#tedious and takes a while but worth it in the end

[silentgrim]

just got into the far cry series…i’m so obsessed

[littleapplle]

bad dog!

mating season's part two. not necessary but read it for more context. nsfw. 4.1k w.

cw.: hybrid!caleb, fem!reader, masturbation (m), dry humping, caleb is pathetic and anxious asf, a lot of spit, handjob, cunnilingus (sigh...), p in v, big d caleb, knotting, breeding kink, pregnancy kink (sorryy..), caleb is PATHETIC (again), biting and lwk marking kink, doggy style, mating press, squirting.

note: ah!! its finally out! to everyone who liked and asked for a part two of mating season, im sorry! i took so long to start and finish this. i hope i can keep up with the expectations and that this is just as enjoyable as part one.

“bad dog!”

Is what caleb's got most used to hearing in the past few days.

“caleb, do you know where my white bra is- hey, what are you hiding in there? bad dog!”

“caleb! stop going through the dirty laundry basket! bad dog!”

“caleb, why are there holes in my black panties? oh my god did you chew them again?- ugh! bad dog!”

the first few times, he'd whine in guilt and shame, give you his best puppy eyes and maybe, just maybe, get away with it. but now? you're afraid he's getting bolder, that your punishments – denying him his weekly spoon of peanut butter and his blueberry bites – aren't being enough to keep him on his tracks. 

and what's the solution for a puppy with bad manners? a trainer, of course! you've searched everywhere online for a hybrid trainer close to your apartment and nothing was worth wasting time on. most of them were men, which you knew wouldn't end well.

puppy!caleb is friendly, a sweetheart around you. he lies on his back and whines for belly rubs and when you scratch a particular spot on his side, his leg twitches a little. your sweet pup is lovely but you know him well enough to know it's better to avoid interactions with other men.

it's not personal! he isn't scared of them or anything. he just doesn't like them around you:( so why would you bring a stranger to your shared apartment to not only try and order him around but also infect the air, which usually smells like you, with their yucky scent? that's a nono!! caleb is a good pup but his teeth are still huge and sharp!!!

with no other options left, you return to scolding caleb almost daily for his misbehavior.  sure, you’re letting him get away with it sometimes and maybe you're too soft on him but you're trying!

his behavior worsens with time. it's been a little more than a  week since the incident you'd rather not mention. caleb barks when you get home, showing his teeth to the world once his nose sniffs a different scent in your clothes. caleb growls and both of you play tug of war with your clothes every morning. caleb hides stuff around the apartment and you're running out of undies.

he's clingy. you love him but he's constantly clinging to you, sniffing every inch of your skin when he thinks you're not looking. When you sit down on the couch to work, laptop resting on top of your thighs, he lies down on the floor, waiting for you to invite him to sit beside you and take a nap while you write reports, and when you don't? his sharp teeth nip at the ticklish skin of your foot. bad dog!

to his dismay, you still have a job and need to go out by the morning and spend the whole day out. the baby teethers you bought for him aren’t helping to keep his teeth and mind busy anymore and caleb is starting to destroy the shit out of your apartment. you’ve found bite marks everywhere this past week. your mascara? bitten. the corner of your bedside table? destroyed. the cute and pink silicone spatula in your kitchen? disintegrated.

ok, sure, it’s kind of your fault for not educating him properly but how could you? poor boy gets anxious when you’re not around and his gums are itchy! he’s innocent! 

so, to help with said problem, you bought him a friend! a fluffy, cute, white bunny plushie with the cutest light pink heart for a nose. but that alone was too tedious for your bored pup! to prevent him from absolutely destroying the plushie, you spray some of your perfume in its fluffy body. the cologne he whines and buries his face in your neck when you wear, the one that made you put a lock on the cabinet under your bathroom sink because he kept spraying it in the air when you weren’t home.

great idea! he loves it. a bit too much maybe, but it’s a win. 

“i’m leaving, caleb! leftovers are in the fridge. yes, i love you, yes, i have to go, no i can’t call in sick.”

you announce loudly from the front door before shutting it close, a tactic you quickly learned. you sneak to the front door quietly, tell him that you’re out and boom. door locked. sometimes you can hear him whine and paw at the knob and it breaks your heart but your boss will chop your head off if you arrive late one more time this month. you try to make your goodbye as painless as possible for him, like removing a bandaid with a single quick pull so he doesn’t have the time to process the sting.

the clock hits 11:00, it’s been an hour since you left. caleb is miserably sprawled on the couch, he tries to focus his eyes on the show playing on the tv but his purple orbs stare at the clock more times than he can count.

it’s 18:00 by the time he gets frustrated and decides he’ll take a nap in your bed. everything on the tv is too boring if you’re not there to watch it with him, he doesn’t want to eat if you’re not there to treat him with dessert- oh, he misses you dearly.

opening the door of your room, he sighs like a wife that has been waiting six months for her husband, who left to save their country, to answer her last letter, whining dramatically at the hopeful thought you’d magically come home earlier. the mattress sinks down with his weight, curling under your weighted blanket like a puppy.

and that’s when he sees it.

his new little friend, with a light orange bow tied around its neck, sitting beside his head on the pillows. you’ve definitely sprayed your perfume on it this morning, the scent is still too fresh, he notes. 

he yanks it closer quickly, big hand and fingers gripping the fabric with force as he buries it in his face. comfort immediately runs through his veins, filling his bored brain with a sense of calmness. his fluffy ears twitch, glueing to the sides of his head pitifully and there’s a barely visible tail wagging slowly under the thick blanket.

caleb takes a whiff, a second one, a third one, and his eyes start to water. this is inhumane! he cherishes your gift dearly but now the scent just makes him miss you even more. rubbing his face closer to the plushie’s tummy, his canine teeth sink on the fabric as gently as he can, trying not to damage the toy you gifted him with so much love.

his little puppy heart shatters. if you were by his side right now, you’d pet his ears, pinch his cheek just enough to make his canines visible and giggle at him and it’d make him feel better! 

his hips buckle against the mattress as he squirms around the bed sadly and a shiver runs up his spine, making the fur on his tail stand up. caleb has been so pent up since he pressed you to the floor and had his way around you, his cock is always sensitive, the scratches you give behind his ear make his lower stomach tighten with arousal and his pupils are always blown.

gross stuff is a nono in your bed but his hands paw at his hardening cock through his boxers anyway. It’s not in his hand he wants to come and the feeling of not having what he wants makes his chest heavy with frustration. With a hiss, his hand leaves his cock, like any touch burns and hurts him more than it helps. 

‘caleb- no. i need you to calm down before i give you the spoon. breathe.’ is what you tell him after lunch, when he gets to have some peanut butter. the situation is different, he feels like a bomb, ticking closer and closer to exploding but he obeys your voice in his head anyway, breathing nervously against the now covered in saliva bunny.

a long breath makes his eyes roll to the back of his skull as his hypersensitive nose catches a glimpse of the intoxicating sweet smell of your cologne. 

and what happens next is not processed by his pathetic brain. the poor plushie is dragged down the blanket and pressed right to his crotch, its fur sticky with precum that seeped through his boxers. this is what you wanted when you gifted him this thing, huh? a ragdoll for him to fuck when you’re away? well it’s not enough!

his hips rut against the bead filled body with messy thrusts and more whines escape his lips. He can’t come. Not in this, not in his hand, his knot will take too long to go down and he’ll be sensitive, too sensitive. it has to be you. he wants you.

caleb is not there to see the clock tick 18:40, his ears don't help him this time, his nose is buried in your pillow too deeply to catch your slightly sweaty scent in the air and tell that you’re home. 

from the front door, you arch a brow as you kick your shoes off and place them on the shoe hack. the apartment is quiet, too quiet. caleb is like a child, you’ve noticed, if everything is too silent, something is wrong. 

“caleb? where are you, boy? have you eaten anything yet?” you call out, no one answers.

the door of your bedroom is ajar. is he sleeping? cute. you walk carefully to its direction, tiptoeing in hope to not wake him up. and once you peek inside, your smile falters.

“caleb! gross!”

the shriek makes him snap out of his drunk, dumbed down mind and his eyes almost pop out of his skull. his ears, once hidden on both sides of his head, stand on top of it, tense. “you-” he cries and sits up.

you don’t give time to finish his sentence, a frown blooming in your face as you cross your arms close to your chest by the door. 

“seriously caleb?! in my bed? i just changed the sheets this morning, for fuck’s sake-” and listen, he wants to apologize, feel guilty and pout but he can’t. he can hear your breath hitching, he loves when you come home with sweat clinging to your skin, fuck, you smell so good. he wants a taste. this time, he’ll get it.

this time, he begs. he crawls to the edge of your bed, tail wagging behind him mindlessly and the words that leave his mouth are pathetic.

“please- r’lly need your help! feels so hot- please i- i really need you! been waiting for so long, ah, please- i’m a good boy, kept my teeth to myself, promise. oh fuck.” your ears can barely catch up to everything he’s saying, his words are dragged, desperate, needy.

you really want to keep up with the ‘i’m mad at you’ act but you break. his whines go right to your core, arousal pooling on your underwear disgustingly fast. pinching your nose, you sigh, walking to his direction and sitting on the bed.

with the space between you two getting smaller, his tail wags faster, his pupils blown wide, shaky. your hand makes contact with his sweaty cheek and he is quick to lean in, shutting his eyes close and basking into your touch. “what’s wrong, pupp-” — “hot.” you can hear the distress in his voice. “it’s okay, i’m here now, aren’t i?” at the reassurance, you receive a lick in your hand as acknowledgement.

scooting closer, you cradle his face with both hands. there’s a bit of sweat clinging to his bangs , making them stick to his forehead, a bit of saliva is smeared on his lips and his brows are furrowed. “oh, my poor pup.” you coo in pity before pressing a kiss to his wet lips. he whines, kissing— well, licking your lips stupid—, you groan at the mess but doesn’t fight against it, you’ve been mean enough already.

while his clammy hands grip your shirt for a sense of grounding, yours scratch his chest in affection, tracing down to the happy trail that trailed up to his bellybutton. you’d love to take your time with him, let your mind settle, but knowing caleb, he’ll grow frustrated and bark weakly as a way to protest. so, in order to keep him quiet, your wandering hand pulls down his wet underwear, his cock standing proud against his stomach.

your eyes almost pop out their sockets once you peek down. he is big, much bigger than whatever the average is. his tip is an angry shade of red, beads of precum leaking down the shaft. the cool air makes it twitch. 

slowly, awkwardly, your hand wraps itself around it, working up and down. that makes him snap, breaking the kiss and throwing his head back with a loud whine. “‘s that good, pup?” he doesn’t answer, how could he? not when your thumb presses on his tip in a way it makes his thighs shake and his ears twitch with pleasure and he’s trying so hard not to come. 

your other hand leaves his face, going south to cup his balls gently. his jaw tightens. gross. you think with a smile but leans in anyway, kissing his adam’s apple as it bobs with his nervous gulps.

the stimulation is too much for him, making his brain go fuzzy. your lips now working on his shoulder blade, your hand gripping his length tightly, your other hand massaging his balls- “stop! argh- please, ‘m gonna cum! can’t cum. needa be inside you, please.” caleb squeals, both hands holding down your arms with force as his hips buckle in your hands.

so you do, you let go, just staring at him with big eyes as his chest goes up and down quickly and his face flushes with heat. once he settles from his high, caleb’s hands grip the hem of your shirt, taking it off quickly and messing your hair. “ow! caleb-” — “no.”

caleb has always been stronger than you, you lose against him when roughhousing, you give up on trying to save your clothes from his teeth because once something is in his grasp, you’re not getting it back. in a second, you’re under him, face shoved into one of your pillows while your ass, covered in the pretty, black skirt you left to work with is up in the air.

he doesn’t take the skirt off, too irritated to care about something so trivial. he takes a second to sniff your crotch, covered by a cute pair of wet lilac panties, before yanking the fabric down to your bent knees. you squeal against your pillow at the roughness and the quick, hot sniffs on your lips.

last week caleb discovered he loves the way you taste, he’d love to eat you out the whole night, starting now, but he just can’t take this long right now. his warm tongue laps at your arousal, lips wrapping themselves in your folds and sucking gently.

“c-caleb! fuck! good- good boy, keep going, baby.” muffled whines escape your lips and at the praise, caleb’s tail wags faster, tongue working around your clit, teasing it. he sees the way your knees fight to keep your ass up and not buckle weakly, that’s his sign to keep going. 

his free hands grip your ass, spreading it for more easy access. he trails kisses from your clit and up to your slit, continuing going up till he gets to your asshole, placing an open mouthed kiss to the hole. it twitches, your body shivering at the unexpected contact. you hit the pillow you’re currently biting in protest. “gross, caleb!”

it doesn’t take long for your moans to grow louder and your thighs, dripping with sweat, shake violently as he sucks on your clit harshly. “fu-ck! yes! good boy, caleb- mghhh- jus’ like, ah, that!” you moan, creaming on his mouth tiredly.

you curse his stamina, because once you think you’ll finally be able to catch your breath and rest, caleb’s already rutting against your wet folds and slapping his dick on your sensitive bundle of nerves. energetic mutt, you curse. he is not giving you a break.

“caleb.” you warn, trying to make your voice as steady as possible. “gimme a break and then we can conti- aaH! oh my god- fucking mutt!” you scream, cursing him for the pain between your legs as he buries himself inside you in a single thrust. his tip kissing your cervix and walls tightening around his length painfully. 

“s-sorry! o-oh fuck. fuck, y’er so tight- mgh-” 

and ohhhh fuck, he waited so long for this. you look so pretty from this angle, hair tangled and messy, face buried in a pillow, back and thighs sweaty while your knees can barely hold up your weight. he gulps down, trying not to piston his hips inside you just yet. 

he doesn’t give you much time to get comfortable before snapping his hips against your ass, the sound of skin against skin disgustingly lewd. his torso bends down to bury his face in your nape, breathing deeply in your hair once he does. “mine. oh- ahh- yes, mineminemine!” caleb whimpers, his eyes rolling back as you clench down around him, making his thrusts messier. 

as a response to pleasure, his fluffy ears twitch and drop to the back of his head once again. his tail doesn’t stop wagging ever, swishing behind him happily. the warmth in his stomach grows at the sound of your moans and screams, your curses only making him hornier.

you’re a meanie, you don’t let him chew on your shirts and get a whiff of your bras, you nag at him and hide the small container with blueberries that’s usually in the fridge when he does something wrong. and usually, he’d whine, eyes getting watery at the thought of you being mad at him, but now? he doesn’t even care! you look so pretty, you feel so good. his ears barely get a glimpse of you cursing all his next generations.

a shiver runs down your spine once he licks the back of your neck, sniffing it contently as his cock abuses your insides. you hate him, you fucking hate this mutt, he is disgusting and he does not obey and his cock drags along your walls so fucking nicely. his mushroom tip pokes your cervix roughly, making you stupidly drool in your sheets while your things dig on the bedding. 

“y’smell so good- y’er so tight- feel so- ngh- good! mine, right? don’t like other men around you! noooongh”  – “w-wait! caleb! aah!” something in his mind upsetted him because the way he thrusts into your cunt is inhumane, caleb’s bigger frame presses you down on the mattress, the hair of his happy trail tickling your lower back as his skin slaps on yours. 

you’re a mess, pussy drooling pathetically and stretched to her limit around him, juices spilling down your thighs and the mattress everytime he fucks his cock inside you. and when you’re sure you’re getting used to him, of fucking course caleb has to start talking again. “need to mark you, everyone need’ta know y’er mine, just mine. that’s my cock you’re clenching around. needa bite you, yeah.” 

and he keeps up with his words, his loving, ticklish licks to the back of your neck turning into a sharp pain. you scream, squirming under him and one of your hands tries to slap whatever bit of his skin you can reach but it’s worthless. once caleb sets his mind into something, you’re definitely not the one that’s able to stop him with physical force. with a hand tightly around your waist and the other keeping your neck in place, his canine teeth sink down on your nape, biting down just enough to make the skin irritated and leave a scar for a few weeks.

and when you feel like you’re getting closer, his hips stop, his cock slips out of you and a strangled whine leaves your wet lips as he manhandles you, flipping you on your back. “you!-” annoying! you’re so annoying! bad dog!, you want to shout. “s-sorry. need to see your face.” he hisses as his eyes wander down at your breasts. “you’re so pretty, ahhh, so pretty. have i ever told you that?- fuck, mine and so pretty- oh-” 

he doesn’t waste any time, his hands help your legs up his shoulders and he slips inside you again. his sunset colored eyes stare at his cock going in and out, in and out, in and out of you and he finally notices the creamy ring around the base of his length and smeared on your lips. it’s pinkish, he notes, probably from being too rough and not stretching you properly. he’ll say sorry later.

