dad was leaning against the door frame with a smile despite his tired looking eyes.

"Bubu" she ran towards him and hugged his leg tightly, my father picked her up with a sad smile on his face "Hello my love" he said to her.

"The burial will be tomorrow morning" he said with a soft voice.

I nodded in agreement and we soon went to dinner.

In my dream, Rafe laughed with me in my room, "If we have a daughter, her name will be Charlotte." He said looking at my eyes

"Why that name?"

"I don't know, love, I just like it." And he hugged me softly.

I woke up confused with my daughter in the crib next to me.

The route to the funeral was silent, I just thought about how I wished my mother was here. She was very sick and cancer took her from us, my father said that at least he had ended her suffering and pain during those years.

I got out of the car with Charlotte and her teddy bear by my side, her dress was black with a big bow on her side and I was with the same dress. There were few people at the funeral but since my mother was a pogue there were many of her pogue friends and I saw John B's group right at the top of the stairs JJ looked at me and smiled. The day was beautiful but it seemed unfair because my mother had died but I knew that the weather was a message from her telling me that she was okay.

My father picked Charlotte up and they went in first and I was just working up the courage to go in while praying not to see him. The crowd had already left and I started to enter the house near the beach where my mother's funeral would be.

Until someone bumped into me, I knew that scent but I didn't want to believe it, there it was. Rafe was wearing a black suit, his eyes got bigger when he saw me and he seemed to want to say something but he couldn't, he was in complete shock to see me after 1 year without news.

"Um-oh hi-" he was interrupted by my daughter screaming mommy when she saw me, Charlotte asked to be held by me and I picked her up. Rafe looked at her holding the teddy bear with confusion, his head turned to the side and so did my daughter's, they looked at each other as if in a mirror.

"Mama" my daughter tried to go to rafe's lap who was in complete shock.

"Charlotte no baby you can't" when he heard his name rafe he felt like he was going to faint

"Charlotte? wh-who is this?"

I had thought about this conversation for a long time but nothing came out of my mouth, I always thought that I could call Rafe and tell him everything and we could become a happy family like we dreamed of but I couldn't say anything.

"Rafe, c'mon your sister is asking about you-oh hi" There she was, Sofia look at me with disgust and confusion, but when she saw the baby in my arms she just looked at Rafe looking for some answer as to who that was.

"How old is she?" Rafe asked with a weak voice and tears in his eyes, I could tell he knew the answer but wanted to hear it from me. Before I could answer, my father appeared in the hall and understood what was happening.

"Where were you, let's go is going to start" My father grabbed my hand and took me while I was in complete shock and Charlotte was crying wanting to go to Rafe's arms.

I just walked away and left a confused Rafe with his eyes closed as if he was holding himself back from crying.

"Fuck" was the only thing that crossed my mind.

part 2? I had this idea on the subway on the way to school and i had to write it! let me know if you guys want pt 2💞

[nymphea0]

Until Death My love

Part 2.

Yandere husband x Wife Reader

Very long story, might be bad grammar or language in this story, so please correct me if theres any bad word or bad grammar. This story will came out with 4 chapter , so stay always love🦋🦋

word count around : 2000 words

Story Part 1 : Until Death My love

Story Part 3 : Until Death My Love

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The sound of many vehicles and street lights were the only things that decorated the darkness of the night' You don't know how it could end like this, there are so many moments that you have gone through with Alex, your beloved husband.

It shouldn't be like this, but it happened so fast.

That night as usual, you became an obedient and very good wife waiting for your husband to come home from work, you prepared dinner that you cooked yourself, even though the servants really wanted to help you cook, that night you were very stubborn and made several dishes such as shrimp pasta alfredo, and roast chicken.

You waited as usual in the dining room, like the nights you had gone through before. But that night, Alex came home early in the morning, your husband came home a little later than usual.

You looked at the street with a sad face and remembered what had happened to you before, that day you learned another secret from your husband, alexandrovic Reigent.

You learned that Alex was the leader of the mafia association, the same association, that destroyed the place where you worked as a staff of a famous restaurant. You think that Alex is an ordinary man that you dated during school, you spent your days so happily with Alex, then you graduated from school and continued to college, you and Alex even studied in the same place with different majors.

Then you graduated with mediocre grades, until Alex said he wanted to build a business in the mining sector.

At first you didn't think that Alex's business would be very successful, but you were very happy with the success of Alex's business. Until one day Alex proposed to you to be his wife, right when it was your birthday.

That day you felt like the happiest woman in the world. .

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'Date 05 01 19xx'

That was the day Alex went on his business trip as a CEO of a company that handles coal affairs. Like a normal day you prepared your husband's clothes, helped him put on his shirt.

"Alex how long will you be away on business?"

"Love ...I won't be gone for long, just 5 days .... hmmm? Do you miss me already?"

Your husband, Alex, coquettishly pouted at you who was busy tidying up his work needs.

"No, I don't miss you."

In a playful tone you answered Alex who seemed ready to tickle you.

That morning was filled with laughter and happiness flowing in the residence you shared with Alex. .

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That afternoon was very boring without Alex, your husband for the next 5 days, at that time you for some reason really wanted to clean the room where Alex worked.

Alex's work room. As usual the servants at home really didn't want you to work, they looked as if they were afraid of something wrong with you.

Until you forced them and they had no other choice but to let you do what you wanted, well who would dare try to stop the wife of the Reigent house?.

Carrying a broom and cleaning equipment, you opened the door to Alex's work room, the room had a luxurious impression as Alex's job as a CEO of a coal company.

A room polished with African black wood, walls that are added with furniture such as classic lamps, lots of bookshelves and a document shelf.

A small pantry table that provides coffee and tea editing tools when Alex wants to drink something.

A polished work desk with additional high-quality marble with additional computers and also some documents scattered on the desk.

In short, this room is very comfortable and has a distinctive Alex smell, a blend of mint and a little musk aroma.

At first you tidy up and clean the desk where Alex works. Until you clean the bookshelf where Alex keeps books containing world history.

You clean the bookshelf carefully, rearranging the books. Each bookshelf is given a little space between 1 bookshelf and another, with the placement of a flower pot and also a classic lamp on the wall as a divider between shelves 1 and the others.

