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fruitjoos · 1 month ago

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serving up suds!

parings: patrick zweig x fem!reader / art donaldson x tashi duncan

word count: 3.9k

summary: you and the rest of the girls on the tennis team need to figure out a way to earn money for new uniforms. your boyfriend suggests the best idea.

contains: SMUT 18+ with lots of cute boyfriend patrick plot, fluff, only contains art and tashi as side characters (sorry), suggestive language between art and tashi, oral (m receiving), inaccurate numbers probs, if you think anything else should be added, please let me know!

note: wrote this simply because i love and miss pookie patrick zweig so enjoy… i planned to post i choose you but wanted to post this instead! also, not edited – will be doing so shortly.

You stood in front of Coach Williams, arms crossed and brows furrowed, your frustration barely masked. “We don’t even have proper uniforms,” you said, voice tight. “They just told us to wear red tank tops and the shortest white shorts we could find. It’s ridiculous. No one takes us seriously.”

It had been a minor irritation at first, something you could almost shrug off as a small injustice. But when you found out that the boys' team, including your boyfriend Patrick, had crisp, matching uniforms—with collars and the school logo stitched on the chest—your irritation curdled into anger. They looked like a team. They looked respectable. And you? You and the other five girls on the team looked like a mismatched afterthought.

A few of you had approached Coach Williams, hoping she’d understand, hoping she’d do something. You told her how embarrassing it was to stand on the court, mismatched and disheveled, while the boys walked by in their pristine gear. She’d just sighed and said the school didn’t have the funds. “Those boys raised the money themselves,” she added, almost proud. “If you girls want uniforms that badly, you’ll have to do the same.”

You groaned. Right, like it was that simple. You had done the math in your head—the cost would be at least a thousand dollars to get anything decent, something that would make you all look polished and cohesive. You wanted sharp collars, the school name embroidered in neat white stitching over your hearts, maybe even matching skirts. But there were only six of you, and $200 each was a lot to ask from college girls already juggling tuition, textbooks, meals, and a list of other expenses that never seemed to end.

The thought gnawed at you for days, and finally, you did something you never would’ve considered before. You went to Patrick. The two of you were sprawled out on the campus quad, the grass prickling your skin, the sun warm on your back. Patrick was fiddling with a Rubik's Cube he’d picked up from god knows where, twisting it clumsily, his focus entirely absorbed. You were trying to study, your math textbook open in front of you, but the thought of those damn uniforms kept distracting you. You sighed, louder than usual, trying to get his attention. He didn’t look up.

Another sigh, this one practically a groan. Patrick smirked, eyes still fixed on the colored squares in his hands. “Something on your mind?” he asked, voice teasing, as if he was enjoying your distress.

“Actually, yeah,” you said, sitting up and crossing your legs. “The girls’ tennis team needs uniforms.” He finally glanced up, confusion flickering in his eyes. “And I was wondering…” you trailed off, giving him a mischievous grin before reaching out to tickle his side. He jerked away, laughing, and caught your wrist. “...if you could, you know, maybe donate a little to help out.”

“You’re cute,” he said, kissing your cheek. “But I’m broke. Spent my allowance for the month already.”

Your head slumped against his chest, and you whined, letting the sound drag out, like a child who didn’t want to go to bed. “C’mon, Patrick. We need this.”

He chuckled, but you could sense his patience thinning. “Why don’t you do a fundraiser or something?” he suggested. “I don’t know, a bake sale?”

It was a simple idea, but it sparked something. You sat up straight, eyes bright with sudden inspiration. “A car wash!” you said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “We could do a car wash! Who wouldn’t want to donate to a group of girls in bikinis?”

Patrick’s smile faded. “Wait, I meant like selling cookies or something, not—”

But you were already on your feet, packing your things, a plan forming in your mind. Oh you’ll be selling cookies all right. “Thanks, babe! I’ll call you later,” you said, barely looking back as you headed off to find the other girls.

Patrick’s voice trailed after you, a mix of amusement and resignation. “Great. This is going to end well, I’m sure.” But you didn’t care. For the first time in days, you felt a thrill of hope. If it took a little shamelessness to raise the money, so be it. At least the girls’ team would finally have the chance to be seen.

You stood outside Art Donaldson’s dorm room, tapping your foot impatiently, half-wishing you didn’t have to do this. You were almost certain Tashi was hooking up with him. Everyone on the courts could sense the weird tension between them, the way they eyed each other during practice. It wasn’t admiration for his technique, that was for sure. Art was talented, sure, but he played like a baby deer—deft, but awkwardly loose, stumbling into his own brilliance.

Your knuckles rapped softly against the door, and when it finally creaked open, you caught sight of Art’s glassy eyes and his half-buttoned shirt. You had to stifle a laugh. He looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and not because he was taking a nap. “Uh, is Tashi around?” you asked, already guessing the answer. Art glanced over his shoulder, almost as if he was checking to see if she was still there.

“Yeah, but she’s busy,” he said, with a casual shrug that didn’t quite hide his irritation.

“I’m sure,” you replied, tilting your head with a knowing grin. You leaned past him, raising your voice. “Tashi, come out here! I’ve got an idea!” Art winced, his expression morphing into a tight-lipped smile, the kind you give when someone’s overstaying their welcome. “She’ll be out in a minute,” he muttered, stepping back to let you linger in the doorway.

You could hear the faint sounds of shuffling before Tashi appeared, her hair tousled and her expression caught somewhere between glee and annoyance. “What are you doing here?” she asked, eyes narrowing.

“Patrick gave me the best idea,” you said, ignoring the way she rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed. She didn’t even try to hide her skepticism—those words didn’t belong in the same sentence, and she knew it.

“No, really,” you insisted, giving her a playful shove. “We should do a fundraiser!”

Tashi’s face softened slightly, but her arms remained crossed, a single brow arching. “A fundraiser?”

“Yes! Think about it—tight bikinis, soapy cars, a bunch of frat boys with too much cash to spare. We’d make bank!” You bounced on your toes, grinning—your excitement spilling out uncontrollably.

She scoffed, but you caught the flicker of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Maybe she was amused, or maybe it was just the sheer absurdity of the situation. “I’m not selling my body to a bunch of frat boys,” she said, shaking her head firmly.

“You’re literally in there with Art Donaldson,” you shot back, your shoulders slumping with exasperation.

Tashi’s eyes narrowed, and she folded her arms, leaning against the doorframe. “So, what’s that supposed to mean?”

You let out an awkward laugh, waving your hands. “Oh, nothing. Just making an observation.” You could see her jaw tense, but you pressed on, undeterred. “Anyway, I’m telling the other girls. We’re doing this, with or without you.” You winked, trying to keep things light, but Tashi’s expression was unreadable as she watched you turn and leave.

A week later, you found yourself in your dorm room, sorting through an array of colorful bikini tops. The whole plan felt like a gamble, but you were determined to make it work. You wanted it to be fun, at least, if you were going to be out there scrubbing cars for spare change. Patrick was sprawled on the edge of your bed, watching with a bemused expression. “You’re seriously going through with this?” he asked, one eyebrow raised.

“You suggested it!” you argued, as you adjusted the lettering on a handmade sign with your glitter gel pens.

“I suggested you bake cookies and sell them on campus,” he corrected, waving his hand as if to swat away the absurdity of your plan. “This is not what I meant.”

“We’re just washing cars,” you said, shaking your head as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And besides, it’s for a good cause.” You added a few more swirls and hearts to the sign, mockingly repeating his earlier words in a high-pitched voice before tossing a pink towel at him.

Patrick caught the towel and laughed, shaking his head. “You’re something else.”

Grabbing your keys and the finished signs, you turned to him, flashing a grin. “Walk me over there,” you said, already halfway out the door.

He groaned, dragging himself to his feet. “I better get a free car wash out of this,” he muttered, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips. The two of you headed down the hall, and as you passed by, you could almost imagine the scene—the sun beating down, water glistening, and a line of cars full of guys willing to fork over their cash just to see a group of girls make a splash. Maybe it was shameless, but you were desperate, and desperate times called for bold, glittery, bikini-clad measures.

The sun was barely up, but the day was already heating up as you and a few of the girls set up the buckets of sudsy water, sponges bobbing in the foam, and wrangled with the nearest hose. Patrick stood nearby, scanning the growing crowd like a bouncer at a club, his eyes narrowing at any guy who dared stare a little too long when you bent over to dip your sponge. He was protective like that, and maybe just a bit possessive, but you couldn’t deny it felt good having someone in your corner, even if he looked ready to body check anyone who ogled you.

You were just about to yell something smart at him when Tashi strolled up, the sound of her flip-flops soft on the concrete, and every head turned as she made her entrance. She was all long, tanned legs, glistening in the sunlight, a tiny bikini peeking out from under her daisy dukes, and she moved with a sort of effortless grace that made you want to both envy and applaud her. You let out a sharp whistle, catcalling her as she approached, unable to resist. She rolled her eyes.

“Careful, those eyes are gonna get stuck back there one day,” you said with a small smile on your lips, and you could tell she was enjoying the attention.

“You look so hot!” you squealed, bouncing on your toes. Tashi flicked her hair over her shoulder, pretending to be exasperated, but she knew she was killing it, and so did everyone else.

Hours passed, the sun climbing higher, scorching the asphalt, and the music thumped from the speakers you’d set up, loud enough to echo down the block. You and the girls took turns yelling at passersby, daring them to get their cars washed, and you couldn’t believe how fast the line grew. It felt like every guy within a five mile radius had suddenly remembered he needed a wash, and they queued up, engines idling, windows down, some leaning out just to get a better look.

Your bodies were practically spilling out of your clothes, skin glistening, slick with soap and sweat. You pressed up against car windows, sponges swirling over the glass, your laughter and chatter floating above the music. “Thank you!” you sang out, flashing bright smiles as you took crumpled bills from hands reaching out of car windows, a parade of faces you didn’t even recognize. You skipped over to where Patrick was standing, collecting the money, and tossed the latest stack of bills into the box he was holding.

The pink, glittery box which you wrote ‘Stick something in me!’ on. It was heavier than you’d expected; you were actually making bank.

Before you could turn back to the cars, Patrick caught your wrist and pulled you close, his hand warm and firm. He cupped your cheeks between his fingers, smushing them slightly, and before you could even register the movement, he kissed you hard, right there in front of everyone. It wasn’t gentle, wasn’t soft. It was a claim, a brand, like he was marking his territory for all to see.