“you’re so-” he pants tiredly, “so pretty.” a sweaty hand gropes the fat of your tit, squeezing it under his large palm. “want t’a breed you- need to- fuck! need to get your tits swollen with milk-” caleb leans in once again, this time bending your body like a stick, pressing your legs closer to your chest in the process. his nose takes a whiff of the valley of your boobs before wrapping his lips around your free boob, playing with the other one with his hand. 

your voice fails you once again. it’s not like you have the strength to judge him harshly again anyway. his tongue swipes at your hard nipple, sucking it like he has a point to prove. “and you would mghhh! would look so pretty and round and ah! everyone would know y’er mine, oh god-” 

with a last kiss, as if sealing a promise, he lets go of your nipple with mercy and stands up again, kissing your knee as an apology for bending you like your bones are made of jello. and then it hits him. “o-oh! s’rry forgot you like this.” the hand squeezing your tit snakes down between you two, adding some much needed stimulation to your clit.

you jump, legs thrashing against his shoulders and back at the pleasure. you clench around him once more and this time, it’s his turn to squeal in pleasure. “o-oh fuck. ‘m cumming, g’nna breed you, yeah? fill you up, mhm? yeah? fuck! cummin’!” caleb whines before throwing his head back, his sweaty hair barely moving an inch away from his forehead while doing so, and his once steady thrusts turn languid, messy. 

his cock twitches around you, spilling white, watery ropes in your pussy. bicolor orbs roll to the back of his skull as he feels his knot grow swollen at the base of his cock. even after coming, he keeps pistoning his hips in you, tiredly, but it’s the thought that counts.

at the weird, swollen and hot thing trying to fuck its way inside you, you mewl, eyes going wild open as caleb tries stretching you just a little more. 

“caleb-? what the aha! fuck?” — “sorry!” he cries but keeps going anyway, his fingers working faster around your clit to make up for the pain. “jus’ a little more? ple- ase? it feels good, doesn’t it?” back to being stupid and pathetic apparently, because the way he stares at you with puppy dog eyes and begs is disgusting. 

his other hand leaves your thigh to press down on your tummy and it becomes too much. your walls convulse around him and you cry, clit throbbing under his touch pathetically. the hand putting pressure on your bladder makes your eyes roll, your hands grip the sheets to the point of turning white.

“caleb! ah! oh my god- fuck- aha, cumming, i’m gonna cum! pl-please keep going!” 

and you don’t have to ask him twice. he thrusts his cock in you a last time, his knot slipping in easier than he thought it would, thanks to your drooling cunt and his cum and that does it for you. your body goes static, hips bucking against his and back arching against the bed. his fingers don’t stop, rubbing your clit until you’re shaking uncontrollably and your juices spray on his thighs and lower stomach.

“oh-”  — “don- not a word!” you manage to cry out.

“so… how long till it goes down?” you murmur tiredly against his shoulder, arms wrapped around his big frame as he lies on top of you. your legs feel sore, aching from being spread for so long, thanks to his cock still buried in you.

“an hour and a half, probably” caleb shrugs. 

your eyes snap open. “an hour?!” — “and a half.” he barks with a chuckle.

“i hate you! you’re heavy, y’know?! argh, bad dog!” he only manages to laugh at your rage and lick your cheek, covering it in saliva.

⊹ ࣪reblogs are very much appreciated. thank you for reading!(*´▽`*)

[sukunasweetheart]

oh, to fit him like a glove...

WARNINGS; ooc sukuna, virgin!reader (well... not for long), size kink, BREEDING, vaginal fingering, sukuna only has one dick here cuz i wanted to make it less complicated, COCKWARMING, stomach bulge, degradation, praise, sukuna is a four armed king, overstimulation, mouth-hands, EXCESSIVE CUM

based on this anon's ask! dividers credit; @/cafekitsune

word count; 3k

imagine being sukuna's precious princess of a wife-- whom he spoils and dotes on because its in his interests to do so. like any other woman, youre tiny compared to him, so having you take his cock eventually will be very tedious work, and sukuna will need a lot of patience.

and we all know, sukuna is the most patient man in the world... at least when it means that it'll be worth it for him at the end. and to him, you are worth everything.

he's proud and pleased to be your first... sukuna can't help but feel keen about the idea that he will be the only one ever to have had the pleasure of being so intimate with you.

he watches you intently, as you struggle to take even two of his thick fingers in your tight hole, tearing up and whimpering as he tampers with those delicate spots inside you.

"nngh.. sukuna... that feels so good..." you whimper his name delightfully, it almost makes his enduring patience snap.

outwardly, his face looks calm as he looks down at you with soft lust that takes the form of an almost blank expression.

"does it?" he asks, with a certain playfulness in his voice.

his fingers move a little faster, scissoring you inside and pressing in an upwards manner, where it makes you gasp the most. you're producing so much slick, but your hole is still so tight and unrelenting, clenching around his thick digits even more. sukuna thinks about good it'd feel if his dick was inside instead, and he feels himself aching with desire, twitching and leaking precum from his hidden erection.

...not yet.

he dutifully touches you to your orgasm, and watches with a hitched breath as you tremble on his fingers, walls fluttering against them. your sighs and soft moans reach his ears like nothing else.

his extra hands grope at your breasts, finding solace in them.

"do you think i'm ready yet?" you ask tenderly, after your breath returns to normal.

"... hardly, my love. that was only two of my fingers," sukuna tells you languidly, as he feeds your slick on his digits to the mouth on his stomach.

"only two? oh dear..." you sigh with sorrow, "will i ever be able to take you whole one day?"

he smirks at the question, and leans down into your chest while holding ahold of your hand.

"well of course. i'll make it happen no matter what. i promise."

the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine.

when it does happen, you best be ready for him to breed you full every night.

however, on some days, the urge gets unbearable, even for himself. he's been saving himself up a little, so he could pour everything inside you when the time comes, but the lust gets overwhelming, clouding his sight and judgement.

one night, you gesture towards the bulge in his pants, with a shaking hand.

"what about you? isn't it painful to always withhold yourself like that?" you ask, wanting for him to feel good as well, instead of just yourself.

sukuna grows silent, sweating bullets as his dick throbs upon your mention of it.

the next minute, he's taking it out and slotting it between your thighs, rubbing up against your slit and seeing how the size compares to your stomach.

the temptation is too great.

not. yet.

this was the whole reason he was avoiding using his cock with your body in the first place - because he was afraid he'd cave in and attempt to deflower you when you weren't ready yet, still too tight for him to squeeze in, causing you pain only.

if it were anyone else, he wouldn't bother... but you're one that he cherishes too much... he wants to work to make the end result even tastier. the moment where he'll finally claim you entirely.

the bed creaks as he thrusts in and out between your thighs, rubbing his twitching dick against your hole oozing with slick, also brushing up onto your clit that's swollen from arousal.

" 'm sorry... i wish... there was more i could do..." you whimper sweetly, squeezing one of his large hands.

"there's no need for that. whatever i can't put inside you now... i'll pump in twice as much, once you're ready for me," sukuna whispers gently, holding your hand back, a groan resounding in the back of his throat.

rewards become so much sweeter after restraint. like how you wouldn't pick and eat an unripe fruit from a tree.

"you're doing plenty enough for me... for now," he tells you breathlessly. he adores the glossy look in your eyes.

his cock continues to glide back and forth, and he feels so hot between your thighs.

"i... i want your tip inside when you cum, please," you say, eyeing his dick with a certain neediness.

"are you sure, love?" he asks, hoping you'll say yes. you nod fervently.

sukuna feels lightheaded at the thought of it, all the while his dick gets more and more sensitive against your thighs... his balls feel so heavy and full, all those times he held himself back coming to catch up on him.

you squeeze your legs around him harder, making him groan, cock pulsing for all it's worth. he thinks about how tightly your walls would clamp around him. the heat from your insides, and your slick covering his shaft. he's close.

he suddenly spreads your legs.

at this stage, he's only barely able to get his tip past your entrance. it's possible when he does it slowly enough. you whine beneath him, doing your best to not go against his arms that are pinning your legs down.

a drop of sweat rolls down the side of his face. sukuna uses an extra hand to stroke the rest of his dick as his tip remains snug inside your puckering hole. when it comes, he gives a choked-off gasp from how good his first-in-a-while release feels.

he has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from burying himself any further.

the ropes of cum seep and trickle into your womb in thick, heavy spurts, and the hotness of it gets you breathing unevenly, being so aroused by this sensation. there's a copious amount. he continues jerking himself off to get every last droplet out, and his own hand can feel the intense twitches of the veins on his erection.

it's not nearly enough to satisfy him, but it's enough to keep him patient.

once his tip pops out from your wet hole again, his spend come out of it in large globs, and sukuna can't help but admire the sight, his dick twitching weakly in his hand.

he abstains from cumming all over again for another few weeks- another few weeks of stretching you out with his fingers, and prepping you to perfection.

when the day finally creeps up, where he believes you're ready to take him whole, sukuna hears and feels his heartbeat in his own ears.

ever so slowly. he's sitting down on the edge of the bed, and he has you lower yourself on his throbbing cock as he's face to face with you, ever so slowly. your body trembles lightly and he feels it on his hands and fingers as they're placed against your hips. sukuna senses your anxiousness that flows from you in large waves.

your hole is so tight, trying to push the intrusion out, but the wetness from your slick helps his cock slip inside easier, and sukuna's breath is kept within the back of his throat as you swallow him up deeper and deeper.

he's sweating. you're sweating. but soon enough, you're sat on his lap completely, having gotten all of him inside you at last. you can barely breathe with how tightly you enclose around him. how his cock is nudged up snugly against your cervix, pushing the literal air out of your lungs. and the way you feel it twitching inside.

sukuna has never been more patient, more self disciplined, more repressed than in this moment. one wrong movement and he feels like he could snap and start thrusting in without concern for you in any moment. no. he shouldn't do that. it would ruin all everything he's done to build you up for this moment.. but your walls keep tauntingly squeezing around him...

"i- i can finally fit all of you inside..." you say with glee, tears on your lashes, but looking very proud of yourself. it snaps him back to sanity, a little bit.

"of course... you were made for me, after all. so perfectly mine, fitting me like a glove," sukuna mumbles, as his bigger tongue licks against your clit, arousing you more so that you could loosen up for him. his praise gets to your head and makes you feel sheepish, wanting to do more to please him. but you don't think you can do that, just yet.

"can we stay like this for a bit, please?"

"that would be...for the best. can't have my wife splitting in half, can i?" sukuna jests rather sinisterly.

"oh, you..." you pout at him. the larger tongue rubs against you more persistently to distract you, and he smirks as it does the trick. you whimper, and your walls pulse gently around him making him groan. your eyes get half lidded, already feeling somewhat exhausted, and you lean your face against the large man's chest.

veins are bulging out of his arms, and one on his forehead. you seem so relaxed, unbeknownst to the fact that he's currently doing everything to keep himself together. you're like a tiny mouse trapped in the claws of a tiger.

sukuna starts to bite and kiss down your neck and shoulder to satiate himself.

few minutes after you've calmed yourself a little, your eyes start wandering down, taking notice of the bump on your stomach, from having him inside you.

"it goes without saying, but you're so big..." you press against it without thinking, and you feel him throb inside you intensely. sukuna grabs your wrist with a growl.

"are you trying to test my patience right now?"

you look at him with wide eyes, from how unusually on edge he is... something about him being all restless makes you feel aroused. you're doing that to him. a man who rarely ever feels. but you've gotten him all sensitive.

" 'm sorry. kiss me?" you ask sweetly, lips curling up in a foxy way.

his gaze softens.

"when you ask me so sweetly... i can't deny you, can i?"

and he leans down to press his lips onto yours, despite seeing the mischief in your eyes. your arms go around his neck, and as he's kissing you, his hands go for your breasts.

you tighten up on his leaking dick, making him moan into your mouth. his grip on your hips squeeze harder, but he doesn't stop kissing you.

you want to make him cum. you want him to lose control from being inside you.

sukuna breaks the kiss with a little choked off heave, when you begin to roll your hips around him slightly.

"you're getting awfully ahead of yourself-"

you cut him off by latching your mouth to the side of his neck, suckling and running your tongue against his skin while your hips keep moving.

he'd call you cute, but it's working. sukuna grits his teeth and his eyes get heavy lidded, dick getting impossibly harder. his heavy breathing adds to your excitement.

"i never knew my wife was such a whore. i'll be sure to return this favour later," sukuna tells you with a low voice, his hands now guiding your hips against him.

you're wordless, as you continue running your lips and tongue up his skin, moving onto his jawline, only giving a whine in response, feeling his tip press into the entrance of your womb.

such lousy movement usually wouldn't be near enough for him, but...

his head lulls back, exposing the way his adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows thickly, getting close... your little kitten thrusts and the way you're tonguing the sensitive area under his jaw...

sukuna's hips jolt into you for the last time.

" 'm cumming-"

his mouth hangs open as he releases - dumping weeks' worth of seed into your cunt. his body jerks against you and you bite into his shoulder.

his cock throbs erotically in your clamping walls, and you milk him effortlessly, and you moan on his neck, while still suckling and tonguing the same area, feeling the hotness of his cum as it thickly pours into you, making your belly swell a bit from it.

sukuna groans as he seeds your womb properly for the first time, two hands on your hips, one against the back of your neck, and the remaining arm wrapped around your waist to keep you still as his dick pulses inside you.

your head is whirring from the tense situation, being creampied so lewdly for the first time, to think that he's released inside, and the feeling of his every breath as he orgasms, is enough to make you feel so exhilarated.

suddenly, he stills.

it makes you a little nervous, so you detach your upper body from him and aim to look at his expression. but before you can make any further movement, you're suddenly thrown onto your back against the soft mattress of the bed in the speed of light. he keeps himself buried in you, making sure to plug you up nicely.

when you meet his eyes after a shocked gasp, you see his darkened expression, his eyebrows furrowed, but his mouth curved up in a toothy, sinister grin.

"you really tested me back there, didn't you?" he rasps, grabbing your face and forcing you to keep your gaze on him.

"i hope you're aware that i'm not letting you get a wink of sleep tonight."

not a word gets out of your mouth, before sukuna pulls his dick back, and slams his hips into you, his thick cock dragging against your tight walls.

your voicebox makes a noise that you never thought was possible, a noise that's mixed with both a moan and a scream.

"oh, fuck..." sukuna mumbles gutturally, beginning to thrust in and out of you the way he's always wanted to. your hands fist the sheets behind your head, and his hands keep your legs spread apart for him, while the other two pinch at your breasts roughly, groping at your flesh so brazenly.

his heavy balls slap against your ass as his hips rut into you, making sure to drive himself in to the hilt, before pulling out to the tip and doing that all over again.

you squeal and mewl under him, eyes watering from pleasure and already getting overstimulated as he fucks you senseless. to think that only a few weeks ago, you were only able to fit two of his fingers. it all feels like a fever dream.

sukuna breathes heavily, his muscles glistening from his own sweat as he indulges in his reward, his reward of you, and your cunt that is finally nice and loose for him, sheathing him so nicely, coating his dick with your slick like the harlot you are. his laboured breaths stutter when your walls pulse around him as you reach your orgasm-- your head tilting back into the mattress.

cock leaking more precum into you, sukuna's eyes become half lidded again as he gets close to his second release.

"you're gonna drive me crazy," he grunts, as his tip reaches your cervix again and again and again.

his thrusts become erratic, and then halts as he busts another thick load into you, making you cry out pitifully.

"fuuck, fuck, fuck...." sukuna shudders, leaning down on his forearms, getting so close that you feel his breath ghosting against your skin, while his other two hands grip onto the sides of your hips. his pecs rub up into your tits and the tongue from his stomach messily laps away at your clit as he empties his balls into you, your pussy seemingly trying to squeeze him dry.

all of his eyes close up as he then kisses you like he's trying to swallow up your tongue. you whimper against his lips, doing your best to reciprocate, struggling to keep up with the pace of this kiss.

he breaks away from your lips.

"c'mon, not good enough. put your tongue into it more," he instructs breathlessly, with somewhat of a disappointed expression. your mind is too hazy from the intense lust but you give a short nod with teary eyes, which makes him smirk before pushing his lips onto you again.

you kiss him back the most you can, and he hums in pleasure, your tongue finally intertwining with his. it distracts you from how full you feel right now, even with only two of his loads in you.

his thrusts slowly start back up again.

"s-sukuna-!" you gasp, breaking the kiss.

"i warned you... it's gonna be a long night," sukuna tells you. he seems to have become more sound of mind after that second orgasm.

"give me more..." he mutters, leaning against the crook of your neck, and licking a stripe up against it, "my precious wife."

your arms wrap around his neck, holding him tight. he grins, and you feel it on your skin.

... eventually when his third load fills you up, he's running his tongue against the shell of your ear, two mouths sucking at each of your nipples, from the way he clasped his palms over your breasts at the last second.

you're trembling beneath him, tears now running down the side of your face, babbling nonsensical words at him.

sukuna leans back to run his third hand through his disheveled hair to slick it up again, and he grins at your state of overstimulation. he feels so good inside you. it was worth waiting and preparing you for so long.

once your orgasm subsides a bit, he finally detaches his mouth-hands away from your tits, making a line of saliva stretch between in the process. then, the mouths disappear. your body relaxes. but sukuna's cock is still inside you.