But when you were about to go to another shelf that you were going to clean next, your feet accidentally slipped between the black carpet that was the base of the shelf, with human instinct you held onto anything so that you wouldn't fall or get hurt, expert at holding bookshelves, you actually held onto the handle of a classic lamp that was quite low and you could reach.

With strong pressure you held the lamp, unfortunately when you thought it wouldn't fall, the chandelier was actually pulled down as you were going to fall, and you ended up falling with the wooden lamp that looked bent downwards.

After standing up and getting rid of the pain from the fall, you tried to fix the lamp to its original position.

But before you could even fix the poor lamp, you realized that the bookshelf you had previously cleaned was slightly tilted from the wall and showed a small gap, out of curiosity you tried to pull the bookshelf.

And there you see a small room with an area and size of 2 footsteps, the room is empty with 3 walls covered in black wallpaper and only lit by 1 lamp on the wall, on the floor there is a round carpet the same color as the walls in the room.

You think, what is this narrow room built for?, with slow steps you enter the room, trying to feel the walls but nothing happens. At that time when you think maybe this small room was built to store Alex's useless files.

When you was about to get out of the small room, my feet accidentally tripped over a lump protruding from the black carpet. Get up slowly and stand up, you try to push the carpet out of the room.

At that time, instead of the floor you saw, you saw a wooden door that was attached to the floor. Looking around, you exit the room and walk slowly towards Alex's study door, then with one turn, you lock Alex's study from the inside and walk back into the room.

Making up your mind, you open the wooden door, it's a little hard to open, but finally the door opens and reveals a staircase leading down, you don't see anything, it's very dark down there.

A dark basement!

When you look around the bottom of the stairs, you see a small light switch that is integrated into the wall right on the first step.

With a 'Click' a light shines under the room, holding a broom, you go down the stairs. Every step you take on the stairs creates a very unpleasant sound to hear.

Until the last step, you can clearly see this basement.

This room is very classic but looks luxurious. There are leather sofas lined up around a glass table, there is a bar table and also a billiard table, there is a television with a wide and thin screen and is very luxurious which is displayed facing the leather sofa.

Slowly you look around and realize that there are many shelves for storing wine bottles and other liquor, you always knew that Alex really liked alcohol beyond your expectations, but you didn't know that this room even existed in this house.

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The house where you and Alex live, a 3-story house, with a very large front and back yard, equipped with flower gardens and also a small lake that flows behind your house.

During the 2 years of your marriage with Alex, you didn't know that this room existed.

Walking through this basement, you see about 3 gold and black framed picture displayed on the wall, approaching the picture.

The first picture , is a picture of you and Alex who have just finished their wedding, in the picture you are very beautiful and beautiful, sitting smiling happily while holding a bouquet of flowers, while Alex stands behind you while holding your left shoulder, Alex is wearing a black shirt combined with a collar decoration and also a gold hanger on his jacket pocket which is united with roses.

Under the picture is your name and Alex's name and the date you got married.

Picture of alex and his family wearing all black suits, you don't know much about alex's family.

But when you married alex, only his mother and father came, you don't know why his other family didn't come, alex only told you that his other family was anti-social, and after that you didn't ask much.

On the wedding day, his father and mother didn't talk to you, but you only got a soft smile from his mother and a cold stare from his father.

In the picture there are so many people you don't know, they all sit in rows on the benches, but there's something strange, there are several women sitting on their knees below among several men you don't know. Then you see alex and his mother and father sitting in the right row that doesn't blend with the middle row, there you can see alex with an unfriendly and expressionless face, a facial expression that you didn't even know alex could make.

Under the frame, there is a bold text that contains.

'ARCEINT REIGENT FAMILY'

You don't think much and just guess that Arceint is Alex's extended family name.

Then, the last frame is a picture of Alex and his parents, and 4 people you don't know, they each sit on a bench, while the 4 people you don't know, 2 of them are men and they sit on a bench, but the other 2 are women, and they kneel beside the seats of the 2 men.

Blinking slowly, under the frame contains the name Alexandrovic Reigent Arceint, followed by Alex's father, Rovalnov Reigent Arceint, then Alex's mother, Ilvanna Rosye.

And the names of the 2 men whose names you are not sure which one is correct are Xirent Reigent Arceint, then the other one is William Reigent Arceint.

You can only guess that maybe these 2 people are Alex's older or younger siblings. Since dating and getting married, Alex has been very secretive about his family.

Looking at the other names there are 2 other names written there, you guess it is the name of 2 women who are sitting on their knees side by side.

The names there are written as, Lilya Ergevan, and also Belleriya Woods.

You think that why their names seem so beautiful and elegant?

Looking around the room again, you think to continue cleaning up Alex's work room that was delayed and only conclude that this basement room could be a room where Alex relaxes when he misses his family.

Just as you are about to step on a step, your eyes accidentally catch a corner of the room that is quite dark, and there is a white door in the corner.

People used to say, curiosity can be your death, so be careful.

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*Source image : Pinterest

©️Nymphea0 2024 , OG story . Project Dark Romance Story 1.

Please dont steal my work, or use without my permissions , Always be good people Dear. Much love , Neva🦋🦋.

@snowflakes666

[fanfic-she-wrote]

Dating Beetlejuice would include:

Him being utterly devoted to you

Beetlejuice being a little shy during your first kiss

He never usually is, but you’re different

He likes that your strange and unusual

You understand each other

Him secretly being surprised that you would want him, a dead guy

Accidentally calling out his name three times and making him disappear while doing the deed at least once

Cuddling on the couch while watching tv

He will do anything to make you laugh

Literally anything even at his expense

Him being surprisingly thoughtful and supportive

Loving how he looks in his striped suit

Hope you like Italian

Him making the best pasta and meatballs you’ve ever tasted

Playing with his messy hair which he is secretly fussy about

“Don’t flatten it out babe! It takes a lot of work to make it look this way.”

He’s one of those people that if he finds a pretty rock he’ll give it to you

When he’s feeling a little frisky, he’ll whisper inappropriate jokes to you and tickle you

Dancing in mid air to some of your favorite songs

Beetlejuice making life a living hell for those who have wronged you in some way (like a crappy relative or a coworker)

“There are things worse than death toots, and I’m gonna make sure they know it.”

Late night walks through the cemetery, holding hands

Hearing him talk about all his experiences over the years

That’s all I have for now. Feel free to add on. Hope you like it!

[catiuskaa]

*cough cough* no, me kisses.

