#I hope that this book will help them to change their minds

[exilethegame]

i apologize in advance if this is too long and rambling lol. i just need to make you aware of the moral quandary i’ve found swimming around in my head all day. firstly, your book is amazing. i don’t think ive seen a writer capture my attention and also rip my heart into pieces so throughly (although, I, the Forgotten One is maybe tied with yours in my mind).

so, trystan and syfyn.

IRL i consider anyone who sits by as atrocities happen to be completely complicit and (sometimes) as equally as guilty as the perpetrator. your story makes my head spin as this is a stance i take very strongly and i struggle with hating syfyn and trystan. on one hand, my MC does hate them for things they’ve done (breaking his arm, holding him down while people essentially experiment on him, and even not really doing anything after finding out what happened to MC and learning that the queen is working with the “enemy”). other times, my MC can’t hate them for being a victim of circumstance, just as MC himself was (and is). my MC sees them for who they used to be, how their circumstances have shaped them, and how they may be punished for defying the crown but also can’t help but feel a personal and… maybe political betrayal? my MC, and me by extension, have been grappling with a couple questions: at what point does being a victim of circumstance no longer absolve someone of guilt? how many horrible things must someone do before their allies see that something must change? at what point does someone become just as guilty as the perpetrator because they refused to lift a finger either way? is it wrong to hate someone as a whole because of circumstances that, up to a certain point, were beyond their control? is it wrong to hate someone that follows a tyrant because they fear for their safety? what if it’s all they’ve ever known and they have no clear path forward without their leader?

i hope all of that made sense and don’t seem like the ramblings of a lunatic lol. i’m not very intellectual but these are just some things i’ve been thinking about as i gave your story another read last night and i was bursting at the seams to share my thoughts. like i said before, your story is beautiful. tragically beautiful, perhaps? i’m wishing you the best of luck in your work and personal life! and thank you so much for sharing this story with us; we don’t deserve it, but we will try to.

(also sorry if i misspelled trystan lol)

Ah no don't apologize!! I love discussions like this re. the characters, especially because pretty much all of them are morally questionable to one degree or another. It always makes me happy to hear when the game has made people start to think and worry about bigger moral questions like this :)

I think both Syfyn and Trystan definitely are intended to make that question be asked. And the game won't push a particular agenda either way re. if the Commander forgives/doesn't forgive, blames them/finds them to be victims, etc.

Of course, something I do think is fun that plenty of characters are wondering this very same question about MC, and the role they used to fulfill for Plaithus vs. what they are now, post-exile... 👀

Thank you so much for the kind words :)

[cherrycheolkat]

• hoodies and candy

feat. kim mingyu & choi seungcheol •

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹I ˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

pairing: kim mingyu x f!reader x choi seungcheol

word count: 4.6k

genre: fluff, angst, f2l, friendship, college au, study buddy au, soccer player!mingyu , clumsy!mingyu, cute!mingyu, soccer player!seungcheol, implied poly

summary: mingyu left his hoodie at y/n's after studying until he passed out - he doesn't know why y/n is wearing it and refusing to give it back, especially when he knows she just took pity on him and his horrible grades and is basically tutoring him through his econ class - maybe if he hadn't been a jerk the year before and blown up everything between them, but here they are, and he really just wants his hoodie back

warnings: explicit language, mentions of anxiety, sexually suggestive situations, drinking, implied poly relationship (throuple)

a/n: this changed as I wrote it, there should probably be a part 2 explaining seungcheol x reader…and maybe a part 3 were there’s some resolve..but this is what i have rn

♡ if you would like to be tagged in my upcoming posts, let me know

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

Mingyu sat up suddenly, his heart racing as he blinked sleep from his eyes because where was he, he wondered - he stared around the neat apartment trying to gather his bearings. His mouth was dry and tasted a bit gross - he knew he definitely wasn’t at home. He was on a couch though and there was a coffee table close by covered in textbooks. It clicked in his mind that he had been studying with y/n - fuck, he had been studying with y/n and had passed out - that was his best guess of the situation. 

Shit, he thought, he had been studying with y/n the night before and had been tired from weeks of insomnia and morning practices and of all the fucking places, he blinked slowly and was amazed that she hadn’t thrown water on him and kicked him out. 

He attempted to quietly grab all of his books and notes and laptop - if he had managed to go unnoticed for this long, he wanted it to stay this way. The last thing he needed was for her to stop helping him study for econ and his random ass poly sci class. 

She was literally the only reason he was making it through either of those classes. He blinked hard, trying to focus on which notes were his. He knew this was a cluster fuck, and god forbid she somehow didn’t know he was still there. He stopped and rubbed his face again before checking one more time that he had gotten his things and left everything else undisturbed.

He glanced around, hoping that she wasn’t like actually standing just out of view watching him make an ass of himself. The situation might be a bit better if he didn’t have the crush that he had - the one that he pretended he didn’t have because if he admitted it then all his teammates and friends would be right about what a fuck up he was - that he had fucked up everything with y/n almost immediately. 

He shook his head, this was not the time to dwell on that thought, he needed to pull himself together and stop mentally rehashing the same things. It had been like more than a year anyway, and he was lucky that she was even willing to talk to him. But after the first econ exam grades posted, he had swallowed his worries and asked for her help.

It hadn’t been easy either - she was busy packing up, talking to her seatmate, who also seemed to know what was going on and before he could even say anything, she had glanced up.

She had looked him over for a split second, “Hey, Gyu,” she leaned on the table with her face resting in her hand like she just knew he was going to ask something.

He could only hope that he didn’t flush the brightest shade of red, “Hey, uh,” he hated being nervous and stamming or speaking too fast, “can I talk to you?” he asked quietly, not wanting to announce to everyone that he was absolutely sucking ass in this class. 

She quirked an eyebrow at him but nodded, “Yeah, why not - I’m in a good mood,” he bit his lip wishing that that was some cryptic phrase, but he knew it wasn’t. The last time they had talked hadn’t been good and it had been late the previous fall when they met - and now he was talking to her after another fall semester had passed. Still, he nodded, he was fine with whatever she said.

He waited for her to grab her bag and wave to her friend who gave Mingyu a less than kind once over before glancing back at her with a skeptical look. Regardless, she turned back to him, “Come on then, I need to grab some coffee, assuming that works for you?” she asked, voice a bit sharp.

He nodded and tagged along as she crossed the lecture hall in easy, long strides. He wondered how it escaped him that she was also tall - not his height, but tall. And from behind he noticed the little wispy hairs that had escaped her ponytail and gently touched her neck. He chewed his lip lightly wondering how he had managed to tell her he wasn’t interested. But he had - he had looked at her and said he wasn’t into long term things, and they hadn’t talked after that. 

He could see the scene all too well in his memory - the way her easy smile had dropped away, and her face had hardened instead - the way she had nodded, and said ‘oh’. He regretted it the moment he had said it, but he had seen her phone when she had gone to the bathroom. He hadn’t meant to, but he had seen all the texts from some other guy asking her where she was - that he missed her. Mingyu could only guess that he was some rebound fuck, at best. It had hurt because they had gone out a few times, and he had been excited for her to stay over because his roommate was out of town. He had loved being alone with her and the way they had made out - he had thought maybe it was serious. 

He had just felt so dumb then, lying back on his bed, feeling her warmth slowly dissipating from the spot next to him - he felt dumb and upset, not really angry. She was out of his league to begin with. He knew that he was a bit of a dork, like naturally - dorky and clumsy. And she was beautiful and smart. He knew it was better if he just made up something and ended it before he really got carried away with his own happy thoughts of her. 

Besides, when she inevitably got back together with this other guy, she would just drop him anyway. So he was really just doing them both a favor by ending things where there were. He was surprised by her though, the way she had stared at him for a moment - the way she had looked like she wanted to say a lot more than she did - but she had just shaken her head and muttered something to herself as she got dressed and walked out of his room. 

He stayed in the rest of the weekend, feeling like absolute shit. Hoping that somehow it was her texting him every time his phone went off because maybe she would call his bluff and - he had stopped his thoughts there and decided he just needed to accept that he wasn’t for her - some guy named ‘Soonie’ was though. 

He moped around during his holiday break too, and even for a few days when the spring semester started, but then soccer practice had started in earnest and took up all of his brain power. The games had started in the fall, but the intense games were set for spring. The weird thing was, he had been certain that he had seen her at some of the games. He knew there wasn’t a ‘Soonie’ on the team though, so he had never really figured that part out, and he tried not to dwell on it.

But now he had successfully made it out of her apartment and back to his own to shower. He really hoped that she somehow hadn’t noticed him sleeping in her living room, but he knew that was ridiculously unlikely, which meant that she had just let him sleep there. He pressed his forehead against the cool tile remembering one terrible fact - he had woken up with a blanket. She knew, he thought, of course she knew, she had given him a blanket to sleep with - fuck - he was fucked, that was the only conclusion. And he had to show up to class too, he rolled his eyes at the thought.

He made it to class just in time - right as the professor was closing the door. He rushed to his seat and only after he was settled did he dare to glance over at her - she wasn’t paying attention. She was busy taking notes, but he noticed what she was wearing. He choked on air, coughing and making a few people stare for a moment, but he didn’t care, y/n was wearing his hoodie.

It took him a moment to regain his composure, or what was left of it because his mind was whirring - why was she wearing his hoodie, he wondered. He couldn’t pay attention during class. And when there was a break, he started after her, planning to ask for it back, he guessed - he didn’t know what his fucking plan was. But she had already left the room. He whined quietly, feeling foolish and exposed.

But when he turned around her seatmate was there, “Looking for something?” he asked, voice acidic.

Mingyu started to shake his head but the seatmate suddenly held up his phone and it was a picture of Mingyu asleep on her couch - he swallowed hard and reached for the phone, only for the guy to yank it away.

He smiled, “You’re lucky she still thinks you’re cute - I told her to kick you out, like any other trash,” he finished and turned to walk away.

Mingyu felt like he had been smacked - some random guy was calling him ‘trash’ and he had Mingyu’s photo - he was suddenly feeling all his nerves hit at once. He tried to breathe through the anxiety, even though he could feel his heart pounding. He jumped when he felt someone touch his arm - her.

He couldn’t even make eye contact. He could feel all the panic rising and washing over him like a wave. He didn’t exactly know what happened next, but he knew he was suddenly in the bathroom dry heaving.

He didn’t care about his grades anymore. He had only made it back to his room because Seungcheol had shown up with his inhaler. And he had gone into Mingyu’s class and collected his bag, saving Mingyu the immediate embarrassment of returning to class.

He found himself lying on his couch, the tv playing lightly in the background while Seungcheol played some game. Mingyu knew Seungcheol was there to keep him company and make sure he didn’t lose it again. He didn’t ask what was wrong or what happened. He just stayed close and ordered food for them.

It was the next morning before Mingyu even realized he didn’t have his phone. He heard his alarm and immediate grumbling from Seungcheol as he turned it off. Mingyu imagined going to grab his phone, but he had the annoying feeling that that would cost him something - probably an explanation. He decided he was okay without it.

He curled into himself and went back to sleep, only waking up again when Seungcheol woke him, “Seriously, please fucking answer her - she’s driving me insane,” he dropped Mingyu’s phone onto his stomach.

Mingyu groaned and rolled over, not sure who “her” was. He vaguely wondered if maybe it was his Mom or something.

He didn’t think about it again until that night, when he went to eat with Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Joshua.

He had slept most of the day. And according to Joshua, he was required to shower and change clothes if he was going out with them - he couldn’t look “depressed and shit” because it was “killing the vibes.” He didn’t mind cleaning up, but he sometimes found Joshua’s bluntness annoying.

He showered and changed into loose fitting black pants and a black tee. He pulled on his high tops and a jean jacket as he walked outside to meet the other guys. He was quiet as they walked along, barely speaking until they were in the restaurant and he had to place his order for food and a drink.

He still felt like shit, so he started with beer. He had had several when he felt his phone buzzing. He had been ignoring it since Seungcheol gave it to him. But now it wasn’t a text, it was the call screen. He practically threw it off the table trying to silence it completely.

When he glanced up, he realized Seungcheol was watching him, “Did you ever answer?” He asked in that nonchalant way he had.

Mingyu knew him well enough to know he was interested, and he had probably told Jeonghan and Joshua since both were suddenly very quiet - they were all waiting.

He shrugged, “I’m not in the mood,” he imagined he sounded serious.

But that idea was quickly shattered as Joshua finally took over, “So what happened anyway?” He sipped his drink like it was the most normal question.

Mingyu rolled his eyes, “I’m sure you already know,” he glanced at Seungcheol, knowing he was a traitor.

Jeonghan spoke up, “No, actually, none of us know why you had a panic attack in the middle of your class,” he spoke softly - for once he didn’t appear to be teasing.

Joshua coughed, “Well, that’s not exactly true,” and he unlocked his phone to show a group chat that included the picture Mingyu had seen the day before - him falling asleep at y/n’s. There he was slumped over, cheek pressed to his textbook, and a dark green blanket tossed over him.