"you alright, my love?" he asks smugly, looking down at your state of fatigue caused by intense pleasure.

you mumble out something of a 'yes', and he chuckles. his eyes trail down to your now slightly pudgy stomach.

"you're so full with me, my dear wife. haha, it's quite the lovely sight," sukuna tells you softly, pressing his hand down softly against the swell of your tummy. you jolt a little, whining.

"sukuna... too full..."

he leans down closer to your face and wipes the sweat off your forehead, before bringing his lips to the same area gently.

"we can stay like this for a few minutes. rest up. but we're not done yet."

he hasn't even had the chance to sink his teeth into you yet. just a little more. you can do that for him, can't you?

Masterlist

[mountaesan]

of pomegranates and love stained fingers ; p. sungho 

pairing. idol!park sungho x reader genre. fluff , est. relationship , lots n lots of domesticity ! synopsis. in which sungho shows you that love could be found at an ordinary kitchen table , amidst a mess of pomegranate peels and love stained fingers word count. 1.9k warnings. nudity and bathing in a non-sexual context , a lot of inner dialogue , sungho is… such a gentleman i actually might have fallen in love with him while writing this (yes this is a warning) playlist. the way that i am by abby powledge  notes. this is. so. so. so. self indulgent. but oh to be loved and to be seen by park sungho (◞‸◟)

Pomegranates are a contradiction wrapped in a tough, leather-like skin. 

On the outside, they’re unassuming. Their ruby-red hue is muted by a dull, almost dusty sheen, like they’ve been brushed by centuries of history. But break one open, and it’s utter chaos. Vivid, gleaming seeds spilling out in clusters, their translucent walls catching the light like small, blood-red jewels.

The juice is relentless. It stains fingers, clothes, and countertops with a color so intense that it almost feels alive, impossible to tame. 

And it doesn’t simply mark, it claims. Eating one is an exercise in both patience and surrender. Each seed is a burst of a tart sweetness that’s worth the mess, but it leaves you wondering how something so beautiful can also be so unruly.

That was exactly why you loved pomegranates. They were a little wild, a little untamed. It was in the way the juice stained your fingers, leaving behind traces of something alive and uncontainable. It’s how every seed is a burst of flavor: tangy, sweet, and unapologetically bold. For you, pomegranates were a reminder that the best things in life aren’t always neat or simple; they’re messy, vivid, and unforgettable.

Back in your adolescence, when you were still a hopeless romantic and believed in fate and soulmates and such, you had a theory: that anyone willing to peel a pomegranate for you was to be the one. The one the universe had assigned you—your soulmate. The person you’re meant to share the messiness and beauty of life with, because, let’s be honest, peeling a pomegranate isn’t just an act, it’s a labor. 

It’s tedious, requiring patience and precision to carefully break apart the tough skin without crushing the delicate seeds. The juice inevitably smears, the tiny ruby jewels scatter, and by the end, it looks like a small battlefield in the kitchen. 

You thought of it as a test of devotion. Who else would endure the sticky fingers, the risk of stains, and the painstaking effort, all for the sole purpose of handing over a bowl of gleaming seeds? Your theory wasn’t about the pomegranate itself, it was about what it represented: the willingness to take on something cumbersome and time-consuming just to bring joy to someone else.

In your teenage mind, peeling a pomegranate was love distilled into action. A quiet, unspoken declaration that said, ‘I see the things you cherish, even the messy, difficult ones, and I want to be a part of them.’

So you used to wait, watching the people in your life with a careful eye, jokingly tossing your theory at dinner tables and gatherings but secretly hoping and wondering if someone might one day sit down, pick up a pomegranate, and show you that love can be as simple, and as profound, as peeling fruit. 

But as you grew older, your pomegranate theory began to feel like a relic of a softer, more naive version of yourself. You used to imagine someone peeling away the tough, leathery rind, their hands stained red with love and effort, and thought to yourself, ‘that’s love.’ But with time, the weight of practicality started to take hold. 

Your theory about pomegranates, something you once held close with a spark of whimsical belief, soon became just another one of those silly little things that poets and hopeless romantics dreamed up.

So, you tucked your silly theory away in a dusty corner of your mind, dismissing it as an innocent fantasy of your youth. You searched for love that was grounded, sensible, and serious about the practicalities of life. You looked for someone who could handle the demands of life without the weight of romantic idealism like yours clouding their judgement. 

There was no room for mess or chaos anymore, certainly not for the kind of love that required peeling pomegranates, both literally and metaphorically.

A loud slam of your front door made your ears perk up and you heard the familiar rustling of your boyfriend’s clothes as he shuffled through the living room. You could almost envision the way he shrugged off his outer coat before neatly hanging it on the coat hanger by the entryway.

“Baby? I’m home!” 

“In here!” you called out. The bathwater lapped at your knees, forming small waves that crashed and fell against the porcelain wall of your bathtub. Sungho knocked on the bathroom door, but only out of courtesy, before he pushed it open and greeted you with a bright smile.

“Hi, gorgeous,” he knelt by the side of the bathtub to press a warm kiss to your forehead. 

“You’re home early.” you pointed out. A hand reached out to stroke your boyfriend’s cheek, a single droplet of water running down the slope of your arm and landing back in the bathtub with a small plop. 

“Mastered the choreography first so I could come home to you,” he replied, ever so gently leaning into the warmth of your palm. “Did you just start your bath?”

You nodded, the corners of your lips lifting at his sweet words. “Just a few minutes ago. You don’t have to keep kneeling like that, you know. Your knees are going to hurt.”

“I’m fine,” he said with a chuckle. His gaze softened as he noticed the way the water cradled your form, the steam rising in delicate swirls around you. “Want some help?”

You tilted your head, teasing. “Are you volunteering to join me?”

Sungho laughed softly, shaking his head. “Maybe next time, but I can still take care of you from here.”

Before you could respond, he reached for the loofah sitting on the edge of the tub and dipped it into the warm water before lathering it up with your favorite body wash. His movements were slow and deliberate, as though he wanted to savor every second of this small, intimate moment. 

“You don’t have to, you know,” you murmured as he started gently running the loofah along your shoulder. His featherlight touch sent a slight shiver down your spine.

“I know,” he said, his voice steady and warm. “But let me.”

His voice was so soft, so filled with love, that you couldn’t bring yourself to argue. You let out a small sigh of defeat and leaned back against the tub as he started gently running the loofah over your arms. 

Sungho’s touch was delicate, as though he was handling the most fragile thing in the world. The loofah glided over your arms, his hand following to rinse away the bubbles.

“You work so hard,” he murmured, almost to himself, as he moved to your legs. “You deserve this.”

The words made your chest tighten with emotion. “You’re too good to me,” you whispered.

“No such thing,” he said with a soft chuckle, his hand brushing the back of your calf. “Taking care of my partner is the easiest thing in the world.”

You let your head rest against the edge of the tub, closing your eyes as his hands continued their tender work. The care and love infused into every motion, the way he poured his entire being into making sure you felt safe, cherished, and adored made your heart squeeze tightly.

As he finished, Sungho pressed a soft kiss to your damp shoulder, his lips lingering for a moment. “All done,” he whispered, and you noticed a hint of pride in his voice.

“Thank you,” you said, meeting his gaze. 

Sungho smiled, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Anything for you, gorgeous. Always.”

He stood up and grabbed the big, fluffy towel from the nearby rack, shaking it out to fluff it up. “Alright, come on, let me help you out.”

You shifted in the tub, the water sloshing as you moved to stand. Sungho reached out instinctively, steadying you with his strong, gentle hands. His fingers pressed lightly against your arm and waist as he guided you to step out of the tub.

“Careful,” he murmured, his brows furrowed in concentration. 

The moment your feet touched the bath mat, he draped the towel around you, cocooning you in its warmth. You couldn’t help but giggle as he adjusted the plush fabric, tucking the edges around your shoulders like a protective shield.

“There we go. Let’s go get you dried up, and then we can go see the present I got you.”

The kitchen table was a mess—juice stains spreading across its surface, pomegranate seeds scattered among paper towels and discarded bits of rind. Sungho sat across from you, elbows resting on the table as he carefully pried apart another piece of fruit. His fingers were stained a deep crimson, the juice clinging to his skin and pooling in the small creases of his knuckles. 

“You’re making such a mess,” you teased, watching as he plucked a cluster of seeds free and placed them in a bowl.

He grinned, unfazed. “Worth it.”

He picked up a few seeds between his stained fingers, flicking away the stubborn bits of membrane, and brought them to your lips. “Here.” 

You let him feed you, the tart sweetness bursting on your tongue as he watched you with unspoken fondness. It wasn’t until you noticed the way his brows furrowed in concentration, focusing on getting a particular seed unstuck from the membrane, that it struck you how absurdly thoughtful this was.

“When did I even mention that I like pomegranates?” you asked, your voice softened with wonder and adoration.

Sungho glanced up briefly, his lips quirking up into a sheepish grin. “You told me once, when we first started dating. You were talking about how much you loved them as a kid. Said they were your favorite fruit, even though they’re a pain to eat.” 

You blinked, stunned. The memory was hazy even to you—just a passing remark in some forgetful conversation. But he’d remembered.

“You didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” you murmured, feeling your chest tighten with an unfamiliar mix of emotions.

Sungho shrugged, returning his attention to the pomegranate in his crimson stained hands. “It’s no trouble. Besides, I like seeing you happy.”

You looked down at the table and took in the chaos of it all: the stains, the mess, his juice-streaked hands, and something deep inside you shifted.

Suddenly, you were seventeen again with your heart wrapped in whimsical theories about soulmates and love.

This was it. This was what you had been searching for back then but had long stopped believing in. This was the kind of love you’d once dreamed of but had dismissed as a silly, adolescent fantasy. Yet, here it was, sitting across from you with juice-stained hands and a soft smile, proving you wrong in the most beautiful way.

Your teenage self had been right: peeling a pomegranate wasn’t just about the fruit. It was a quiet act of devotion, a willingness to embrace the mess and the effort for the sake of someone else’s joy.

Sungho broke your reverie by holding up another handful of seeds, his smile so effortlessly warm that it sent a pang through your chest.

“You don’t have to feed me,” you said with a small laugh, though your voice wavered slightly.

“I know,” he replied. His tone was gentle but resolute. “But let me.”

And as you opened your mouth for the next bite, you realized that love didn’t have to be a grand, sweeping gesture.

Sometimes, it was sitting at a messy kitchen table with stained hands and sticky fingers, peeling pomegranates because someone mentioned, just once, that they liked them.

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[spiritualitygeek]

PAC Reading | 2025 Prediction

Disclaimer: This is a general reading intended for entertainment purposes only. The insights provided are not definitive predictions, as your choices and actions constantly shape your reality. This reading reflects potential outcomes based on your current energy and should not be used as the sole basis for significant decisions, including those related to health, finances, or life-changing matters. Please use your own judgment and seek professional advice when necessary. I am not responsible for any decisions made based on this reading.

Pile 1

Cards: 5oW, PoW(X) and QoW

Signs: Gemini, Libra, Aquarius

Are you lost, babygirl? Haha, I had to keep that in because it truly fits the energy of your reading.

Your year started with the energy of 5 of Wands, and oh boy, you were in the thick of it!

Scrambling, competing, proving, pushing—whether it was career, relationships, or just proving your worth to yourself, you were in that hyper-masculine "go, go, go" mode. And while that fire helped you move forward, it also drained you. There may have been conflicts, inner or outer, and a feeling of "I need to win at all costs." But did you ever pause to ask, win what exactly?

Now, we’re in the Page of Wands reversed phase. And honestly? You're tired. It’s that feeling of I used to be excited about this… so why am I not anymore? The spark feels dimmed. Maybe you're questioning your path, your motivation, your direction. Maybe you’re even a little bored or uninspired. And let me tell you, that's okay. This is your soul telling you to slow down. Instead of forcing yourself to “figure it out,” take this as a cosmic permission slip to simply be. Go on solo dates. Reconnect with hobbies that don’t have a purpose beyond joy. Let go of the need to prove yourself. Because, babygirl, you already are enough.

And then—boom! By the end of the year, you step into Queen of Wands energy.

Now we're talking!

You’re no longer chasing; you're attracting. You’ve shifted from desperate action to inspired action. From pushing to flowing. From proving to owning. Your feminine energy is activated, and with it, your confidence, magnetism, and ease. Things start aligning for you because you’re no longer in resistance. You’re radiating that main character energy, and trust me, people will notice.

The biggest lesson here? You don’t have to exhaust yourself to get what you want. Resting, believing, and taking aligned steps will get you further than forcing things ever did. You’re stepping into a version of yourself that knows their worth, stands in their power, and lets the universe meet them halfway.

So breathe, relax, and trust the process. It's already done!

Pile 2

Cards: Knight oP, QoP, 6oS

Signs: Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn, Aries, Libra

OMG, Pile 2! I am absolutely loving your energy—it’s so grounded, so determined. It’s giving "I’ve got a plan, and I’m sticking to it!" I’m getting strong vibes of working toward a goal that sets you free—whether that’s moving out, becoming independent, leaving a relationship that no longer serves you, or upskilling for a better job. Whatever it is, you’re in it for the long haul, and you’re not about to half-ass it.

You stepped into 2025 with Knight of Pentacles energy. This is the card of slow, steady, and disciplined work. You’re not rushing things, you’re not being reckless—you’ve got a goal, and you’re making consistent moves toward it. It might have felt tedious at times, like you’re putting in all this effort without immediate results, but the Knight doesn’t care about instant gratification. He’s in it for real, lasting success. And so are you.

Now, with your current energy as the Queen of Pentacles, I can tell you’re doing amazing, sweetie. You’ve leveled up. You’ve found your rhythm, your stability. You’re not just grinding mindlessly—you’re also nurturing yourself, balancing work with self-care, and actually enjoying the process. That’s the secret sauce! Instead of obsessing over what’s wrong or what you don’t want, you’re choosing to focus on what you do want. And let me tell you, that mindset shift? Powerful. You’re sitting on your throne, secure in yourself, radiating grace and abundance. You’re a Queen indeed.

And here’s the best part—by the end of the year, we’ve got the Six of Swords. And oh boy, this is the card of moving forward. Whatever you’ve been working toward, whatever you’ve been patiently building, you’re finally making that transition. Whether it’s literally packing your bags and leaving, cutting ties with a situation that no longer serves you, or stepping into a new career, it’s happening. The storm is behind you, and you’re sailing toward calmer waters.

My only request is, please keep this energy up. Stay patient, stay steady, and trust that all your efforts are leading you exactly where you need to be. You’re not just dreaming about change—you’re making it happen. And by the end of 2025, you’ll look back and realize just how far you’ve come.

Pile 3

Cards: Temperance, KoW, Strength

Signs: Cancer, Scorpio, Pisces, Sagittarius

Pile 3, you mystical, radiant souls. If I could reach through this reading and give you the tightest, most heartfelt hug, I would. Because wow—you are something special.

You’re my sages, my old souls. You’ve been through the fire, walked through darkness, and yet here you are, not just standing but shining. There’s something so deeply healing about your energy, something that touches people without you even trying. Maybe that’s your purpose—to inspire, to uplift, to simply be a presence that makes the world feel a little less heavy.

You entered 2025 with Temperance—the card of balance, patience, and divine wisdom. This tells me you’ve already done the deep work. You’ve faced your shadows, healed wounds that once defined you, and reached a place of profound self-awareness. You’ve unlearned the limiting beliefs that held you back, shed layers of conditioning, and embraced a path of inner mastery. You don’t react impulsively anymore; you respond with wisdom. There’s a beautiful, almost ethereal peace to you—like you’ve made friends with time itself, knowing that everything unfolds exactly as it should.

And now? Now you’re stepping into the King of Wands energy. Confidence. Vision. Purpose. You’re no longer just existing; you’re leading. Maybe you don’t even realize how magnetic you are, how people naturally look up to you, seek your guidance, and feel safe in your presence. You might be highly spiritual, or maybe you’ve found a way to balance your spiritual depth with the practical world effortlessly. You’re the kind of person who walks into a room and commands attention without even trying. But the best part? You’ve recently learned to protect your energy. No more giving endlessly to energy vampires. No more overextending yourself. You’re choosing where and how you shine, and that’s a power move.

By the end of 2025, with Strength, I see you reaching a level of mastery—not just of survival, but of living. This isn’t just physical strength (though for some of you, it could be a focus on health and vitality). This is inner strength. Emotional resilience. The kind of peace that comes from knowing that nothing outside of you can shake you anymore. You’re stepping into a level of enlightenment that most people spend lifetimes chasing.

I'm sorry if I fangirled a bit too much. Tbh, I don't feel qualified enough to be doing a reading for you, Pile 3. You seem to know and understand it all already. You're so intuitive and wise. TT

Pile 4

Cards: the chariot, death(X), 2oP

Signs: Gemini, Libra, Aquarius, Sagittarius, Scorpio

Pile 4, my warriors in disguise.

I feel like shaking your shoulders gently and saying, "Wake up, love! You’re so much stronger than you think!" Because you are. But right now? You might not be acting like it.