SUMMARY: he may have lost his opportunity to ask you to become official, but boyfriend or not, there’s only one thing Hannie wants needs: your kisses. All over his face. Right now.

WC: exactly 1.3k baby!

CW: it’s too fluff!! ahhh!! (scared) lol, mentions of the usual sick thingies like headaches and mucus (ew!), mentions of lipstick stains (because YES), use of petnames.

REQUESTED! by pookie dookie @4ln-stay8 right here. I owed you one for reading my angsty fics, so I gave my best with this one. tysm for your support, my love! <3

A/N: inspired on the jeekies bc this singlehandedly changed my brain chemistry (melts n giggles)

[☆★🧣★☆]

Jisung wanted to groan.

Meanwhile, you only wanted to giggle and take millions of pictures of him.

What for? Well, first of all, little Hannie was cutely hiding under his duvet.

Only Jisung’s big boba eyes blinked repeatedly as he sniffed, not because he was crying, but because the poor little thing couldn’t even smell anything. He kept the half down of his face under the blankets of his bed, as he surely knew he was blushing due to you being in his room.

He hadn’t been expecting you, and he wanted to groan and put on a tantrum —or however you use that word in a sentence— because you had to be there at that moment.

“Aw, Sunggie,” you melted at the sight of him, holding back the need to coo and pet him and treat him the small and cute hamster he so was. “Lix called,” you clarified with a toothy grin. “He said you were sick, and buzzed me in before he left.”

Jisung made a note to himself to remember to tickle Felix to death for that.

There was one thing he wanted, and while it was you the one who could give it to him, he felt quite shy from asking, as far as refraining from doing so just yet.

Because it was not like you two were dating officially. Yes, the big, fat crush he had on you was as obvious as shit, to put it in elegant words, but he hadn’t asked you yet.

He was going to ask you, but he got sick.

And that one thing he wanted from you was your sweet pouty lips peppering kisses all over his face.

You sat next to him, and sheepishly shook your head. “Let me tidy up this place for you and bring you some medicine and more tissues, yeah?”

Your voice felt soothing, he wanted to use it as a blanket and stay wrapped in it for the rest of the week.

His heart sent more blood to his cheeks. As if there wasn’t enough, he thought with a huff, big eyes watching your movements as you picked a plate that had been left there since the night before and started picking up the used tissues from the floor.

“…hi…” Jisung mumbled, his voice hoarse and his throat dry.

Was he sick? Sure. I mean, his head hurt, his eyelids felt heavy, his nose was runny and he had surely filled the floor of his room and a decent part of his bed with used tissues.

But despite all that, the thing he wanted the most was to cuddle you to his hearts content.

“Hi, gorgeous,” you snickered softly, and he couldn’t help but smile with you. “Want some water too?”

He coughed in response, and you giggled. He cracked his knuckles underneath the bed sheet, his hands tingling, wanting to take you by your shoulders and hug you like a boa constrictor.

“Guess we have to cancel for tonight,” you mumbled with a small smile, your hand tenderly stroking his hair away from his forehead. “I’ll go leave my coat and bag in the living room and I’ll come back, yeah?”

He pouted without realizing. “Mmhhh…” he hummed with a small frown, almost like a whine.

You were about to mumble a soft ‘what’s wrong?’ before he shoved the covers away from his face as he gingerly raised his hand to grab your wrist and settled your palm back on his forehead. He sighed in small relief, melting into the coldness that lingered in you from being outside.

“Headache?” You said almost in a whisper, hearing the butterflies’ wings going crazy in your stomach.

He nodded. If he had been a cat, he would be purring, even if your hand had already turned warm against his skin.

“C’mon, Jisung-a,” your voice felt even softer than before. “I’ll come back before you know it.”

He sniffed. “…you will…?”

Your heart crushed, unable to handle how cute Han looked. It was too much, so much that even the butterflies in your stomach started to have their own butterflies in their stomachs.

And with a smile, you moved your hand to his cheek and planted a shy tender kiss on his forehead.

“I will. Pinky promise.” You chuckled softly, a blush slowly creeping up to your cheeks.

His eyes widened, and his heart skipped a beat.

Oh, no. Now he knew what one of your small kisses felt like.

Now you couldn’t leave. Not before… oh.

He grinned slyly, making you raise your eyebrows, wondering what could he be thinking in that cute little head of his.

“…we’ll… make a deal…” he stated as firmly as he could.

You shrugged lightly, secretly enjoying the faint pink hue of your lipstick that had stained his forehead.

“Sure, Hannie.” Your smile only made the fact that you’d leave for, like, ten minutes —or God, maybe even more— feel a lot worse.

“I… want… more of those…” he blushed deeply.

“More of those?”

He took your hand and covered his eyes with it.

“I want more kisses.” He sniffed again.

Your mouth quickly formed the shape of an ‘o’, as your blush quickly turned a deeper shade of red, as if to compete against his.

You giggled, moving your hand from his face.

“You want my kisses, jagi?” You teased with a smirk.

He felt his heart going crazy in him, a tight feeling in his chest that turned his ears red.

“Aww, but aren’t you too sick for that?”

Oh, no.

You weren’t just going to give him a small kiss and then not continue all morning and all evening… right?

That couldn’t be allowed. Was it? He tsked at the thought. He had to make sure it wasn’t.

He coughed, pouting.

“No.” He coughed again. “Me. Kisses.” He sniffed. “Now.”

You laughed loudly, a sort of laugh that went right in Han’s little heart and filled it up with energy. He didn��t feel that gloomy sensation that being sick could cast over someone.

Instead, he squinted at you playfully.

“You have ten minutes, missy.” He said, already looking much better, emotionally wise at least. “Or else.”

You giggled, sheepishly pecking the corner of his lips.

"You can set up a timer, you cheeky idiot."

He moved his hand to his heart in an overly dramatic gesture that made you cackle, as he chuckled too, trying to ignore how fast his heartbeat felt under his hand.

Nine minutes and forty three seconds later —forty four, forty five...— you had settled a plastic bag next to his nightstand, had stolen a tissue box from the living room, and right now, you were smiling, walking one step in front of the other, carefully so to not spill over the soup you had made for him.

"It's amazing. You have to try it, I've outdone myself." You chuckled as he sat up on his bed, gingerly waiting. You left the tray on his crossed legs, moving his desk chair and nonchalantly taking a seat close to him.