He glanced quickly and noticed the sender was ‘Soonie’, with the message “did you actually say he’s cute.” Mingyu saw the message underneath from y/n saying “yes, he’s cute - what about it???” and asking if she should wake him. Apparently, no one thought she should, at least in the gc.

Again, Mingyu just shrugged, “She’s helping me with econ. I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he huffed.

Joshua sighed, “You have to know it’s not the falling asleep part,” he glanced at Mingyu in a judgmental way, “It’s what happened in your class, when you saw her and uhm absolutely lost your shit,” he smiled sweetly as he said the last part.

Mingyu rolled his eyes, “Yeah, well I wasn’t expecting to have someone shove that photo in my face and tell me how she should have kicked me out, okay?” He knew he was talking way too fast, “and I wasn’t expecting her to come to class wearing my hoodie either - I just wanted to ask for it back,” he went back to sipping his drink.

Seungcheol was still watching him, “She’s been texting since your class yesterday - I had to force you to take your phone because I couldn’t handle any more texts asking if you’re okay or not,” he swirled his drink, avoiding eye contact as he added fuel to the fire.

Mingyu was quick, “You could have just answered that I was fine,” he shot back.

Seungcheol snorted, “I’m not answering the texts you want to avoid, especially from y/n,” he finished.

“What does that mean? Especially from y/n,” he quipped back, feeling insulted for some reason.

He saw the collective eye rolling from the other three, but it was Joshua who responded, “Because we all know something happened between you two - you were all cute and disgustingly sweet and then, suddenly, out of nowhere, even mentioning you around her was like setting off a bomb,” he was staring at Mingyu as he spoke.

“I don’t think we were all that cute” —

Joshua and Jeonghan cut him off with groans, talking over one another to tell Mingyu just how cute and gross he and y/n had been the year before.

The thing that made it through clearly was the reminder that before anything, Mingyu had the habit of giving y/n back hugs at parties. He knew they were notorious for being beer pong partners, but even if they were just waiting to play, he had the habit of pulling her close against him.

He shook his head, “It wasn’t like that,” he didn’t care what history they were throwing at him.

Joshua laughed, “Dude, we all watched you - you were like attached,” he laughed again, “just admit you’re down that bad, it’s not the end of the world - I mean, she’s hot, either admit you’re still into her or say you’re over her so at least Seungcheol can take a shot,” he giggled softly.

Mingyu was quick to look at Seungcheol - he could feel the heat come into his cheeks.

Seungcheol’s eyes widened, “Dude!” He was fast to call Joshua out, “I’ve literally never said I’m into her,” he had the look of pre-rage-Seungcheol - his eyes were wide and his normal cuteness was gone. He was glaring daggers at Joshua.

“You’ve never really had to say it though, have you?” Jeonghan asked in a whisper, giggling with Joshua.

Mingyu felt his mouth go all dry at once. It had never crossed his mind that anyone else was into her, well not any of his friends at least. But it suddenly made sense why she would have come to some of their soccer games. She was into Seungcheol.

Mingyu blinked slowly, and nodded, “Yeah, look I’m going to head home,” he knew he sounded weird. But it didn’t matter.

He was up and out the door before any of them could say anything. He was almost out of earshot when he heard Seungcheol’s sudden outburst of “why the fuck would you tell him that?” He had left money on the table. He didn’t care what happened.

He planned to go home, but there was a text that caught his eye. Caroline. They had a bunch of classes together. They talked at parties. She was hot. Seungcheol could have y/n all to himself, and Mingyu could move on.

[caro 21:07]

hey come save me from boring party talk plzzzzzzz

He nodded to himself. Yes, a distraction was what he needed. He silently thanked her as he typed a fast response.

[mingyu 21:08]

sure but where am I going??

She sent him the address. He asked the driver to change his destination.

He was glad he had showered and made a small effort to get dressed. The party was loud. But he found Caroline easily enough - she was hard to miss if he were honest. She was quick to hug him, pressing close to thank him for showing up. He just nodded, not in the mood to yell over music and other voices.

She wound quickly through various rooms before going upstairs. He almost pulled back, but then again, he wondered why he bothered - he wasn’t seeing anyone.

She pulled him along to a door, but it was odd when she knocked on the door. He watched the door crack open and heard the soft, “Caro, I’m not really in the mood,” from inside.

Caro leaned against the door to say something in a hushed tone. Mingyu thought about leaving, but he felt the tight grip on his arm. He was maybe a bit slow in realizing Caroline had no intention of letting him slip away without a good reason, looking at her hand, he could only assume the acceptable reason was maybe the house being on fire.

He found himself being pushed through the doorway, “Look, you two need to chat for like ten minutes at the very least and if that’s too much, then okay, fine - you’re maybe the most stubborn people to exist,” she had shoved Mingyu inside the room and closed the door by the time she finished her sentence.

He glanced to see he was in a bedroom, not one he knew. And there was y/n sitting on the floor. He was almost annoyed.

She was dressed for the party. She was always cute, but he liked her tendency towards jeans and slightly boyish tops that she managed to make very girlie - like the little collared sweater she was wearing and the fact that he could see through the thin knit to the lace bralette beneath.

She glanced at him for a moment and sighed, “I guess you didn’t die,” she rolled her eyes and looked anywhere but at him.

He bit the inside of his cheek, knowing he kind of deserved a bit of attitude. He sat down across from her and swallowed, waiting for her to at least look at him. He was glad he at least had a beer.

She glanced his way after a few moments of quiet. She watched him for a minute or two, and then she moved all at once to be in his lap. Her arms encircled his neck. He couldn’t help but breathe in the scent he had been missing. His heart immediately beat faster.

He felt her fingertip trace against his lower lip, “What did I do?” Her voice was so soft.

He stared for a moment, “I’m just a rebound,” he saw the immediate confusion on her face.

She almost laughed, “Rebound from who?”

He gently loosened her hands from his neck, “Soonie,” he felt like it was obvious.

“Soonyoung?” She sounded immediately baffled, “What are you talking about?”

“I saw his texts to you - ‘babe i miss you - you know i’m jealous - come home,” he mimicked.

She laughed, and immediately clamped a hand over her mouth, “Holy shit, seriously - that’s why you went all ‘I don’t like long term’ on me?”

She was staring at him. He flushed, “It seems like a real reason to me,” he couldn’t understand why he felt dumb.

She glanced around for a moment like she was searching for the words she needed, “Gyu,” she paused, “Soonie is - Soonie and me?” She shook her head, “we would both rather die than, oh my god, that’s just how we talk!” She had grabbed his forearms, “it is not whatever you thought, okay - I swear,” she let go of him to cross herself for emphasis.

He flushed slightly, “Then who is he?”

“A close friend - like since childhood friend - he sits next to me in econ,” she waited for a moment, “trust me, it’s impossible for me to be his type,” she looked almost on the verge of tears.

Mingyu thought of the guy who seemed to hate him for no reason, “So a childhood friend who seems to absolutely hate me” —

She cut in, “Seriously, there’s nothing between us - we would literally kill each other,” she sounded intense now.

He shrugged, “Sounds like you’re just waiting to get together,” he wasn’t in the mood.

She stared at him for a long moment, “Trust me, there’s no waiting around for one another - we aren’t like that, like for one it would make things so weird since we’re step-siblings,” she made a terrible face, “not to mention it’s literally posted on our old school’s website where we got into a fight during a debate club meeting - they had to drag us off stage,” she was less imploring, but still close, watching him as he absorbed what she was saying.

Mingyu wasn’t sure what to think. He believed her. He would have probably believed her without the explanation, if he were honest. But it didn’t change the way he felt. It didn’t change the sinking feeling in his stomach that told him he had wasted time.

She stared at him, waiting. The quiet stretched out between them. She sighed, “Do you want me to call him? You can see pictures of our family?” She offered before sighing and crossing her arms. She looked defeated.

He was surprised when she suddenly stood up, “Okay, anyway, so I’ll see you around.”

He didn’t know what to say. He had carried the thought around for so long. He was going to come upstairs with someone else. He felt stuck.

He ran a hand through his hair, before glancing back, “Seungcheol likes you - he’s just been waiting around to figure out what’s wrong with me, I guess.”

He couldn’t see her face, “Ahah, uhm,” he could hear the pause, “thanks I guess,” he could hear the small tremble in her voice.

He closed his eyes, knowing what he wanted to do. But somehow he couldn’t make himself move. Instead, he silently wished for her to come back - he pleaded mentally for her to come back. He wanted to feel her arms around his neck again.

And then he heard himself, the deep, shaking sigh. He was sure she had slipped out the door and was already downstairs. He turned around to see her still standing, her back against the door.

She watched him, “Do you really want me to just leave?” She asked softly.

He shrugged.

She walked back to and gave him a small shove, “I’m here with you, and I’ve been waiting around, trying to to figure out what I did,” she whispered.

He shook his head, “You didn’t do anything, okay?” He was exhausted, “It’s my fault - I fucked everything up, and now I’m sitting here, knowing that I fucked everything up even more than I originally thought, okay? It’s even worse,” he pulled his knees close and hid his face.

He heard her scoff, “Do you think I would have even helped you if things were so impossible between us?”

He didn’t answer.

He felt her hand lightly on his head - she ran her fingers through his hair, “Look, come downstairs with me - be my beer pong partner and hug me close like you normally would, okay? Think of it as a re-do. We can re-do that night and the day after and leave out the misunderstanding - just pretend it’s not part of our timeline,” she whispered, pulling his hair gently.

He looked up at her. She reached down, smoothing his bangs, “Please,” she offered. He felt himself nodding. He wanted nothing more than to wipe away all the time he hadn’t been with her.

xx

He woke up the next morning wrapped around her. He pressed close, nuzzling her neck, kissing the sensitive, exposed skin. She was sleeping in his tshirt and her underwear.

He imagined dipping his hand down, under the delicate fabric of her panties to tease her clit and her pussy. But he heard the soft snore, the one that wasn’t from her. It was the one from Seungcheol.

Mingyu was curled around y/n, and y/n was curled around Seungcheol.

Mingyu chewed his lip lightly, knowing it wasn’t worth it to upset the balance right now. Especially when he barely wanted to acknowledge there was a balance to maintain. He pressed closer to her, knowing now that she hadn’t needed him to tell her anything about how Seungcheol felt - she knew perfectly well. He sighed gently, wondering how he had set this all in motion.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹I ˚ .𖥔 ݁ ִ ࣪⚝₊ ⊹˚ .𖥔 ݁

a/n: i started writing this last year and just found it in my drafts - i think i originally imagined this as a sick fic but tbh it went off the rails in a not fun way, and it still maybe does go off the rails, but idk gyucheol x reader seems fun so why not

tell me if you want the seungcheol pov..better! should they be rivals??? or throuple sandwich..or throuple who doesn’t acknowledge it - y/n just yk makes plans with them equally - they’re adults - no one is jealous ;-;

♡ kat

[livingdeadmlm]

You Bring Me Closer to God pt5

Pronouns: The reader is referred to as a man. 

Physical Sex: AMAB. 

How far are things going?: These are the sex dreams the men are having about the priest reader!!

Warnings: Praise kink (Kiernan), Degradation kink (Kieran), Oral fixation (Dutch), Thigh fucking (Charles), rimming (Arthur), oral sex (Arthur), wet dreams (All). Riding (Hosea,Javier)

Outline: After hearing rumors about who you used to be the men all have odd dreams about the rumors.

What inspired me to write this is: That awful preist romance book I got.

Other: This is a harem romance! so all these dreams did happen and I will refer to them in the future!!

Part 1 2 3 4

Kieran was working in a stable he didn’t recognize. Brushing a horse, he also did not recognize it at first glance. The scent of hay was strong in his mind as a light breeze rolled in. Brushing the horse's fur in front of him, he looked closer and recognized the slight patterns; it was your horse! A beautiful creature he’d admire when walking past it. He’s never taken care of it before. Though he had often thought about offering to help care for it, his nerves seemed to tighten around him like a vice grip whenever you were around, leaving him speechless.

Your horse stood calmly, enjoying the comforting strokes of the brush. Soft neighs filled the stable as the animal leaned into Kieran’s touch, encouraging him to continue. A gentle smile crept across Kieran's face as the horse nuzzled affectionately against his hands, seeking more attention.

Just then, your voice broke through his moment of tranquility. “Hey there, stable boy!” enunciating your words, you appeared in the doorway, a playful smirk lighting up your face as you leaned casually against the wooden post that separated you from the pen.

Kieran's heart raced at the sound of your teasing tone. He chuckled nervously, trying to maintain his composure. “Oh! Hi there, Father (Name)! Just, uh, checking up on (Horse Name) here!” Stable boy? You’d never call him that. You were always so polite to him. It’s what he cherished most about being around you.

“Not causing any trouble, I hope. He’s usually such a good boy,” you said, extending a hand towards the horse, who affectionately pressed his head against your palm.

“Uh, no! He’s been very nice this whole time—really! Very comfortable with brushing,” Kieran replied, attempting to sound more at ease as he softly patted the horse’s flank. Just then, the gate clicked open, and you entered the pen with a grace that took him by surprise. Instinctively, Kieran shifted slightly behind the horse.