You entered 2025 with The Chariot—bold, determined, full speed ahead. At some point, you had a clear goal, a destination in mind. You were ready to take charge, to move, to break free. But somewhere along the way, something happened. Maybe fear crept in. Maybe doubt whispered in your ear. And now, with Death in Reverse, you’re resisting the very change you once craved.

Let’s be real—you know deep down that something in your life isn’t serving you anymore. It could be a job, a relationship, a mindset, a habit—something is dead weight, but you’re still carrying it. And the craziest part? It’s not even that you want it anymore. It’s that you’re more afraid of the unknown than you are of staying stuck. It’s like a type of emotional masochism—you’re comfortable in discomfort. You’re focusing more on what you don’t want than on what you do.

But here’s the thing: The universe doesn’t respond to hesitation. It responds to clarity. If you keep focusing on fear, you’ll manifest more of it. If you keep thinking about what you don’t want, you’ll keep getting exactly that. It’s time to flip the script.

By the end of the year, we have the Two of Pentacles—which tells me that, whether you like it or not, life is going to force you to juggle your choices. You can’t stay in limbo forever. You’ll either have to adapt or let go, but either way, movement is coming. So, why not take the reins now? Why not be the one who decides instead of waiting for the universe to shake things up for you?

You started this year with The Chariot—that drive, that hunger is still inside you. You just have to believe in it again. Let go. Say yes to what excites you, not what scares you. Because the only way forward is through. And trust me, you were built for this journey.

Pile 5

Cards: PoS(X), Emperor, 5oP

My dear Pile 5, I know you feel like you’re not good enough. Not smart enough. Not pretty enough. Not enough in general. And I know you look around and think, "Everyone else has it figured out. Everyone else is so sure of themselves. Why can’t I be like that?"

But let me let you in on a little secret: most people in this world have absolutely no idea what the hell they’re doing. They just act like they do. They follow the crowd, go through the motions, and convince themselves they’re wise, all-knowing, and superior. But deep down? They’re just as lost as you are. The difference is, they fake it better.

Right now, you’re in The Emperor energy, and that’s actually a good thing. It means you’re not a quitter. You refuse to let life knock you down permanently. Even when you feel lost, you keep pushing forward. You keep redirecting yourself, trying to grab onto something—anything—that gives you a sense of control. That’s the thing about The Emperor. He needs structure, stability, a plan. And when things feel shaky, he tightens his grip even harder. That’s you right now—holding on, trying to make sense of everything, trying to create order in the chaos.

But here’s the part I need you to prepare for: Five of Pentacles at the end of the year.

I see you hitting rock bottom—or at least, feeling like you are. Maybe it’s burnout. Maybe it’s rejection. Maybe it’s just that overwhelming sense of, "I’ve done everything I can, and it still wasn’t enough." You might feel abandoned, like life is leaving you out in the cold. Like all your work, all your effort, all your struggle was in vain.

But listen to me. Do not let your insecurities hold you back.

Let me tell you a little story.

A guy once flirted with me. He was sweet, charming—I started liking him. But then, like any overthinker with internet access, I went through his followers list. I saw all these girls—prettier than me, more popular than me, seemingly better than me. And suddenly, my confidence shattered. I started acting weird, second-guessing everything. And guess what? He changed too. He started pulling away. What changed? Not him. Me. My insecurities drove him away before he even had a chance to make a real choice.

That’s the danger of self-doubt. It warps reality. It makes you sabotage things before they even have a chance to bloom.

And another story—this one about my career.

I got rejected. Not once. Not twice. Multiple times. My hard work was dismissed, overlooked, shut down. I could’ve taken that as a sign to stop. To quit. To believe I wasn’t good enough. But I didn’t. I kept going. And now? I have multiple contracts under my name, multiple projects. I made more money than I ever would have from the things that rejected me.

So tell me—was it my loss? Or theirs?

Had I given up, had I let my insecurities win, I wouldn’t be where I am today. And neither will you.

Pile 5, persevere. Even when it feels pointless. Even when you’re tired. Even when you think you’re not good enough. Because the truth is—you are. You just have to believe it before the world does.

I hope this PAC reached the people who needed to hear these messages and that they resonated with you. You're more than welcomed to write me your feedback if the readings resonate and help you in any way. I'll be more than glad to hear from you.

Also, if you’d like to stay updated on future PACs or personal readings, make sure to follow me! You can DM me for paid readings, or if you prefer, keep an eye out—I occasionally offer free personal readings as well.

Thank you!

- Love, Snow <3

[ghostiequill]

How they spend Valentines with you:

Law 

You think he doesn’t notice but he does little things all day; making your morning coffee, leaving you with the less tedious tasks on board, even accompanying you roaming around the town they docked at 

Meticulously planned secret gestures

Spending time together each doing own thing

He allows you to be in his office while he works, an honour few get, as long as you're not too loud

He lets you into his world-showing you his Sora comics/coin collection

Before this, you thought your captain was this stoic, serious man but he reveals his softer, nerdier side-his way of saying “I trust you”

The day ends with you both doing your own thing in his office, sharing snacks in a comfortable silence, no words are needed to say how you both feel 

Sir Crocodile

His love language-working you into his busy schedule

Lavish but more personal, time is his most valuable asset and and he chooses to spend it with you 

Before dinner, you spend the day in his office, he even lets you have a little control- tying his cravat and wearing his jacket as you both do your own thing

Later rents out a whole restaurant and listen to you talk about nothing and everything, his way of saying you're worth his time

He buys you something extravagant but something you need, practical but flashy, maybe with his jolly roger on it

He will almost never say the words directly, not yet, but as you’re enveloped by his jacket, you see a ghost of a smile grace his lips and his hand brush yours, those feel more powerful than any words could

Corazon

Clumsy but endearing

Picnic date on a hill

Constant conversation, yapping about nothing and everything, end up laughing the whole day-he feels warm and comfortable

Tries to light candles and lights the blanket on fire

He cuts little heart shapes in the sandwiches and fruit for your date and beams when you notice

He gives you something small but personal like a charm he carved himself or a stone that matches your eyes

When he says those fatal words, they come out mid conversation in the midst of laughter, raw and real, you know he means them 

Mihawk

Soft, quiet and domestic

He doesn't ask you to be his valentine but 

He cooks you a beautiful handmade dinner, complete with a expensive wine from his collection

He offers some conversation, but mostly listens to you, his eyes never leaving yours, lingering on every word you speak

After dinner, he takes you to look at the stars in his woods, pointing out constellations and their stories

He whispers those words you’ve been dreaming of hearing as he kisses you gently, hand cradling your cheek

Doffy

He doesn't ask, you ARE his valentine 

Lavish and bold, expensive 

He buys you something you do not need but he thinks you would look good in, his perfect accessory wearing something he's given you

He brings to to a lavish party with a possessive hand on you the whole day, proud to show you off but will kill anyone who so much as looks in your direction for too long 

Later in his office sitting with him sunglasses off, resting his eyes in his chair, his way of telling you he trusts you enough to let his guard down 

He’ll always be too proud to say those words to your face, but you know that in those quiet moments you both feel what you’re both too scared to admit 

Sanji

Planned down to the second

Kicks the crew out, docked at an island known for romance,

Breakfast in bed, heart pancakes

Everything is catered to your every need, no need for you to lift a finger throughout the entire day

Later slow dances with ou in the kitchen with a melody no one else can hear but you both

VERY good listener when you talk so he for sure gets a gift he knows you'll enjoy, not necessarily practical but something to show off your beauty and what you mean to him

He pulls you close and tells you, his eyes soft and full of love, pulling you in for a kiss, he wishes he could hold you this close forever 

[ybklix]

Wearing lose shirt with nothing underneath & sitting on his lap ?? 😵‍💫 Lee know?

minho’s lap😮‍💨

take it off

♡ lee minho

⟡summary: Your boyfriend loves to tease you and make you feel good even after a tiring day at work.

❀ pairing: idol lee know x fem reader

♡ genre - warnings: smut, established relationship, dom! minho, teasing, slight dirty talk, fingering, masturbation, spanking, unprotected sex

word count: 3k

a/n: my first request ig wohoo u little minhoes, is this how it works? lol, i had this in my head since minho is tio by zayn coded

You missed Minho, you haven't seen him for days because he was busy at work, you knew that during these dates it was difficult to see him, and then it became almost impossible once he returned to make his presentations, even staying all night in the place. But tonight he promised to see you, lately he ended up so tired that all he did was go to his dorm to rest, sadly you had to insist that he agreed to see you, he also missed you intensely but when it came to his work he got too serious, after all, he had a reputation and image to maintain.

You had cooked for Minho variety of his favorite dishes, you were a little exhausted but it would be worth it to see his tender face light up when he ate something delicious. You were in the kitchen, setting everything up when you heard the characteristic sound of your door indicating that someone was coming in, you smiled broadly and almost run to your foyer to see who it was. Minho was wearing blue jeans, a simple white shirt and a thin jacket loose to his body, he was completely covered even though it was a hot summer day in the city, he couldn't risk being recognized.

You pounced on him and hugged him by the neck, you had missed him so much you couldn't get enough of saying it, Minho reciprocated the hug right away, holding tightly to your lower back.

“Oh, y/n” Minho said while he could still breathe in the smell of your hair.

“Don't let us stop seeing each other for so long” you warned him in a stern but gentle tone once you parted.

Minho smiled as he watched you tenderly and nodded, removing his jacket and face mask.

“What's that?” you asked him as you noticed he was carrying plastic bags from somewhere he shopped in his hand.

“Ah, a dessert for later, come on let's go” Minho added confidently, walking into your apartment.

Minho walked next to you to the kitchen with his hand gently on your butt and finally saw what you had cooked for him.

“Woah, it looks delicious. Thank you, love” Minho walked over to you giving you a kiss on your head.

You watched his round eyes sparkle as he sat down to eat, you wanted to hear everything from him, even though you texted daily and were updated on every single thing he did, you wanted to hear him talk and talk.

“I'll take a picture and post it” he said before picking up the chopsticks.

You smiled at the horrendous angle he took the pictures and joined him for dinner. You didn't want to ask him about work, his face looked a little dull and tired that you didn't know if it was right to start talking about it, but there was nothing else to say, since he spent more time at the company than with you, you both knew that starting a relationship would be sometimes a lonely dynamic, still it was worth every second when you were with him, as if he rewarded you double and you forgot that you don't see him that often. Still you tried to be gentle and say to him:

“Did you have a long day today?”

Minho looked at you and stopped eating for a second.

“Yes, kind of, it was long because it was a day of waiting and small recordings, there were no rehearsals so I found it tedious.”

You could tell it was one of those days by seeing his perfectly coiffed hair and light makeup a bit already worn on his face.

“Did you pick the best pictures for the album?” you said to him amused.

“Sure, I posed like this” he replied amused making a random pose by putting his hands behind his head.

Minho smiled, adorably raising his high cheekbones and you caught his laughter. He kept telling you more details, you adored listening to him talk, he even shared his upcoming schedule to see which days he could dedicate his day only to you, you sighed watching him, sometimes you wanted to be a clingy girlfriend going everywhere he went but, you had to keep your posture.

“When we go to Busan, you're coming with me, I'm not asking you” he commented seriously looking at you intensely, you knew him well, yes he meant it but his intention of being intense was just him being a bit of a tease.

You nodded, giving him a kiss on the cheek; after a few minutes he wanted to tidy up and wash all the dishes used as he was always helpful no matter what, you begged to help him as he insisted that you should stay seated to rest the food.

You were next to him, helping him to dry the dishes while Minho washed each pot cautiously, you loved the closeness of his body, honestly you were totally willing for tonight to be one of those tender ones where later he takes a shower and you both go to sleep cuddled up, but you lost yourself in the movement of his big soapy hands, the skillful crush of the sponge and his marked arms with notorious veins... that's when you realized that you didn't just need Minho's company, you needed everything from him, and when you least thought about it, you remembered that it had been long days without sex. You decided to blame your random horny thoughts to the heat of the day, despite having your apartment cool, outside it was a total mess, strong sun during the day and dry and hot nights, you wore shorts and a loose button down blouse that Minho bought you on one of his many trips, he always did that, he bought something for you, but definitely his favorite thing to give you as a gift was clothes that matched his.

You were relieved that Minho didn't notice that you suddenly became aroused at the thought of his hands touching your body, nor that he noticed you looking at him shamelessly, he was just there innocently helping you wash your dishes; otherwise if he had noticed he would start with his double meaning comments and his arrogant little smile, you didn't want it now, you felt completely needy that you didn't need any more humiliation by your boyfriend.

You both finished and Minho decided to rest a bit in your living room making himself comfortable on the couch.

“You'll stay here to sleep, right?” you asked standing in front of him.

“Mmhum” gasped Minho as he stretched his body closing his eyes and trying to relax, “Seungmin is in charge of the dorm, I told him not to disturb at all.”

Minho stared at you, you smiled and were ready to sit next to him until you noticed how he patted his thigh indicating you to sit on his lap, you couldn't be happier and fell on his legs hugging his neck, positioning your body sideways on top of him. You loved sitting on his lap, his thighs were strong and worked, you were so comfortable and your ass accommodated perfectly with no problem, Minho also knew how much you loved it too, as well as slapping his thighs with your ass as you jumped on his cock.

For him it was simple, when he wanted to have you, he did, he would get hard in seconds when it came to you, he still loved to tease you and prolong the process, torturing you both.

“How much did you miss me?” he murmured with an arrogant tone in a low, thick voice.

You slowly lost your sanity as you looked into his leering eyes and heard his tone, oh god, you thought, of course he was going to fuck you tonight, you were so excited that your lower part started to react. Minho was holding you tightly by the waist with his left hand while with his right one, he caressed your thighs.

���You know that I missed you so much, Minho” you stared at him.

“I needed you too, princess.”

He said and moved closer to you to give you a slow, fiery kiss, you needed him so much, you wanted to jump on his cock now, you were so wet and ready, you wanted to feel full, you could feel him too, so hard in a short time, but Minho… he liked slow play and it was killing you inside.

You moaned between the kiss and pulled your body back as you felt Minho's heavy, warm hand rub your center on top of your garment, you knew perfectly well that Minho could keep you like this for a long time, kissing you hotly until your lips swelled; his hand on your waist began to slide inside your loose blouse finally feeling his touch of skin on yours, making you feel so good, Minho moved his hand up to notice your exposed tits, cupping them tightly as he moved his kisses down your jaw and neck, he was still surprised by the sudden delight of feeling your breasts in his hand.

“Why aren't you wearing anything underneath, princess?” he gasped between kisses, feeling his heavy, hot breath on your neck.

You hated talking when Minho made you so bad, your breathing was so ragged and ragged, but knowing him, you knew he always wanted an answer; if you didn't he would make a sudden move on you and growl through his teeth 'I'm talking to you'.

“It's a hot day and... I'm in the comfort of my home, Minho…” you tried to sound as poised as possible.

Minho smiled sideways and squeezed your nipples and the grip on your pussy tighter, causing you to reflexively close your legs a little.

“Or is it because you love to tease me and were so ready for me, kitten, wearing clothes with easy access” Minho whispered in your ear, massaging your breasts harder, “Besides, how do I know you weren't out there like a little slut going shopping to make dinner with nothing on underneath.”

You shook softly, when he made those kinds of comments you knew you were in for a bit of physical punishment so you bit your lip at the memory of his heavy hand on your ass.

“Stand up for a moment baby” he ordered you in a rough voice, you almost moaned as you stopped feeling his hands on you, it felt so wrong when he stopped touching you, “Turn around” he said and positioned you with your back to him.

You listened as he sat up a little from the couch and suddenly you felt his hand squeeze your thigh and then both them search for the button of your shorts, deftly removing them, you were so excited by every slow movement your boyfriend made and it was so unexpected, in a second he could kneel you down and make you suck his cock, or bend you over and start penetrating you, curiosity was eating you to know what he was going to do with you, but you just decided to enjoy every second of it.

Minho took the elastics of your panties and pulled them tight leaving your sensitive and wet pussy exposed, he massaged your ass with two of his hands and you felt a soft kiss on your skin, suddenly nothing, you turned around confused and found your boyfriend trying to pull down his tight pants from his thighs, despite being a bit baggy, once he sat down they became tight on his big legs and finally free him of that denim that burdened his cock. You bit your lip internally screaming to feel his stiff penis in you; Minho pulled down his underwear releasing his throbbing sex full of energy.

“Come here” he grabbed your arm tightly, “I want to smack your cute ass a little.”

You frowned confused trying to have an explanation, “But..” you tried to say but Minho was being rough moving you.

You swallowed nervously and put your abdomen on his thighs, leaving your ass at his mercy as you felt his erection rubbing a little on your waist.

“Don't expect me to be gentle” moaned Minho, lifting your big, loose blouse a little and giving you a hard spanking and then squeezing the injured area.

You gasped in pain, and pleasure as you felt his fingers fuck your entrance all of a sudden, Minho gave you another four hard spanks with his right hand, leaving his hand branded on your ass while with his other hand he mercilessly moved his fingers in you, you were so close to cumming from the pain and pleasure that you felt a little guilty that you find something like that so fucking exciting, but that was Minho, if he didn't make you suffer a little in sex then it wasn't him, even when you made love which was supposed to be sweet and romantic, he fucked you so deep that he made you dig your nails into his back.