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice low, but loud enough for everyone nearby to hear, a hint of a challenge in his eyes. He wanted to remind you.

You blushed, caught off guard, but then a grin spread across your face. “I’m yours,” you repeated, just as firmly, before pulling him down and planting another kiss on his lips, making sure the message was clear. As you pulled back, you saw a few guys in line avert their eyes, and you laughed to yourself, a mix of pride and relief swelling in your chest. You had Patrick, you had the girls, and if things kept going this well, you’d have those uniforms too.

"Six-fifty… seven-fifty," Patrick counted, his voice low and steady, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in soft pinks and purples. You were sprawled out across the lawn, grass tickling your bare arms, and you watched him with a warm, tired smile, the kind of smile you give when everything feels just right for once. It had been a long, sweaty day, but now the breeze was gentle, like a cool kiss against your skin, and you felt almost weightless. Your body thrumming with a sense of accomplishment.

“Okay, that’s great!” you said, grabbing his arm, a burst of giddy excitement surging through you. Around you, the girls broke into their own cheers, hugging and high-fiving each other, still buzzing from the success of the day.

“And $100 from me,” Patrick said, pulling out a crisp bill from his wallet and tossing it into the box with a casual flick. The girls swarmed him, shaking his shoulders and showering him with thank-yous, calling him sweet, generous, the best. Even Tashi, who’d been leaning coolly against Art, broke into a grin, and she nudged him with her elbow. Art, who’d been half-pretending not to care, rolled his eyes but couldn’t resist. With a reluctant sigh, he parted with another $100, mumbling under his breath as he handed it over.

“Fine,” he said, almost as if the word hurt, but he was grinning a little, too, when the girls shrieked and patted his back. Rich people, you thought, shaking your head with a smirk. They always made it seem like giving was a struggle when it barely scratched the surface of their wallets.

You took a breath, pushing yourself up to your feet and looking at the small circle of girls around you, their faces flushed and glowing under the dimming sky. "I just want to say… thank you," you started, your voice slightly hoarse from yelling all day but still earnest. "I know this wasn’t exactly easy, but we did it. And I’m really proud." You reached into your own wallet, pulling out a $50 bill, twirling it between your fingers, and held it up like a trophy. “Here’s to us. And new uniforms!”

The girls erupted, their cheers echoing across the lawn, loud and jubilant, as if they’d just won a championship. For a moment, it felt like they had. The line between a football team scoring a last minute touchdown and a group of college girls hustling for their dignity had blurred, and you all basked in the glow of it, even as the day faded into night.

Later, you stumbled back to your dorm, too exhausted to think but too exhilarated to sleep. You flopped down on your bed, sinking into the mattress, letting out a long, satisfied sigh. You barely had time to close your eyes before Patrick followed, landing on top of you with a playful thud, his chin digging uncomfortably into your stomach.

“Ow,” you laughed, swatting at his head as he tried to adjust, mumbling an absent apology. He shifted, then propped himself up, and you cradled his face in your hands, tilting it up so you could look into his eyes. They were the soft blue of summer berries, glinting with mischief and tenderness, and you felt a sudden rush of affection that made your chest ache a little.

“I have the best boyfriend in the world,” you said, the words coming out soft, almost like a secret you were finally ready to admit. Patrick’s cheeks flushed a faint pink, something he did so rarely it was almost a treat to see. He gave you a shy, crooked smile, and you could tell he was savoring the moment, letting it hang in the air between you.

Then he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours, slow and careful, his mouth tasting faintly of your pomegranate chapstick. It was gentle at first, then firmer, like he was memorizing every bit of sweetness. When he pulled back, his eyes were still half-lidded, and his lips curved into a teasing smile.

“So, what’s the reward for being the best boyfriend?” he murmured, his gaze flicking over your face, taking in every detail as if he hadn’t already committed them to memory. His eyelashes fluttered, casting a silhouette across his cheeks, and you felt a shiver of warmth spread through you.

His reward for enduring the humid, sticky air all day, the sun beating down relentlessly on his already sunkissed skin, was right here, pressed against him. He had been patient, sitting there with the box of crumpled bills, sweat glistening on his forehead, eyes darting protectively every time someone lingered a little too long on you. He deserved something for putting up with the heat, the endless chatter, and the occasional, awkward guy who looked like he wanted to challenge him just for standing there. And this was it. You, warm and pliant under his hands, your fingers tangled in his hair, lips brushing his, teasing, like you were savoring every second as much as he was.

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head in mock contemplation. “Hmm, I guess I’ll have to think of something…” you said, running your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer until your noses touched. “Maybe a little more of this,” you whispered, your lips brushing his as you spoke, letting the promise linger in the space.

You rolled over, his back sinking into the worn mattress. You let your lips graze his jaw, then drifted down to his neck. He shifted under your touch, laughter mingling with a nervous squirm as your breath tickled his skin. “You’re so good to me,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his earlobe. “So supportive,” another kiss at his temple. “And so, so handsome.” A faint smile broke across his face, eyes closed, lost in the moment.

You let your fingers glide over the cool, metallic buttons of his shorts, tracing each engraved design as if it were spelling out something only you knew. You helped him pull them off, giggling as you threw them across the room. Your hand dipped into the dark mouth of his boxers, rummaging past his trimmed bush of curls, until your fingers closed around the smooth, familiar shape.

His hard cock slid out, catching the light above, precum gleaming, almost tauntingly. You held it up to your mouth, breathing in the faint trace of scent that lingered, delicate but intoxicating.

You stared at it for a moment, feeling a slow, subtle warmth unfurl in your chest. It was a tiny, almost imperceptible smile that tugged at your lips, like the beginning of a secret, and you could feel the tension building under your skin, pooling low in your stomach. Something about holding it in your hand made you feel powerful, like you were in control.

The head was your favorite color—deep, cherry red and glistening like a polished gem when you pulled back his foreskin slowly. You slid it between your lips, supple and sweet. Your tongue circled over his tip, feeling the tiny slit. His sap dissolving against your taste buds. You closed your eyes, savoring the taste.

His arousal melted on your tongue, sweet and syrupy. A thin string of saliva stretched between your lips and the tip when you pulled it away, snapping when you moved it too far. It was deliciously wrong, like sneaking a piece of forbidden fruit.

"You’re so sweet," you murmured, almost to yourself, but loud enough for Patrick to hear. He glanced up, his expression lustful and high.

“Wanna taste it?” you asked, slightly lolling your head to the side. The way you said it was innocent, almost playful, but there was a glint in your eyes, a subtle edge to the offer. You leaned up to him, grazing your tongue over his lips. He moaned at the contact. You grabbed his jaw, letting the glob mixed of your saliva and himself fall onto the heart of his tongue. He groaned, letting it slide down his throat. “I love you.” he whimpered, sloppily inhaling your lips.

You furrowed your brows, mocking the desperate look in his eyes. You watched him, a slow smile curling on your lips. You hadn’t realized how much you’d loved being in control. It reminded you that, for once, you weren’t following the rules, and that felt more delicious than anything you’d tasted in a long, long time.

You pumped your hand up and down his shaft, practically begging him to release all over your pretty face. “You wanna come for me?” you asked with a sweet, honey tone. “I’m so close,” he panted, fingers tangling between your strands of hair. “Fu– please,” he cried, mouth gaping open while hips desperately bucked toward you.

Taking him in your mouth again, you slapped his stiff cock against your tongue, the familiar sensation flooding your mouth as saliva pooled in your cheeks. His fluids mixed with spit, oozing down your lips and pooling on your chin. It felt disgusting, the wetness creeping along your skin, but deep down, every drop was a small victory for making him feel good.

With each stroke, you watched the fizzy mixture drip, the mess clinging to your hand and wrist as you pumped vigorously. You squeezed him in your palms, watching him sputter. Come painting across your face. You bit your lip, trying to steady your hand, hoping you milked him empty. His slit deflating a little more with every squeeze. You could see the droplets peeking through, mocking you.

He threw his head back, catching his breath. “Feel good?” you teased, sucking your fingers. You slid your body up his, his bare cock still hard, brushing against the skin of your thigh. His body jolting at the touch.

"Thank you for your help today, baby," you murmured, letting your lips brush gently against the tip of his nose, a soft, affectionate kiss.

“Anytime,” he said, a playful glint in his eyes. “And don’t hesitate to bring me any other problems you’ve got,” he added, only half-joking, clearly savoring the reward you’d just given him. “I’m always glad to help.”

You laughed, the sound light and warm, as you slipped off the bed. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you teased, padding across the room toward the bathroom to shower. You glanced back at him once more, a smile still tugging at the corners of your mouth, “You coming?” you ask, disappearing into the bathroom.

He slid off the bed in a hurried, awkward motion, the springs letting out a sharp, staccato creak that echoed through the room. His feet barely touched the floor before he was shuffling off, making his way into the bathroom behind you.

#challengers #patrick zweig #patrick zweig x reader #challengers fanfic #patrick zweig smut #tashi duncan #tashi duncan x reader

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lorelaiblair · 5 months ago

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when Wednesday has had a very deep sleep it takes her a moment to remember how to speak english once she wakes up.

and by ‘a moment’ i mean it can take anywhere between ten minutes and and hour + a quad over ice

the first time Enid witnesses it is the first night she falls asleep in Wednesdays bed, she wakes up sprawled over the other girl, and Wednesday who had spent the night feeling something similar to being buried alive, wakes up speaking spanish.

her dark eyes are filled with sleep, her hair is tangled, there are sleep lines over her arms and chest, her voice is soft and sounding like honey

she’s out of it for a good 20 minutes, just holding Enid and mumbling to her in a language she doesn’t understand, Enid though is in heaven

Wednesday is pretty sucky at doing things gently, she never does something half-way, so when she holds Enid, she does it like she could never let go. she holds tight, and Enid, the girl with super strength and the biggest heart, will always love the way Wednesday loves.

Enid wasn’t much of a morning person, always one to sleep in until the last minute, but now she finds herself savoring her mornings being held by the love of her life.

Wednesday whispers sweet nothings in spanish while colorful claws untangle knots in dark hair.

Yeah. Mornings are quite wonderful now.

(Enid has also deemed this period of time “Wednesday’s factory reset mode”)

#wednesday 2022 #wednesday addams #enid sinclair #wednesday #wenclair #wednesday x enid #wednesday is soft for enid #enid x wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednesday and enid #netflix wednesday #wednesday headcanons #wednesday series #eniday #enid #enid and wednesday #the addams family

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captainmalewriter · 6 days ago

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Bad Sun

It was supposed to be just another day in November when the sun became bad. It happened in a flash, ending as quickly as it started. Look away and you'll miss it. While the sun reverted back to its normal state within a minute, the strange effects of the light the bad sun radiated were already felt by the people who witnessed it.