You had never been so assertive with him before, and the sudden change left him flustered and intrigued. Conflicting emotions swirled within him as he tried to gauge your intentions, and his heart fluttered at the new way you were treating him.

“What about you, stable boy? Have you been behaving like a good boy?” Your voice pierced the air, cutting through the thick tension around him. Kieran's heart raced, and he felt the telltale beads of sweat form on his palms.

“No! Uh, um, I mean, yes? I, I think I’ve been well-behaved!” You waved your hand dismissively as you shooed your horse out of the pen, its hooves softly clattering on the ground. Kieran watched, feeling oddly vulnerable now that he couldn’t hide behind the sturdy figure of the horse.

As you approached, he felt exposed under your gaze, as if you could see right through his clothes, though his skin past his bones to his soul. Your eyes seemed to devour him, detailing every quirk and tremor of his being, sending a shiver down his spine.

“Ohh, that makes me so happy to hear,” you said sweetly, your hand reaching out to glide through his dark hair with an almost electric gentleness. The soothing sensation of your fingers weaving through his strands sent a wave of warmth through him, and without thinking, a soft whine slipped from his lips; he couldn’t hold it in anymore. He leaned into your hand, instinctively closing his eyes to absorb the calming strokes fully. Time seemed to stretch, the world around him fading as he finally surrendered to the moment.

“Hm? What’s this, stable boy? Not trying to steal, are you?” Your fingers tightened in his hair, a firm grip that jolted him back to reality. Kieran's eyes flew open wide with surprise, and he followed your accusatory point right to his erection.

“I ain’t stealing, Father (Name), honest!” Panic tinged his voice; shaky and breathless, he was panting. He didn’t want you angry at him, not at all! The thought of disappointing you was unbearable.

“What’s this then, huh?” Your finger light ran over his erection, causing it to jump slightly. “It’s- it’s nothin’!! I promise I ain’t stealing!” Your eyes squinted at Kieran; he was practically shaking in your hands, eyes blown out wide but not trying to leave your hold.

You scoffed, “Pull ‘em down then; an innocent man will have nothing to hide.” Your grip on his hair stayed the same, and his face only got more red and heated.

Finally dropping the horse brush, shaking hands, he undid his trousers. Kieran wanted to curse at himself for how fast he was to listen to you. His instincts told him to get away, but he knew you wouldn’t hurt him. At least he liked to think you wouldn’t. It was against your nature.

His union suit didn’t do much to hide his hard-on. His pants pooled around his ankles. Your eyes burned into your skin, taking in the sight.

“Do you mind?” Your fingers played with the buttons of his union suit. He whined again, shaking his head no, his blue eyes glued to the movement of your hand as you undid each button. With every pop, the fabric parted slightly, revealing hints of skin beneath

His cock sprung out, buttons no longer holding it in. The hand holding his hair softened at the same time your expression did.

“Aww, just look at that,” you said, a gentle smile across your face. “I knew you weren't lying to me, Kieran. You’re such a good and sweet boy.” Your voice was soft and reassuring as you leaned in to kiss his forehead, your fingers tenderly caressing his hair, soothing him with your touch.

As you pressed another kiss to his cheek, you felt the warmth of his skin grow even hotter beneath your lips, a sign of the emotions swirling within him. Kieran’s eyes reflected a mix of confusion and longing. He was grappling with the tenderness you showed him; it felt unfamiliar yet comforting.

Your gentle affection contrasted with the sharpness of your earlier words, leaving him feeling vulnerable and a bit breathless. His knees felt weak as if he were standing on uncertain ground.

Your hand left his hair, “how about a reward? For being such a good and loyal stable boy?” you cooed, fingers ghosted over his weeping cock, a small pearl forming over the slit.

Kieran nodded quickly, feeling so much more sensitive than ever before. Finally wrapping your hand around his hard-on, Kieran threw his head back, slightly stumbling backward into a stack of hay bales. You giggled and pressed his back into the hay, following his staggered movements.

Your touch felt like heaven to him as you kissed his cheek again. Your hand took a slow pace, and with each pass of your hand, his mind grew more and more fuzzy. Your words felt more like you again, much softer and kinder to him.

Your kisses reached his neck with short licks in between, leaving him in a brain fog; how did you know how to do this? Kieran's hand reaches for your shoulder for support, finding it hard to hold himself up as time passes. Your hand speeds up,

Your hand was the softest thing he had ever felt, second only to your kiss on his lips. It felt like he was rutting into a cloud with each twitch of his hips. Each whine and whimper caused his mouth to open slightly, allowing your tongue to slip in. The brush of his beard against your chin was faint. Your hand changed positions taking the head of his cock in your hand to concentrate more on the tip, bullying the much more sensitive area. It practically knocked the wind from his chest as his stomach tightened. “Please! Father (Name)! I can’t hold on much longer!” Your breath was light against his own; you were so collected, the lone thing keeping Kieran up.

His face was one of pure bliss; only moans left his mouth as he spilled against your hand. His vision was blurry from tears, and he tried to take in the sight before stirring awake.

He audibly groaned, looking at the scout fire, which was mostly out by now, and the sun had not touched the sky yet. Panting, Kieran sat up, embarrassed by such a dream at his age. Looking over the camp, he noticed Hosea and Dutch also awake. They were never up so early. He knew Charles Arthur and Javier had to go off on some mission very early, but they seemed much more restless than normal, and they began to head out.

Dutch stood at the back of the crowded church, his gaze drifting through the sea of faces. The line for communion was quick, each second shorter than the last. In front of him, Molly stood with a slight sway to the organ's rhythm, her movements drawing his attention, though it didn't last as he couldn't quite understand why. He wasn't the religious type.

He'd never felt the need for communion or the body and blood of Christ. So why was he here?

But then the line inched forward, and with it, his pulse quickened. And there you were.

You weren't entirely in focus at first—his mind flickering between the present you and the photo of you at 22 when a playful smirk had danced across your lips as you poured wine into Molly's mouth. What stayed with him the most was how your eyes never left his, even as you'd served her. The smoke from his cigar flowed from his lips into the air around him, the smoke not hotter than the gaze you had, pulling him in.

He felt a jealous bubble in his chest as Molly bowed her head, whispering a small “Amen,” hands folded and walked away. Sure, the two haven’t shared a bed since Colter, but damn it, she was still his.

Dutch was next, and your smile only got wider, eyes shifting.

Closing your eyes when taking the wafer was customary, but your eyes stayed open. Dutch looked around, and everyone seemed to have their eyes closed, heads ducked in prayer, except for the two of you. Dutch took the cigar from his lips, holding it in his dominant hand.

Dutch was reluctant to close his eyes, his heart pounding, squeezing them shut; he opened his mouth. He couldn't stand to look in your eyes any longer. The dry taste of the communion wafer touched his tongue, but his fingers stayed. Daring to open an eye, your face hovered inches away from Dutch.

“No smoking in church, Mister Van Der Linde,” you whispered, eyes so deep pulling him in, rooting his legs to the spot.

He couldn't move, not as your hand reached for a cigar or when the wafer had long dissolved, and the only thing he could taste was you.

“If you need something between your lips that bad.” you purred, voice as smooth as silk as you took the cigar from his hand, bringing it to your lips.

His eyes were stuck on you, hypnotizing. Nothing even existed beyond your lips around the cigar. Nothing else mattered as your lips parted and you sucked in the smoke, slow and deliberate. Letting the smoke linger in your mouth, and the woody flavors sink into your tongue.

Your fingers pressed flat against his tongue, stroking the wet muscle as you blew the flavorful smoke in Dutch's face. “We can work out a deal.”

He was caught in its haze, the sweet burning smell attacking each of his senses. But just under the familiar taste of the cigar was you, breathing in you. You were his air.

Your fingers left his mouth, his tongue without him knowing it, had wrapped around your fingers, causing a small string of drool to follow.

You placed the cigar back into his mouth before waving as the line continued. Dutch felt like he was wearing iron shoes, each step like a drag away from you. He sucked on the cigar a bit harsher as he sat back next to Molly, staring at her lap, which was toying with the thin pages of a Bible.

He could taste you within the tobacco leaves. The more of you he could taste, the more his stomach tightened. The stiff wood made his back uncomfortable as he stirred.

Their eyes shot open, and he slightly labored breathing as he sat up from his cot. Glancing over, Molly's sleeping figure was still. Dutch sighed and stepped out of the tent to look at the sky. It was so early the sun hadn’t even begun rising.

Scanning the camp, he nodded to Hosea, who was awake and sitting on a nearby crate. He could see Kieran tossing in his sleep if he narrowed his eyes. But the sound of Charles Javier and Arthur packing for their trip stole his attention.

Each man rubbed their eyes in exhaustion as they stood up from their crouching position, bidding Dutch a good morning as they made their way out of camp.

Arthur lay there, staring at the stars, the weight of the rumors hangin' heavy on his chest. He knew deep down they weren’t true—couldn't be. He was the only one who'd ever talked to you like that, ever shared that kind of talk with you. And you’d told him, real clear-like, that you'd never done any of that before—unless you’d been pulling the wool over his eyes.

But still, the damn rumors floated around like a smoke cloud. It gnawed at him, eating away at his peace of mind. It made him wonder if you were just trying to make yourself seem spotless and clean as a saint because of how you now held yourself. The thought twisted his stomach as he tried to get a few hours of sleep before heading out to find Sean.

But Arthur was restless, tossing in his cot. The thought of you kept stirring in his head, messing with his focus. He knew rumors would be whispered about in camp; he had a few. But this time, it felt different; they weren’t talking about him, and his behavior changes were odd or concerning.

They were about you, which made his blood boil in a way he hadn’t expected. You, of course, hadn’t seen Arthur, but he saw you. He’d seen you walk through town many times before he’d ever stepped foot into the church after Reverend practically pushed him through the door. He’d stare at you as you donated money to anyone asking, even if they looked like they’d spit on any dollar you handed. He’d never see you take the change when buying something unless it was shoved back into your hand.

He even remembered laughing as you stood, keeping a door open for almost two minutes because people kept walking into the saloon. Maybe it wasn’t the rumors bothering him so much, but the idea that you’d want to hide things from him. That you might think he’d judge you for your past, for things you couldn’t change. He was the last person in the world who should judge you, and he would be the last to have a bad thing to say. Arthur did everything for survival, which eventually became a muddy reason for him, but you were trying to get through each day. The thought still couldn’t leave his mind; he needed to clear the air with you. Finally, look into your eyes and meet you. He’d have to do it soon. He wasn’t going to go back to Blackwater, risk his head coming off before you even got to see it.

He got up from the cot; it had only been a few hours since he left the booth and bid you goodnight. If you were awake, he had no clue. The moonlight washed over his skin as he rode his horse to the church. The only people awake in Valentine were too drunk to see their own two feet as he hitched his horse and made his way up the steps.

At the front of the church, you were kneeling at the steps, hands clasped, your rosary between your hands, eyes shut. You looked so serene, so… far away. Arthur stepped forward slowly, the same pace he’d use when hunting deer. You tensed up when you heard the footsteps, eyes flicking over to him as you rose. “Oh! Hello, Sir,” Your voice is soft and warm. “Is everything okay?” Your eyes were so delicate as you looked at him, cradling him with your eyes as you stayed a foot away from him, unsure how close to get. Arthur stood there for a long moment, staring at you, his jaw tight. Finally, he spoke, his voice low but firm. “Got a minute?”

Your eyes went wide, and you held your hands to your chest. “I always do for you.” Arthur took a step closer, his boots stopping right before you. He could feel his hands shaking but forced himself to stay steady. "I heard the whispers," he said, keeping his voice even though its edge was hard to ignore. "People talkin’ about you..."

Your eyes fell. You didn’t flinch. But he saw the slightest shift, the way your shoulders tensed. You looked away, fingers tight around the fabric of your robes. “Arthur, I—” “No," he interrupted, his voice sharp now, almost desperate. "I ain't askin’ for explanations you ain't ready to give, but I need to know somethin'. I need to know where you stand 'cause all this—" He waved a hand at the town just behind him, at the rumors, at the whispers, at his frustration seeping through his skin—“ain’t sittin’ right with me.”

You hesitated, and for a moment, Arthur thought you might turn away. But then you met his gaze, your eyes soft but heavy with something he couldn’t quite place. “I didn’t want this,” you said quietly, almost like a confession. “Didn’t want anyone thinkin’ that about me.” Your voice faltered, but you didn’t back down. “I never did anything wrong, but people in this rotten town don’t want the truth.”

Arthur’s heart pounded. “What truth?” he asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the answer. He was a fool to be standing here, asking these questions, but there was no going back now.

Your body sank, the weight of the world in your eyes. “I’ve dealt with some wretched men in this town, each and every one of them leaving the church with a black heart when I refused them.”

Arthur couldn’t stand the distance between you anymore. He reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he placed it gently on your shoulder, grounding you, steadying you. "I never asked for this, Arthur. But it’s all I’ve known." your voice trembled, “These robes, these stories I grew up with. I gave up my freedom for this… life. It hardly started before it got ripped away from me.” You fell into Arthurs's arms, breathing unevenly as he held you up.