Minho saw your legs contract waiting for you to unload all your tension, you were about to tell him you were going to cum, but he stepped forward and stopped, pulling you by your hair with his left hand and telling you full of desire, “Come here, I'm not done yet, you can't cum until I tell you.”

He made you sit back on his lap for which you moaned for your newly hurt ass, this time turning your back to him, you moaned as you felt his hard cock press against your back, he grabbed your waist a little to lift you up and position his dick between your wet labia, making you both moan, the firmness of his manhood felt so good pressed against your soaked cunt, enveloping it perfectly that you wanted to start moving, but you were completely in submissive mode, it was obvious that you couldn't do anything because it was one of those times when your boyfriend took total control.

Minho moved your loose hair out of the way and positioned his face on the side of your neck. He was so turned on he wanted to see everything of you, he was so needy for your pussy squeezing his cock but the long wait turned him on more, more with your needy gaze and sizzling gasps.

“Take off your shirt, baby” he commanded in your ear.

You were about to bend over and take it off over your head like any normal garment but Minho stopped you, “No, no, do it button by button.”

You almost whimpered at the feel of his throbbing cock under your dripping pussy and you being able to do nothing about it; with trembling hands you tried to do it as fast as you could while Minho watched with so much amusement.

“Good girl, you're a good girl for me” Minho murmured as he saw you managed to do as he asked, “Let's get it off” he gently slid your blouse off, finally leaving you naked.

“I want you to show me…” he muttered again, taking your dominant hand and bringing it to your cunt, “How much you missed me, I want to see how you played with your pussy pretending it was me, did you do that, princess?” gasped Minho.

“Yes” you moaned as you touched his tip pressing against your pussy.

It wasn't a lie, the nights were long and boring without Minho and your only companion at times was your faithful vibrator, but nothing compared to him.

You settled your body a little, rubbing your wetness against his erection and let yourself lean on his chest as you tried to stimulate your clitoris giving him the show he wanted. Your squirts were falling on his cock, you closed your eyes letting yourself go as he squeezed your thigh and your tit. Minho was getting the best view possible, watching you squirm for him as you rubbed his swollen cock.

You gasped, your entrance was a little hard to reach in that position and more so with your boyfriend's big erect dick between your folds.

“Were you moaning my name while you were doing it alone, you dirty slut?”

“Mmm… Mi-minho” you whimpered as you continued to play with your clit and subtly rubbed yourself on his cock.

Minho was so lubed too, he moaned to feel your little movements, if you kept this up he was about to cum too. You started stimulating yourself slowly but your heart rate was getting higher and higher, speeding up your own movements in your pussy too, you were so ready to cum on your boyfriend's cock that you were frustrated that you didn't want your own fingers to be the ones satisfying you, so you thought you were going to give him what he craved so much.

“Fuck me, Minho, do it now, please” you whined in his ear.

Minho smiled to hear you begging.

“Then sit on my cock now, princess, take it and ride it well” he gasped.

Agitated, trying to get back all your senses as you incorporated feeling the incredible wetness of your pussy and let yourself fall on Minho's cock, sliding so easily and smoothly inside of you, still, you ached. You both sighed in pleasure finally as you were joined and you began to jump up and down non-stop being heard in the room the grotesque sound of your wet cunt, your ass falling hard on Minho's thighs and the gasps of both of you.

“Cum for me, princess, cum all over my cock now” Minho whispered excitedly.

Minho helped you by holding your waist and when you felt a little overwhelmed you let yourself lean on his chest still with his t-shirt on and he began to ram you hard lifting his hips, while he played with your clit. You felt him so close too, you whimpered with bated breath and fell surrendered in orgasm, sitting on his cock and thighs.

“You did it so well, princess and dinner was delicious, thank you” Minho told you agitated but sweetly, stroking your hair.

[espionn]

Fly, Little Bird

i suppose this counts as my contribution to the stp drawing challenge!

honestly the apotheosis was never my personal favorite route, i've always been more of a witch/beast fan, but sometimes inspiration comes from unlikely places! i realized, watching the scene where she throws the long quiet into the tear in reality, how cool that shot must look from a 3rd-person view, so i decided to bring it to life myself.

a little more about the process for anyone interested:

i expected the hands to be a pain and they were. you can probably tell where i gave up in certain places. but ultimately at this scale they're just a bunch of noodles with a few bumps at the ends so they didn't take too terribly long, it was just a bit tedious.

what might have actually taken longer was the background. i really wanted to recreate the bg of the long quiet and damn was that a process. what you're seeing actually has several layers and it took a while to get something i was happy with, but i think it was worth it.

the shading on apotheosis herself actually wasn't that bad considering i did it all on one layer. limiting yourself to a few tones can do wonders

that green beam of light, meanwhile, was an asshole to draw and took a lot of trial and error. i think the end result serves its purpose, but it's probably the thing i'd most want to tweak in the future.

i'm super happy with the end result though, it's pretty much exactly what i hoped for and i did the whole thing in only a couple hours. im particularly happy with apotheosis's face, the background, and the long quiet's wings. might do more stp stuff soon who knows!

[seafoamreadings]

week of march 9th, 2025

these are written predominantly for the *rising* signs but they are also intuitively "channeled" enough that they should work for any dominant energy you have! (try your sun if you don't know rising, or more advanced readers can try moon, anywhere you have a stellium, etc and see what works best for you!)

aries: let all this week be a reminder to you of the sacred in the mundane, and the sacredness of your own physical vessel as a spiritual entity. it's not aligned to be an *easy* week but it is set to be worth any trials you face!

taurus: not to frighten you but you may be facing what is sometimes called a dark night of the soul. and/or some serious escapism issues, especially by the end of the week. while it's tempting to hide from all the chaos, especially as such a stable, stolid creature, this is not the time for it. it's the time to be the unstoppable force yourself.

gemini: there's a lot going on but you personally (unless you have dominance in virgo or pisces.....) can get away with mostly focusing on mercury retrograde maneuvers. do this well and you will prosper, even if it starts off a bit rough.

cancerians: while you are certainly sensitive to eclipses it's also a time when you shine - you live in the volatility of the moon as your home. for everyone else, it's a rare shakeup. for this week's variation, after filling your own cup and affixing your own oxygen mask, help anyone you can. near you or far.

leo: joining venus retrograde, mercury retrograde in aries means delays favor you, tedious though they may be. have all the patience you can muster. at the same time, this week's eclipse is about money, worth, and values for you. plus all the resources you draw from including time, which is never linear anyway.

virgo: there's no getting around the fact that this is an intense week. intense is a little bit of a euphemism for pretty tough. as always, wonderful things can and will happen! but be ready for the hard parts.

libra: the appearance that certain relationships take hit after hit is, really, more appearance than anything else. some damage may be real, but the projection of 'reality' you are seeing is particularly warped at this time. most things are not what they seem, especially in your 6th and 7th houses. your mundane tasks and your partnerships.

scorpio: be prepared for a week in which nothing seems to go according to plan. it is meant to be a time of chaos, so lean into that and don't try to force order where it doesn't want to and cannot be. your daily affairs and your friend groups see the main mishaps.

sagittarius: both private and public realms get a shakeup this week and you may feel stricken with writer's block or just like you can't force anything through that needs through. in that case, slow down and turn inward, and live magically instead of logically, just for a little while.

capricorn: frankly you're not hit as hard by the eclipse this week as many will be although you may find it easiest to stay at home for a few days. on the other hand, mercury (and still venus) retrograde do affect your home life too. this makes it a good place for introspection and recharging, but not as good a place for productivity and action.

aquarius: you're not hit as hard as many by the (very intense) chaotic vibes of this week and yet of course, as always, certain realms of life are always affected. a full moon eclipse does you few or no favors financially, so exercise caution with money and resources - especially ones you share. mercury retrograde crosses some wires but it's nothing you can't handle with a little patience.

pisces: you may find yourself forgetting mercury is even going retrograde with the eclipse in your 7th house affecting you (and the sun in your sign) so strongly. your self-relationships axis is highlighted - or on fire. learn all you can from it and know that nothing is truly permanent unless you make it so.

watch the transit posts in real time to have the best guide through your week. want a little more? have a look at my patreon or ko-fi.

check out my etsy for a private reading or fill out this form to set up a reading through venmo, cashapp, or paypal.

[devourable]

drunk cuddly darling + sober yan

vs

sober darling + drunk yan

do yans have any preference on either scenario or is it just no bueno either way

im just gonna simplify this ask down a bit. m!yanderes + f!yanderes x cuddly drunk gn darling 🫶 (no poly/non humans for the sake of my sanity)

⛪️ ;; abe is not the type to drink, never has been and never will be, even if you pressure him to drink more, so while he doesn’t exactly approve of you getting drunk either, he just cant bring himself to be mad at you. not when you’re being so sweet to him! he’s happy that you’re content to just be held by him until you fall asleep rather than get into any trouble that he’s not prepared to deal with. be ready to wake up to a scolding by him though, you could get sick if you go overboard! even if he kind of likes it when you do.

[cw dubcon] 🖥️ ;; god bless any darling who gets drunk around gene because if he can tell you’re inebriated he’s either trying to fuck you or is equally as hammered (if not more). so when you get drunk and start getting all touchy with him he sees it as an invitation to take things further. you wanted the attention, you can’t get mad at how he chooses to give it! it isn’t his fault, you just make really cute faces when you’re wasted. he’ll give you a little apology gift for your sore insides when you’re up the next day — one most likely made up of painkillers and your favorite takeout.

🪶;; it irritates sterling to no end that you got drunk. don’t you know you have an image to uphold? he’s prattling on and on about how he’s sick of your disgraceful behavior and how unbecoming it is for you to waste your time fucking up your brain, until your arms are around him and you’re snuggling up against him. then his words are all caught in his throat and hes tripping through his sentences, half heartedly trying to reprimand you still, but he eventually settles down and (begrudgingly) holds you until you’re asleep. he’ll swear to himself its only this one time; if you remember the next day and try to tease him about it he literally wont talk to you for a week.

💪 ;; valentina had already planned to simply cuddle you till you went to sleep, so the fact that you initiated it makes her elated. she likes how it feels when you squirm in her arms, too out of it to be able to do anything but what she wants. it’s like she’s handling a living doll! she carries you around like one, too, going about her day with one hand and holding you you with the other. yes, it makes doing things way more difficult and yes, the arm she carried you with will be sore for days, but it’s well worth it to her.

[cw dubcon, again] 👑 ;; althea ordered you to go to bed the moment you stumbled into her presence in your inebriated state. when you instead clung to her and insisted on cozying up instead, while it annoyed her, she took it upon herself to make sure you got to bed and couldn’t get into any trouble. but you insisted on her staying with you! and the way you tangled her body up with yours and dragged your hands across her form in a move that couldn’t have been entirely innocent (to her, at least), allie couldn’t help but help herself to your body. you practically owed it to her, anyway; and the way you whimpered and sighed for her proved that you didn’t seem to mind too much anyway.

🥩 ;; rhodes doesn’t particularly care for drunks, they’re used to them being loud and obnoxious. so they’re not exactly happy when they find you after having a bit too much to drink. they’e expecting a tedious night of making sure you don’t hurt yourself or others, so it’s a pleasant surprise when you seek them out for comfort instead. they still would prefer you being sober so you’d be able to better appreciated them taking the day off to be with you, but they’re satisfied with the time you spend with them regardless.

[physalian]

Whatever project you're too afraid to start, just go for it

I know a lot of my posts lately have been video/content creation-related but I just want to say:

The learning curve that I have had to climb in the past week alone has been both frustrating as hell and ridiculously rewarding.

Already, I had to refresh my memory on basic video editing and sound comping, but for the first seven episodes of my little series I’d accepted the average quality of my voice recording as cest la vie, I’m not sinking money into this without proof of concept, you’re supposed to be a little rough around the edges when you’re first starting out. But one thing I couldn’t get over was the clipping from some technobabble shenanigans with frequencies that isn’t important here.

What I thought was a quick fix—replace and double the RAM in my laptop—was absolutely not the source of the problem and suddenly I was in the deep end trying to fix broken audio in post while also troubleshooting an issue no one else seemed to have between my microphone and my recording software and I was about tempted to just use my desktop mic, the built-in, because at least I could somewhat fix that in post.

After far too many hours deep in discussions with strangers on the internet who were very helpful, I half-fixed the problem. My mic stopped clipping, but it was distorting pretty heavily between two different processers and my recording software hated it for a whole different reason.

Reluctant Plan B was to record gameplay live, but record audio separately/after and then sync them in post. If you’ve ever made a gaming video like these, you’re staring at probably 15+ clips of useable content over the course of recording sessions, which means 30+ clips with all the separately recorded audio, and since I can’t hit start/stop congruently with both programs, they would always be a little bit off, which meant more tedious editing.

Why? Because I was recording in Program A, fixing audio in Program B, and editing the video together in Program C, and Program C is for like, tiktoks, not professional youtube videos. I was only using it because I was already paying for it in an Adobe package with InDesign.

Enter DaVinci Resolve.

It’s like, Photoshop compared to MS Paint, a free one-stop-shop for video and audio editing (and visual effects, this thing is used to make blockbusters) and here’s me still confused by all these audio terms like ratio, attack, threshold, etc.

So I’m still wading through tutorials, all while my mic only works through Program B, Audacity, with an episode deadline looming over me. From the time I committed to initially fixing my audio by replacing the RAM, to episode release date, I had 6 days. Today is day 4.

And I’m still without a proper recording setup because Program A hates my microphone. But I am not missing this deadline, not just for the youtube algorithm, but because I know I can make it.

So episode 8, at the time of writing this, I have only 9 minutes and 25 seconds all edited and ready to go, out of 22-24 that I usually publish. So what have I done?

Fuckin’ taught myself DaVinci Resolve and committed to recording my vocal track in post just this once, doing it over and over again until it sounds as genuinely live as it can, and doing regular voiceover and music montages wherever else I can to fill the time with meaningful content.

All to buy myself time for my replacement mic to deliver so I can get back to proper live recordings, because at this point, the time it takes to fix terrible audio in post isn’t worth it, when I can spend a little bit of money for a mic that isn’t 8 years old and is built for gaming, not podcasting (but I am keeping the problem child as a backup, because it’s not broken).

I’m waiting for a timelapse to render while I write this, staring at a workflow with one video source and 3 different audio layers—game sound, vocals, and music—and I can almost turn my brain off when trimming things because that part I already know how to do.

This thing is a mess, to be clear, but it sure as hell won’t look like a mess when I hit publish on time two days from now.

But like…. 3 weeks ago I knew next to none of this, beyond basic video editing I learned back in college. And here I am with my double-wide monitor up and professional video making software quietly churning along in the background.

So just—if you want to do it? Go fuckin’ do it. Whatever it is that you’ve been holding off on pursuing. When I started I already owned things like a gaming laptop (that I bought to run photoshop so I could paint), an 8-year-old podcasting mic from a dropped podcast attempt, my game of choice, and I was already paying for the bare bones version of Premiere: Premiere Rush.

But heck, even if I had none of the fancy equipment, the only limiting factor would have been my computer’s processing power to run all these programs at once, and I would have figured it out.

I’m a perfectionist bound and determined to fix my audio, but I didn’t hear any complaints when it was jank, and I’m learning all this because the whole process, not just the gameplay, is just so fun and fascinating.

[hannahssimblr]

The kitchen smells like baking that evening. Gitte made brownies for us. We’re having them now, with coffee around the table, despite eating very little but sweets all day already. Marzipan, everywhere. Lying out on the counter, irresistible each time I pass the plate, and so sweet my teeth are singing. 

It was her idea to play board games, a tradition, she said, though the moment we sit down and take the Matador board out of its box, I’m aware of the tension between Astrid and Mia. Simmering all day. Them, snapping at one another, often in English as though it is specifically for my benefit. Like, listen to this, Jude, I’m calling your girlfriend lazy. Are you going to take her side? Jude, I would like you to know my sister is rude, and doesn’t understand the basic rules of socialisation. 

“Excuse the board,” Mia says, smoothing her hands over it. “It has been through a lot over the years.” She says this, her eyes rolling up to meet mine, as though I should know precisely what she means. It’s an old board, discoloured, and what used to be green, has faded and yellowed under hands. The paper retreats from corners and centre crease, and it is buckling, too, like abandoned in a damp room for years. 

It’s Monopoly, basically. Playing the Danish version, with its distinct money and street names, reveals similar rules. The five of us rolling dice and circling the board. It’s an immensely dull affair, really. I’ve always thought so. And goes on for so many eventually tedious hours that normally I abandon it before the end. We never were a board game family, anyway. Tried to be, once, before we accepted it was all pretend. Scrabble was the game of choice, naturally, for Christopher and Colette who loved any opportunity to show off their towering vocabularies, casually tossing down words like “xiphoid” and sitting there, all smug, while I countered with the word “bum”, not only lowering the tone, but breaking the rule against crude words that was created specifically for me. 