The news reported there would be a solar eclipse at around 1 o'clock in the afternoon the day it happened. Chris and Marty, two old friends from college, just so happened to be chilling outside at that time.

"Hey isn't there supposed to be an eclipse right now?" Chris asked.

"Oh yeah! Let's watch it?" Marty replied excitedly.

"Dude, no, don't be stupid. You'll burn your eyes if you do that."

"You know that doesn't actually happen, right? Oh shit look! It's happening!!"

Marty turned his head up to the sky, trying to catch a glimpse of the passing solar eclipse. Meanwhile, Chris just shook his head in disapproval and looked down at the ground instead. As he waited for the eclipse to pass, the ground underneath suddenly became flushed in a deep, luscious blue. Confused, Chris looked up and saw that everything as far as he could see had become blue- including the sun itself!

"What the fuck? Marty are you seeing this?"

Marty didn't answer. Chris turned to face him and gasped when he saw Marty's once brown eyes had become bloodshot and shined a brilliant blue. His face was contorted with pain. Chris tried forcing him to look away, but despite being the stronger of the two, he couldn't do it. His gaze was fixed solely on the blue sun in the sky.

Thankfully the blue sun quickly faded away within the next minute, taking its strange blue sunlight with it. Whatever it was, that sun was clearly bad news for whoever looked at it! Chris exhaled. He thought it was over, but soon realized he was wrong when Marty still had bright blue eyes.

"Ugh... Uhhhh..." Marty groaned. He was shaking, breathing heavily too.

Then, out of nowhere, Marty started growing taller. His legs lengthened until he hit 6'2 in height. As he went through his sudden growth spurt, Marty's quads and calves thickened until he had a pair of muscular legs to call his own. The shorts he was wearing suddenly became too tight, which left little to the imagination as his junk grew bigger too. Even when flaccid, Marty had a thick cock tip that poked through the mesh of his shorts, almost like it demanded you look at it. As Marty continued growing, blood pumped into his new tool, causing it to grow even longer as it hardened. Marty had become hung like a horse who could not only show off his impressive size but grow even bigger when hard.

His torso grew to match his new proportions too. The body fat he had melted away, leaving behind a set of 6 pack abs with sharp lines in place of his formerly chubby belly. His shoulders filled in with muscle mass, giving him impressive traps and delts. His arms blew up with mass too. The muscles in his biceps and triceps exploded with size until he had melons for arms. His forearms and hands grew bigger too. Veins ran all along his sculpted arm, even without him flexing. Within a matter of minutes, Marty had grown the type of ripped physique bodybuilders take years to build!! Only once his transformation was complete did Marty's eyes return to his usual brown color.

"What just happened!?" Chris exclaimed. He stood by frozen in shock as Marty transformed right before his very eyes. If he hadn't witnessed for himself, Chris would've never believed that the jock standing in front of him was the same average guy he roomed with back in college!

Chris' sudden shout caught Marty's attention. He turned to face him and smiled. He had an innocent look in his eyes, as if he didn't just undergo a supernatural transformation into a bodybuilder a few moments ago. It left Chris utterly bewildered.

"Marty? What happened to you?" Chris asked. Marty seemed puzzled. Chris asked again but Marty's confused expression only sharpened.

"Martyyyy don't fuck around right now! You are still you, right?"

Marty remained unresponsive. It was like he didn't remember who Chris or even his own name! In a moment of desperation, Chris began using hand gestures as he talked. Marty mirrored his movements, though all it led to was him flexing his bicep and grinning innocently. It was no use.

While Marty was busy flexing his new muscles, Chris stood there in disbelief. His mind was buzzing nonstop with various questions. What happened to his friend? What exactly was that blue sun? Why didn't he transform if he was exposed to the weird light too? He had so many questions, but basically little to no answers.

As Chris tried making sense of the situation, a commotion broke in the neighborhood. Screams echoed from down the street. His neighbors came out, fear and confusion written on their faces. A few of them had muscular men Chris didn't recognize following them out into the street. They had no sense of urgency in their eyes. Just cheery dispositions without any worries in the world.

"Holy fuck..." Chris whispered, as the gravity of what happened settled in his mind. That weird sun only lasted a minute at most, but its impact was already felt by the people who happened to see it. There was no telling what would happen next now.

#male transformation #male body transformation #male shapeshift #muscle tf #permanent change

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tyummy-rp · 2 months ago

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do you believe in magic? | open

pu! ekaw, pu! ekaw, pu! ekaw

The words echoed in Tara’s subconscious, an attempt to pull her from a deep slumber. Her phone was lit up, 3:33 AM shining on the screen. Witching hour. In her bed, Tara was sat up right, mouth moving, words falling from her lips, though she was still totally unconscious.

Slowly, her eyes fluttered open, glowing a soft purple color that seemed to illuminate the darker space. She was still her, but there was something new inside of her, something propelling her forward.

“sdrac torat.” Again, a voice that was hers but foreign to her filled the room as she sat on the middle of her floor. “tlas.” Both her Tarot Cards and salt seemed to appear from nowhere. She doesn’t question it, in the moment is all makes sense. On the floor, she draws a protection circle, followed by a star on the inside. “Seldnac.” with that command, mini tea lights floated from her closet, “thgil.” The candles situated themselves into the proper spots on the protection circle before lighting themselves.

An hour later her room was filled with various items, tea lights the only source of light in the room. Her eyes were still glowing, a map spread out on her floor, a locator spell of sorts being done. She was missing something, and whatever was inside her was guiding her towards it. “Em wohs.” Tara was leaning over the map, focusing on the feeling bubbling inside of her. Blood dripped onto the map, an answer to a question she still didn’t understand. Bringing her hand up to her nose, she didn’t flinch, just took the location and left.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hours later, Tara could be spotted on the quad. The sun had finally come out, but she hadn’t even noticed how much time had passed. Her arms were full of books, cards, various vials and ingredients, heading back to Alpha. She was still in her PJ’s, still in a trance, and eyes still glowing purple.

#rp #open #halloween #yyhalloween #witch!tara

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weemssapphic · 3 months ago

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Hey, so I have a thout that's been eating away at my brain for a while... Larissa and Reader have been in a relationship for a while and reader likes to vape. They keep this secret from Larissa and avoid doing it around her or people that know her bc they're worried she'll disaprove. One day, Larissa gets done with a meeting early and goes back to her quarters and finds reader vaping on the balcony. They freak out and starts apologizing saying they understand if this changes how she sees them and Larissa shuts them down, confessing that she smokes and has been hiding it for the same reason as reader. Just lots of fluff, basically.

Totally get it if you don;t feel comfotable writing this, vaping isn't for everyone.

(sorry about the spelling/grammer mistakes, I'm high af right now.)

Hello :) thank you for the request - I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope you enjoy reading it!

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes

Larissa Weems x reader Words: ~1.4k | ao3 link in title

It’s a chilly autumn afternoon and you’re huddled on the balcony of Larissa’s quarters, pulling the sleeve of your jacket down over your hand as you lean against the stone balustrade. You bring your vape to your lips and it crackles softly as you take a hit, the scent of watermelon filling the air as you exhale. You’ve lucked out with your teaching schedule this semester and managed to get Friday afternoons off, and today you’re especially grateful for that: it’s your 3 month anniversary and you’re intending to surprise Larissa by having dinner ready when she gets back to her quarters this evening.

You’re grateful that Larissa’s balcony faces the woods - no one ever comes out on this side of the school, so no one will see you having a quick vape out here. It’s not that you’re ashamed of your habit, you truly don’t care what other people think of you - except for Larissa. You care a hell of a lot about what Larissa thinks of you.

A few weeks into your teaching contract, you’d overheard Larissa scolding a group of students in the quad for passing around a vape, confiscating the little device - when she’d run into you on her way back into the school, she’d made a disgruntled comment on how disappointed she was in the students for picking up such a habit. Her comment had made you falter, as you’d been on your way outside for a vape yourself, and you resigned yourself to hiding this part of you from the principal - you imagined she’d be disappointed in you, too.

As you stand outside watching the wind pass through the golden leaves of the trees bordering the school’s campus, you run through your plans for the evening in your head. The flowers still need to be put in a suitable vase, and you still need to get changed - you should probably get started on dinner within the next hour, too, so that Larissa doesn’t have to wait too long to eat when she finishes work.

You’re so wrapped up in your own thoughts that you don’t hear the door to Larissa’s quarters creaking open, or her heels clicking on the hardwood floors behind you, until it’s too late, until her smooth voice has called out “darling?” and you can feel her much taller figure looming behind you.

Her hands on your waist make you jump, which in turn makes you curse and fumble with your vape as it nearly slips from your hand and over the balustrade.

“Shit, Larissa,” you gasp, giggling nervously as you recover from the shock, your vape now held firmly in your hand as you lean back against your partner and melt into her warmth, a stark contrast to the biting cold air.

“What are you doing out here?” Larissa asks softly, her hands sliding around you to pull you flush against her, her lips meeting the crown of your head.

The color drains from your face and your palm suddenly feels clammy around your vape - as Larissa cranes her head and looks down at you, you know there’s no point in trying to hide it and brush it off. She’s seen it already.

“I-I…” The words die in your throat. As much as you’re sure she’d be disgusted by your habit, you’re even more certain that the fact you’ve been lying over the past few months is going to make everything that much worse.

“Is that a vape?” You can’t read Larissa’s expression, not that you’re really trying - you refuse to turn around in her arms, too busy trying to avoid eye contact and hide your growing blush as you rack your brain for a plausible explanation.

“You’re back early,” is all you manage to croak out, cursing yourself internally for the thin film of tears already clouding your vision.

“The mayor canceled our meeting,” Larissa says, sounding rather absent-minded, her eyes darting between you and your vice-like grip on your vape. “Darling, do you vape?”

“I… yeah,” you finally concede, crossing your arms over your chest to hug yourself. “I’m really sorry, I should’ve told you…”

“Why didn’t you?” Larissa’s voice sounds softer than you’d thought it would, less harsh than you’d imagined, and you risk a glance up at her to see her watching you with a furrowed brow. She looks a bit confused, but her expression is absent of the judgment you were so certain you’d find, and you bite your lip nervously.