The world around him began to crumble as he held your face to look at him. His thumb traced your jaw, and your skin was so soft against his hands. The only audible sound was the light popping from the many candles in the church. Arthur thought you could hear his heartbeat.

He didn’t pull away, nor did you; his gaze lingered on your lips, drawn to them like a man desperate for water. He was so close now, close enough to feel your skin's warmth and hear your breathing. He hadn’t been this close to someone who needed him just as much as he needed them in years. How you looked at him—soft and with watery eyes—made him want to hold, protect, and kiss you.

He couldn’t stop himself now. He had to know if you felt the same hunger he did. His breath mingled with yours, and he held your hips against his. The kiss was tender as your eyes fluttered shut. The ache in your body was unmistakable to him. When you leaned into him instead, Arthur’s chest tightened, and he deepened the kiss. His hand slid to the back of your neck, cradling you to him like he couldn’t get close enough.

With a low groan, he swept you off your feet, your legs wrapped around his hips as he slowly placed your back against the worn seat of the wooden pew. His mind felt hazy with longing like he was melting into you. The skirt of your cassock rode up, and the pants you wore under were a thin fabric that left nothing to his imagination. A sliver of your stomach was visible, his rough hands immediately attached to the area, tracing his fingers across your warm skin.

He'd never even seen your arms before, so this was not something he’d let slip away. Both of your hearts raced as he pressed his chest to yours. His fingers slipped under the fabric of your cassock, tracing up the line of your spine. “Arthur…” The way his name escaped your lips felt like worship; it sent a thrill through his body.

His lips found your neck, warm and tender, he could feel your pulse under his teeth. Tilting your head, offering yourself to him fully. He sucked a mark into your neck, rolling his hips against yours, hands, and pulling up your cassock, leaving more of your torso exposed. The cool air against your body made you shiver as his lips met yours again without hesitation. He was urgent and desperate for you. Running your hands through his hair, his hat fell off, landing on the floor beside you both.

His hands went back to your waist, tracing each bump and curve of your body, committing it to memory as if this would be the last time he ever held you. His fingers trailed down your stomach, and a soft gasp left you as he did, causing him to falter for just a moment. “Is this alright?” His voice was harsh but breathless, waiting for any indication that it was okay that you were okay. You nodded, unable to speak. Your hands pulled him back in for a kiss. He chuckled against your lips, teasing the button of your pants. Part of him wanted just to rip them off; the fabric was thin enough to get away with it.

“Do you want this? Do you want this as much as I do?” You whined at Arthur’s words nodding quickly.

Letting you go from both of his arms for just a second, he tore off your pants and quickly did the same with his own. Pressing hot kisses and bites across your stomach, Arthurs's head sunk to your ass, gently pressing around the rim of your ass with his tongue coaxing you tetween each press of his tongue. Arthur was falling apart trying to pace himself to not come just from your noises and thighs squeezing his head. He was surrounded by you in the best way he could imagine licking away at your hole, pleased noises leaving Arthur as if this was the best thing in the world.

Arthur moved one of his hands down to grab your thigh, pushing it up to give his face better access, resting your knee over his shoulder Arthur snaked his tongue inside. Your cries only got louder and more desperate but nothing could pull Arthur away. Not even his cock leaking onto the pew, begging for attention.

Arthurs pressed his tongue in deeper and moaned at the taste, rubbing his hands up and down your thighs which trembled at all the new sensations from Arthurs hands and tongue.

“Arthur! I, I can't please!” Arthurs pace stayed the exact same, driving you crazy.

Arthur's eyes squinted open, the cot he was on groaned at his movements as he went to sit up properly. Javier was just waking up as well. Charles turned onto his side stretching with a yawn. Arthur didn't have the time to break down such a weird dream. It all felt too real even if it made no sense.

Boots thudding against the dirt ground he began to pack, Sean needed a rescue. The dream could take the back burner for the next few days. He bid Dutch and Hosea a good morning as he stuffed his satchel with bullets. It will be a long day.

As Hosea stepped inside, he found the church empty. He had intended to ask something, but when he saw you leaning against the pulpit, your face intensely focused as you flipped through the Bible's pages, he forgot what he had come to ask.

“Good evening, Mister Matthews! What brings you here?” The steel pen in your hand stopped writing as you stayed leaned over the wooden stand. Hosea scratched his chin, trying to remember.

“Well, to be frank with you, Father (Name), I don’t quite remember!” you both laughed lightly. Hosea attempted to take his eyes off your hips and the curve of your back, but it was futile as you seemed to lean down even further.

“You know what, Mister Matthews? I’ve been having some trouble! Could you follow me?” You pushed away from the pulpit and gestured toward a door down the hallway. He followed you as you spoke, “This drawer hasn’t been coming out fully. I think it’s jammed, but I’m unsure how to fix it!”

As you opened the door, Hosea realized that this was your room—your sanctuary, with the smell of incense and you.

“It’s this one here,” you said quietly, pointing to the lower drawer, your brow furrowed in concentration. You bent down to tug at the stubborn metal handles, and Hosea couldn’t help but watch, his eyes tracing the line of your back. He cleared his throat, his voice strained. “Uh-huh.” He felt his pants grow tighter, a warm flush creeping over him.

Slipping off his coat, he draped it over your bed and crouched beside you, eager to help. The drawer was stubbornly jammed, resisting your efforts to pull it free. He’s never claimed to be good at fixing things, but he couldn’t deny your sweet face to at least try. After a few tries and a gentle adjustment of the wheels back onto the steel bearings, he finally managed to free it.

With the drawer now open, you gestured toward the bed. “You’ve earned a seat,” you said, a mischievous glint in your eye. As Hosea sat down, you perched beside him, your legs brushing ever so slightly. You mentioned your bed frame, its robust and well-made design standing the test of time; after all these years, it had never cracked.

You sat on the mattress, the soft fabric beneath you inviting and warm. As you wiggled the headboard with a playful grin, Hosea couldn’t help but admire how your eyes sparkled with mischief. His words slipped out before he could catch them, a teasing jab at the moment. “Well, of course, there’s no cracks or breaks; not like you’re doing anything to risk breaking it.”

The shocked surprise on your face quickly morphed into a sulky pout, and Hosea found himself captivated. That expression was one he could never resist. “There are more things that can break a bed, Mister Matthews!” you retorted, your tone playful yet challenging. Slowly, he leaned closer, and so did you. Each beat of his heart was one inch of distance closing. “I think,” he said, his voice low and filled with intent, “there’s a lot more than just the bed that can be tested tonight.”

the distance between you closed, and his lips found yours in a slow, tentative kiss. Testing the waters as your eyes fluttered shut. Your fingers brushed his jaw, tracing the roughness of his stubble. Hosea’s heart raced; he hadn’t been with anyone like this in a very long time. His thumb now grazing the curve of your cheek, committing the softness to memory.

He could taste a faint sweetness in your breath as you pulled back just slightly, your eyes having a mischievous glint to them, “You truly are a charmer, Mister Matthews.” Hosea smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting, brushing any hair from your face. The scent of your incense lingered in the air as you leaned forward again. This kiss was more desperate as you pressed a hand against Hosea's chest, running a thumb against the fabric.

Hosea felt every brush of your lips and your hand against his body. His hands slipped down to your chest, undoing the button of the caplet you occasionally wore with your cassock. The small fabric fell from your torso as he went for the stiff white collar you had. He wasn’t sure what it was called but carefully placed it on your bedside table. His nimble fingers made quick work of each button, and his lips trailed down your jaw to your neck, pressing kisses that made you whine against him. Your hands landed on his soft, silver hair, gently tugging at it. His ability to be fully present in the moment began to sway as every piece of clothing the two of you wore was shed.

You were on top of him now; your warmth surrounded him, and he wasn’t sure how long he could last with each rock of your hips. Each moan and groan landed on deaf ears The soft glow from the candles in your room surrounded the space behind you, like a halo around your body. You were like an angel as the pressure in his body finally gave way.

Taking a deep breath, Hosea sat up from his bedroll on the floor. The purple hues from the sky were still there as he woke up. Bill passed out nearby, snoring. Hosea got half-dressed before sitting on a nearby crate; he didn’t want to sit on the wet ground.

He noticed Kieran twitch in his sleep before hearing a groan from Dutch nearby tent. The tent flap opened, and Dutch stepped out with a grunt and nodded toward Hosea.

Arthur, Charles, and Javier all woke up at the same time, looking like they didn’t sleep a wink. Hosea grabbed a nearby book, pretending to read the pages as he reflected on his dream momentarily. Clearing his throat, he attempted actually to read.

Javier’s feet ached as he made his way through the quaint town, the dirt roads reflecting a light he felt he should recognize, yet he was sure he had never been here before. The soft chatter of townsfolk and the distant laughter of children playing filled the air, but the sounds felt distant, like echoes from a world he once knew but could not recall.

As he climbed the gentle incline towards a church perched on the hill, a sense of familiarity washed over him, stirring something deep within. Tall and proud, the church stood with its weathered stones and sun-kissed spire. That's when he saw you. The usual modest long sleeve and skirt you wore were now replaced with short sleeves and fitting slacks. Your hands were covered in gardening gloves as you tended to a bed of flowers.

Javier's mind began to untangle memories. Growing up in Mexico, the church played a pivotal role in the fabric of life for most families. Yet, a shadow loomed over his nostalgia, for the beginnings of that connection were marred by hardship and plenty of loss.

He had often considered the life he was forced to abandon, the severed family ties, and the unfulfilled dreams. Each day carried the weight of that sacrifice, a reminder of everything he had left behind and the bittersweet memories that haunted him. Even now, as he stood before the church, his heart ached.

“Hola, Father.” Javier adjusted the sack on his back, leaning on his hip.

“Good morning, Mister Escuella! I'm surprised you're back so soon. You must tell me about your adventures!” You rested your gloved hands against your knees, smiling up at Javier.

Your dark outfit looked stunning against the white clover flowers surrounding you in the grass.

“It seems no matter how far I go, I'm always led back to you, Father (Name),” Javier purred, glancing at the red flowers you had planted in the flower bed before you.

He fidgeted with the strap of his bag, hoping you didn’t notice how uncomfortable he felt. Truth be told, he worked hard to sell the idea of being a romantic, hoping that he might start to believe it himself. Your arms flexed as you adjusted the flower bed to be more in the sunlight. Javier licked his lips at the sight. Your skin was always so covered that he never had the opportunity to see your body.

Your smile warmed his heart; perhaps he was beginning to believe it. You took off your gloves, leaving them on the church's porch.

“Well! Let’s head inside; I’m sure you’re just exhausted!” You cooed at Javier, placing your hand on his lower back and leading him inside. Once the heavy doors shut behind the two of you, Javier pulled you into his chest, dropping his bag to the ground. His hands tilted your head as he pressed a desperate kiss to your lips. Your lips were much softer against his. Not a single piece of dried skin tainted them.

You softly gasped as his hand landed on your ass. Holding the fat in his hand, messaging it. “This. This keeps me coming back…guapo~” he spoke against your lips; your whine was like music to his ears at his words. He could feel your hard dick against his thigh; his hand let go of your face tracing the head of your cock with his fingers, “This too, dios mio, I can’t forget it.”

“Javi, we can’t do this here!” Your voice fell on deaf ears.

You were overly sensitive to every touch he gave you, hips bucking into his hand as you both stumbled to the floor. Javier places his hat on your head before straddling your lap. Javier couldn’t remember taking your pants off or even his own, but you filled him so nicely that he honestly didn’t even care how it happened. You were lucky the church was empty; for your sake, even if a few other church members were wandering around, he’s not sure anything would’ve changed with how intensely he was riding you. Such a stuffy place could use a good show. And who better to put on a show than one of the leading members?

Javier huffed your hands held onto his hips, the tips of your fingers pressed into the skin, trying to slow the pace of his hips down, but he just couldn’t get enough of your desperate cries. Javier knew he couldn’t last despite the movements you constantly brushed against every sensitive spot in his body. He loved how you looked with his hat on; it was like staking his claim on you, other than the obvious.

He grabbed one of your arms, kissing the palm of your hand down your arm. The hair of his mustache scratched against your arm, but any new sensations felt so good that you didn’t mind. Javier's body trembled as he pressed his lips to your arm, his eyes squeezed shut. Every ache in his body was gone for a moment.

Javier's body felt hot, way too hot, as his body sat up. White sleep shirt, much lower than it was when he put it on the night before. The fire he slept by next to Charles was much stronger than it usually was in the morning. He and Charles caught eyes for a moment, if Charles looked like death, Javier was sure he was in the same boat. He heard Arthuts boots against the ground and began to pack, he had to pick up Trelawny to scope out the scene and was not excited for the non-stop conversation that was bound to happen on the ride to black water.

The crunch of the rocks under Charles's boots alerted your resting figure. Since his hand healed, he decided to get back into hunting to donate the meat to either you or Pearson when he was finished. He had skin and gathered the meat from a few deers, which he kept on his horse; he wasn’t sure what you were doing here. It’s a bit of a ride from Valentine here, but he wasn’t upset to see you sooner than planned.

“I’ve been waiting here for you, Mister Smith. I just couldn't stop thinking about you!” He finally noticed your body position: you were on all fours, your back slightly arched.