"C'mon." You snickered. "Eat up." He finished it without a single complaint.

"Good boy." You teased, cackling loudly when you saw him blush.

"That's not fair," he mumbled with a pout.

"Scooch aside, Mr fairness."

You moved the pillows and laid next to him, shyly putting your arm below his neck, and then passed the other over his chest.

His face was practically in front of you.

"Hi." You grinned cheekily.

"...oh, h-hi." You giggled at his shyness. You hid the fact that you had reapplied your lipstick in the kitchen before bringing the soup, and started peppering soft kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, the corner of his mouth...

Oh, you were surely going to catch whatever he had.

[☆★🧣★☆]

~Kats, who doesn't understand why tumblr won't let her stack pictures when answering asks, reason why I post them separately, lol. Thanks for the request, gorgeous!

[chericherilvr]

summary: Soobin's love language is physical touch, and you just have to deal with it—at all cost. w/c: 526 warnings: cursing? clingy Soobin, just pure fluff author's note: I have to go rnrn, but I am so making the rest of the boy's love language. This comeback... this comeback killed me... I love summer songs...

Sometimes, people are destined to surprise us. You could know everything about someone, yet one day it all changes.

You still remember the times in which Soobin was shy. The soft glances after looking away. The small smiles, eyes following your every move, after you entered a room. That time a bet made you get ever so close to him with a teasing "do I make you nervous?" with him immediately breaking into a blushing mess—the guys still tease him about it to this day.

How could someone so confident on stage, be so shy outside of it.

And how could that same person now, months later, be the most shameless person you knew.

"Binnie, I can barely breathe"

Yet Soobin doesn't reply. Currently with your body under his, what was supposed to be a cute movie-cuddling date, turned into a call for help. It's summer for fuck's sake. And no amount of love could make you feel any less hot.

All day he had been following you around: The hand-holding while cooking—barely got to not burn something. The constant side hugs, back hugs, picking you up and spinning whenever he felt like it. He always had to have something touching you, knowing you were there.

"Soobin."

"I don't care." He mumbles from the crook of your neck—which his face is buried in. It tickles.

"Hope you like cuddling with a corpse if I can't soon get some water to hydrate" I say, although I allow my hand to go play with his hair.

"You'd be the cutest corpse"

"Not the compliment you think it is"

He whines and hugs you closer, tighter. Without a warning, he sits back up, pulling you up with him to stand. A gasp passes your lips, eyes widened before you realize he moved to hug you from behind.

"Go hydrate or whatever you humans do"

You shake your head slowly, and only take the first steps towards the kitchen after seconds of processing what was happening.

"Newsflash, you're human too, you need to hydrate or whatever"

"I am not," his whisper carasses your ears, "matter of a fact, all I need to be alive is this!" he pats the side of your hips.

The cups left on the kitchen counter are cold at touch, especially after filling them up with water. Gently, you tap on the hand wrapped around you, and try to pull it. He shakes his head.

"Water Soobin, drink water."

Sometimes, people are meant to surprise us. That way it keeps things interesting. Some people change out of their own will; for others a simple "Drink or no more cuddles" gets them out of your back for a couple seconds. The sight of Soobin is truly still adorable, even when he rushes to drink as if death was hovering above if he didn't.

You could always expect and await for someone to change, yet you know the people closest to you.

Just like how Soobin clung back to your after hydration. Just how you will always allow him to—no matter if you can't breathe. No matter if he stays there forever.

[dunyzs]

mentioning of death!! (still very fluffy though)

Satoru always had pity for the old. every time he thought about their frail and weak bones, their saggy skin, silver hair and horrendous hearing skills, he can only feel somewhat compassionate for the unfortunate.

it’s not like he himself will ever go through that, that’s what he told himself. he saw his death being something major, grand, and allowing your time spent living catching up to you is the opposite of that. and in most chances, most sorcerers don’t face their fate like that.

you knew this. ever since you first started dating the man he always reminded you to welcome in the angel with long dark wings knocking on your door with a smile, not a slap. always telling you to not allow the roses thrones prick your finger as you placed them on his grave, because they’ll prick your heart the same way.

it’s hard to digest that. it’s hard to not think about it when you while you cuddle up with your now husband, his head peacefully resting on your chest as your fingers combed through such pure hair. your eyes scanned the way his face was buried right next to your heart, pulses syncing.

quickly though, that acknowledgment flutters away the moment something illuminates in your eyes. the sun that peeked through your bedrooms blinds shimmered directly on a piece of hair that didn’t match the rest.

it was silver.

it wasn’t like his normal pure white hair, it was darker. a smile grew on your face when you started ravaging through his head of hair, only welcomed by more and more strands on that exact colour.

for some reason, it makes you think about how much you have to scream his name for him to finally hear you. it makes you think about how more often he complains about his back, how he forces you to massage him and the room is filled with his giggles when you accidentally tickle him.

oh satoru, how silly he is to assume he’d never see the day your under eyes permanently wrinkle from how much he makes you laugh.

you lean down, leaving a tender kiss on the top of his head only to wake him up. his head sleepily shifts up facing you, his chin resting on your chest only to see your golden smile and eyes slightly watered.

“what’s wrong sweetheart?” he slightly shifts, leaving a kiss on your forehead making your smile only grow.

“nothing, go back to sleep silly.”

[swordsandholly]

Little Death

Incubus!Soap x fem fat reader | Ao3

NSFW | MDNI | cw: dubcon, noncon, drinking, biting, afab reader, blood, PiV sex, cunnilingus, anal, monsterfucking, size difference, kidnapping, dead dove

Word Count: 4.5k

You sit in your apartment on your worn out couch, sipping a glass of shitty gas station wine at some godforsaken hour in the morning. Just like you do nearly every night these days. Love Island plays loudly on the TV while you try to drown out the overbearing silence that seems to cling to you. It surrounds you at all times, everything just a little too quiet. A little too distant.

You knew getting divorced would be lonely. You didn’t expect it to be this bad.

Your eye connects with a piece of paper that’s been living on your side-of-the-road coffee table for the past… who knows at this point. The friend that gave it to you meant well. She intended it to be a funny, light hearted gesture. Instead, you just feel pathetic. The pitiable fat girl that can’t get a date. Not that she’d be wrong. Out of drunk boredom, or maybe sheer desperation, you grab the stupid cut out article. It’s some plasticky, cheap print with the title ‘How To Summon A Lover’ which is probably the laziest headline in the world for a supposed spell.