“I didn’t want you to see me differently, I guess,” you mumble and, to your surprise, Larissa lets out a soft chuckle. “What?”

Larissa lets go of your waist and disappears into her quarters for a moment, leaving you on the balcony. Your brow furrows as you watch her bend over her handbag and retrieve something, before coming back outside and closing the balcony door behind her. She rests her forearms on the balustrade and your eyes widen as she flips open the top of a pack of cigarettes, pulling one out between long fingers and placing it between pursed, painted lips to light it with an ornate, silver lighter. When she plucks the cigarette from between her lips with two fingers, there’s a faint ring of lipstick around the end.

“Y-you… didn’t tell me you smoke,” you stammer out, a little taken aback.

“I didn’t want you to see me differently, I guess,” Larissa quotes you, her lips curling into a soft, sheepish smile, before she lifts the cigarette to her lips once more and takes a deep drag. She steps towards the little wrought-iron table on her balcony, taking a seat at one of the two matching chairs and reaching onto the floor behind a rather large potted plant - there’s an ashtray hidden there that she lifts onto the table, flicking the ash off the cigarette and crossing one leg over the other.

You’re a bit dazed, still processing the situation as you sit on the other chair, drawing your knees up to your chest and taking a hit of your vape. You can feel a smile slowly growing on your face however, relaxing more and more as you watch Larissa smoke her cigarette. You can’t help but chuckle a little, the absurdity of the situation hitting you. “I can’t believe I never realized you smoked,” you giggle, and your laugh makes Larissa smile, too.

“It wasn’t easy to hide,” she concedes with a blush. “I swear I don’t normally wear this much perfume…”

Her comment makes you laugh harder, a burden being lifted off your shoulders as you no longer feel like you’re lying to your partner, and you stand and walk over to Larissa, coming to a stop right in front of her. She uncrosses her legs, stubbing out her cigarette as you straddle her so that she can place her hands on your hips. You wrap your arms around her neck, resting your forehead against hers and smiling softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” you whisper.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, either, darling,” Larissa whispers back, giving your hips a reassuring squeeze before moving one hand to your cheek, cupping it and drawing you in for a slow, tender kiss that steals the air from your lungs. She tastes different than usual and it reminds you of your current situation, making you smile as you deepen the kiss and flick your tongue against hers, drawing a soft moan from her throat.

“You promise you don’t see me differently?” you murmur between kisses, and Larissa draws back from the kiss just enough to meet your gaze, bright blue eyes glistening with affection as they dance between your own.

“Not at all.” She goes in for another kiss, her own lips curling into a smile against yours, and her hand slips into the hair at the nape of your neck, painted nails scratching gently at the base of your scalp. “What are you doing in my quarters, anyway?” she asks with a soft smirk, knowing you must be planning something as it’s your anniversary.

“What, can’t I just get some peace and quiet here? The teacher’s wing is always so busy.”

Larissa huffs and playfully pinches your side, causing you to yelp.

“Okay, okay, I was going to surprise you with dinner. Happy?”

Larissa’s smile widens - made all the more endearing by the way her lipstick is smudged ever so slightly. “Very.”

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#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #principal weems x reader #larissa x reader

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extrajigs · 8 months ago

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Critters from the coasts of Backera! Wanted to explore pentapods of varying pod number. Info dump below!

The eco system these guys inhabit are the vast shallow sea beds between the sea and 'land'. Where the microbial mat swells up to take in sunshine whilst keeping somewhere between a few inches to a foot of water above. This habitat favors walking over swimming for larger beasts, doing a separate post for the 'fish' of Backera. Those are a whole other brand of beast. For now we'll stick to the larger animals on the scene. Going left to right because I'm biased. 1. A quad-pod, a fellow who specializes in using mouth parts modified into clubs to break into shells and rigid 'plants'. While they have two very LARGE jaws, the other three are teeny tiny so they mostly rely on suction once they open their food. They have decided to be boring and use only their front four legs for walking, whilst their hind leg is to scrape out divots to lay eggs in the sea bed. 2. A TRUE pentapod, these guys spend their day swishing their heads back and forth. The wide arc of their eyes allow them to always have a lot of vision above the waterline at all times. Their dainty mouthparts are a constant scuttle against the slime mat to kick up organic matter to scarf down. The long horn jutting up their back is actually hollow and used to trumpet at each other at a distance. Very noisy. 3. With the least amount of feet in the lineup is the flag foot! These fellas are built to prance through the water and chase down any poor fish spotted by those big ole peepers. But they really shine when it comes to display. Upon meeting, the smaller individual will lower their head and wave around their display legs, wooing their potential partner with flashes of color. Most of the time their audience ends up wandering away.

Want to work on more FLAVOR for Backera, this is only the START!

#pentapods #worldbuilding #art #speculative biology #spec bio #aliens #backera #xenobiology

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lodisama · 2 years ago

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RIDICULOUS (x.t)

xavier thorpe x reader (no pronouns mentioned)

summary: reader is wednesday's cousin, or rather, uncle fester's child. you have transferred to nevermore, and on your first week, you meet someone. this turns into forming a secret alliance wednesday can't know.

reader has the same powers as uncle fester (electricity)

Being around people who stare at you like your some animal zoo wasn’t really on my list, especially when they’re the same kind as you. An outcast or, a so called freak. I would’ve enjoyed this more if I did something terrible. But for some reason these people love peculiar blood lines.

I exit the door to the school indoors, and there I enter the quad. Where every student of monsters imaginable hang out. I loathe the gossips, but love the stares. Everyone turned their heads to me, then there was silence. I look around to muster in the atmosphere. It’s not that I think highly of myself. It’s just they make me feel highly than what they are. I felt a dark aura behind me, making its way next to me. I turn to my side, “Wednesday, my beloved cousin.” I turn my head back to the students, smiling, not at them but at her presence.

She has always made me feel wanted and seen, though we had different interests, she never failed to make me feel fit in.

“Y/n, it’s lovely to see you again.” Her hands clinged together, hanging down.

Her voice monotone, though I know her words were sincere. “How is the first week in this hellhole full of surprises?” She asked, sounding almost displeased. I sigh, not upset in any case. “Surprisingly good. Though my roommate appears to be a no-sleep enjoyer.” She hums, raising her eyebrows.

Silence fell after that, but then a familiar platinum blond, with colorful tips comes hopping our way. “Y/n, hope you don’t mind me borrowing Wednesday from you.” She smiles excitedly.

I return her kind smile, “No not at all, you may take her.” I see Wednesday look uncomfortable, but she let it happen. “Thank you!” Edin holds Wednesday by her shoulder, as they walk away to a bench. I walk to a pillar next to a wall art, standing beside the pillar. I felt electricity fuzz on my shoulder, making me flinch. I step back to see who it was

“What the…”— He looks down my size.—“Oh”

I hum, seeing the man. Tall, tall enough to be a tree, hair tied up, miserable eye bags, chiseled face. “No sorry? I apologize, I didn’t see you’s?” He raises his eyebrows, with a confused yet maintained calm tone. “Have you heard me say anything?” I respond, which he raises his eyebrows at this. He licks the inside of his cheek, muttering a silent Alright. He seemed used to it.

He turns around, and continued on painting the wall, the crow impressively detailed. He coated its background with a different shade of blue. I stare, blankly following his every move. “Please stop looking, I can feel your eyes,” The man lets out a breathy chuckle, still focused on the painting. My face hardens by the feeling of getting caught.

“My apologies.” I clutch on the bind of the book I was holding.

I didn’t give him time to say something, not that I was expecting him to. I turned around and went in a different turn of the quad.

Though I didn’t see it, he smiled unevenly when I apologized.

━ ━ ━✦❘༻༺❘✦━ ━ ━

"Do you know where it is?" Wednesday ask in a stern, yet eager voice. "Of course. Dad always told me stories about this school." Her eyes practically glew when I said that. "Will you please show me?" She blurted. "It's in that secret headquarters full of Nightshade wanna be's. " I slowly walk up the stairs, making sure my voice was low. She nods, satisfied with my answer. "I need you and Thing to get it for me. Weems has me on a radar right now." She stops next to the railings, looking at me. "Do you mind?" I smile at her, shaking my head a no "I don't mind , Wednesday". "Thank you." She whispers. As I look around, I saw Xavier looking at the both of us from the other side of the railings. My face turns stoic, as I inhale sharply.

"So I just snap two times?" I asked Wednesday. "Yes, you'll need this." She confirms, handing me a flashlight. Thing crawls on my shoulder, giving me a thumbs up. Got it I responded. I face the statue, snapping two times. The statue slowly moved backwards, revealing a spiral staircase on the right side. I checked to look at my back. Wednesday was already gone. I exhale, walking to the stairs, the dark room full of paintings and the smell of old books greeted me. I point my flashlight to the wall, seeing every painting of whom I assume to be the parents of these students, which I familiarly recognize.

Unfortunately my father, didn’t possess the academic aptitude to be here, but I am grateful to be filled with his knowledge about this school, and letting me experience it at least.

My whole body shivers in joy seeing the Nightshade logo on the floor. Pure ecstasy erupted in me. Finally happy to see one of the best stories my father has ever told me, right in front of me. I keep my pace slow, paranoid by the idea of getting caught, but either way, what bliss. I could feel Thing patiently waiting on my shoulder. Suddenly, I hear something shift behind me. I had the instinct to turn around and flash out electricity on my finger, not yet zapping the said noise. "Woah━ woah." The man raises his arms up in the air, moving backwards. "Xavier?" I say breathly, whilst my eyes wide open. I slowly lower my hand, the electricity disappearing on my finger tips. We both pause. A minute of taking heavy breaths. Now that we're all alone, under this dim light, he looks good. Genuinely good. His hair not tied up in a man bun was a foreign sight to see. He was the first one to break the silence. "What are you doing here?" Brows furrowed, voice shaky. I blink profusely, thinking of an answer. Usually I'm great with lying, even at the most unbelievable situations. But right now, I can't just discard him away or say that I was exploring the school. Fuck.