“What’s uh going on, Father (Name)?” you looked over your shoulder, maintaining eye contact with Charles. “What? I can’t say hi to you on my own…Special way, Mister Smith?” he couldn’t tell if this was some sort of joke if you were pulling his leg trying to make him laugh or what, but he also didn’t want just to brush this away because he was nervous.

Charles felt like an animal huffing over your shaking body, his chest pressed against your back; your arms were shaking, seeming like they were about to give out from under you. His thrusts weren’t harsh. They were pretty even, but even then, each thrust felt like pushing each thought from your brain. Your body fell against the lush grass on the ground, Charles following suit. Charles was no small man in any sense of the word. And he didn’t want to hurt you even if you were offering yourself to him.

His head rested just behind yours, breathing against the back of your neck, inhaling the smell of your hair as he rutted between your plush thighs, his hard-on brushing against yours with each rutt of his hips. His lips kissed the nape of your neck; he could feel your hand begin to stroke yourself, your hand grazing over his cock when it was near. He felt like a predator who successfully caught his prey, your whines high-pitched, like cries. Fucking you out in the open, anyone could walk by. God forbid someone gets curious to check on the noise.

But Charles was starting to lose all of his sense on top of you; the precum from his thrusting lubed up your thighs, making a slick, wet noise. He lightly bit the nape of your neck, causing your body to keen into his. His hands held your hips, moving your entire body back and forth to thrust you back and forth on his cock. You were reduced to just a moaning mess, and a guilty part of him reveled in seeing you so dependent on him even to hold you together. With a groan, Charles bit down a little harder. His eyes opened, seeing Javier sitting up, already looking at Charles. It was the sight he usually woke up to, but Javier looked rough, as if he had hardly slept.

Charles felt strained, his hard-on not gone down at all as he began to wake up fully at the sounds of Arthur packing. With a grunt, he sat up, taking in the sight of the camp before beginning to pack himself. He felt lucky to have slightly baggy pants, giving himself some decency and saving himself from potential stares and odd conversations.

[exocynraku]

sorry if this is a bit strange to say but your style is so charming :] are there any specific inspirations you have? ALSO can i ask where you learned anatomy from? drawing cats has always been a pain for me and i’m wondering if you have any tips… and i hope you have a lovely day!!! love your works so much :]

thank you veery much.. warrior cats related? ursiday, lupiine, thunderc1an/rebe adventures, movdotmov, assignedk9, bunnyfarm and many popular warrior cats artists on youtube come to mind. otherwise, a lot of what I take inspiration from is manga. i didn't really learn it from anywhere persay, just practice. if you look at some of my first ever wc designs, i could definitely do better now LOL. i'd love to give you more specific tips but literally how i learn is just draw cats. i drew almost all day every day in early covid days when i wasn't in school, and did like, 10 designs a day. ( i wouldn't recommend doing this though, cause now i have Wrist Pain <3 ). so my best advice to you is just draw cats. i never had a problem with seeing my art as 'bad' because in the beginning i was horrendously egotistical and though whatever my current artstyle at the time was was absolutely peak, but i know a lot of people do, so you really need to push yourself forward. even if you see problems in your art now, you have to keep drawing to rectify them. you could study a hundred art books and go to dozens of dozens of classes and look at tons of tutorials but if you don't actually DRAW anything, you aren't going to learn. if you're experiencing artblock, draw something you like which is easy for you (i usually draw my fursona). etc. the minimal amount of tips i CAN give you is to trace. not in like a post-it-online-claiming-its-yours sort of way, but find an artist you like and trace their pieces. specifically, trace the things you like from them, like the paws or face. i do this not often i would say but enough it's able to help me, plus it usually gets me out of ruts where i don't like certain parts of my art. also, real pictures. i'd say this helps more for things like understanding cat anatomy vs how to stylize it. for resources, i'll give you this and this. i can also say, if you're not liking your art, it might be the brush you're using. change it up, i have TONS downloaded and will spend literally hours finding and editing one to what i like. also, get rid of any idea of an "artstyle". you may develop something concrete eventually, but don't stick yourself to a box in the beginning. also, KEEP EVERYTHING. going back and looking at my old designs and art is extremely entertaining, and it can show you how much you're improved over time. tldr: just draw. it's how i learned. a couple other things, but 90% of it is literally just keep drawing.

[doogieverse]

Sonic Classpects <3

I designed them to be a twelve player session because I thought that was more fun :-) I didn't necessarily keep gender specific classes/aspects in mind. Do, however, keep in mind that classpects aren't always a one-to-one with characters' personalities. Sometimes, they're roles that they have to come into, or accept.

Also, if anyone draws them in their godtier outfits I will be eternally grateful. Sonic: Heir of Hope Sonic is a symbol of hope; whether he realizes it or not, his actions carry weight. That means that although overall he inspires a positive change— bringing hope to others— if he makes a mistake, it brings despair instead. In this regard, Sonic is hope personified.

Tails: Mage of Light Tails uses knowledge as a weapon, sometimes to his detriment. He's often given seemingly impossible quests, with not much time to complete them. You could argue that he's cursed to be the brains in a team full of brawns. That being said, he seeks out knowledge like a moth drawn to a flame; he lives off of it.

Knuckles: Knight of Rage Knuckles's entire purpose is to protect and serve, both his friends and Angel Island. However, rather than being a level-headed knight archetype, Knuckles is a hot-headed warrior, thinking with his fists, rather than his brain. This leads him to have a bit of an anger problem, which can also bring rage to those around him.

Amy: Sylph of Heart Amy is self-absorbed, only in the sense that she believes that what is in her heart is always right. Apart from that, she looks to heal the heavy hearts of those around her, even animals, and complete strangers. She is caring and giving at her best, and volatile and clingy at her worst.

Metal Sonic: Page of Doom Metal Sonic was built to be a harbinger of doom, and continues to do so of his own volition. He has great potential, but is held back by his own insecurities— which can mean he was programmed with limitations, or that he has a more human side that conflicts with his programming. Because of this, he becomes doomed himself, in an infinite cycle of being destroyed and rebuilt.

Shadow: Prince of Blood Shadow is driven by his bonds, whether it's to his friends or enemies, and those in the past or those in the future. He uses these relationships as excuses to wreak havoc. Therefore, he can be seen as selfish, whether his cause is noble or not. In truth, Shadow is more stubborn than anything. Though he defines himself by his relationships, he is often misunderstood.

Rouge: Thief of Space Rouge is incredibly patient and adaptable, traits that are imparative for a jewel thief. Her passion is taking things for herself, which may be egocentric by nature, she is known to have good intentions. She is naturally confident when it comes to her abilities, and isn't above using her feminine charm to accomplish her goals.

Blaze: Maid of Mind Blaze is calm and collected, weighing the multitude of options before acting. She also has this effect on others as well, getting them to see her reasoning. She is often rigid, as she's used to making the tough decisions, and carries that burden with responsibility. However, hardships can cause her to act out of character, being paralyzed by choice, or leaving her fiery temper to take over.

Silver: Witch of Time. Silver has been known to manipulate time, both figuratively and literally. While he can time travel with ease, he also has an unwillingness to take things as they are. That being said, he also has a tendency to end up in difficult and dreary situations. He's constantly stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Vector: Rogue of Breath Vector may be a detective, but he doesn't play by the book. He lives as he pleases, being able to slip into the role of leader, bodyguard, comedic relief, etc. However, this can make him hard to pin down. As a detective, he takes others' autonomy by bringing them to justice. This not only helps feed him and his partners, but it also keeps the streets clean.

Espio: Bard of Void Espio is a stealthy character, at first glance, Able to become invisible, he's able to stealthily gain the upper hand on his opponent. However, he also has the innate desire to show off; he's cool and he wants others to know it, even if he acts nonchalant about it. In both ways he destroys void: either by filling it or filling its role.

Charmy: Seer of Life Charmy is the charisma and joy of Team Chaotix. He wants to bring life to his friends by being upbeat and having fun. Though he may be a naïve child, he's still attuned to others' feelings, and desires to empower them best he can. He isn't always great at it, sometimes coming off as annoying and overeager instead.

[depressnt]

If I ever wrote a Wicked dnd au (tw massive rant!)

There'd be 8 grimmeries that encompass the 8 schools of magic, written by the wise ones and enchanted with sentience, they all choose one powerful magic user who encompasses their school to be able to read it, but people only know of the Transmutative Grimmerie- the bronze one- because there's a spell that keeps it in the emerald palace and the wizard tries to brute force it to work for him, and none of the others have come out of hiding and are instead waiting for a magic user to discover them

I say magic users because they won't always necessarily pick a wizard just because Wizards are those most likely to use spellbooks. The grimmeries choose someone who will use their spells to the betterment of Oz, and sometimes they won't even pick someone who specializes in the school of magic they represent

Also, Galinda is a wizard. People pretend she's a bard, but she is 100% a wizard. I'm sorry but I don't see her being selfless or dedicated enough to be able to practice as a support class, and while that one wicked dnd au where she's a cleric is wonderful, I'm a wizard Galinda truther. She WANTS to study magic, she's BEEN studying magic her wholeeee life, she wishes it were innate but it isn't so she's gonna grab magic BY THE BALLS and bend it to her will. Whether she specializes in enchantments (charms) or illusion is something I'm still debating, probably enchantment, but I hc Conjuration comes easily to her because she knows how to make something out of nothing (through lying), and doesn't want to lie but she kind of has to do it all the time and it sucks, she wants her lies to not be fake anymore, she's an honest gall! Just sometimes honesty gets you killed real damn dead. I think the Evocation grimmerie might like her, she's selfish enough to call on the aggressive nature of its spells for her own gain, and it just so happens that "her own gain" is "making Oz the kind of place Elphaba can live safely again" (I read a two chapter 34k word gelphie hurt/comfort reunion fic, and her characterization just KILLED me, I'm never gonna stop thinking of her, I love her)

(Found the link!)

Elphaba wants to be a wizard soooo bad, but she's a wild magic sorceress <33 Unsleeping City homebrew style, where her wild magic surges build up over time like Pete's, she can't STAND it and she nearly hurt so many people whenever she surged, the transmutation grimmerie picks her both as a way to get out of the palace, and because she wants to enact Good and Solid change in Oz, and it likes that

Fiyero is a swashbuckler rogue who switches his sword out for a gun in act 2, and maybe switches subclasses to mastermind to try and help Elphaba as best he can (reference to mastermind's ability to use Help action from 30 feet away, alsp it was HIS idea to fake her death) (a revived or phantom rogue would also make perfect plot sense, but I don't see it for his character)

Nessa is a commoner until she gets the ruby slippers, which is when she realizes she needs to step up her game if she's to stay with the Charmed Circle, so she becomes a ranger, maybe a monster slayer- seeking out Elphaba to kill her with a gun (hc her father taught her to shoot when guns became a thing, because it was novel and interesting and she liked the power it gave her despite the chair) before having a change of heart

Boq is either a Barbarian or a fighter in my mind, maybe a champion fighter tbh? He'd have been Nessa's (unwilling) right hand during the dictatorship, and I'd believe she'd force him to essentially head whatever military she might have amassed, I think she'd gladly try and seceed from Oz. And also the Tin Woodman was wild with an axe in the books! (Allegedly) (still gotta read those), I think he'd find some release in physical prowess, maybe holding out hope he'd be able to fight his way out, since he was clearly too smitten to smart his way out of... pretty much any situation in his life

[nuttersincorporated]

Tumblr: A Beginners Guide

Hello and welcome to Tumblr!

If you're new here, this post is a little guide meant to help you understand how things work on Tumblr. I’m going to give you some guidelines and explain a little bit about Tumblr culture. Hopefully, this will help you settle in, avoid unnecessary pitfalls and enjoy your time here. I hope you’ll like it here on our hellsite (affectionate).

1. First and most importantly, please change your userpic and put something on your blog.

If you don’t, other users will think you're a bot and you'll be reported/blocked. It’s nothing personal but we are at war with the bot accounts. Most older users will automatically assume that a blank blog= bot.

You don’t need to do much. If you aren’t comfortable rebloging things or making your own posts yet, just change your userpic and add a short description to your blog.

Here’s an example of a description you can use.

‘Hi! I’m new here. I’m still working out how this place works but I promise I’m not a bot so please don’t block me.’

2. Go to your settings, then to your dashboard settings and change things to how you like them. I suggest-

Make Tumber show you posts in chronologically order, rather than pushing ‘best stuff first’

Pick a colour palate that doesn’t give you a headache

Make Tumblr show timestamps on posts and reblogs. While a post is never too old to reblog, you don’t want to accidentally signal boost something as ‘news’ when it's acutely years out of date and no longer relevant.

Choose not to shorten long posts

3. Go to the top of your dashboard, press on the toggle and arrange things how you like them.

I suggest pinning your ‘Following’ first. It means that when you go to your dashboard, the first thing you’ll see are the blogs that you’ve actively chosen to follow.

Some older users will tell you that the ‘For You’ page is useless and should be ignore. This is because for a long time it was either non-existent or terrible so most older users – myself included – just don’t bother with it.