Are you lonely? The summary asks, Do you need some special company? Just follow these steps and get exactly what you’re looking for!

It’s stupid. It’s corny. Luckily - or unfortunately - you are just drunk enough to take part in stupid and corny. Your eyes graze over the materials list - paper, a red marker, a metal baking sheet, and a stick candle. Your brow scrunches. You suppose you can sacrifice one of your outdated, unused decor candles that sit on your mantle. You gather the supplies with clumsy, uneven steps.

Fuck your ex. Fuck him for making you this sad and pathetic. Fuck him for piling on the insecurity, for isolating you and taking nearly all your friend group. For all of it. You plop down on your rug, items in hand and thoughts swirling angrily.

Step 1: Place the paper on the baking sheet

Step 2: Draw a pentagram

You roll your eyes. Of fucking course it’s a pentagram. You do it, still.

Step 3: Write “I Light The Flame of Desire” on each side of the page

Step 4: Place the candle in the center of the paper

Step 5: Light the candle and concentrate on your intention until it burns out.

You regret picking up such a big candle.

When you wake your mouth is dry and your back aches. The sunlight offends your eyes when you attempt to crack them open. You must have fallen asleep on the floor at some point. You look down at the mess in front of you. The candle burnt the paper into almost nothing at some point. Thank god the article told you to put it on a baking sheet.

You feel so fucking stupid.

You stumble into the shower, allowing the hot water to help rouse you from your hungover, groggy state. That feeling of stupidity tickles the back of your mind. It’s not like you expected it to work - really, what’s making your heart twist and shame crawl up your back is the disappointment, is that it didn’t. At least you don’t have to work today. You don’t particularly feel like being around people. Not that you do the rest of the time.

As you turn to get out, fear strikes through you at a shadow in your periphery through the fogged shower glass. Just as soon as you see it, it disappears. You shrug it off, heart still thumping wildly as you towel off. Something in your gut churns as you do your best to get ready for the day. An unease that won’t leave as you make yourself at least appear like someone with their life together. A feeling that someone is watching makes your hair stand on end.

You send up a thank you to the universe that you managed to get up early enough to make it to the grocery store during quiet hours. While buckling your seatbelt, that shadow comes back. Right behind you, in the back seat. It’s gone as soon as you check the rearview mirror. You let out a shaky breath. It keeps happening. While you get your shopping cart, while you choose produce. Every time you turn an isle, it’s there. It sends shivers down your spine. Some black, effervescent shape that follows you worse than a shadow. That catches your eye even when you consciously try to ignore it. You really need to lay off the drinking.

As soon as you get home, you toss everything from the night before - including the baking sheet. Some superstitious part of you rears its head, telling you to walk the damn thing all the way to the outside dumpster rather than leave it to fester in your personal trash. You don’t believe in ghosts or spirits. You’re sure you just drank too much, that you slept strangely and it fucked with your head. That not speaking to anyone besides brief interactions with coworkers and customers for weeks on end has left you jumpy and off. Maybe you really should see that therapist your lawyer talked about. She’s expensive though, and not covered by your insurance…

You turn over another bottle of wine in your hand, wrinkling your nose. Not tonight. Not when you turn to put the bottle down and nearly jump into the ceiling at some shape moving to the living room from behind you. Only in your periphery, only vague images, leaving you uneasy. You toss and turn when you finally get into bed. It still feels like you’re being watched. Like there’s a camera just over your shoulder, or in the ceiling fan, staring down at you. For the first time since you were small, you bury yourself under the covers and screw your eyes shut, hoping it will save you from the monsters under your bed and in your head.

You stir at a weight dipping your bed. It’s slight, so slight you almost miss it entirely, until it isn’t. Until whatever it is moves again and you feel something brush over your legs. In a panic, still half asleep, you turn onto your back, fists flying through the air only to be caught by inhumanly large hands. You flail, kicking as a scream catches in your throat.

“Shh, sh, yer a’right.” A distinctly Scottish brogue coos, pinning you to the bed without so much as a grunt. You finally manage to open your eyes properly. He’s big - eyes a bright, unnatural blue with a wild light in them. When he grins at you it exposes long fangs where his normal canines should be. Two horns poke out from his head, the shorn sides of his haircut further exposing them. There’s an unnatural red tint to his skin, darkening to nearly pure crimson at the ends of his exposed limbs. A shiver runs down your spine.

“Wh- who the fuck are you?” You squeak, far less threatening than you might have liked.

The beast’s grin only widens. “Donnae ye know? Ye called me, after all.”

Your eyes widen to saucers as you stare up at him. Did- there’s no way that stupid spell worked! It was a cut out from a damn off-brand Cosmopolitan. It was stupid sleepover bullshit. It was - It’s wasn’t- You couldn’t have summoned a real, actual factual demon into your apartment. No, this has to be a prank or intruder or - or hallucination even.

You try to shove at his chest as soon as he retracts his hands, a weak attempt at escaping. Part of you expects to phase through him - to wake up in your quiet, dark bedroom. Except his hands are very much real and warm as they pin your wrists back against the mattress. The silhouette of massive wings block out the little bit of moonlight that might have otherwise drifted through the slit in your curtains. You can barely make him out, now. Those too-bright eyes glint like a cat’s as he stares down at you.

“Now, why did ye call me, little one?” He leans in, nose brushing against yours before ducking his head down to lick a long stripe up your neck.

Your face heats, mouth struggling to form words. “I… didn’t think it was real…”

“Tha’s not a reason.” Too-sharp teeth nip at the shell of your ear.

“I just… why do you want to know anyway?” You spit defensively, thrashing under him in a sudden burst of confidence - or desperation. You’re not sure. It does fuck-all for you, the beast pinning your thighs under his weight. A deep, warning growl rumbles in his chest. You freeze at the sound - some ancient instinct telling you to stop all action and pray it saves you.

“It’s no’ polite t’dodge my question, bonnie.”

You whimper involuntarily, his sharp teeth grazing the soft skin of your neck with just enough pressure to threaten a bite. The words tumble from your lips near incoherently, “I haven’t- I’ve only been with one person… for a long time. I’m nervous… about a second…”

He hums. Something brushes your shin - a tail, you think. You can’t make it out in the dark. “Whit’s yer name, doll?”