My mouth opens, then it closes again. "Exploring. I couldn't sleep." I say. I try to ignore his eyes. Clearly doubting my excuse. "How did you get in? Not many people can." He asks. I subtly smile "Do you think of me as stupid?" I muse, tilting my head. He stiffens in his position "No━I just━ Forget it, I'm sorry." He rubs the back of his neck. "No worries," I blankly say, hiding my laugh. My eyes look around the room, seeing the painting that hides the treasure Wednesday desires. I make my way to it, not caring that he was still behind me. "What are you looking for?" He follows behind me. "This is none of your business." I hold the side of the painting, opening it like a door. "What the hell.." He says in awe. I hadn't even realize it, but Thing was now nowhere in my sight. "Thing?" I call out for him. "Wait, what? What are really here for, Y/n?" His voice now serious. I inhale deeply in exasperation. Turning around, I fuse electricity on my finger, pointing it at him. "Dare to speak a word of this and I will electrocute you in your bath." I threatened, slowly walk towards him. He looks at the blue fuzzing thing on my finger. "Okay, I won't. What can I do to help?" I sigh in annoyance once again, and I think he got the idea, but still stayed. "I prefer to commit theif crime alone." Thing signed, agreeing with me. "Would you rather me tell on Weems?" It's his turn to threaten me now. Though it didn't do much. "She'll lose one of the most rarest outcast, then." I smugly reply. "Trust me no one here needs you," I could hear his smile through those words. I ignore him, and proceeded to do what I was told to do. "Thing, open the safe please." I ordered Thing, and like that he obliged. "Hey, I don't think we're supposed to open that safe." Xavier peers, concerned of some sort. "Then leave." I bent down to the size of the painting or rather, safe. It opened swiftly, revealing the book I needed. I softly gasp, grabbing the book. Flipping through the pages. The pages contain different kinds of beasts. The man behind me slowly made his way next to me, interested in my discovery. My eyes widen as I saw the beast my cousin has been obsessed with. "That's the thing I keep on dreaming about," His voice low. My brows knit together, turning my head to his face level. "You've seen this before?" I ask in curiosity. He nods, "Yeah. I've been drawing them too, it's been on my mind for so long. It's fucking me up." He covers his mouth, faltering his eyes at mine. There was a pause, but then I turned around to look back at the book. I sharply close it, emitting a sound. I grab my bag, putting the book inside. "Thank you, Thing." I looked at the moving hand. Thing crawls back on my shoulder, making himself comfy. "Y'know, you might get caught, right?" Xavier puts his hands inside his jean pockets. "Yes, and the idea excites me." I reply coldly. Xavier snickers at this. "Let's go before anyone notices we're gone." I said. He nods, letting me walk up the stairs first, his tall figure following me behind. We made it out the underground place, and I immediately turn to a different path, but I was abruptly stopped by a hand holding tightly on my wrist. I look at his hand and up at him. "What?" I ask. "Do you have a phone, or are you just like your cousin?" He chuckles lowly. I straighten my position, raising my eyebrows. 'I prefer to be old schooled." I replied. "Letters?" He breathed. Well he catch on quick. "Yes. Why?" pure confusion runs my head. "Expect letters under your door." He drops my hand, now pointing at me. "I'll be ready with a lighter to burn them." I muse once again. "Is that a yes?" He pushed further on. This boy is ridiculous. I nod slowly, I could see and hear his smile through the darkness. "Goodnight Y/n."

#xavier thorpe #wednesday #wednesday netflix #xavier thorpe x reader #enid emma myers #nightshades #wednesday 2022 #uncle fester #addams family #no pronouns

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amuyyi · 6 months ago

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venus .

synopsis; you're going on your third year of university, and your friend kazuha invites you to an end of the year ball. parties have never been your thing, but for her? youll make an exception.

trope; non-idol!kazuha x f!reader, friends to lovers, fluff, suggestive, kinda smut? ball/fancy party ! university au!

wc; 6.3k

cw; kinda suggestive, kinda smut? cursing.

a/n; i decided to try writing something suggestive for the first time and next thing u know im 6k words in and i started going thru burnout near the middle/end >< apologies, just wanted to get one last fic out before i disappear to china for 2 weeks!

Your eyebrows knit together with immense concentration as your eyes shift between the notebook on the picnic table and your laptop propped up in front of it, your hand gripping your pen with an unbreakable grip. It was a wonderful day out on the university campus quad, with perfectly warm but not too hot temperatures and a light breeze, and you decided to take advantage of the perfect study environment to finish up the last homework assignments you had. You could see people from the corner of your vision, some were walking with friends, others lounging within hammocks they propped up between trees, you could even spot a group of boys playing pickleball. There were squirrels either digging within the dirt or rummaging through nearby trash cans, and birds singing from the trees. These were perfect conditions to allow for optimum problem solving. You look back at your work. Now, if you just had the correct formula and numbers, the answer should be…

“y/n!”

Before you could even process who had ripped your focus away from solving your chemistry homework, a colorful piece of paper was shoved directly into your face. With the way it was aggressively being waved around and how close it was, you could already tell who the concentration-culprit was.

“Kazuha, what am I looking at?” You ask aloofly, trying to move your head away so you could actually read the parchment. As you make your futile attempts, you catch a quick glimpse of the Japanese girl, seeing that she's made her way to sit on top of the picnic table instead of on the actual very much open seat with her long legs crossed as she beams at you.

“Can’t you read it?” Her voice was sweet and upbeat, as if the answer she was expecting was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Not when you have it literally 2 inches from my face and you won’t stop shaking.”

You can see Kazuha roll her eyes playfully as she pulls the parchment away, placing it on top of your notebook to allow a proper view of its contents. “It's a ball!” You hear Kazuha say excitedly as you skim over the information on the page, “The university’s hosting it as a sort of end of the year celebration. It's gonna be at this fancy castle place that rich white people used to hold masquerades and all that kind of stuff at back then.”

“No.” Your response was almost instantaneous, and you can immediately see Kazuha’s face turn into a frown and then a pout as she whines, leaning forward above your laptop screen, “Whaaaatt? Why not?”

You cross your arms and shrug, shifting your gaze over to the other students enjoying the weather as you speak, “Parties just aren’t my thing, Zuha. They’re loud and cramped, and more often than not I somehow always end up alone.” The way you spoke would’ve sounded quite pitiful if you weren't so firm with your words. What you said wasn’t some opportunity to gain pity from your friend, it was merely fact. Whenever you went to any sort of party or dance with your various groups of friends throughout the years, sooner or later they would break into their own little mini groups, and you were left floating amongst their conversations, left out. You simply didn’t want to relive that experience again with your current college friend group.

Kazuhas frown deepens as she closes your laptop, crawling closer to you from the top of the picnic table as she puts on her best puppy eyes, “come onnnn… Please? The girls already bought tickets, and it's almost our last year of uni! ” She begs, and you try your best to mask the smile that's threatening to form from the corner of her mouth as you repeat your answer, “no.”

She inches closer to you, grabbing you by the shoulders as she lightly shakes your body back and forth, as if that would help get her words from her mouth into your brain and into your heart. “It won't be the same without you!! Yunjin and Chaewon will likely end up hardcore drinking the whole night together, and Sakura is gonna be babysitting Eunchae the whole time!!! You’re the only person I’d genuinely want to spend all night with. I haven’t even bought my tickets yet because I’ll only go if you go!! ” You bite back laughter as she continues to whine, words spilling out of her mouth at rapid speed.

“It’ll be just like prom!”

“I didn’t go to prom.”

“Exactly!”

Hiding your grin was starting to become pretty difficult. Frankly, it felt nice to be wanted. Especially by Kazuha. She's always been so kind to you ever since freshman year, and has always tried her best to include you in social events with her friends. Even so, despite her quite literally saying she wants you there you still can't shake off the feeling that you’d end up alone just like always. You look back at Kazuha and see her desperately trying to win you over, her eyes almost sparkling with a cartoonish glint as she frowns… Still, you’d hate to be the reason why the other girl doesn’t go to an event she is so explicitly excited for.

Letting out a defeated sigh, you rub your temples as you give in, “Fine, I’ll go.”

You watch as Kazuha immediately lights up at your response, pulling you into an all too tight hug as she gleams, “Yes!!! You’re the best!”

“But! Only on one condition,” You pull yourself away from Kazuha and stick up your index finger in her face, forcing her back as she looks you in the eyes, nodding to indicate she was all ears. “You won’t leave me alone.”

The taller girl rolls her eyes as she scoffs, swatting your finger away dismissively as she speaks, “That was already part of the plan, silly. You wont leave my sight the entire night.” The gives your nose a light tap with her finger as your face scrunches up, not appreciating the gesture before shaking your head, beginning to shoo her off the table and onto her feet.

“Okay, okay. Now go away, I need to finish my work.” You allow yourself to smile fully this time, unable to truly keep up the cold and dismissive persona as she winks at you, “Meet me at my place on friday, we’re gonna go dress shopping!” You watch as she spins on her heel and merrily walks down the quad, chuckling at the sight before you return to your work.

…Did she turn off your homework program when closing your laptop?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Soon enough, Friday had come and you swiftly made your way to the front of Kazuha’s apartment. You had decided to wear a simple white tank top and skirt paired with a bolero top to make changing a quick and efficient process. In all honesty, you were both a little bit excited for this experience but also dreading it for multiple reasons. On one hand, you really didn’t want to go to this ball. The idea of a majority of the university being put into a castle where you could easily get lost and lose sight of your friends was not an ideal situation. On the other hand though, Kazuha did promise you that you wouldn’t be alone this time. The idea of her having all of her attention on you throughout the night didnt sound all too bad…Plus, you did enjoy dressing up and feeling pretty. You sigh as you quickly send Kazuha a text.

Y/n [14:05] – Here.

Zuha [14:05] – come in ^w^ im still getting ready

You laugh a little to yourself at the text, Kazuha was always so punctual until it came to you. You didn’t take any offense to it though, you soon learned over the years that it was a sign that she felt comfortable to take her time with you.

You open the door and you’re greeted with a welcoming living room, ambient light illuminating the sight as you take it in. Kazuha most definitely pays a fortune in rent for this place, the walls lined with large bookcases and a generously sized couch pressed up against the wall. The interior of the apartment was various shades of gray and white, yet somehow still managed to exude a comforting warmth despite the cooler tone. There were blankets and pillows scattered charmingly on the couch and the bookshelves not only held actual books, but also little trinkets of all kinds, including rocks, figurines, and origami figures. The kitchen table had a bowl of fruit freshly put out, and you take notice of a pair of ballet shoes placed next to the door. There have been many nights spent here with the other girls before, whether it be movie nights or drinking, and you can appreciate Kazuha in keeping the space clean for your arrival.