However, nowadays it’s fine so use it if you want. ‘Following’ should still probably be pinned first though because you know what you like better than the algorithm.

4. Please don’t censor your words here. Tumblr doesn’t shadow ban you for saying random words.

Shadow banning does happen but it’s mostly at random or because you were targeted by trolls. If it happens to you, you’ll need to fight to get unshadow banned.

The point is that you won’t get shadow banned for saying ‘death,’ ‘murder’ or ‘rape.’ Don’t do things like saying ‘graped’ instead of ‘raped.’ If you do, you’re just going to piss people off and make it harder for people to avoid triggers.

5. Don’t spam the tags!

You can ramble in the tags all you want and nobody will mind. However, if you tag an unrelated post with a popular tag, you will be reported for spamming. It’s against the Tumblr terms and conditions, it’s annoying and it’s something the porn bots do.

6. Please, reblog things. It helps posts spread a lot more than liking them does. Think of your blog as a scrap book where you put stuff you like.

If you aren’t comfortable adding to a post, that’s fine. Just reblog it and share it with others.

7. That said, Tumblr posts are collaborative and we like it when you add to them. It doesn’t have to be much. You don’t have to add something every time you reblog a post but it is a part of the fun to do it sometimes.

If it’s an art or fanfic post comments like; ‘good post op,’ ‘I LOVE THIS!’ or even ‘OUCH my heart!!!’ will make an OP’s day.

If it’s another sort of post; you can add your thoughts or join in on committing to the bit. Try matching the energy the post is already giving.

8. The follow and block buttons are your friend. You decide what you see here. If your dashboard doesn’t spark joy, you can always follow someone new and/or follow an interesting tag. If someone is making your time here unpleasant unfollow and/or block them.

9. Tumblr likes to commit to the bit. Sharks are smooth (they are not) and the 1973 Martin Scorsese movie ‘Goncharov’ is the greatest film ever made (it doesn’t exist).

10. A post is never too old to reblog. We like old posts here.

Every now and again, you will see a post that is over ten years old. The reblogs will probably be full of people expressing delight about seeing the original post again or seeing it for the first time.

11. You don’t want to be Tumblr famous.

There are niche blogs that are dedicated to one thing and are well liked e.g. @the-haiku-bot (the one bot we love), @writing-prompt-s and @cantheykillmacbeth. However, they are either side blogs or blogs run by multiple people.

Your main blog should just be somewhere you like to spend your time. There are no benefits to being Tumblr famous on your main blog.

12. Tumblr spreads news with this meme

13. Tumblr loves dates. Whether it’s the Ides of March (it sure would be a shame if certain world leaders got stabbed), Halloween (which we start celebrating in about July) or just a random day of the week e.g. ‘Out of Touch Thursday’ there is always something happening that you can celebrate.

14. The staff always pulls a silly and harmless prank on Apil Fools Day. Last year we got to boop each other.

15. We like a silly poll

Okay, I think that’s the basics covered. You’ll get the hang of everything else as you go along.

I hope you have fun here and that you manage to avoid Apollo’s dodgeball of prophecy (try not to joke about a specific way things could get worse or you might be hit).

Yours faithfully,

A Tumblr Cockroach

[nurmiiii]

while cleaning my room I found a book about azulejos all over Portugal that I bought on my trip there

[martyrbat]

habeas corpus – detective comics #1086

(ID in alt!)

[grumpy-nyks]

The Fernweh Saga by @lacunafiction - Davor edition

I-I think Ms. Verner doesn't like him...😳

Davor "Dove" Kovač 🐝 RO: Becca Warrick

Personality: cautious // aloof // pessimistic // flirtatious (only towards Becca ...and Reese??) Traits: head // independent // resistance // believer Past affinity: math Primary ability: extrasensory awareness Past susceptibility: forward. 'it’s better to push forward. don’t look back on the past when you have new places to be and things to achieve.' <<< his motto

🕊️ Fernweh: Davor lived a happy life there and didn't think about leaving in the future. Maybe for some trips, but he knew it would always be his place, his safe place... 'It was a mistake to come back here.' - that was his first thought when he tried to fall asleep on the first night in Fernweh. The nightmares came back as he thought they would. He wants to leave as soon as possible because he feels that it is not safe for Becca to be here.

🕊️ Gramps Dan: That was his gramps who taught Davor how to play the guitar. As a young child, Davor always admired him and believed he was the most intelligent person in the world. After the death of his parents and how his grandfather treated him, he was devastated and angry. He wanted answers soo badly but didn't get any. He lived loathing his grandfather ever since. The news of his passing stirred up a lot of negative emotions that Davor had previously managed to suppress. At the beginning of the story he couldn't care less about his grandfather, but because of his journal he started to believe him. Things that his granfather lived through made Davor even more angry at this messy town …but he's willing to forgive his gramps…

🐝 Becca Warrick: It was a ...funny story that brought both of them together and they look after each other ever since. He considers Becca as his precious (not in a negative-possessive way) treasure, he literally can't let anything bad happen to her. That was also she who came up with the nickname 'Dove'... (and she's literally the only person who calls him that, others wouldn't dare...). He had feelings for her for quite some time but didn't act on it... until now. Although he didn't express it, he felt very nervous about Becca being in the town where he grew up. He was curious (but also scared) about what she could think of this town. He felt like he was revealing more of himself to her…. and he forgot about any worries pretty fast, because the town started being weird as fu--.

🕊️ Reese Verner: Back then Davor was quite cheerful and enjoyed competing with Reese regularly. They teased each other a lot. Davor always thought that Reese had a crush on him, was it true tho? donut know, but he certainly had. ...why does he appear in his nightmares? Maybe the crush stage never disappeared...? Seeing him again was a nice experience, sure... but ignoring the circumstances, he is still unsure if it was worth it and is struggling with his thoughts… Would it be worth it to return to Fernweh just to see him... again? welp, good thing he doesn't have to think about it much, am I right?

🕊️ Sofia Dorran: The two of them maybe did not have a strong relationship, but he knew Sofia is the ideal person for engaging in intelligent conversations. He enjoyed spending time with her, solving the puzzles that gramps created for them both. Davor wasn't a fan of fantasy books, but she managed to change his mind about them. Davor knows that Sofia did take good care of his grandfather, but he still doesn't quite know if he's grateful for that or wished she spent her time more... valuably... He was tempted to ask Sofia to borrow that book she found in his grandfather's bedroom, but he thought better of it. It's better to leave Fernweh… Even so, his curiosity wasn't properly fed.

🕊️ James Corvin: Maybe not brothers by blood, but definitely brothers by choice. Davor treated him as if he was the brother he always wanted to have. Back then Davor always placed a high value on his family… until now. At the time, Davor tended to be more impulsive and James was usually the one who kept him from getting into trouble (which often involved Reese). It was really hard, for both of them, to see each other after so long. Their first interaction was pretty awkward... I would even say that most of their interactions were . James noticed how Davor changed the question is: for the better or worse? I don't even know. Everyone can sense, that things around them are different now, and they aren't as close as before. Will it change?

🕊️ Alek Corvin: …To say that Alek wasn't a fan of Davor would be an understatement. Was it because James spent most of his time focusing only on Davor trying to get him out of trouble? Did Alek observe any possessiveness from Davor towards James? Or maybe simply because of the bond between those two, which was truly something that others would envy and desire? Davor never considered it, especially when he left Fernweh permanently. :)) As you can imagine, Alek doesn't seem very happy about Davor's return… But he took an interest in his new friend, Becca, which did not go unnoticed by Davor and he isn't really happy about it.

🕊️ The Waitress: Oh boy, it seems that Davor has taken up a new hobby, which is glaring harshly at the waitress. He finds her mistrustful and he smells trouble. Had they met when he was younger, there may have been a slim chance of them getting along.

🕊️ Waffles!: So um… Davor has a little issue with dogs and because of that his relationship with Waffles isn't as wonderful as I wish it would be... However, I believe that with time and help from Becca, they will eventually become friends.

[fingertipsmp3]

Ughhhhhhh I hate writing and I hate not writing and I hate myself

[writingsbychlo]

WITHDRAWAL | theodore nott

summary; theo decides to quit smoking, but doesn't realise that his decision would affect his girlfriend, too.

word count; 3007

notes; just a cute, fluffy little piece based on something that I was tagged in about 2 months ago! unfortunately, I cannot find the original post or tagger, but if it's you, please let me know!!

If there was one thing about Theodore Nott that couldn't be denied, it was that he loved with everything he had. 

He loved his friends; he was loyal to a fault and he’d never let them down. He loved his family, he wrote over fifteen letters a week to all his aunties and cousins, and still held onto his mother’s recipe book, even to this day. 

And he loved, adored, his girlfriend with everything that he had. He’d do anything for her, crawl across hot coals if she asked, give up his magic and his money and his legacy, just to make her happy. She’d never asked as such of him, still blushed when he pulled out his wallet when they shopped and smiled brighter than the sun when he gave her a handmade card or something he’d cooked. So, to his eyes, it didn’t seem all that much when he decided to give up smoking for her. 

She hadn't asked him to, never even pulled a face when he smoked. But Theo was damn sick of trying to blow the smoke away from her when she joined him at the astronomy tower, cuddled up to his chest, because he didn’t want that poison near her. He hated watching her shiver on the colder nights, he hated waking her in the middle of the night when he got up to satiate that itch, and he hated thinking of a future where he left her too soon, running short on time, because he ruined himself.

He chucked his last box into the fireplace one impulsive morning, and thought he might go cold turkey. He’d been so moody by lunchtime that he’d almost bitten Enzo’s head off over the way he pronounced ‘tomato’. That afternoon, he’d ditched his classes and trudged through the snow to the floo connection at the Hog’s Head, and picked up enough nicotine patches from a muggle supply store to knock out a fully grown Hippogriff.

He’d torn the packaging off of one in the grimy restroom at the back of the store and slapped it onto his bicep, and almost collapsed from the relief it gave him. It wasn’t nearly as effective as picking up a packet from the newsagent’s stand he’d passed would’ve been, but as soon as his fingers had twitched to pick up a box, your face had flashed through his mind. Your face, smiling at him, your face that morning telling him how proud you were of him when he’d shared his goals in hopes of support, and it was enough to deter him from the purchase.

You were his strength, once again, as you’d always been. 

And truly, you were so proud of Theo. Changing his patches for him every evening, in time with that first one. Reading up on the muggle solutions, and making sure you were fully versed on how to help him. Keeping him busy seemed to help, when he got bored, his eyes started flicking towards the door, and the slight irritability he’d been able to keep a lid on pretty well would begin to flare up. For the most part, he’d been staying at your dorm, in an active attempt to keep away from Mattheo, who wasn’t quite ready to give up his comfortable vice just yet. 

Unfortunately, as the days went on, while Theo seemed to be handling it just fine, you were struggling. The irritability grew, even Draco’s breathing was making you want to snap pencils in half in the library, or throw Enzo off the astronomy tower if he scraped his fork on his plate one more time. You were ravenous, and nauseous, all at the same time. You wanted to eat everything but could hardly hold it down. You were dizzy, and fatigued, and your grades were going to start slipping if this continued, because it had been almost a week since you’d been able to concentrate on any thought longer than a minute, never mind a whole class. 

And now, you were lying in bed, rubbing at your eyes angrily but unable to sleep as you stared at the ceiling. Theo, for once, was sleeping soundly beside you. Since giving up smoking, his sleep patterns had been getting better, while yours were getting worse by the night. Almost a week, and you’d barely gotten nine hours of sleep put together. 

When you shuffled again, pressing yourself a little closer to Theo as you rolled onto your side, he began to surface. The arm over your midriff tightened, pulling you in until your hips were bracketed against his, and he chuckled sleepily into your neck. Burying himself in, he pressed a kiss there, and another, and another. The rough pounding of your heart settled as you clasped Theo’s hand in your own, holding them to your chest as he littered your shoulder with kisses. 

At your sigh, he rolled you over, propping himself up on his elbow and yawning. Shaking his hand free from your own, he stroked the back of a finger along your cheek, and leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. As his hand settled on the side of your neck instead, yours slipped up to cup his jaw, and you melted into the tender love he offered you in the darkest hours. 

“What’s wrong, tesoro? Why are you awake?”

“Why are you awake?” you rebuffed, fingers lifting to comb through his hair, to push it back out of his eyes as he blinked himself a little more awake.

He shrugged, “This is about the time I’d normally go for a smoke.” He murmured, and your eyes flickered to the clock. 

You knew well enough the schedule Theo used to keep while smoking. Your timetable had slowly synched to it over the time you’d been dating. He’d wake up during the night, at some point around two, and disappear for a smoke. He’d take twenty minutes, or thirty if he bumped into Mattheo, and then he’d come back to bed. 

You didn’t mind the disturbance. Not when he’d come back slightly chilled from the night air and snuggle in close to you, wrapping himself around you.

“Actually, this is the time you’d normally come back from having a smoke, and give me my midnight kisses.”

“Is that why my girl is so restless tonight? Because I owe her some kisses?” He teased, leaning down until your noses were bumping, and you could taste the mint on his breath. Normally, he tasted like smoke, not toothpaste, and the shock of his warm lips instead of cold ones made you hum. 