You blurt it, a little horrified at giving that information to some supernatural creature. For some reason you find yourself following it up with, “What’s yours?”

He laughs and mulls it over, jaw clenching briefly, as if he can’t make up his mind about what it is. “Call me Soap, aye?”

You snort despite yourself and he - Soap - quirks a brow. “Weird name for a demon.”

“Incubus.” He corrects.

You have half a mind to complain when he tears your nightgown off before you can react. The cloth rips fast, practically disintegrating in his rough hands. That’s until he climbs down the bed, taking one nipple between his lips and flicking the other. Your back arches, hands fisting the sheets. You let out an indignant ow when he bites down on the fat of your breast, leaving a mark just shy of drawing blood. Soap ignores it, continuing to lavish them with attention as he sees fit. Your thighs press together and you can’t help but squirm, becoming desperate for more in spite of the voice in your head telling you to run. He senses it, you think, moving down your body leaving nips and bites in his path before settling between your thighs. He takes your underwear off in much the same fashion, turning them to shreds in barely a moment. His wings disappear into the shadows - there but not simultaneously. Shifting in and out of your vison.

“Look a’ tha’.” He sighs. “Whit a pretty pussy. Cannae believe yer lettin’ her go unused.”

You whimper and attempt to close your legs, failing when those massive hands hook under your knees and push them up to your chest as far as they can go. His nails - near claws - dig into the flesh of your thighs. A gasp tumbles from your lips as his tongue drags through your folds. Soap places a light kiss your your clit before following with a harsh suck that leaves you twitching and whining. Part of you feels ashamed for enjoying this as much as you are - for lapping up the attention from this stranger like a starved dog - but it feels too unreal for you to really care. Too fictional to apply your real world morals or sensibilities.

You yelp in surprise when his tongue flicks over your back hole, causing him to chuckle and mutter, “Tha’s for later.”

He doesn’t leave you time to think on that promise. You throw your head back as he slips his tongue inside. Fuck, it’s deep. Unnaturally long - built to systematically pull pleasure from you just like the rest of him. You find yourself grinding down onto it despite yourself, pent up body giving into instinct and abandoning rational thought. You grab onto his stupid hair to further press him into you. He doesn’t seem to mind as a low guttural sound rumbles through his chest.

A thick finger circles your entrance, replacing his tongue in one swift motion. He doesn’t wait to add a second - the stretch causing you to hiss. His fingers are big. His proportions just on this side of incompatibly large. You wonder briefly, distantly, why his claw-nails aren’t hurting you. It’s hard to care much when the pad of a thick finger presses roughly against that spot that leaves you gasping. His lips wrap around your clit again, sloppily sucking and licking at the little bud as you careen closer and closer to the edge. Your back arches harshly, almost painfully, as you tumble over with a choked moan.

“So easy.” He chuckles. Your face gets hotter, an indignant pout forming on your lips. Rude. Your eyes drift over his body and, somehow for the first time tonight, you realize he’s already naked. Not a single piece of cloth in sight upon his arrival. You let yourself take in his strong torso, the thick dusting of hair from his chest all the way down to a healthy happy trail, down to-

“That’s not gonna fit!” You squeak, clumsily trying to back away. His cock hangs heavily between his legs; thick and veiny and already leaking. His hand on your sternum stops you in place. You’re sure he can feel the way your heart hammers away in your chest - practically beating against your ribcage. For a moment, you think you see sympathy in his eyes. Rather quickly you realize that warmth is, instead, hunger. An eagerness to swallow you whole dances across his sharp grin.

“We’ll make it fit.”

That’s all the warning you get before he’s bullying his cock inside you, inch by inch despite your shaky pleas to slow down. It burns, just crossing over the threshold into too much. Your teeth grind, a deep whine resonating in your throat. Your fingers claw at the sheets below you and your body jerks with odd shocks of pleasure and pain all tied up into one.

“Fuckin’ tight…” Soap groans.

“S’too much!” You practically sob, hips squirming to get away from the intrusion.

“Y’can take it.” His other hand grabs onto your waist to still you. You can’t stop the moan that forces its way past your lips as his hips meet yours.

You expect it to hurt when he fucks you - he doesn’t allow you time to adjust, each thrust practically punching the air from your lungs. Instead, it sends electricity up your spine. Your brows knit together, eyes screwed shut as warmth pools at the base of your spine. Soap hooks one of your legs around his hip, the other over his shoulder. You watch him through bleary eyes, the strange red of his hands contrasting with your natural, human skin. The way his hand nearly wraps around your thick calf. The way his core flexed with every thrust. The pleasured knot in his brow.

Soap lets your raised leg drop, pressing his weight down onto you and bracketing your head with his forearms. He smells so good - spices and trees. It invades your senses, leaving your mind somehow foggier than it already felt. He pulls you into a kiss. It’s not romantic, not emotional, just a searing exchange made up of messy teeth and tongue. He tastes like cinnamon. His fang catches your lip and copper coats your mouth. A light whine escapes him as he licks it up and sucks at the small wound.

“Please, please, please.” You pant rhythmically, chest heaving.

“Please, please, please.” He mocks, chuckling at your begging as he presses his thumb to your clit.

You practically seize, already overdone and so close to another. You’re babbling, you know that much, but the contents of your words are lost on you.

“Gonnae cum f’me?” Soap presses his nose to your temple. “Gonnae cum on this cock?”

You nod vigorously, nails leaving half-moons his strong shoulders. His thumb swirls your clit as he continues to spill filthy words into your ear. Things you’ve never thought of, otherworldly promises no man could keep, and groaned nonsense to match your own. Your climax slams into you. You practically howl, whole body shaking. Soap’s tongue drags up the side of your face, licking up sweat and tears. He’s not far behind, a growl rumbling through his chest; his hips stutter as he spills inside you.

You think, for a moment, as you desperately try to catch your breath, that it’s over. He’ll disappear off into the ether and you’ll wake up tomorrow from this strange dream. All of it a lonely, mentally unwell delusion that you can tell your therapist. After you book her. You really should if your brain is coming up with shit like this.

Except, he doesn’t stop. The slowed rocking of his hips immediately picks up again. He leans up, hands gripping your waist as you let out a long, keening whine. You try to shove at his hands, to kick your shaking legs. They’re clumsy. Weak and used and uncoordinated. The sweat on your palms leaves you slipping, unable to get a grip around his wrist. Soap just laughs - dark and unnatural. Far too entertained by your panic. A malicious spark lights his eyes as he stares down at you.