You immediately make your way to the couch, the plush fabric giving into your weight as you get comfortable. A few minutes of aimless scrolling on your phone pass before Kazuha emerges from the nearby hallway, her long black hair ruffled in an intentional way as she wore a black tank top and jeans with a matching jean jacket that slightly slipped off her shoulders, exposing them. You find yourself staring a little longer than usual, taking in the sight before you. Of course, Kazuha was always beautiful— all of your friends were, but something about her outfit and hair and light makeup she put the effort into doing for a simple girls day out with you made your throat unexpectedly run dry.

In all honesty, ever since you first met Kazuha you have always thought she was incredibly attractive, and her kindness and bright personality that came out as you two got closer made her even more desirable; but the idea of ruining the first friend you made in college with a dumb crush immediately steered you away from making any moves beyond platonic. Most of the time you can forget that you even felt anything towards her in the first place, with schoolwork often taking up most of your brainspace— but not this time, apparently. You try to not let your eyes linger on her for too long before she speaks up.

“You ready?” She asks, snapping you out of your trance as she smiles, twirling her car keys along her index finger. You get up from your seat, clearing your mind from your previous intrusive thoughts as you nod, following her out of the apartment and into her car.

The ride to the boutique was enough to completely make you forget about whatever ideas you had before, the pair of you singing all kinds of songs as the world seems to pass you two by on the road. Kazuha had an impressive roster of j-pop music queued up for the ride, and you found yourself silently admiring her as she loudly sang the lyrics out the window as she drove, giving the sky a performance that could never be replicated.

You always seem to forget that the girl was practically born for the arts— from dancing to singing or just general charm, Kazuha was a perfect candidate to become a celebrity or the other. She was beyond good at what she did. It was only reasonable for her to pursue a performing arts major, and you were certain that after graduation you’d see her on the big screen, dancing and singing for the whole world to see. You could only hope that out of everyone in the world who would listen, she’d still find you. You try to follow along with her singing, but you don't know even a fraction of Japanese, and Kazuha can't help but laugh at your efforts. Smiling, you look out the window to try and hide your blush.

Once the two of you arrive at the boutique off campus, Kazuha was quick to drag you towards the wide variety of dresses lined up on the walls, “so… what kind of dress are you thinking?” She asks excitedly, already rummaging through dresses while constantly looking between you and the rack, “I think you should go for something that's gonna enunciate your curves, you got a hot bod.” The comment was so lighthearted and so painfully platonic, yet it still made your cheeks warm. You can’t be feeling these things right now. You dismissively wave your hand as you respond, “don't tease me, Zuha.. besides, aren't you supposed to be looking for dresses for yourself?”

The taller girl furrows her brows as she grabs your forearm, giving it a firm squeeze, “I’m being serious y/n, you’re crazy hot. Give yourself some more credit!” She shifts her attention back to the dresses and her eyes catch sight of a bundle of blue fabric, pulling it off the rack she shoves it into your arms and guides you to the dressing room, “try this on, I’m gonna find some more dresses for you!!”

You were left dumbfounded by Kazuhas words within the changing room for a moment before you pat your cheeks, forcing yourself to focus on the task at hand before trying on the dress. The way she spoke to you felt way too much like a girl talking to another one of her “girl friends” and it made your stomach churn, but you repressed the feelings as you slipped on the blue fabric. It took a bit of effort, but after fighting the tightness you were able to get the dress on. It definitely hugged your body well, being a bodycon style and all, but you felt like a ball at a castle calls for a more dramatic and elegant look.

You step out of the changing room, looking around for your friend as she quickly shuffles her way back, her face partially masked by the comically tall tower of clothing she carried within her hands. Her eyes scanned you from top to bottom, eyebrows raised as she takes in your appearance, smirking a little at how shy you become. “I… don't think this one is good for the ball, it kinda feels like I’m going to the bar?” You sheepishly comment, suddenly shrinking and trying to hide your body from your friend as she places the dresses on the bench nearby.

She places a finger on her chin and her other hand on her hip as her eyes glaze over you again, deep in thought as she nods. “Yeah, youre right… but you still look great, you should wear something like that for my birthday,” she smiled mischievously, but you could tell she was being serious with her words. You try to stop your heart from practically racing out of your chest as you quickly grab another dress from the pile, disappearing into the changing room as Kazuha giggles.

Soon enough, you and Kazuha are practically going through a real life movie montage, with you trying on every dress she suggests and her sitting down and giving you her opinions. You had tried on a flowy red dress that was off the shoulder, and the color was great but Kazuha wasn’t much of a fan of the shape. There was a champagne dress that was very princess-like, but was just simply too much. The layers and the itchiness and overload of glitter made you want to die. This continued on with just about every color and style of dress until the ravenette hands you a long white dress, throwing you a thumbs up and a wink as you disappear back into the changing room. Honestly this was all fun, but if this wasn't the piece for you after going through what felt like thousands before, you were just going to show up in a t-shirt and shorts.

As you slip on this dress, you notice the amount of detail put into it. It was an off the shoulder dress with a leg slit in which the fabric twists around your hips almost like if it were a flower. It hugged your body well, but it wasn't suffocating whatsoever, and the fabric was surprisingly comfortable with a shimmery sheen on top. It was beautiful, but you couldn't manage to zip up the back of the dress by yourself. You poke your head out and meet the gaze of Kazuha, waving your hand to beckon her over and into the room with you.

You couldn't help but notice the way her eyes widened when she saw you, and how they eased over every part of your body for just a little bit too long. You let out an uncomfortable yet soft cough and she snaps her attention back to you, “This.. This might be the dress!” She says, putting on a smile as you laugh at her response, “yeah? You think so?” And she nods, shooting you a comical double thumbs up as you continue, “I need help with the zipper, though. Do you mind?” You turn around and expose your bare back to the other girl.

You try to keep your gaze downwards as you feel her fingers trail down your back, all too scared to accidentally make eye contact with her while so vulnerable. Still, it seemed like the harder you tried to not do it, the more prompted you were to do so. Sparing a glance into the mirror it's nearly impossible to notice how Kazuha bites her lip, her fingers shaking as she zips up the dress for you, almost as if she was scared to touch you. You can feel her breath on the back of your neck and you shiver, realizing she's gotten closer. Her eyes dart up to meet yours within the reflection, and you’re left there frozen like a deer in the headlights. Her hands slowly trail down your sides and firmly land on your hips as she once again drinks in the sight of you, but this time, there's nowhere to go.

All of a sudden it became very very hard to think. For the first time, you see Kazuha’s eyes darken, and you cannot figure out what could possibly be going on in her mind. Hell, you can barely figure out what's going on in your own. She still hasn't broken eye contact with an unreadable poker face as she wraps her arms completely around your hips, pulling you closer and completely pressing your bodies together. You gasp at the sudden contact, feeling heat shoot through the entirety of your body, your ass pressed up against her core. What is she doing? What are you doing? You close your eyes, unable to look at the vulgar spectacle before you. She leans down and gently places her chin on your shoulder as she leans into the cook of your neck, and you feel the ghost of her lips hovering over the sensitive skin, waiting. The sensation causes the quietest whisper of a whimper to escape your lips.

And just like that, it was as if a switch flipped. “You look so pretty!~” she cooes, squeezing your body and rocking the both of you side to side in a playful (and very platonic) embrace as she grins, “You’re going to catch so many eyes at the ball. I’ll let you change and we’ll buy this dress then head out, yeah?” The words flow out so fast, Kazuha manages to slip out of the small changing room before you could even process what happened.

As soon as you hear the sound of her footsteps fading, you press you back up against the cold mirror, hand on your chest as you feel your heart threaten to give in. You squeeze your thighs together as you try to calm every nerve in your body that was working over time (it was all of them.)

Sweat forms on the top of your forehead as you shakily breathe out, “fuck…”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The next few days following the “dress incident” as you very originally named, went by painfully slow. Seeing as it was the end of the school year, you had already finished all of your finals and you were simply left sitting alone in your apartment trapped within your thoughts as the days passed. There isn't any more schoolwork to keep you distracted, but frankly, you dont think even all the assignments in the world could keep you from thinking about what happened in that dressing room. You haven't texted Kazuha since. How could you? What even was that? There had to be a logical explanation for… whatever that was, surely. You’ve known Kazuha for around three years now, and not once has she ever done anything to show you she may like you more than platonically.

The situation left you so distressed, you sought out solace in the form of your roommate, Sakura. You’re left restlessly pacing the living room, biting your nails as you retell the story, the older girl’s eyes following your every move. After seeing you do about 30 rounds around the coffee table, Sakura finally decides to speak up. “Y/n… you do know Kazuha has always treated you differently than the rest of us, right?”

Almost comically, your neck snaps towards your roommate as you dash over to her, grabbing her firmly by the shoulders as your eyes widen, staring her down with a stress driven craze, “what.”

Sakura immediately raises her hands in defense, dropping her phone as she is practically pinned against the couch by your unexpected strength. “I-I’m just saying..! Kazuha has always been a pretty shy and reserved person. I mean, she can hold conversations well with just about anyone just fine. But with you? I've never seen her so outwardly affectionate to anyone. She's always touching you and being… silly? I don't know. At least with me, she’s upbeat sure, but she's usually so much quieter, never latching onto my arm, whining, or always trying to get my attention in any way… I'm sure it's the same for the others too…”

As the older girl’s words trail off, your grip on her loosens, and you can see her sigh in relief as you collapse on the couch next to her, lost in thought. Did Kazuha really treat you differently? “But I thought she was just, I don't know, treating me like one of her girl friends? Gal pals or whatever?”

Sakura simply shrugs at this response, “Maybe to her, you’re more than that.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

You sit in the passenger seat of Sakura’s car as you wait in front of Eunchae’s dorm building. Alongside the dress from the store, your hair was tied up into a low bun held in place with a white floral hair stick and accented with a gold arm cuff and necklace that crawled up your body nicely. Sakura had a light pink mermaid style dress on with pearl accents, and you can catch a glance of Eunchae waddling her way over, her hair in an adorable high ponytail to match with her puffy blue dress.

You exchange pleasantries with the younger girl before turning your attention to your phone, nervously nibbling on the pad of your thumb as you quickly send a text to the girl whos been driving you crazy.

Y/n [19:56] – Kkura, Eunchae, and I will be there in five.

Zuha [19:56] – yay!! can't wait to see you in that pretty dress <33

You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling the blush rush to your face.

Y/n [19:57] – What dress are you wearing btw? I didn't see you buy one at the boutique.

Zuha [19:58] – its a surprise～～ (^з^)-☆

“Who are you texting??” Eunchae’s voice rings out, and you immediately shut off your phone in a mild panic as she leans over your shoulder, frowning at the black screen before her.