The languid kisses melted the time away, his hand sliding up your shirt, sitting on your ribs and squeezing softly as he lowered himself down, covering your body with his own. Theo had always been your comfort, and your happy place. Being in his arms made you feel safe, and his kisses made you feel relaxed. As he licked his way into your mouth lazily, you anticipated the hazy blur of relaxation that usually followed when he kissed you. 

But, like usual recently, it never came. Instead, when he finally pulled back, and pecked the tip of your nose, he found you frowning, instead of smiling up at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know.” You huffed, frustrated at yourself, at your confusion and the growing irrational irritation. “It’s not the same.”

“What’s not the same, bella?”

“Your… your kisses.” Your words trailed to a whisper, knowing he wouldn't understand, and the hurt that flickered across his face made your heartbreak. 

“They’re not?”

“No. I don’t know why.” His lips curled further at the sides, and the look on his face made you want to cry. It made you hate yourself, aggressively, and if you could tear out your own heart and give it to him just to see him smile again, you would. Just another thing you’d been suffering with lately, an overwhelm of your emotions, worse than any mood swing you got when you were on your period. “It’s not you, Teddy, it’s me. You’re still my happy place, you’ve done nothing wrong. It’s me. I’m the problem.”

“You’re not a problem, bella. But we should figure it out. I don’t want to… kiss you wrong, and see that look on your face. What’s different, tell me what’s changed?” His sweet words made tears prickle at your eyes, and you sniffed sadly as you looked at him. 

“I love you so much, Theo.”

“I know, tesoro. I love you too.” His thumb smoothed over your cheek, “Tell me.”

“I don’t know!” Your snap made his eyes widen. “You’re just… different. You don’t kiss the same way, you used to get all needy when you came back from a smoke, but you don’t anymore, and you taste different! You taste like mint right now, and it just doesn’t make me feel the same way afterwards.”

Your words were jumbled and hurried, rushed out as you smoked them and his brows furrowed as he tried to decipher what you meant. Second ticked by into silent minutes as Theo’s wonderful mind ticked and whirred, thinking the problem through, and playing with the information. Then, before you could say anything else, something clicked. You could see it in his eyes, when the gears stopped turning and the thoughts stopped flowing because he’d found the answer. 

Pulling away from you, he sat up, kicking back the covers and letting in the cold air, before moving across the room and shuffling through his gym kit left in the corner. Pulling out a nicotine packet from the box inside, he shook it out, using his teeth to tear open the packet as he made his way back to the bed. Sitting yourself up, you propped yourself in the pillows as he peeled off the plastic backing, and tried to unstick his fingers from it, holding it by the corners. 

“You’ve only had your patch on for nine hours, Teddy, it’s not time to change yet.”

He clicked his tongue, shaking his head and settling in beside you on the bed, legs folded underneath himself. “This isn’t for me, bella. Take off your shirt.” 

Slipping your arm out of your shirt, you pushed it to the side, watching as Theo brushed cotton fibres off of your shoulder, before sealing the patch onto your skin. He made sure it was properly sealed down, flattening it to your skin, before feeding your arm back through the sleeve of your shirt. He smoothed the top back down your torso, pressing a cheeky kiss to your breast over your heart as he did, and sitting back on his legs to wait. 

“Give it a second, then tell me how you feel.” He whispered, the moment feeling entirely too fragile as his hand took yours, fingers linked together. He kissed along your knuckles, his eyes locked on your face, waiting. And the moment you felt it hit, you knew he saw it too. 

It was like a cool, soothing balm over a raw, aggravated wound. It felt like running cold water on a new burn or healing a painful graze with a quick Episky. “Oh, Merlin…”

“I know, tell me about it.” He mumbled, the smile on his face at victoriously solving the problem melting away as realisation set in. “Cazzo, bella, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You have a nicotine addiction, and it’s my fault. All that time you spent with me at the tower, and the smoke on me, and kissing you as soon as I finished smoking. All your moodiness these last few days—”

“Hey!”

“It’s true, baby. It all makes sense.” He rubbed a hand over his face, and squeezed your hand tighter in the other. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I quit because I didn’t want this to happen to you, I didn’t want my problems to poison you, but it’s too late.”

“Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me, Teddy.” You demand again, pulling him in, and his mouth collides with yours as he makes a subtle groan of surprise and pleasure. 

His hand gripped the headboard behind you, the other skimming down your side. As you leaned back into the pillows, you took him with you, his body falling over your own, slotting between your thighs as our hearts thudded together where his chest pressed to yours. Your hands slid over his shoulders, skimming down his back, and he moaned again as your fingernails scraped across his lower back as you tugged at his shirt. 

He sat up, letting you pull it off of him, before his arms were back, caging you in on either side as he fell back down against you. Pulling one of your legs up to sit on his hip, he dragged himself away from your mouth, trailing wet kisses down your jaw, to the pulse point on your neck and back up. 

“Merde, bella. What’s gotten into you? Not that I’m complaining.”

“You’re perfect, Theo.” You smiled, leaning up to steal more kisses from his lips that he was happy to reciprocate, “You’re perfect, your kisses are perfect. I knew it was me, not you. I was the problem.”

“A problem I gave you,” He groaned, his hips rolling against your own as you giggled breathlessly. 

“Yeah, whatever. Now we’re quitting together. That’s the promise we made, we do everything together, right?”

“Damn right, tesoro.” He growled, teeth nipping at the underside of your jaw, as he began to make his way down your body. Your fingers were loose in his hair, settling back in the pillows, eyes slipping closed as he kissed along the insides of your thighs, teasingly. Finally, your body could relax, no longer tense and buzzing, but the foggy comfort of the night made your muscles ease into the bed, your body feeling heavy, and you sighed in bliss. 

Theo mumbled something, and you let your legs fall a little further apart, but your grip on consciousness was falling further and further away as the nicotine coursed through your body, finally letting you ease into sleep you’d missed for days.

“Bella,” Theo said, his voice sharper, and you stirred, working hard to force your eyes open, but they’d only made it halfway. His hair was ruffled, eyes wide and lips swollen, but his smirk melted away from his face into a tender smile as he looked down at you. 

“Sorry, what’d you say, baby?” The words slurred out of you, and he chuckled. His fingers unhooked from the sides of your shorts, and he leaned over to kiss your forehead. “M’sorry, I’m so sleepy all of a sudden.”

“S’okay, bella. Never apologise. C’mere, let’s just cuddle.”

Tucking your body into his, you shuffled your hips back into him, and he threw his leg over yours as he held you tight to his body. “You’re hard.”

“It’ll go down, don’t worry.” He snickered, kissing the back of your head. “S’your fault anyway.”

“Sorry…” You whispered, again, sleepily. “I’ll make it up t’you t’morrow.”

“Go to sleep, amore.”

But you’d already drifted off.

It was just as you were closing your History of Magic book, that Theo announced his presence in the common room as he walked in alongside Mattheo. They were loud, and raucous, and thankfully, you were less inclined to bite their heads off for it today. 

In fact, alongside Enzo, you’d been able to catch up on all of the History homework you’d been missing out on for the last week or so, getting you back on track for at least one of your subjects. 

“Patch change time, bella!” Theo announced, making his way over to you as he untucked his shirt and began to undo the buttons down the front. Tugging the tie out of the way, he crashed down ungracefully onto the couch beside you, Mattheo nudging Draco to move up so he could sit down too. 

This had become a regular part of your routine now, and you pushed the edges of his half-unbuttoned shirt aside to reveal the patch sitting on the middle of his left pectoral. Picking at one corner, you peeled it away gently, careful not to tug on his skin as you did, and Theo watched on adoringly in silence as you took care of him. Unwrapping a new patch, you brushed off the spot, before sticking a new patch onto him and smoothing down the bandage. 

He patted it himself, before doing a couple of the buttons on his shirt back up for modesty, as though he hadn't already given half of the common room a show, before he leaned in to peck your lips. His fingers fell to the buttons of your shirt, and he began to undo them slowly. “Your turn.”

He undid just enough to reveal your shoulder, without letting anyone else catch a glimpse of anything underneath, and as he leaned down to begin peeling away the old patch, you caught Enzo’s confused expression. 

“Why are you wearing a patch?” He asked, and Theo laughed to himself quietly as he changed your old one out. 

“Because loverboy here got me addicted too, through kisses and secondary smoke.”

The others burst out laughing, unfettered by your glaring as they made kissy sounds and crude remarks, while Theo buttoned your shirt back up. Your glare turned to him as you caught sight of his smile, and he shrugged, a lopsided smile on his lips. “What can I say, bella? I’m just that good.”

“Oh, shut it,” You smacked his chest, and he took your hand, tugging you forward to cuddle you into his chest as he kissed your temple. 

“I happen to think it’s adorable that as a by-product of how you got addicted, that means you were addicted to me.”

“Mhmm.” Your eyes rolled, and he squeezed you even tighter. 

“You had me addicted to you without any substances at all, bella. Just you.”

“Alright,” You scoff, “Stop sweet-talking me.”

“Never.”

[likeumeanit9497]

| after hours c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: chris practically begs his best friend to massage his back, but after an awkward discovery, y/n finds it difficult to keep her hands -- and her eyes -- on the job.

warnings: smut; established friendship; oral (m/f receiving); fingering; hand job; squirting; unprotected p in v; dirty talk(!!!!); 18+

notes: whew! long time no see! life has been putting me through the absolute ringer lately! i haven't felt like a real person in months! i still don't tbh! im working on it! but i have absolutely missed writing and tumblr and u all so much! pls forgive my absence on here i literally haven't even been able to open this app since october when my life went south. my semester is over now so i have one major thing off my plate, so im hoping i can be a bit more consistent with writing. I MISSED U ALL SO SO SO SO MUCH and i hope u enjoy this chrissy one shot that i started months ago and just finally finished it today. love u all <33333

“No Chris.” I chuckled, standing up from my couch and walking to my kitchen to put away our leftover dinner. “Please,” I heard him whine behind me, “My back is killing me Y/n.” I turned around, facing my best friend still sitting on the couch where I left him. I laughed at his fake expression of misery, and the hand pressed to his lower back was a nice touch. “Chris, you know I’ve made it a rule not to massage my friends in my free time.” I explained, putting my hands on my hips. He groaned dramatically. “But why? You have all your stuff in the next room!” He began standing up from the couch, being sure to make it seem like a painful struggle.

He was right. I was a licensed massage therapist, and had recently started my own practice from the comfort of my home. I had turned my den into a massage room, fully equipped with a massage table, calming music, and essential oils. But I had made it clear to all of my friends — especially Chris — that I wasn’t going to massage them after-hours. Of course, I would treat them free of charge, but they had to book during normal hours. I was brand new in this career, and I wanted to ensure professionalism right from the start.

“You already know why.” I replied, turning away from him and opening up the fridge to put away my leftovers. As I leaned down into the fridge, I gasped as I suddenly felt a hand press against my lower back. “Just right here.” Chris whispered behind me, circling his thumb along my lower back. “It’ll only take five minutes.” I shuddered at the sound of his voice and the feeling of his touch. Chris had a habit of turning on his sex appeal when he needed something from me, and even though him and I were only friends, it unfortunately worked.

I turned around and closed the fridge, coming face to face with my friend. His eyebrows were knit together in what I could only assume was faux pain, because there was a playful smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. Sighing, I ran a hand through my hair before pointing at the closed french doors leading to my massage room. “Go in there, take off your shirt and lay on the bed. Call me in when you’re under the sheet.”

A smile consumed his entire face, and before I could change my mind he walked over to the room and shut the door behind him.

Chris’s POV:

As I shut the door of the massage room behind me, I stood for a moment to take in the room. She had never let me in the room before, in fact she made it known that she considered it separate from her home and so she didn’t like going into it when she wasn’t working. I always joked around with her because of that, asking her if it was really a secret torture room, but as I saw it for the first time, I couldn’t help but smile. It was professional, but still had personal touches that made it clear that it was hers.

The lights were dim, enough to see clearly but dark enough that everything had a blurry haze to it. It smelled like that shit she diffuses in her bedroom — I think she told me once that it was lavender or something. I noticed the various candles dotted around the room, and took it upon myself to light a few of them. As I lit the last candle on the small table beside the bed, I noticed an old phone connected to a small speaker. Finding that the phone didn’t have a password, I opened it and hit play on the playlist that showed up first, smiling at the title: music that makes strangers fall into my bed.

I chuckled to myself. Not so professional, sweetheart.

Typical spa music filled the small space, and I couldn’t lie, it did add to the meditative atmosphere of the room. Looking at the massage table in the middle of the room, I remembered what I was actually in there for and felt a wave of excitement hit me. I hadn’t been lying when I told her that my back had been hurting — not exactly, at least — but I had definitely been exaggerating. The truth was, I just really wanted to see what her hands could do. Not wanting to waste any more time, I took of my clothes and climbed onto the table, slipping my lower half under the thin white sheet.

“Y/n!” I shouted, “I’m all set!”