“S-soap!” You gasp, mind and body going into overdrive. “P-please! You don’t have to - you can - fuck - just stop!”

He laughs again, only speeding up - using the hold on your soft waist to fuck you back onto him. An anger flares up in you and you reel back, slapping your open palm against his face as hard as you can manage. It doesn’t do anything to deter him, his hips still slam full force into yours without so much as a stutter. His chuckle cuts off into a gravelly groan. “Do tha’ again.”

As much as you don’t want to give in to him, you do. You batter your fists against his chest, his arms, anywhere you can even slightly reach. You dig your nails into his hands. He just speeds up, lewd, wet sounds an loud slaps echoing in the room along with your moans and shouts. Soap pulls out just long enough for his arm to encircle your waist and flip you over as if you weigh nothing to him. You hardly get your bearings before he’s forcing his cock back in your cunt. His hands latch onto your hips so tightly you’re sure they’ll bruise, if not be crushed completely.

“Please! Fuck - Soap - please - st-” You choke out, barely able to lift your face out of the sheets to breathe. Your whole body tremors violently. You try to reach behind yourself for him - to get some purchase, but all you’re met with his a hand firmly planted between your shoulder blades to hold you in place.

“Whit? Ye think tha’ was all? Jus’ one round an’ yer done?” The beast condescends, voice rough. “Nae, we’ve go’ forever. Well, until yer body gives out, at least. Gonnae shove my cock down tha’ pretty throat next, I think.”

The hand still on your hip lets go. Gathering slick from between your thighs, Soap pushes his thumb against your back hole. You gasp and attempt to lurch forward, to get away, but it doesn’t work. You can’t move out from under the weight of him. You feel a glob of something land there, quickly realizing he spit on you just to gasp as his thumb pushes inside. Part of you hates that it feels good, hates the words spilling from his lips about your unused ass. The rest of you succumbs to the fullness as his thumb is replaced by a finger, then another, working you open.

You whimper, fear mixing with the ongoing growing pleasure in your gut. It’s all too much. You’re overstimulated, soft body bruised and exhausted. Filled to the brim. Soap drapes himself over you, removing his fingers with almost a pop, and sinking his sharp teeth into the crook of your neck. His arms bracket your head once again, nearly flattening your against the mattress underneath him. You cry out, tears streaming as you feel another climax approaching, your pussy drooling down your thighs.

Something deep in the back of your brain snap as you cum. You lose yourself to base instinct. The heat in the room and anger in your chest consumes you. The air burns as it enters your lungs, sparking and electrifying your skin. Your head turns, eyes locking on the strong forearm anchored just above you. On impulse you lurch up, sinking your teeth in as far as they’ll go. A dog with prey caught in it’s maw. Soap growls in your ear - deep and animalistic. His blood isn’t quite coppery, not like yours, it’s far too sweet. It only spurs you on, your fingers twisting so tightly in the sheets you hear threads pop. Your other hand reaches back to dig your nails into his upper arm, to scratch at wherever you can reach. The sounds tearing through your throat aren’t right. Aren’t human. His arm muffles them slightly, the grunts and growls becoming borderline screams as you cum again so soon.

Soap flips you again, tearing his arm away from you and planting his feet flat on the bed, using his inhuman strength to help bounce you on his lap. You snarl, nails digging into his pecs to draw more blood. It drips down your lips, onto your chest, it covers the pads of your fingers. It’s animal. You’re just an animal.

“There ye are.” He grins, eyes practically glowing.

You don’t think much of it, you can’t think at all, really. Not in words, or even images. Pure instinct drives every action, your nose flaring at the scent of sex and blood that’s filled the room. Your skin is feverish, limbs shaking. Frenzied. That’s the word. Frenzied and rabid as you reach for strength you don’t have an meet his thrusts.

The two of you keep going that way - for how long, you aren’t sure. At some point you end up on the floor, at another he holds you against the wall by your throat. At another you hear the bed frame crack in two. Claw marks and bruises litter your body - litter his, as well. He pushes his cock into your back hole, not caring about the minimal stretch. You don’t need lube, you’ve drenched the both of you enough. The last thing you’re conscious for is Soap moaning in your ear as your hands wrap around his horns, holding on with all you have as your lips meet.

When you wake, your body feels heavy. Buried under something - blankets, you think. Though, your blankets at home have never had this weight to them. It’s more than quilts - your fingers tentatively running over both the texture of soft cloths and thick furs. It feels luxury, buttery smooth under your touch. Briefly, you shut your eyes again, content to drift back into blackness out of this cozy dream.

When you do peek your eyes open, a shudder runs down your spine. This isn’t your apartment. You shoot up, looking around the odd bedroom. It’s strangely decorated. Modern but with hints of something more scattered about. The smooth, painted walls of a modern home and ornate, lit fireplace of a castle mixed with current and antique furniture alike. A large couch sits in front of the mantle with embroidered, thick blankets hanging over the back. There’s a cracked door that seems to lead into a walk in closet. The area rug covering the far half of the room is a rich emerald green embellished with flowing designs in various golds and darker tones. Drawings and random scrawl are pinned to the far wall. There’s an open sketchbook on top of an old, hardwood desk with similar designs carved into it as the mantle.

Panic begins to surge as you open the massive curtains on the wall opposite the mantle to reveal floor to ceiling windows. They’re heavy like tapestries. You realize quickly that two of the panels are sliding doors onto a balcony, though you hesitate to step out. It would only corner you further. The sky looks like fire - waves of clouds lit in orange and yellow hues. It moves to fast. Streams of flames twist and run across the sky, overtaking one another.

You swing open the only other door that doesn’t appear to be the main exit. All it leads to is a bathroom. Large and expensive but nothing abnormal. Except for your shampoo inside the shower upon further inspection. Memories flood you, the night before comes in flashes. Was it the night before? Time feels wrong. Everything feels wrong. You’re sore, eyes heavy and body weak. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, dressed in some gauzy, black floor-length thing that leaves little to the imagination.

Just as you exit the bathroom to look for somewhere else to hide or run, the main door opens. Soap steps in, adjusting the sleeve of his t-shirt. You freeze, as if he won’t see you as long as you’re still.