“Just letting Zuha know we’re on our way– and put your seatbelt on.” You realize how much you sound like a mother in that moment, and it shows on your face, cringing at yourself as Eunchae snickers, returning to her seat as you make your way to the castle.

To describe the venue as grand was an understatement. Your eyes are met with towering spires that stretch dramatically into the sky. The castle was constructed entirely of stone, its walls weathered from the centuries of its existence, dark green ivy leaves crawling up its exterior, giving the fortress a sense of timelessness and majesty. “Wooaaah!! This looks even prettier than the pictures!! They must’ve paid a fortune for this place,” Eunchae’s upbeat cheer interrupts the serene experience as you and Sakura look at each other, laughing as you guide the younger girl down the cobblestone path and toward the crowd.

It felt like all of the university was here at the castle, the courtyard becoming a hive of activity as people shuffled their way in and out through the main doors and from the main hall. The dimly lit grandeur of the hallway before you left you awestruck, casting long shadows that helped illuminate the faces of the individuals passing you by. You spot Kazuha almost too quickly within the crowd, her hair placed elegantly along her bare shoulders as you finally get a look at the dress she picked out for this occasion. She chose the color black for her dress, almost as if to intentionally match your own. The dress was strapless, showcasing her shoulders with a sweetheart neckline that had a hypnotic type of allure to it. The top was fitted, hugging her body and torso to excellently showcase her slim figure before flowing out into a multi layered floor-level skirt. Alongside this, she wears a pair of long black gloves and a pearl necklace that enhances Kazuha’s beauty tenfold, her aura emitting a sense of timelessness and grace. She looked beyond gorgeous, like a black swan. You feel your ears grow hot and your stomach do flips as Sakura gives you a reassuring squeeze on your hand, smiling softly as she guides you and Eunchae towards the group.

Yunjin and Chaewon hold Kazuha in conversation, and you can see a small smile form on her lips as she listens to the duo intently. As the three of you approach, you lock eyes with Yunjin, who grins at your arrival, playfully moving past Kazuha and Chaewon as she wraps her arms around your neck, pulling you into a warm embrace. “y/n!! You made it!!” You get a whiff of her perfume and are immediately hit with a woody scent with a mix of citrus, which you think is fitting with her short green dress and bright orange hair. You laugh into the hug, giving her a light squeeze before looking over at Kazuha.

You swear you see her eyebrow twitch for a millisecond before Yunjin glances at the other girl. Giggling, she leans in and whispers into your ear, “She’s been talking about you all night, by the way.”

Cheeks now embarrassingly flushed, Yunjin pulls away, and you can see Kazuha glaring daggers into the back of Yunjins head as Chaewon sighs, pulling her partner away from you and linking their arms together. The bob-haired girl wore a blood red maxi dress, with matching stiletto heels to boot. She had an authoritative energy to her tonight, and if she wasn’t your friend, you think you would’ve been a little intimidated. “Let the girl breathe, Jen.”

You sheepishly smile as Yunjin sticks her tongue out at the shorter girl, beckoning for Sakura and Eunchae to join as they chatter amongst themselves, leaving you and Kazuha off to the side. After exploding Yunjin with her mind, Kazuha’s gaze softens as she walks up to you, her breath hitching as she opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. You giggle at the sight as she grabs your hands with her gloved ones, looking you in the eyes as she speaks, “you look stunning tonight, y/n,” and the words held a completely different meaning this time. She’s complimented you before– countless times really, but they held a different weight now. It was different now that you could feel an unseen electricity between you two. It was different now because of what she did (or didn't do) to you in the changing room that day.

Blushing, you squeeze her hands, “You look beautiful as well, Kazuha.” Your words were breathless and shy, and you think about how embarrassing it is to say that she quite literally took your breath away with her look tonight. You’re not too sure how long you and Kazuha stood there in the middle of the hall, simply staring at each other as the world seemed to no longer exist around you, but the sound of a cough brings the both of you back down to reality.

“Wanna go to the dance floor? They also have food and drinks,” Chaewon suggests, already leading the group as you can now clearly see how flushed Kazuha’s cheeks are, and you melt at the sight, intertwining your fingers with hers as you follow the group onwards.

The rest of the night was spent dancing and enjoying your time off with your friends. Eunchae was socializing with just about any person who crossed paths with her, Sakura having to hold her back to ensure she didn't get lost. As expected, Yunjin and Chaewon had actually already pregamed the event, but still had more alcohol hidden within their dresses. They offered you a shot, but you declined (much to Yunjins dismay.)

Despite Kazuha being rather introverted and soft spoken most of the time, she definitely had more friends than you realized. Almost every five minutes she would be approached by some group of girls or a lone guy and she’d end up in a conversation that would leave you off to the side. Despite this, Kazuha was an expert at staying true to her word. She always held your hand within hers, sparing glances back at you and playing with your fingers while socializing, almost as if silently saying, “I’m still with you.”

The gesture was sweet, and you really did appreciate it all. But as the night wagered on, you couldn't help but feel that familiar prickling feeling creeping up on you once again. The amount of people brushing up against you made your skin crawl, and the music seemed to be all consuming and suffocating despite the large size of the room you were in. Even holding onto Kazuha's hand was beginning to feel like too much. You frown.

You watch as Kazuha chats with a girl you recognize as Danielle, and you tug a little bit on her arm, catching the taller girl’s attention as she leans over to you, offering an ear as Danielle continues to ramble on. “I think I’m going to get some air!” You try to speak over the music, and it takes a moment for the words to register in her mind, “Do you want me to come with you?” She asks, her eyes caring as she looks into yours, and you want to say “yes, always,” but the rhythm from above begins to shift, and you watch as Danielle’s eyes light up as she grabs hold of Kazhua.

“Oh my god. I love this song, we HAVE to dance, come on!!”

Soon enough your hands break away from one another, and you try to give a reassuring smile to Kazuha who tried to make her way back to you, but ended up getting swept away by Danielle into the sea of people rotating to the dance floor. The smile on your lips drops as soon as she is no longer in sight, and you take a moment to look around. The other girls were nowhere in sight, and there were only strangers surrounding you as you awkwardly mumbled half hearted apologies, desperate to be anywhere but here.

After running through what felt like endless hallways, you burst through a set of wooden doors. Your face is hit with a cool breeze and you finally feel like you can breathe.

You sigh and rub your head, taking in the cold night air as you try to calm yourself down. How ironic. You were so insistent on not being left alone on this night, and when you get what you want, you choose to return to the familiar feeling of solidarity.

Taking in your surroundings, you realize you have ended up on an unused balcony, the stone flooring facing out into the forest beyond. The faint flickering of fireflies emerge from the darkness, and you take a moment to simply just take it all in— to ground yourself. The muffled booming of music from inside lingers, and you close your eyes, leaning over the balcony in contentment.

“Y’know, I don’t think we’re allowed here.”

Kazuha’s warm voice rings out, and you twirl around, finding the taller girl smiling at you softly. She joins your side, staring off into the forest before looking back at you. “Are you okay?”

You hum in response, nodding as you breathe out, eyes focused on the fireflies ahead. “yeah, it was just getting really overwhelming in there…”

Kazuha stays silent, also staring off as a comfortable silence drapes over you two. You can't help but let your mind linger again to the changing room instance, and you look back at the ravenette. She seemed completely unphased by the situation, and you start to wonder if it even happened at all. You open your mouth, wanting to ask what exactly you two were, but the sound of the music inside slowing down catches Kazuha’s attention.

Her ears perk at the tune, and she shifts her gaze back to you, offering her gloved hand just like she did at the very start of this night. “May I have this dance?”

The question catches you completely off guard, and you can't help but laugh, all tension within your mind and body letting loose. “What?? Right now?”

Kazuha gives a gummy smile, “yes. I’d like to dance with you. Right here, right now.”

Your laughter continues and rings out into the night, it’s a wonderful feeling. “Zuha, you know I can't dance,” you chuckle, and despite this truth, you still allow her to take your hand in hers.

“Then just follow my lead.”

You’re pulled into her body, and its a softer experience than before. She guides your free hand onto her shoulder before she places hers on the small of your back. You ease into her touch as she leads the way, taking the first steps and guiding your body to follow. It was clumsy and messy at first, with several instances of you stumbling on your feet and needing Kazuha to keep you up, but it didn't matter at all.

How could it? How could anything else matter in the world right now when the moonlight above framed her face so perfectly? When the shine of the fireflies are dull compared to the woman before you right now?

The both of you laugh as she twirls you in sync with the muffled tune of the song, and you can't help but let out a surprised yelp as she dips you, your hair flying back as you are given a clear sight of the canvas of stars just above the two of you. It was stunning, romantic, even. Kazuha lifts you back up, and suddenly your lips are centimeters apart. You feel her hot breath against your lips, and you suddenly feel like you’ve been transported back to that cramped room.

You feel Kazuha hesitate, before she asks, in barely a whisper, “C-Can I…?”

You would have laughed at the question, the words being so upfront yet so scared coming out of her lips if you didn't so desperately want it as well.

“Please.”

Kazuhas lips immediately press against yours, and it's sweet. It's intentional and tender, full of pent up emotions that threaten to overflow, but the need in the way she tightens her grip on you is strong. She's waited so long for this, and she wants to enjoy it all, but she's holding back, scared that you'll slip away again. Her lips taste like cherries, and it's a wonderful flavor. A flavor you’ve waited three years to taste. You find yourself licking your own lips as you pull away, your arms wrapped around her neck as your faces remain close.

“Is this what you wanted to do when you cornered me back at the boutique?” You whisper, your lips teasingly hovering over Kazuha’s, pulling back when she tries to meet them. You smile mischievously as you see her grow impatient.

“Something like that.”

She's suddenly latched onto you again, lips pressing against yours with more pressure as you gasp, your hand instinctively flying to her hair as you dig your nails into her scalp. A sound you’d never expect to ever come out of such a quiet girl erupts from Kazuha’s throat.

A growl.

You feel that all too familiar heat shoot throughout your body once again as the taller girl pushes you against the stone railiing, her lips trailing down your jawline and onto your neck. Her teeth graze the skin and you cant help but let out a moan, your voice egging her on even more as she begins to mark your neck.

You really should stop her. You’re still out in public, and there was no way you would be able to cover any hickeys she may leave on you with a dress that was very much made to remain off your shoulders. But when she presses her knee in between your legs through your dress and her hands find their way to your chest, who are you to stop her?