My lack of initiative to win at board games extends to this, Matador, now, as I sit more interested in Gitte’s brownies, they have nuts in them, than the single house piece I have placed at the beginning of the board. “Uh oh, you got me again,” I say, mouthful of chocolate, having landed on Pernille’s house. I fork over rent payment from my dwindling savings. 

“I’ll take you for everything you’re worth, boy!” 

I make a big deal of paying her, acting as though it is hard to part with while she snatches it from me with relish and sorts it into her growing piles. All of this, the playacting, the lightheartedness, we have curated specifically to distract from the deteriorating dynamic between her younger sisters, both glowering over the board. Foolishly hoping if we act like it is not happening, it will go away on its own.

“Aha! Hotel, please!” Mia claps and extends her hand for a piece, which she places proudly, lined up neatly on her red plot, while Astrid rolls her eyes. “Yes, good for you. It’s just a piece of plastic, though, so I wouldn’t be so excited.”

“A piece of plastic that will cost you five-hundred kroner to land on.”

“Oh, wow, I am shocked. It is so much.”

“Well, in this game it is, Astrid. You pretend inflation has not happened.”

On Astrid’s turn, she rolls a chance card. I hold my breath. “Oh, God,” she groans. “Pay one-hundred kroner to the bank. Again?” She huffs and hands her money to Gitte. “Why must I always pull the punishing cards? I never get the one telling me I have won the lottery.”

“Those hardly come up,” I say. “I’m sure you’ll get one next time. You’ve just been unlucky in this game.” On my next turn, I pull a chance card and win the lottery. I try to hide it in my hand, saying, “Ah, I have to pay a fine.”

“No,” Gitte says, peering over my shoulder. “You have misunderstood. This card means you have won money.”

I look at Astrid, her mouth a line, a red flush creeping up her neck. “Okay,” I say, “Yeah, it’s a language thing. Thanks Gitte. I… Hey, an idea. Can I give this money to Astrid, do you think? Her pile is looking pretty low over there, and I really don’t care. I’m not a materialistic guy.”

Mia snorts. “No, of course you can’t. That is cheating.”

Astrid looks like she might kill me if I don’t hand over my fake kroner. 

“It could be like a loan kind of thing, do you think? Or a charity donation? Surely that’s in the rule book somewhere.”

Mia knows as well as I do that this is ridiculous. She heaves a sigh from the effort of having to point it out. “Plainly, Jude, you can’t give your money to her. She has to earn it.” 

Everyone agrees but Astrid, sulking across the table. Gitte whispers with a squeeze of my arm: “That was kind of you.” 

Well, I feel like a criminal. 

As the game goes on, the performance of everyone else falls into irrelevancy. It is about Mia and Astrid, the growing friction between them, and the increasing divergence of their performance. Mia thrives. More houses. More luck, more money, while Astrid’s savings dwindle down, eventually to her final six-hundred kroner. 

Watching it, it hardly seems fair. Like chance has favoured Mia, while deciding to inflict cosmic punishment upon Astrid, whose face is doing something to my stomach. Making it tie in knots, like it is my fault for not fixing this disaster. Tension is an entity. The rest of us go on pretending the game is fun. Trying our best to joke around Mia’s arrogance, Astrid’s frustration. 

And then a crescendo. Astrid pulls her final chance card. Go to Rødovrevej. The site of Mia’s hotel. 

“Ah, not so little money now, is it?” Mia gloats, the debt collector. She sticks her hand out, wiggling her fingers, singing, “five-hundred kroner, please!”

Astrid is red. She looks madly at all our piles, eyes on a tour of comparison. She’ll be losing after this. Faring worse than even me, the one that isn’t trying, which carries its own unique flavour of humiliation. Then she sits snap upright. “I’m bored, anyway. I don’t want to play this stupid game.”

“Oh! Typical!” Mia cries with something like delight. “It took longer than I thought, but I knew you would do this.” Her attention snaps to me. “Jude, do you know why the board looks like this?”

“Mia!”

“Because every time we play this game, Astrid loses, and then she throws the board off the table, and ruins it for everyone.”

Gitte’s hands are on her forehead. “No,” she groans. “Let’s not fight today.”

“Jude, she did it about three years ago. We don’t play this game anymore because of her. She doesn’t know how to lose.”

Pernille escapes the table, her chair scraping on the floorboards. Footsteps up the stairs while Astrid snaps back. “Because of the way you play! You love to gloat and make that stupid face like you are better than everyone else. You are a sore winner!”

Mia’s voice is droll, sitting back as though discussing the events from this morning’s newspaper. “You don’t like to see anybody doing better than you. You cannot take it.”

“Astrid, Mia…” Gitte protests, but they ignore her. Astrid trembles, her voice climbing with every word. “You love to play these games, and push my buttons so I get angry, and then you can be so smug about how you are so measured and calm. You don’t think everyone can see how you speak to me? Everything you say is intended specifically to annoy me.”

“Well then, you think very much of yourself.”

“It is you that thinks that.”

Mia’s eyebrows shoot up. “Me?”

“Yes. You think you’re so great and so cultured and fancy now that you have your degree, and you come home and flaunt it around and expect everyone to be impressed.”

“You think I think I am above people?”

“Yes!”

“You think I think that? We are talking about me?”

Gitte, then. “God, save me.”

“Who else? Yes, you, Mia. You have thought you were the better sibling your whole life.”

“What?” Mia, now, glancing around the room as though to check she has not transported to a parallel reality. “What you are trying to say is insane. Do you have any awareness of yourself? If there is anyone in the family selfish, stuck up and completely self-obsessed, it’s you.”

Astrid’s eyes flash with rage. “Shut up!”

“You shut up! What is wrong with you?”

“What is wrong with you? Excuse me. You’re the one who has acted completely weird your whole life. The one who nobody wanted to be friends with.”

“Okay, okay,” that’s me, now, hands up, attempting to diffuse. “I think that’s probably enough of that.”

Astrid looks at me, a blink, stunned, as though she had completely forgotten I was there. Her expression is strange, and then, after a few seconds of dead silence, she gets up, and she leaves the room. Mia goes moments later, though not to finish the fight in the hallway, as I feared, but to the office and begins playing the piano.

I sit with Gitte, the pieces of the board game scattered around the table like debris in the aftermath of a hurricane. Her head is still in her hands, bony shoulders rising and falling. 

“Are you alright?”

“Oh, yes. They do this sometimes, go.” she waves me away. “Go and be with Astrid. She will want your company.”

“Right,” I say, and leave the kitchen to follow my girlfriend upstairs.

Beginning // Prev // Next

[peavhyshy]

⋆˚ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ - SHOPPING SPREE

ᯓᡣ𐭩 pairing ─ ୨୧ ─ Boyfriend!Rafe Cameron ⋆ Pogue!Reader

ᯓᡣ𐭩 summary ─ ୨୧ ─ in which Rafe goes over-the-top as usual to apologize for cheating which includes a grand gesture of buying out an entire boutique is creatively meant to.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 warnings ─ ୨୧ ─ strong language, fluff, semi smut (but not really), power dynamics, mental/emotional manipulation and ulterior motives, reference to cheating, sexually suggestive situations, non-consensual elements (pressure/coercion into sexual acts), dubious consent, unhealthy relationship, discomfort/anxiety, misogyny/objectification.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 wc ─ ୨୧ ─ 5,130

⋆˚✿˖° a/n ─ ୨୧ ─ It's been a while since I posted on here and whatever so here I am, but who's to say I won't disappear for another few months.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Outer Banks Masterlist ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Navigation ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

Rafe sauntered into the high-end boutique, the little bell above the door announcing his arrival. The sales associates perked up, eyeing his Ralph Lauren polo and Sperry boat shoes. Ah, a Kook with money to burn. 

"Hello sir, can I help you find anything today?" the manager asked, her voice dripping with fake pleasantness.

"Yeah, I need to buy out like, your whole store," Rafe said nonchalantly, checking out a display of cashmere sweaters. 

The associates' eyes widened in surprise and delight. "Buy out the whole store, sir?"

"Yep. I screwed up badly with my girl. She's a Pogue, you know? Doesn't really do the whole fancy clothes thing. But she found out I cheated on her with some Touron last week, and now she's pissed." Rafe picked up a floral sundress, scrutinizing it. "So I figured, what better way to say sorry than decking her out in some new designer threads?"

The manager nodded enthusiastically. "I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture. Let me start ringing up some items for you."  

"Nah, like I said, I want to buy out the whole damn store. Just name your price." Rafe pulled out his credit card, waving it around.  

The manager's eyes lit up at the thought of the huge commission she was about to make. "Of course, sir, let me calculate our current retail inventory value and I'll give you a total."

"Make it quick. I’ve got a picnic on the beach planned to beg for her forgiveness," Rafe said, leaning on the cash wrap counter impatiently. 

The manager returned shortly with the grand total. Rafe didn't even blink as he handed over his credit card. Anything to get his Pogue princess back.

Rafe leaned against the wall near the cash register, watching with disinterest as the store employees scurried around grabbing items off racks and shelves.

"Come on, pick up the pace," he called out impatiently. "I wanna get out of here before the sun goes down."

The manager gave him an appeasing smile as she stuffed an armful of sundresses into a large box. "We're going as fast as we can, sir. I really appreciate your business - this is the biggest sale we've ever had!"

Rafe just shrugged, stifling a yawn. The workers were cramming the boxes full of tissue paper and accessories, trying to maximize what they could fit. Shoes, handbags, skirts, tops - everything was being cleared off the floors and walls. 

One associate struggled to fold a pile of cashmere sweaters to fit in an overflowing box while another carefully wrapped up a display of fine china jewelry. The store was slowly emptying out as the minutes ticked by.

"Ugh, this is taking forever," Rafe groaned, pulling out his phone to scroll aimlessly. "I should've just gone to Party City and bought her a bunch of balloons or something." 

The manager's smile strained a bit as she kept up her enthusiastic energy. "Almost done, sir! Just a few more minutes and you'll have our entire inventory to present to your lovely girlfriend."

"Yeah, yeah," Rafe muttered, back to being bored. Buying out the whole store was proving to be more tedious than he had anticipated. But hey, you were worth it. Probably.

”I need all of this shipped to her beach house.”

The manager nodded as she taped up another overstuffed box. "Of course, sir. I can arrange delivery to any address you'd like."

She gestured to one of the other employees. "Sara, can you grab some shipping labels? We'll need to send all of these boxes to this gentleman's girlfriend's house once we're finished packing everything up."  

Sara hurried to grab a stack of shipping labels and a pen. "What's the address, sir?" she asked Rafe.

"Oh, uh..." Rafe scratched his head. "Somewhere in The Cut, not really sure of the exact address. It's a small blue house near the bay though, it has a tire swing out front. Think the name on the mailbox is L/N or something like that."

Sara looked confused. "Do you have the street name or number? There are a lot of small blue houses in The Cut."

Rafe rolled his eyes. "Jesus, I don't know that shit. Her dad's name is Hank though, if that helps. Everyone knows Hank the Tank down there."

The manager and Sara exchanged a look, neither seeming confident about locating the right address. 

"Tell you what," Rafe continued, pulling out a thick wad of cash from his back pocket. "Here's 500 bucks. That should cover you guys figuring out where the hell to deliver all this stuff to Y/N in The Cut. I'm sure one of the Pogues down there can point you in the right direction."

He tossed the cash on the counter and headed for the door without another word, leaving the overwhelmed store employees with boxes piled high and vague delivery information.

You squinted against the setting sun as three large delivery trucks rumbled down the sandy driveway toward your family's weathered beach house. You set down your cards on the rickety picnic table, where you had been playing an intense game of Crazy Eights with John B, JJ, Sarah, and Kiara.

"What the hell is this?" you muttered. The trucks parked haphazardly amidst the uncut grass and strewn beach debris surrounding the house. Drivers hopped out and opened up the backs, revealing piles and piles of boxes crammed to the brim.

"Whoa, did you order the entire Amazon warehouse or something?" JJ joked, sauntering over to inspect the deliveries. 

Before you  could respond, the porch boards creaked loudly under the weight of multiple pairs of high-heeled shoes. The group turned to see half a dozen boutique store employees teetering across the uneven ground, laden with clothing on hangers and large shopping bags.

"Oh no..." you groaned, realization dawning on you. 

"Delivery for Ms. Y/N L/N!" one of the women trilled, scanning the rural beachfront for the recipient. 

"That's you, Y/N," John B said, giving you a puzzled look.

Just then, a delivery man approached with an oversized bouquet of roses and a card. "Are you Ms. Y/N? These are for you along with all of these boxes."

"I'm going to kill him," you seethed, grabbing the card. Sure enough, it was from Rafe, attempting to apologize for cheating in his usual over-the-top Kook fashion.   

The others laughed, taking in the three trucks overflowing with designer clothes and accessories that had arrived on your doorstep.  The group whooped and raced toward the trucks, laughing at Rafe's attempt to buy back your forgiveness. You had to admit - it was a pretty damn good start.

The sun had just set over the expansive Cameron estate as you marched up the long driveway and let yourself in the front door. You breezed past the elaborate foyer and down the hall towards the state-of-the-art home gym, where you knew you would find Rafe. 

Sure enough, there he was - shirtless and pumping iron, the clanking of weights echoing through the large room. You crossed your arms, watching as Rafe finished his set of bicep curls before acknowledging your presence. 

"Oh hey babe," he said casually, setting down the dumbbells. "I see you got my gifts."

"You mean the eighteen-wheeler trucks filled with designer clothes that choked the road to my house all afternoon?" you replied sharply.  

Rafe grinned. "So I take it, you liked them?"

You rolled your eyes. "Did you seriously buy out the entire Verona Boutique?"

"Maybe," Rafe shrugged, grabbing his towel to wipe the sweat from his brow. 

"Why would you do that?" you asked in exasperation. 

"Come on, I was just trying to apologize for what I did," Rafe said. "I wanted to show you how much you mean to me."

You sighed heavily. "You can't buy me off with fancy clothes, Rafe. That's not how this works."  

Rafe stood up and walked over to you. "But did it at least make you smile a little?" he asked with a coy grin. 

Despite yourself, You felt the corners of your mouth turn upward. You shook your head, trying to fight the smile. 

"You're unbelievable," you scoffed. But Rafe took your reaction as a promising sign. 

"So...am I forgiven?" he asked. 

You shrugged, struggling to stay stern. "You're not off the hook yet. But...it's a start."

Rafe smiled victoriously and pulled you into an embrace. You hated to admit it, but his over-the-top gesture did melt away some of your anger. Only a Kook would think that buying out an entire boutique could fix cheating - but you had to give him points for creativity.

Rafe's face lit up with a delighted grin as he saw the smile fighting its way onto your lips. Score! He knew you couldn't stay mad at him for long, not when he pulled out all the stops with his over-the-top apology gifts. Sure, buying you an entire wardrobe wasn't exactly practical, but he wanted to go big to show you how much he cared. Because even though he screwed up by cheating, your were still his girl and he needed you to know you were #1. No Touron hookup could ever mean anything compared to you.

Pulling you tighter into his embrace, Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your head as you nuzzled into his bare chest. He could tell the wheels were still turning in your mind, trying to decide if you were ready to fully forgive  him yet. But he had plenty more tricks up his sleeve if needed. Diamonds, a new car, a trip to Paris - anything you wanted, it was yours. Being the heir to the Cameron fortune had its perks when you needed to get yourself out of the doghouse.

"So when are you gonna model some of these new outfits for me, hmm?" he murmured suggestively in your ear. "Maybe a private fashion show tonight? I'll even let you use my black AmEx again if you want to pick up some sexy lingerie to complete the looks." He grinned devilishly.

You rolled your eyes and gently pushed out of his embrace. "Down boy. You're not off the hook yet," you reminded him, though your tone had softened considerably. Rafe held up his hands in mock surrender.

"Okay okay, I know. But you gotta admit, the mental image is pretty hot," he said with a wink. you just shook your head, trying to hide your smile. You could never stay irritated with him for long. 

"Alright, I should get home and figure out what to do with the small mountain of designer clothes currently cluttering up my living room," You sighed. "I still can't believe you bought out the entire store."

Rafe waved a hand casually. "Don't even trip about it. Consider it just a small token of my love," he said smoothly.

You quirked an eyebrow. "A small token? Rafe, it's got to be worth at least $20,000 worth of stuff."

Rafe shrugged. "Meh, that's like pocket change for me, babe. You're worth it and so much more." He pulled you in for a quick kiss. "I'll swing by later to help you sort through it all, yeah?"

You nodded, a genuine smile breaking through now. "Yeah, okay. I'll see you later." you gave him one last peck on the lips before heading out, shaking your head slightly at your ridiculous boyfriend's attempt to buy your forgiveness. But even you had to admit it was a pretty damn adorable gesture. The boy was utterly smitten, that much was clear. And even if it took a small army of delivery trucks worth of designer clothes to prove it, you supposed you couldn't complain. After all, what girl didn't love a massive shopping spree courtesy of the Cameron family fortune?

Rafe sauntered up the stairs of your beach house, not bothering to knock before letting himself in. your dad was away on a fishing charter and he knew you’d be home alone trying to organize the massive shipment of clothes he had sent over as an apology gift.