It doesn’t work, of course. Those bright eyes lock onto you, thick brows raising. “Bonnie? Yer up!”

He looks… different. Less demonic. Not that anything has visibly changed much besides the fact that he’s wearing actual clothes. He simply fits into the scenery better - the room made to accommodate him. You realize part of the strangeness of it is the furniture size; meant for someone much taller and wider than you. The light helps as well, defining the contours of his face that you couldn’t make out in the dark. You back away from him as he approaches, pressing yourself against the wall as tightly as you can.

“So glad yer up. Are ye hungry? I can-“

“Where am I?” You cut him off meekly, eyes darting around the room.

“Och, my home of course.” Soap grins as if that explains anything.

“Why?” It doesn’t come out like the demand you want it to, more like a plea. Your voice cracks and you can’t meet his eye.

He tilts his head, eyes watching you, raking over you from head to toe. A predator observing it’s prey - deciding how best to catch it. “Ye live here, now.”

“What?” You gasp, trying to back further into the wall as if you could phase through it should you just try hard enough. “No- no, please! You have to let me go home! I need to go home!”

Johnny shrugs far too casually for your liking. “A soft little thing like ye? Nae, think I’ll keep ye fer the time bein’. Never met someone who could keep up like ye can. Go’ a lot of pent up energy in there, hen.”

“I don’t-“

“Yer gonnae feed me fer years tae come.” He continues as if you didn’t say anything at all, “Besides, I’ve go’ some friends tha’ I think would like ye.”

[hollycherrybitch]

🍒 ~Boyfriend Cole brookstone headcanons

Mentions: Cole brookstone x reader, slight mention of Kai, nya, and jay, mentions of self hate.

Genres: Fluff and romantic

Author's note: OMFG, I love cole with all my heart and soul! He's like a dream guy for me<3 anyways, I hope you all enjoy this! I also take requests because I have nothing to do! So, don't be scared or hesitate to request, okay? Anyways, enjoy!~

~ 🍒 ~

🍒 I'd like to headcanon cole has a thing for physical affection.

🍒 HUGS is a must! This man, is a literal walking heater! Not as warm as Kai, but warm enough to the point you don't need a blanket!

🍒 Growing up with a musician of a father, he's also a fan of music!

🍒 Has a whole playlist of his favourite songs and artists! You'll be surprised if you find yours is also there as well.

🍒 I also headcanon that he has an S/o who loves to give physical affection!

🍒 Cole's s/o just walking by until they saw him playing video games. The look of confusion and surprise on his face would be so cute when he felt two arms wrapped themselves around him, Until he felt a chin resting on his head.

🍒 "Babe? What are you doing?" Tilting his back, his eyes met his s/o's, who in turn smiled sweetly and innocently. "What? Am I not allowed to hug my boyfriend?" The fake pout his s/o made definitely made him laugh slightly before shaking his head. "No, you are definitely allowed to!~" His game long forgotten, now having both of his arms around his s/o. His Face buried to the back of their hair, taking a whiff of his s/o's scent. Happily cuddling, with them in his hold.

🍒 Expect to be kissed on your forehead, cheeks, and hand everyday, everytime, and everywhere!This hunky of a man is as sweet as a mango peach pie and as gentle as a dancing feather <3

🍒 Don't even try tickling this son of a bitch, he can't be tickled! HE is immune to it! If you did try, he would give you a smug smirk before tackling you, tickling your sides until you laugh to death! (Not literally!)

🍒 I headcanon that he's an early bird in the morning. You can tell when he leaves his spot of your both shared bed. He only left the bed to go the bathroom for a minute, and the warm spot he was once in has become cold. Because of it, once he comes out of the bathroom to wake up you up, your already standing on your feet, one arm holding a pillow, while the other outstretched before wrapping it around him. Now, if it were the first time, he would be confused and surprised, but if you're relationship has already been in a bigger level then his reaction would be just a soft smile on his face before hugging you back, whispering a good morning to your ear, sending shivers down your spine. Which made you hope he didn't noticed. (He, unfortunately, did notice.)

🍒 You are not allowed to self hate now, Congratulations! This tall drink of water will never allow you!

🍒 He first found out about your self hate. Oh, honey, he is kissing the part of your body that you hate. Whispering loving words in each kiss. Don't even ask him why would he date you. He has an entire list of reasons that he's not scared to admit!

🍒 I headcanon he is quite oblivious. I don't know why but I just headcanon him that he is.

🍒 A fan for PDA but also not. You cannot change my mind.

🍒 Holding hands is also a must! This poor big baby needs to hold your hand! If your a ninja like him, then expect during meetings or planning about something, you two are holding hands. Going somewhere with him? His hand is already wrapped around yours. Walking through crowded places? His hand is already tightened around yours. This big baby needs to make sure you are near him, he needs to be sure your safe! He loves you too much to not hold your hand<3

🍒 Aw, nicknames is also included!~ Sweetie, babe, sugar, cupcake, sugarpie. And the rarest nicknames are, sugarplum, Honeybun, and darling. Either used during intimate moments or wanting something from you, choose your choice. (Or choose both—)

🍒 This man once tried to cook breakfast for you but only for the fire alarm to go off, and all of the ninjas, including you, came running to the kitchen. He just stood there, looking like this: 🧍‍♂️

🍒 Hide your favourite desserts, this man will eat them. No, seriously, he will! A left over mango peach pie that one of your relatives gave you? GONE! Baked cookies that was just only for you and nya? ALSO GONE! Hide your favourite desserts! I repeat! Hide your favourite desserts! They are not safe from him.

🍒 I headcanon that he also daydreams of getting married with you. The sound of wedding bells, his friends and family sitting in the sidelines, and you, walking down the aisle with a bouquet, in a wedding dress. While he stood there, watching you with heart eyes. Because of his daydream, jay has to slapped him to leave his daydream and to focus on the mission.

🍒 This earth ninja also loves to carry you<3

Something about how you weighted and how he feels your body against his, calms him. It's like, he was the holding the most beautiful creation in his arms. His hold is gentle but firm, with love and care<3

🍒 Feeling sleepy? Don't hesitate to ask him to carry you. He 100% will carry you with no problems.

~ 🍒 ~

🍒: I have no regrets making this. I made this when I was like 10? Idk I don't remember—

Images by: @uzmacchiato