Kazuha was nowhere near finished with you.

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comatosebunny09 · 7 months ago

Text

what’s done is done (and done again) | leon k.

summary: somehow, you figure you've been here before. and, somewhere far off, he knows you've been here before, too. genre(s): romance, drama, angst, modern au warning(s): female anatomy described, mentions of bodily fluids, dry humping, explicit language, profanity, praise kink, implied character death, mentions of decay and blood notes: it's a fuckin’ time loop. based off this post i made a little while ago. inspired by the time traveler's wife and happy death day. thank you for reading, darling! now playing: if you let me - alina baraz

You’re in the briefing room, fighting for your life.

Almost face-plant into your notebook a few times. Doesn’t help that it’s warm and dim, and you haven’t had your coffee.

Your supervisor decided it would be an excellent time to bore you all half to death as if you weren’t already constantly putting your lives on the line. Something about Operational Security violations running rampant throughout your organization.

Blah, blah, blah.

Of everything you’ve faced thus far, death by PowerPoint would be such a way to go.

“Long night?” bleeds in a voice from your right. Your savior.

You look at Leon, all wild-eyed, like you’ve been caught doing something nefarious. He smiles in reply, all boyish and unguarded. Watches you like you’ve said something funny or like he could just eat you up. Whatever the context, you enjoy the attention. You always do when it comes from your partner.

Your face begins to tingle with warmth. But you mask your embarrassment with a half-smile and an elbow to his rib.

“You would know,” you mouth back, careful not to alert your supervisor.

Leon smiles a little wider. Chuckles low and abrasive, leaning back in his chair with folded arms. Gives you a nice little view of the veins that live there and the muscle lurking beneath the cuffed sleeves of his shirt.

He catches you staring in his peripheral, and the smugness he radiates is palpable. No one’s the wiser when he grazes your leg with his under the table. Sets little goose pimples alight on your skin when he pitches himself forward to grip your quad.

You take to messing with some frayed edges of your notebook, tucking your goofy, lopsided smile within its pages. Mind suddenly colors with memories of last night. Labored breaths, sweat, heat, and your tongue coiled around his name.

Your body hums, and you pinch your thighs together to ward off the pleasant rush of endorphins between. He squeezes and winks, smile lines bracketing his mouth as he returns his attention to the mindless dribble of your boss.

What a long night, indeed.

“Dinner?” Leon simply asks over the blue light of your monitor.

It feels like more of a statement than a request. Like he knows you’d never deny him as he presses the lid of your laptop closed with a definitive click!

You sit back in an easy slouch in your rolling chair. Cross your arms, looking every bit of smug-read-annoyed, and you eye him warily.

“Only dinner?”

That grin is back. All dimpled and crinkly-eyed as he props himself against the oakwood of your desk. Bathed in the ethereal glow of the setting sun bleeding into your window, he laughs something guttural. You’re the cheekiest little shit when you wanna be.

“No promises,” he admits with a shrug. Exudes sex even without trying.

You regard him for a moment. Keep him on edge, though both of you already know the answer. Doesn’t mean you can’t make him squirm with the prospect of your potential rejection.

You clear your throat after a brief stare down. Feign indifference as you smooth out your sleeves and trousers.

“Your place or mine?”

Like you’d ever say no.

Your place.

It’s always your place, but you can’t complain. You live on the quieter side of town, tucked away from the cacophony of the city and your nosy-as-all-hell coworkers.

Besides, it’s all cozy inside. Decked out with mood lights and earth tones and enough plants to rival a greenhouse.

Leon likes it this way. How it distracts him from the bleakness of your jobs. The ever-looming premise of death and decay and corruption. So, you never bother to change it. It’s his little piece of heaven.

You’re his little piece of heaven.

Speaking of which—

“Stop it!” you half squeal, half giggle, spatula in one hand, a fistful of soft blonde in the other.

The sound of your collective merriment carries from the kitchen. Sepia-toned with smooth jazz leaking from the soundbar.

Leon’s chuckle vibrates your skin. Hands are a searing hot and homely pressure, perched on your waist. Lips blister kisses down the slope of your shoulder, and his hair tickles your neck.

“Can’t help myself. ‘sides, you had a little sauce on your neck. Had to—” Kiss. “—clean it up for you.” Suck.

“Bullshit.”

“Mmmm, honest,” Leon drawls in a way that makes your knees shake, and you feel the sound of it pooling in your loins.

He proceeds to do terribly distracting things with his mouth on your neck whilst his hands embark on a journey down your thighs. They bunch up the lace of your dress on their excursion, making way for his fingers to tiptoe between your legs, gripping meaty thigh until your flesh craters between.

“Leon.”

You huff out something between a laugh and a pleasured sigh. An eager hand instinctively curls around his nape, and you find yourself mindlessly grinding against him. Eyes shutter closed, head falls back into the pocket of his shoulder. Around a smile, you breathe,

“I worked really hard on this. You don’t let me finish, I’ll kick your ass.”

That doesn’t deter him. Not in the slightest. Never does, and he snickers something sinister. Eases his grip on your thighs northward until the knuckles of his thumbs graze the seat of your panties. You shiver. Almost say, fuck dinner.

“Thought you were on the menu.”

You snort, gripping the counter’s edge for leverage and shoving back. Leon stumbles a few steps away, all blown wide pupils and a peachy color dusting his cheeks. Looks at you like a kicked puppy. That wobbly lip nearly does it for you.

“Later,” you promise.

Leon has a sweet tooth. You always give him dessert.

It’s a mire of sounds.

Your voice, high and light. Leon’s, deep and abrasive. Your collective laughter and pleasured sighs intermingle in your bedroom whilst music croons in the background.

He’s got you where he wants you. Straddling his lap on your bed like a good girl, swathed in the subtle moon glow of the room. Has his lips latched onto your throat and his hands eagerly mapping out the contours of your body.

Your dress is bunched around your hips. Straps spilling down your arms, head thrown back, lids shuttered. He has this way of whittling you down to incoherencies like no one ever has.

Who would’ve thought your goofy little Leon could be such a sex symbol?

He grips your waist, encouraging you to grind against him. Hard and heavy, and he radiates heat through the confines of his slacks. He feels so good and big, and you might just cum from the sensation alone. From the proximity. From the dangerous gravel of his voice as he murmurs every level of filth into your ear.

So good for me.

Already wet, and I haven’t even taken your panties off.

Naughty baby.

You might cum before I even get it inside.

You would fully surrender yourself to him—to his palms kneading your breasts and the calluses of his thumbs scraping pleasantly over your nipples—if not for a series of buzzing sounds emanating from your nightstand.

Again.

“God dammit,” you sigh, trying to catch your breath.

“Fuck that,” Leon husks, licking up the column of your throat. Desperation wades beneath the surface of his tone. Possessiveness. Desire. “Fuck the phone. I want you. Need you.”

It’s hard to argue when he gazes at you like that, with hooded eyes and furled lashes. And he’s drunk off the feel of you. Begging. Dipping his head down to close his lips around your pebbled nipple, and it’s like you’ve been struck by white lightning.

“Fuh-huck!”

He groans against your tit in reply, matching the undulation of your hips with a roll of his own. You cling to him for dear life, fingers buried in his hair, pussy leaking and swollen against the seam of his trousers, mouth parted, and lips shining with spit.

Try as you might to ignore it, the insistent humming of your phone leaks through the static of your brain.

“Fuck, Leon, I gotta…I gotta take this,” you gasp, scrambling for the nightstand. Whoever’s calling doesn’t know the meaning of peace.

Leon doesn’t relent. Has a mouthful of tit, flittering his tongue over your nip and eyeing you wantonly and fucking groaning like you’re the tastiest morsel to ever grace his tongue.

A familiar voice bleeds through the receiver as you bite your lips against a whine.

“Hey!” trills your coworker, all shrill and uncomfortably cheery despite the hour. Cheryl from HR. You should’ve known.

Play it cool. Though it’s exceedingly difficult with the object of your desires fucking you through your clothes.

“Hey. What’s up?”

“Girl, I think I left my purse in your car.”

You blanch.

You picked her up for lunch. Of course, she left it.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Think my ID’s in there. Can’t get into the office in the morning without it. You know they’re tired of me losing that thing.” Sigh.

A groan swells in your chest. You’re at odds with yourself. Slap a hand over your forehead, cursing whatever higher being decided to bless and punish you tonight. “I’ll go check the car,” you relent. Leon releases a chagrined sound in the background. Pins you with incredulous eyes as he releases your tit from his mouth with a wet pop!

Fitfully, you wrestle yourself free from Leon’s arms. Giggle as you stumble off the bed, and Leon lunges for you. You easily dodge, tiptoeing towards the entrance of your bedroom. Give him a placating smile halfway through the threshold, silently promising to finish what you’ve started once you’re done.

Hurry back, he mouths around a pout. Makes little grabby hands at you, and the furrow of his brows almost makes you clamber back onto his lap. But you’re a Good Samaritan. Sometimes. And you’ll never hear the end of it if you don’t find Cheryl’s purse.

Soundlessly, you whisk through your home towards the garage after fixing your dress. Ease into the driver seat of your car, the door slamming shut behind. You locate her purse on the passenger side floor with laser precision. Hard not to see it when it’s gaudy and pink like that.

You rummage through it, mindful of its contents. Find her ID soon after, turning over the cool plastic in your hand to confirm.

“It’s in here.”

She releases a weighted sigh on the other end of the phone.

“I can meet you at the front gate in the morning to give it to you.”

“Girl, thank you! You’re a lifesaver!”

You tamp down a smile. Tuck your bashfulness into your shoulder. Cheryl’s infectiously chipper. A nice change of pace to the depressing humdrum of your profession.

“Yeah, yeah. See you in the morning.”

“See ya!”

When she hangs up, you ease her purse into your glove box. Nestle it between pistol mags and your badge for safekeeping.

You glance at your phone. Squint against its brilliance, and it’s a quarter to midnight. Fuck. Another late night.

A quiet smile crests over your lips when you catch sight of your home screen. Of course, it would be Leon. With an adorably cheesy dog filter, and he’s all baggy-eyed and uncharacteristically happy on the screen. You’ve gotta get back to him. Left him all hard and leaking in your bed.

So, you reach for the crisp door handle, mind abuzz with thoughts of Leon, Leon, Leon.

But then, there’s suddenly an explosion of colors. Yellow and orange seeping into red. A sound that’s deafening and robs you of all thought. White hot pain wading over your skin. And then…

Well, then, there is nothing.

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