"Knock knock, princess!" he called out as he strode down the hall to your bedroom. "Did you get a chance to try on any of the new outfits I bought you?"

He pushed open your bedroom door to find you sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by mounds of tissue paper and discarded shopping bags. You looked up at him in exasperation.

"Rafe! You could at least knock before barging into my room," you admonished. 

“My bad, didn't mean to startle you. Just excited to see my gifts being put to use," he said with a grin.

You sighed, gesturing to the chaos around you. "Well, I've been trying to sort through it all morning but there's just so much stuff. You went way overboard as usual."

"Anything to make my girl happy," Rafe replied smoothly, plopping down on the floor next to you. "Here, let me help you get organized."

He began sifting through the piles of clothing, occasionally holding up items for your inspection. "Ooh, you have to model this one for me," he said, grabbing a lacy black teddy. "And this mini skirt would look so hot on you."

You blushed deeply, snatching the risqué items out of his hands. "Rafe! My dad could be home any minute," you hissed in embarrassment.

"So? I want him to see how smoking his daughter looks in the outfits I bought her," Rafe said with a devilish grin. "Might make him finally approve of me."

You buried your face in your hands. "You're unbelievable," you groaned. "Can we please just focus on organizing? I don't have time for an impromptu fashion show."

"Fine fine, I'll behave. For now," he added in a playful whisper.

You guys spent the next hour sorting your new wardrobe into categories - dresses, tops, bottoms, shoes, jewelry. Rafe "helped" by periodically holding up scandalous lingerie pieces and wiggling his eyebrows suggestively until you threaten to smack him with a stiletto heel.

Despite your exasperation at the overabundance of clothing, you had to admit it was fun exploring all the different styles and accessories Rafe had picked out for you. The boy definitely knew your taste, even if he did go over-the-top with buying out the entire store. You made a mental note to donate some of the clothes to charity once you had a chance to try it all on.

You collapsed backwards onto a pile of cashmere sweaters. "Phew! We’re almost done." You smiled over at Rafe. "Thanks for your help. And for the very generous gift. Even though it's pretty ridiculous you bought out an entire store," you added with a laugh.

Rafe grinned and leaned down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. "Anything for my princess," he murmured. "You deserve to be spoiled rotten."

You giggled as he nuzzled your neck, wrapping your arms around him. You supposed you couldn't stay irritated with him for long, not when he was just trying to show his affection through expensive gifts. Over-the-top as it may be.

"Alright Casanova, that's enough distracting me," You said, playfully nudging him away. "Now help me get all of these clothes put away in my closet before my dad gets home."

You shook your head in amusement. "You're absolutely ridiculous. But…" You tilted your head up to him and smiled."I love you for it."

Rafe playfully tackled you onto the pile of cashmere sweaters you had been sorting through. You let out a surprised squeal, smacking his chest lightly as he hovered over you. "Rafeee, I told you to behave!" you chided through your laughter. He just grinned mischievously, dipping his head to kiss along your neck and collarbone as you squirmed beneath him ticklishly.

"Mm mm, you know I can never keep my hands off you for long," he murmured against your skin, nipping lightly. His hands slid up under your shirt, tracing along your stomach and ribs. You shivered at the contact, cheeks flushing as you felt him growing hard against your thigh already. You really shouldn't be doing this with your dad liable to come home any minute…but then again, the risk just made it more exciting.

You bit your lip, hesitating only a moment longer before grabbing Rafe's face and crashing your lips to his in a hungry kiss. He groaned into your mouth, grinding his hips down against yours. Things were escalating fast, all thoughts of organizing clothes now tossed aside. Rafe broke the kiss only to tug your shirt over your head swiftly. His eyes drank in the sight of your breasts encased in a lacy pink bra.

"Damn baby…have I mentioned how fucking sexy you look in all these new lingerie pieces I bought you?" He reached around to unclasp your bra, leaning down to take one of your nipples in his mouth. You whimpered, arching into him. You were quickly losing the willpower to stop this and he knew it. His hands slid under your skirt, fingers dipping beneath your panties to find you wet and ready for him already. His hands wandered recklessly over your body, groping and grasping wherever they pleased..

"R-Rafe, my dad…" You gasped half-heartedly in protest even as your body betrayed you, arching into his touch.

Rafe silenced you with another bruising kiss, grinding his arousal against you. His fingers tangled in your hair, using it as a handle to maneuver your head for better access to your neck and chest.

"Shh, don't worry about him," Rafe crooned, his breath hot against your ear. "It's just us right now." His knee nudged between your legs, parting your thighs as he claimed your mouth once more.

Your knees went weak, overwhelmed by the onslaught of Rafe's hungry kisses and wandering hands. You clung to his shoulders for support, unable to form a coherent thought beyond the sparking heat of his body pressed to yours. Your token protests died away as Rafe's skilled fingers caressed the soft skin of your breasts.

"That's my good girl," he praised darkly when you arched into his touch instead of pulling away. His knee rubbed teasingly between your legs as he continued his pleasurable assault, intent on showing you exactly who was in control here.

Your mind reeled, inner alarm bells drowned out by the pounding heartbeat in your ears. You knew you should push Rafe away, stop this before it went too far with your dad possibly home any minute. But your traitorous body seemed to have other ideas as it melted shamefully against Rafe's hard frame.

His kisses left you dizzy and compliant, willpower evaporating under the intoxicating strokes of his hands. But when those hands went to zip down your skirt, some deeply buried remnant of reason sparked back to life inside you.

"Rafe, stop," you gasped out, catching his wrists in your hands. He paused, eyes dark with lust and irritation at being denied his prize.

"Come on baby, don't be like that," he cajoled, leaning in to nip at your earlobe. "I know you want this too."

You shook your head, gently but firmly removing his hands from your body. "No, not now. Not here." Your cheeks burned but you held your ground. "I'm not comfortable going any further with my dad so close by. Can we please just…slow down?"

Rafe's jaw tightened, displeasure evident at having his fun interrupted. But after a tense moment he stepped back.

"Fine, princess, whatever you say," he relented, tone dripping with poorly concealed frustration. You let out a shaky breath, tugging your rumpled clothing back into place. Your lips still tingled from the force of Rafe's kisses but the frenzied moment had passed.

"Thank you. I'm sorry, I just don't want our first time to be so…rushed," You said earnestly, hoping he could understand despite his obvious annoyance at being denied. His eyes remained dark but he managed a tight smile.

"Yeah yeah, I got it. Wouldn't want Daddy dearest walking in on us anyway," he said with an eye roll. You smiled weakly, knowing that was as close to understanding as you would get from him right now. At least he had backed off for the moment. But you had a feeling this conversation was far from over. Rafe did not like being told no.

He swallowed down his anger, forcing his face into a strained smile. He had to play this carefully; you Lila too much and you’d bolt. No, he needed to lure you in gently, make you trust him completely.

"Of course, princess. We'll take this at your pace," he said smoothly, stroking your cheek. "I just got carried away because you're so damn irresistible." He kissed your forehead, the very picture of understanding despite the lust still raging inside him.

You visibly relaxed, giving him a shy smile. "Thank you, Rafe. I'm glad you understand. I promise, when the time is right…" You trailed off, blushing. Rafe tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your neck teasingly.

"Don't worry baby, I'll make it so good for you when you're ready," he purred. You shivered, skin tingling from his touch. "For now, why don't you model some of these new outfits for me? Might give me a sneak peek of what I have to look forward to." He grinned devilishly.

You laughed, swatting his chest playfully. "You're incorrigible," you admonished, but went to pick out a few items from the piles of new clothes. Rafe settled on your bed, hungry eyes tracking your every movement.  For now, he would enjoy the little fashion show. But it was only a matter of time before those clothes ended up scattered across the bedroom floor instead.

A relieved smile crossed your face as Rafe appeared to accept your request to slow things down without argument. You knew he must be frustrated, but you appreciate him respecting your boundaries for now. There would be a right time and place for intimacy later on.

As you sifted through the piles of new clothes, Your smile faltered slightly. You could feel Rafe's intense gaze following your every movement, almost palpable in its hunger. It sent a shiver down your spine, but not entirely an unpleasant one. Still, something about the glint in his eyes gave you pause.

You selected a few simple, conservative outfits to model - a loose fitting sundress, some shorts with a flowy blouse. But Rafe tsked in disappointment, getting up to rummage through the options himself.

"Oh come on, you can do better than that," he coaxed, grabbing a slinky miniskirt and cropped tank top. "I want to see my sexy girl shine." He shot you a playful grin as he pressed the revealing clothes into your hands.

You laughed nervously. "Rafe, those aren't really my style…" But he pouted childishly, guiding you towards the adjoining bathroom.

"Humor me? Just a peek," he insisted. You hesitated, then relented with a shy smile. You had never worn anything so risqué before, but the delight on Rafe's face was gratifying. And it was just the two of you after all…

You changed quickly, adjusting the tiny skirt over yourself. The top was snug and showed a hint of midriff that made you self-conscious. But Rafe's eager expression as you stepped out stopped any protests before they left your lips.

"Stunning," he breathed, drinking in the sight of you. You blushed under his intense scrutiny, suddenly feeling very exposed. But you tried to push past it, giving an awkward little twirl to show off the outfit fully. Rafe's grin was downright predatory.

"Now take it off nice and slow," he said lowly, eyes raking over you. "Give me a proper show."

You balked, arms crossing instinctively over your torso. "Rafe, I…" His eyebrows shot up in challenge and you faltered. Maybe you were overthinking things. You didn't want to disappoint him again…

With trembling fingers, You reached for the hem of the snug tank top. But the voice inside screaming this was a bad idea only grew louder. You dropped your hands, shaking your head firmly as you backed towards the bathroom.

"I'm sorry Rafe, I can't do this. The clothes need to stay on." Your voice was small but resolute. You wouldn't ignore your instincts, not even to placate Rafe's desires. His scowl made your stomach twist anxiously, but you stood your ground, waiting for his response.

Taking a deep breath, Rafe fixed an understanding smile on his face. "You're right, I got carried away again. I'm sorry," he said gently. "I just can't control myself around you sometimes. You look so gorgeous in that outfit."

He approached you slowly until you allowed him to take your hands in his. "Of course the clothes should stay on until you're ready. I'm truly sorry for pushing you, princess." He brushed a tender kiss over your knuckles.

You visibly relaxed, giving him a grateful smile. "It's okay, Rafe. Thank you for understanding." You leaned up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek before disappearing back into the bathroom to change.

You emerged from the bathroom in a comfortable sundress, feeling infinitely more at ease now that you were back in your own clothes. Rafe's obvious disappointment tugged at your heartstrings for a moment, but you brushed it aside. You knew in your gut that stripping for him, even just down to your underwear, wasn't something you were ready for yet.

To your relief, Rafe seemed to have reigned himself in and was back to his usual charming self, apologizing for getting carried away again. You smiled up at him gratefully, leaning in to give him a light kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you for being so patient with me," You said earnestly. "It really means a lot. I know this is all new for me." you ducked your head a bit shyly.

Rafe tilted your chin up, smiling fondly as he gazed down at you. "Of course, princess. I'll wait as long as you need. I'm just happy to be with you," he assured you smoothly.

Your heart swelled. You knew you had been lucky to find a guy like Rafe. Wealthy Kook boys had a reputation for being entitled spoiled brats. But most people didn't get to see this sweet, caring side of Rafe like you did. He could be impulsive and hot headed at times, but he respected your boundaries when it really mattered.

"You're the best boyfriend ever," You declared, going up on tiptoe to kiss him warmly. Rafe grinned against your lips, strong arms circling your waist.

"Anything for my girl," he murmured affectionately when you broke apart. You playfully booped his nose, eliciting a laugh from him.

"Alright mister, as much as I appreciate these new clothes, I could really use some help donating some of them," you said in a practical tone. "I can't even wear this many outfits in a lifetime!"

Rafe heaved a dramatic sigh but smiled good-naturedly. "Fiiine, guess I did go a little overboard on the shopping spree," he conceded. You giggled.

"Just a bit. Come on, let's get started." You took his hand, leading him back to the piles of clothes awaiting sorting. Even if Rafe's impulsive extravagance could be frustrating at times, You were grateful to have someone so attentive and willing to lavish you with gifts and affection. You hoped in time he would come to value you for more than just your looks or virginity. For now, You were content to take things slow and simply enjoy exploring young love one day at a time.

Rafe resisted the urge to roll his eyes as he let you lead him by the hand back to the piles of designer clothes he had gifted you. Donating them? What a pointless waste. He had spent a small fortune solely with the intent of seeing you decked out in finery, not giving it away to the destitute Pogues of the Cut.

But he bit his tongue, keeping up the doting act. "Of course I'll help, babe. Anything you want," he said smoothly, playing with your fingers.

Soon, he promised himself as he pulled you in for a chaste kiss on the forehead that contradicted his lustful thoughts. Your smile made him want to gag, but he mirrored it charmingly. Let you enjoy playing house a little while longer. He was adept at getting what he wanted from any woman eventually. The thought made Rafe's cock stir impatiently, but he willed it down. Not yet. He needed to lull you into total complacency first before finally stripping away the last of your resistance.

You hummed contentedly to yourself as you neatly folded clothes into donation boxes, Rafe helping beside you. You smiled up at him after he gave you a sweet kiss on the forehead, happy you guys seemed to be back in sync after the brief tension earlier.

You held up a slinky red cocktail dress, pondering keeping it for a special occasion. But no, it wasn't really your style at all. Into the donation box it went. You frowned slightly as you pulled out several incredibly risqué lingerie items - crotchless panties, lace teddies that left little to the imagination. Definitely not your taste.

"Geez Rafe, did you raid the whole lingerie section?" you asked with a laugh. Rafe just shrugged, unbothered. You shook your head in amusement as you set them aside to give to your more adventurous friend.

Once all the clothes were sorted, you surveyed the boxes contentedly. You had kept enough everyday outfits to last a lifetime, but now many girls in the Cut would have the chance to enjoy fancy new clothes too. It made you happy to spread the wealth, so to speak.

"There, all done! The donation center is going to be thrilled." You smiled brightly at Rafe. "This was a really great idea. I know I said it already, but thank you again for being so generous. And understanding about…everything," you finished, cheeks pinking slightly.

Rafe smiled back warmly, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "Of course, babe. Anything for you," he said, dropping a kiss to the top of your head. You snuggled into his side, relieved you seemed to be back on the same page.

You hoped with time, Rafe would see you as more than just a conquest or object of physical desire. For now, you were content taking it slow, focusing on emotional intimacy over physical. You had all the time in the world for those things later on if things progressed. But for today, You were simply happy snuggling innocently with the boy who made you feel so safe, protected and cherished. Everything was perfect just as it was.

[iceunhie]

starstealer :: even stars can be swept off their feet. xavier is sure he is when he falls for you.

footnotes: small blurb, slight angst and my first standalone l&d fic! xavier experimentation fic because his character intrigues me to no end, lots of star comparisons

the universe contains approximately almost an innumerable number of stars, and out of an infinitely unquantifiable number of them, xavier wonders why you look at him like he's the brightest one.

stars fall, xavier admits, stars can fall, and xavier knows he's falling. (he's fallen.)

he knows it in the way you rest your head on his shoulder while you watch the flimsy dots of lights litter in the cosmos and his heart soars.

he knows it whenever he sees you hurt even for a fraction—how his feelings die and solidify and coalesce only at the thought of you. how fear climbs up his throat and marred memories of failure creep up his skin.

"you're not fine." he persists, handling you as though you were sand slipping through his fingers; jaw tight when he sees blood staining the white of your sleeve. the gash on your shoulder is shallow, though it spanned a quite alarming size. it makes him anxious. bile rises to his throat and he fights to keep his stomach from dropping. you laugh, brushing him off. "you don't need to take care of me, you know. isn't it tedious?" not to me, xavier keeps to himself. not when it's you. instead he says, "no. it's not. just let me help you, okay?" "fine....." you huff, resigned; and you thank him. 'always.'

knows it in how the stretch of two hundred and fourteen springs feels like a nightmare never dreamed before; with you as his reason to hold on.

knows it when he sees how the night's breeze makes your hair sway, the moon's glow a wink in the vastness that is the universe and the incomparable feeling that his universe, his wish, is right next to him.

he failed you time and time again.

now, xavier swears to never fail you again.

loving you feels like being showered the touch of a thousand flickering embers burning up to become a fire, and xavier doubts he can put it out.

he won't.

you like stars. xavier thinks that should you ask him to pluck one out for you, he'd hate it if only because he wishes to keep you in his arms for a little longer.

(he'd do it anyway.)

one look, one touch; leaving him to be stardust begging to be held in your hands. a star swept off its feet.

leaving him to find sleep a secondary choice in nature so as to burn your image into the scope of his memory. making him feel that happiness he only feels when he's with you.

loving you is painful, but loving you is worth it. he's fallen, and falls even more everyday.

"xavier?" did you know that every inch of his will has promptly devoted itself to you? would bend to your words without a thought and hear your every wish?

"hm?" he exerts, feeling the weight of your eyes on him.

you lean against him and the stars dim. the world falls to a hush. it's only you, it was always you—

xavier doesn't think to breathe; he listens to the sound of your heart thumping steadily in your chest, the rhythmic beat a reason to live again, to love you again. no words are needed more, not when your presence permeates across the void words cannot hope to fill.

"can i lean on you just a bit longer?"

(yes. always.)

"....as much as you want." his eyes soften, and his words are tender. "as long as you need."

he sees you smile, watches as your cheeks become full by the way your joy lights up your face, and xavier's world does too.

you're everything, xavier thinks. to the point he feels as though all the stars up in the sky shine if only to witness you.

a/n pls don't judge me for this half-baked fic and the possible in corrections of xavier lore; did i mention this was supposed to be a rafayel fic but ya girl decided to tap out

[९] 2024 © iceunhie do not copy or repost my work. do not use my work for your own use

[sin-sidejob]

Hello,how are you doing?

May I request some pillow Princess reagan x reader smut?

National Girlfriend Day

Pairing: Reagan Ridley x GN / AFAB Reader

Warnings: NSFW, MINORS DNI - smut, doggystyle fucking, reader wears a strap, mentions of assplay, spitting, fingering, cumplay, reader calls Reagan "Good Girl, Pretty, Princess, Baby" and literally talks to her pussy. Gender unspecified for reader with no body description beyond wearing a strap-on.

Contents: smut, aftercare, use of sex toys/strap-on, Pillow Princess Reagan + my requests were closed when this was submitted but today's National Girlfriend Day, and who better to celebrate it than baby girl Reagan Ridley? length: 3k dividers by: @/saradika-graphics & @/cafekitsune

She's got no clue about today.

It was easy to plan around Reagan’s schedule and know she’d have no idea about what day it was or what you had even planned by the time her worn sneakers treaded over the unwelcome mat and into your shared home. 

And just like you expected, she’s too busy marveling over how clean everything is and how you actually managed to get the stains out of her diploma that she doesn't catch you lingering in the kitchen doorway and how your gaze is heady enough to know any meal tonight won’t be comprised of food. 

You’d already heard of her bad day at work, dealing with the tedious items on her itinerary as always and managed to order her dinner delivery to work so she wouldn’t starve and overwork herself until she came home later. It allowed you more time to make sure you could take care of her as she deserved, and it makes it all worth it the second her eyes land on you and she give you that crooked smile you’ve fallen in love with. 

“You cleaned all this?” 

Her arms coil around your waist as she looks over your face, the tiredness still there around her eyes but it eases as you brush a few stray hairs off her forehead and back to the side of her bangs, blending into her ponytail. She’s beautiful, stained labcoat and all, and you’re thrumming with excitement already to show your adoration through forcibly erasing her bad day with a good ending. 

“Mhm, wanted to give you something nice to come home to. Kept me busy from missin’ you too much,” you murmur, leaning to kiss at her jaw and cheek, lowering to her neck as you feel her breath hitch and the nervous laugh let out as she splays a palm over your back. 

“My you’re eager.” 

She marvels as you pull back and grin, eyes already half-lidded as you smooth your hands over her waist and beneath the hem to glide over the smooth skin of her stomach. “Just wanna’ show you how much I love ya’, been needin’ you all damn day princess.” 

Shuddering, she knows she’s in for it with that term of endearment passing your lips, the dynamic already set now as she processes that she’s about to be fucked out real quick and real soon. You take her hand in yours as you smooth the other up her spine and she knocks her nose into yours before kissing you messily. 

“Nngh, take me to bed already,” Reagan murmurs, having pulled back enough to catch your kiss-bitten lips and the utter lust in your eyes. You oblige, leading her upstairs to the bedroom before you work on undressing her, letting her undo her shoes as you shred yourself of your top and pants, clad in a pair of undershorts and a harness she recognizes immediately. 

Swallowing, she eyes you up and down before you crowd her against the bed and mouth at her neck while you help her shimmy out of her pants, pulling off her socks with reverence as you kiss her ankle while she quickly strips off her shirt and bra, panting already. 

You tilt your head in the direction towards the further end of the bed, at the headboard where the pillows lie, and Reagan immediately backs herself against them as you lay on your belly between her parted thighs and make yourself comfortable as you kiss between the ticklish skin of her legs. 

She jerks with a particular nip at the inner thigh and you catch her leg in your grip, easing it over your shoulder as you sidle up and kiss at her panties, the center already soaked through visibly with her wetness and you whistle as you pull them to the side, exposing her glistening cunt and how she clenches around nothing the second you blow a little air over her hooded clit, relishing in watching her squirm. 

“Don’t be a tease. Please go ‘head and move.” 

Tutting, you send her a look while you lift her other thigh over your shoulder, hands dragging her waist closer to your face as you inhale her cunt, grossly sniffing at her clit in a manner that has Reagan’s hands covering her face before you kiss tenderly at her labia, tracing your tongue down to her weeping slit and delving in, wriggling the muscle of your tongue against her walls as she begins to whine her hips against your face. Her hand clutches at your scalp as you let her use your mouth to get off, humming as you curl your tongue upwards and inhale through your nose, surrounded by the musk of her and sweat and the bergamot of her perfume. 

You’d happily choke on it, and on her, but its a day about pleasing her so your death can wait. 

Breaching up, slick strands cling to your chin as you press your cheek to her thigh, your hand quelling her brief protests as you ease your two middle digits into the molten heat of her cunt and curl upwards, hitting that g-spot with precision that sends her arching, clutching at your head still and reaching back to white-knuckle the headrest. 

“Feelin’ good princess? Want more?” 

She’s nodding, eyes clamped shut as she wriggles her hips forward in stuttered bucking motions to fuck herself against your hand, wanting and needing more to get that orgasm curling in her abdomen to release. “Need your mouth, want your teeth please.” 

Obliging, you nose at her clit and lick beneath the hood to openly suckle at the bundle of nerves, laughing against her as she lifts her hips off the bed against your mouth once you begin curling your fingers and sucking softly between grazes of your teeth to the sensitive skin around her clit. 

Reagan’s desperate now, the sweat creating a sheen on her skin, and she catches your eyes when she looks down only to have hers roll back once you scissor your fingers and lap at her clit with a sloppy tongue, sending her creaming. 

Your mouth lowers to where your fingers retract, lapping up all the wetness she leaks and cleaning her up idly until shes patting at your shoulders, whining from overstimulation and dragging you back up into her arms so she can kiss you, moaning at the taste of herself on your tongue. 

Her hands clutch at your head and neck, wetly making out until she can’t breathe and you take the opportunity to rise, leaving her only for a moment to grab the toy she and you both have been waiting for, slipping the dildo through the harness before crawling back onto bed as Reagan makes you pause. 

“Can we try what you showed me last week?” 

Thinking back, you nearly moan at the thought and nod, already guiding Reagan onto her belly with her ass arched high as you settle behind her, fingers slicking back between her drenched folds to fuck her cunt, making her whine as she lowers her face to the bed below. 

“That’s it baby, keep that arch f’me. Gonna’ make you feel real good.”

You make good on that shortly, getting her close to cumming again as you stretch her out enough to take your strap well if not with ease. You might like to see her cry, but you don’t want to see her in pain. By the time you pull your fingers out from her tight pussy, she's whining and already wiggling her ass back for something to replace the stimulation, missing the feeling. 

Reagan’s nearly dumb and drooling already, uncaring of how she looks now by the time you press down at the bottom of her spine, forcing her back into a sinful arch as her cheek smudges against the silky pillows to watch as you brace her thighs outside yours and fondle her ass cheeks. 

You let out an audible tch in amusement at reading her tattoo again, the scrawl of the text reading Mommy Likey Drinky making you audibly chuckle, thinking about how she really does like to drink from you when she's especially frustrated and in need of a good meal. She eats pussy like a menace, you’re a bit kinder but you’ll give the credit where it's due. 

Leaning forward, you crowd her against the bed and press her further into the sheets, your strap wedging between her thighs as you feel her rock her ass back, lifting her head to look back at you. “Gonna’ be a good girl f’me? Let me fuck you stupid and drive all those thoughts out as you lay back and let me do the work?”

Reagan is nodding before you even finish but finds herself groaning as she rocks her hips back and finds friction at the hood of her clit, just enough to send her trembling and begging with need as your hands smooth over her ribs and over the globe of her ass. 

“Please, need it bad — I’ll be so good, gonna’ be so good for youohhh fuuck.” 

You’ve gripped the base in hand and slid the silicone between her lips, watching the pooling sheen of her slick soak the strap to the point that when you pull back, webs of dewy precum cling between her pussy and your strap. 

Christ you should’ve celebrated this sooner. 

Reagan’s hands fist into the sheets and pillows as she firthers the arch in her back, feeling it burn almost in those divots near her backside until you plant your hands over her lower waist, thumbs pressing deliciously into the knots and nerves of her lower spine as she whines. 

“So worked up baby and ‘m not even in’ya yet,” you’re half mocking and half marveling at how her thighs stand taut as you pry her asscheeks apart, hearing her hiss as the cold air hits her puckered hole. Just to be a bit mean, you gather spit in your mouth, spitting it with an audible hawk-tuah! As you aim it on her asshole, grinning as she writhes against you while it drips down, soaking the back of her while you bring your strap back into your hand. 

“Quit fussin’, I’m just hitting it from the back princess, we’re not trying that today. 

“Fuckin’ better,” she growls before sending back a half-hearted glower at you over her shoulder that has you cooing and pressing your front to her back, feeling the sheen of sweat over her skin already as you nose at her neck, pressing a few adoring kisses there as you linger. 

“S’okay baby, we can save that for our anniversary.”

Before she can mouth off another smart comment, you’re parting her labia back with a hand sprawling across her cunny and back half of her asscheek while the other wraps around the silicone base, maneuvering the cockhead to smear wetly against her clit. 

You chuckle as you circle the attention there, watching as her back muscles tremor before you pat her tramp stamp affectionately as you hold onto her ass to keep her planted as you ease the mushroom-tip of the pretty pink dildo into her cunt, letting out lines of sugary-sweet praise as you ease in inch by inch. 

“Hah-fuck, r-right there.”

You grind your hips in a sideways infinity, shifting left and right to grind against her g-spot slow and steady to send her warbling your name into the pillow now tugged to her face, hiding majority of her expression besides the blissed out curl of her lip and the furrow of her dark brows. 

Reaching back, you snag your phone from the back pocket of your jeans and snap a picture of her as she is now, already blissed out and arching as if trying to get closer to a god while stretched-halfway around your cock. You toss it aside the second she stutters her hips backwards and reaches a hand back, immediately receiving your hand in hers as she clutches it, squeezing the palm while she writhes and feels her bared tits brush and drag against the sheets to a point that the taut points of her nipples only add to the pleasure coursing, thrumming through her veins like a drug. 

She barely has to do a thing but let you hold onto her as she holds your hand, your grip strong at her hip bone while you ease the strap in further, noting the heady sigh of relief when you knock at her cervix Reagan lets out as she squeezes your hand. You slow, smoothing your hand over her back, tracing the lettering on her tattoo as you wait for her to let you know when to move. 

For now, you rub over her sweat-damp skin and check in with her, getting a thumbs up and a verbal green light after a minute passes, allowing you to pull back your hips and ease the strap out, hearing her cunt squelch as if missing you already, and take you back in as you shift forward. 

You snake your arm around her belly as you crowd her a bit, hand now at her lower pelvis and going past the curls of her bush to her clit and thumbing it slowly, matching the pulses of her nerves as you gradually increase the pace in your thrusts, her thighs now propped up over your own that keep her steady. 

“How’s this feelin’? Good?” 

She can barely tilt her head to meet your gaze but manages to catch your eye as she moans low once you match the pace of your hand, pressing upward against the bulge of your strap now plunging her guts, her lips parted wetly. “M’fuckin’ great — k-keep going.”

Grinning, you lean over and nip at her shoulder and then down her back while you pick up the pace, pressing her belly upward to hold her upright as you bring her hips back into yours as you thrust them forward, the sheen of her arousal now forming a creamy ring at the base of your strap and soaking the harness fabric close to the fake balls that smack at her puffy lips, nearly meeting your fingers as you roll and press at her clit, easing between faster and slower paces. 

Her pussy is lewdly squelching, the drench of her cunt sounding loud every time you shift back and forth and you can’t help but chuckle darkly as you rock Reagan’s waist back towards your pistoning hips with abandon. “Hear that baby? Even your pretty pussy’s cryin’ for me. Needed me real bad, huh?” 

Nodding, she feels like she’s about to cry but also bust apart at the seams any second with the pressure careening through her lower abdomen. Its a heavy pressure than sends her gushing around you and anticipating an orgasm that’ll make her near blackout, and her legs are close to giving out as they recline against yours at the thought of how close she is to release. “Think m’gonna c-cum.” 

“Y’close baby? I gotcha’ just ease into it f’me.” 

Gritting your teeth, you grind your hips in a circling motion every time you bottom out after lifting your hips back, making Reagan tremble beneath you as you wrench out an orgasm that you drag out, kissing at her skin as you ease off her clit and fuck her on your strap until she deflates fully onto the bed with a sated mewl, allowing you to pull out and see the small gush of wetness pool forth onto the sheets 

Undoing the clasps on the strap, you toss it to the side as you crawl up the bed to lie beside Reagan who sleepily opens her eyes to stare at you once you brush a few strands of her hair back, lifting her cheek to press into your palm as she sighs happily. 

“How’s that head?”

“No complaints yet,” 

She giggles softly, more of a snicker but she’s too out of breath, and you raise a brow. “Head’s empty. Water and a washcloth?” 

A brief kiss to her dewy forehead is left before you go and slip into the ensuite bathroom, wetting a washcloth with warm water after filling a glass kept beneath the sink with cold water, returning quickly to find she’s nearly asleep with her ass still somewhat perched in the air. 

You glance at your phone but decide against another photo as you near, easing reagan onto her back so she can sit up and sip at the water while you part her thighs and dutifully clean up, being extra tender and leaving kisses behind as you wipe between her folds and pull back her hooded clit. 

“There, all done, you just gotta’ hit the bathroom then you can sleep.” 

You shrug on an oversized muscle tee and some baggy sleep shorts before easing Reagan into a soft bralette and a pair of boxers before taking the strap up to the bathroom to clean it in the morning. “You’ll have to carry me there.”

Reagan can’t help but laugh at your grin from the offer, always enjoying taking care of her, especially as you smile against her mouth once you crawl back onto the bedsheets you both can’t be bothered to change until the morning. 

“C’mon pretty girl, bathroom then bed.” 

Reagan fails to hide the smile that forms as she raises her arms for you to help carry her to the bathroom, her legs aching and unsteady from being bent over like that with her arched spine a workout all of its own. 

She settles over the toilet as you move to brush your teeth as she goes, long having passed the personal bubbles and sharing intimacy in all matters. Cleaning up, Reagan is bumping her hip into yours by the time she’s washing her hands when you spit out the minty foam of your toothpaste. 

It isn’t until minutes later, when she’s curled up in your arms as your legs entangle, that she kisses at your shoulder while you card your hand through the hair that splays over her shoulder. 

“Feelin’ loved?” 

She’s blinking in the dark, close enough to see you and how you’re genuinely asking, and she hums, her hand tapping at your waist as she nudges closer. “Very.” 

“Good,” You finally let rest seep into your bones with that, lifting the dirtied sheets over yourself and the blanket beneath over your entwined bodies before you let your breaths even, 

"Happy Girlfriend’s Day, baby.” 

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[obvithe-bestsoph]

school trip.

genre: fluff masterlist requests

summary: school trip to greece with your best friend.

warnings: none.

For weeks, you and Lamine have been looking forward to the school trip you guys have coming up, to Greece. And now, it's finally here. Lamine's in the offseason, so he's finally able to come. You guys have been best friends since first meeting at school when you were six, but with his career absolutely taking off recently, you don't get to see him as much, and he doesn't come into school anymore either. He won the Euros with Spain just a few months ago, so it's almost like a little celebratory trip for you guys while you're there.

Finally, the day of the trip comes. Technically, it's a "history trip" but everyone knows there'll be little to know "history" learning while we're there. The teachers and chaperones just want a holiday, and so do the kids.

But before you can actually do any of that, you have to get to Greece. With it being a school trip, unfortunately, you aren't flying, but the school has hired buses to get there instead, as do most schools when going on trips. First up, is a 3-hour train ride to Montpellier, in France. Then it's 19 hours on the bus to Tirane, in Albania. An hour from Tirane to Elbasan, still in Albania. And then finally, 7 and a half hours from Tirane to Athens. All up, it's about 3 days of travel, sleeping the night in Tirane, and the rest on the bus, stopping for meals.

It's gonna be a long journey, that's for sure, but it'll be worth it, because, at the end of the tedious bus transfers and uncomfortable seats, it will be 3 weeks of, more or less, unsupervised with your best friend in Greece.

Currently, you and Lamine are about 30 minutes into the train ride to Montpellier, and you and Lamine are sitting and watching out the window, sharing AirPods and listening to your shared playlist that you've had since about 2017.

Lamine: …

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