Y/n’s POV:

From my place at the kitchen counter, I heard Chris’s voice and my stomach did a flip. I wasn’t sure why I was so nervous, I had given a few of my other friends massages before, but for some reason I had been dreading the idea of giving one to Chris. Maybe it was because him and I had such a playful relationship, and I was so used to being professional with my clients, I couldn’t quite envision how combining my two personalities would go. Still, I took a deep breath and headed for the room.

Once I opened the door, I noticed the candles were lit and soft music was already playing. Looking at Chris, laying face down on the table, I chuckled. “I see you made yourself comfortable.” I remarked. Heading towards him, I noticed the pile of his clothes on the floor, including his sweats and boxers. “Uh Chris,” I began, stopping at the top of his head, “I said you only had to take off your shirt, remember?” He lifted his head from the table, looking up at me briefly. “I know. It’s just that the pain goes pretty low down my back and I figured it would be easier to just take everything off.” There was a playful look in his eyes. “It’s what I’ve seen them do in the movies.” He added softly, making me chuckle.

“It does make it easier,” I replied, moving so that I was now standing on his right side. “It’s really just about what you’re comfortable with.” As I spoke, I began running my hands down his back, from his shoulders down to his tail bone, to check for any tightness. He remained silent underneath me as I applied pressure on certain areas. “So, you said right here is sore?” I asked, pressing down on the same spot that he had when demonstrating on me. I heard a muffled hiss and watched as he nodded his head. “And the pain kind of shoots down to here.” He added, awkwardly moving his arm behind him and trailing it from where my thumb was down to just below the white sheet.

I hummed in acknowledgment, pumping the bottle of massage oil beside me and rubbing it in my hands. “Okay, I’ll get started. Let me know if the pressure is too much.” I said the same thing that I said to all of my clients robotically, before working against his muscle. It was pretty tight, but definitely not as bad as he was making it seem before on the couch. Like I do with my other clients, I stayed silent to encourage him to relax against my pressure. A few groans of pain fell from his lips as I worked, but he encouraged me to keep going each time I asked if he was okay.

I noticed him shuffle a few times under the sheet. “Are you uncomfortable?” I asked him softly, wondering if maybe the massage table was too hard. “N-no, I’m fine.” Was his reply, and even though there was a slightly panicked edge to his voice, I took his word for it and continued working my hands lower down on his back. I felt my cheeks grow hot as my hands pulled the white sheet lower to gain access to his pain. I had never seen this much of Chris’s body before, and even though I was trying to be professional, I felt like the act was a little too intimate.

I rushed to finish up, and after about fifteen minutes I was satisfied that the knot in his back had improved. “Alright, I think I’m done. Want to flip onto your back for me?” I asked, pulling the sheet up slightly. “W-why?” Chris asked, his tone filled with alarm. “I usually finish every session with a neck massage. Sometimes the neck gets stiff from the way it lays when you’re on your stomach.” I replied. “Oh, uh, it’s okay.” He replied, refusing to move. I rolled my eyes. “What? Not even 30 minutes ago you were begging me for a massage, and now you’re turning it down?” I crossed my arms and moved over to his head, “Come on, turn over. It won’t take long.” I reassured him.

He sighed, and, holding onto the edge of the sheet, slowly turned over. I stifled a gasp, because between his legs, the thin white sheet had tented, and I could clearly see the outline of his erection. I was thrown off, unable to take my eyes away from it, but quickly recovered — clearing my throat and dropping my eyes to his face. His eyes were still closed and his cheeks were flushed; I could tell he was embarrassed. In a normal circumstance, I would think that I would have made a joke about it, and he would have just told me to shut up. But at that moment, there was something so real about his exposure and humiliation, and so I knew that I would just ignore it.

I began massaging his neck, trying to focus on my actions and regain my professionalism. But, I couldn’t stop looking at the white sheet; it being the only thing between his cock and my eyes. I could tell that it was huge, and I watched as it grew harder and harder as I continued working his neck. It went from standing straight up and wobbling in the air as Chris breathed, to being pressed right against his front. The sheet draped around it, perfectly outlining its girth, and I could see a small bead of dampness taint the sheet a translucent shade of white at its tip. My mouth watered and my mind wandered. I felt my own body begin to react to the sight in front of me, and the tension in the room began to grow so heavy that I began to gasp for air.

“I-is the pressure okay?” I asked, doing my very best to keep my voice strong as I worked his neck. I watched his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed nervously before nodding his head. “It’s good, Y/n.” His reply was so simple, but there was something about the gruff undertone, the almost indiscriminate breathlessness as he said my name, that caused my knees to weaken and my throat to turn into a desert. Suddenly, I could no longer hear the soft music playing throughout the room as my blood pumped deafeningly in my ears. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from his bulge for more than a few seconds at a time — it seemed so hard that it had to be painful. My eyes continued to flutter between his flushed face and pulsing member until suddenly, when my eyes returned to his face, his bright blue eyes were wide open and staring right at me.

I felt a new wave of heat crawl up my face at the fact that I had just been caught red-handed staring at the one thing in this room that both of us had been actively ignoring. I opened my mouth to attempt to explain myself, but his words beat me to it. “I’m sorry.” He murmured sheepishly, his face turning the same shade of red that I imagined mine to be as he squeezed his eyes shut. Immediately, I began shaking my head rapidly. Partially as a reassurance to him and partially as an attempt at erasing the last two minutes of my life. “No! Don’t be sorry. It happens all the time.” I rushed out, doing my best to make light of the situation. “No it doesn’t.” He replied flatly, with a hint of disbelief in his voice. I forced a chuckle. “Okay fine, it doesn’t happen all the time. But its not not normal.” I tried again, brushing a soft curl out of his face.

Chris was silent for a moment, his eyes still squeezed shut in either embarrassment or concentration. I had stopped massaging his neck, but my hands were still on his damp skin; my thumbs drawing gentle circles against his rapid pulse. After a moment, an exasperated sigh fell from his lips. “It won’t go away.” He said, his voice laced with genuine disgust. “I’m sorry Y/n, this is creepy.” A forced laugh, then another sigh.

The room fell silent again as I tried to find the right words to fill the space. Words that would reassure him more genuinely than more “it’s okay’s”. Because, from the way my pulse had quickened, and from the way my core had grown so slick from arousal that I could feel it dripping steadily onto my panties, it really was okay. It was more than okay. So, instead of trying to find the words that could possibly portray just how okay it was, I leaned down and pressed my lips to his.

I felt him tense at the first brush of my lips against his, clearly shocked by the sudden close proximity of our mouths; closer than they had ever been before. So, I pulled away for a moment, finding his piercing eyes to search them for whatever thought is running in his mind. They were wild, racing across my face trying to make sense of what just happened. But there was something else there, something erotic that was blurring the line between right and wrong. Between professionalism and spontaneity. Between friends that fuck around and friends that fuck. I could tell that we were both balancing on that same fine line, but when I brought my lips back down to his, and when he opened his mouth to welcome mine with the kind of hunger than can never be satiated, I knew that we both came to the same conclusion.

Our lips moulded together in rhythmic wonder as our tongues explored each other. Immediately, I felt his body relax as his hands reached up and wrapped themselves in my hair. A soft moan of satisfaction fell from his lips as I nibbled on his bottom lip, causing my body to react in a way that was foreign to me. I felt goosebumps raise up across my skin as if his hands were all over it. He pulled his lips from mine and used his grip on my hair to tilt my head to the side, giving his swollen lips access to my neck. He sucked and nibbled against my electric skin just below my ear, and I felt as though I could fall apart and dissolve into a puddle just from that. “L-let me make you feel better.” I managed to moan out through the waves of pleasure I was feeling. My eyes wouldn’t leave the rock hard bulge under the white sheet, just barely out of my reach. Chris groaned against my neck at my words, and I watched as his cock twitched under the sheet as if it heard my words itself and was begging me to help it.

After another moment of Chris devouring my neck, tasting every inch of it as if he couldn’t get enough, his grip on my hair loosened and he allowed me to straighten up. I looked down at his face, now even more flushed than before. His lips had gone bright pink and were so beautifully swollen from their journey against my skin. His chest was rising and falling rapidly and, after a short moment, his eyes fluttered open and landed on me. “You sure you want to do this?” He asked, his voice slightly tentative, and I knew what he meant.

A kiss between friends is one thing. It can be brushed off as a slight moment of weakness, can be something that the two friends can one day laugh about as they look back on their friendship. It can be never spoken of again, can be hidden from their other friends deep in the vault of the minds of the two people that shared it. But anything more than that, any other touching, or licking, or exploring of the other person is not as easily ignorable. In friendships there is deep love and strong understanding of the other person. Once that love and understanding collides with the act of literally merging together, of being as physically close to another that you can be in this lifetime, it’s not so easy to ignore. My mind may not be able to shut out the events that transpire with Chris tonight ever again. We may never be able to chalk it all up to a moment of weakness, or keep it a secret from our mutual friends. We may never have the same friendship we had before I agreed to this massage. But there is no way to know that for sure. What I did know for sure in that moment, with Chris staring up at me with eyes filled with intoxicating desire, with my own body vibrating with lust, was that I wanted this.

So without a word, I walked down his body towards his beckoning cock. I took a moment to just gaze at it, closer to it now than I had been all night. I rested a hand on his thigh hidden beneath the sheet, and watched as his cock once again twitched. I chewed on my bottom lip in an attempt to keep myself from moaning just from the sight, and after a moment let my eyes flutter back up to his face. “I’m sure Chris.” I replied softly, searching his expression. “Are you?” I asked, realizing that he was likely considering the same potential outcome that I had been. He kept my gaze for a brief moment, his eyes focusing on different parts of my face. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.” He replied finally, a cheeky smile growing on his face. I felt my own expression mirror his own, and without wasting another second I began peeling the thin sheet down his waist.

My smile fell the moment his bare cock was finally exposed, and was replaced by what I knew was the expression of desperate hunger. His length was impressively long, and I felt my mouth water at the thought of running my tongue along its veins up to its swollen head. Reaching to my left, I pumped some massage oil into my hand. I brought my cupped hand above his upright cock and let the oil drip between my fingers and coat him. He released a sharp hiss at the feeling of the oil as it trailed down his length towards his base, and I watched as his hips thrust forward desperately from the barely-there contact. A bead of pre-cum suddenly dripped from his slit, and I used my thumb to collect it before finally pumping my hand up and down his shaft. Immediately, a deep moan fell from Chris’s lips as I worked his oiled cock in my hand. I focused on his body language as I adjusted my movements to figure out exactly what he needed to feel good.

When I went slow, I watched his breath grow steady, telling me that I should pick up the pace. When I used a softer touch as I moved along his cock his hands would stay relaxed at his side, but I knew he liked it when I used a bit more pressure along his tip as his hands would tighten into fists against the sheet. But when I used both hands, twisting in opposite directions with the occasional brush against his balls with my pinky, I discovered that was what he liked most of all. A deep grunt followed by a moan fell from his lips, and his right hand flew to my upper thigh; where he gripped so hard I was sure that he would leave a bruise. “Fuck, Y/n.” He breathed out as I continued with these movements.

His hand traveled further and further up my leg until his fingers slipped under my loose-fitting shorts. I continued to stroke him with both hands, even when I felt the tip of his fingers just milimetres from my trembling core. They brushed against the ever-so-soft place between my pelvis and my pussy, and I bit back a moan. Subconsciously, I adjusted myself so that my legs were wider apart; giving him access to touch even more of me. My hands continued to work his cock as his fingers inched closer and closer, before finally, I felt the very tip of just one of his fingers reach my core and dip into its warmth. My knees buckled at the barely-there contact just as he released a muffled moan. “Jesus fuck, Y/n,” My eyes flew to his face and the translucent arousal that I found all across it was almost enough to push me over the edge. “Put that on my face right fucking now.”

His demand was so jarring, his voice so gritty and raw, that I didn’t hesitate before peeling my shorts down my legs, lifting myself onto the massage chair, and straddling his face. Immediately, his hands gripped onto my thighs and pulled them apart; giving his eyes untethered access to my glistening core. “You’re fucking soaked.” His words came out in an almost-whisper, as if he hadn’t actively planned on speaking them aloud. Still, they shot straight to my lust and I leaned forward, resting my head against his chest to allow him to see even more of me.

I gasped as I felt his thumb against my slit, collecting my arousal. I heard a wet sound and then another deep moan. “So good.” He whispered before suddenly his warm mouth was suctioned to my clit. Immediately, I dissolved into a puddle of desire as his tongue swirled and licked against my sensitive bundle of nerves. Moans fell from my lips as my brain turned to mush from the relief of finally having his mouth on me. I began moving my hips against his face, chasing a high that I so desperately needed. Satisfied moans slipped from his mouth into me, and I felt a sharp slap against my ass cheek that added to my intense need.

I had turned into nothing more than a dead weight on top of him, his lethal tongue paralyzing me. But as I opened my mouth to release a guttural moan, I felt my lip brush against the tip of his cock. Without a second thought, I slipped his cock into my mouth and began pumping up and down. Another moan fell from Chris, vibrating against my clit and causing me to moan around his girth. “Fuck.” Chris muttered against me, and I responded by deep throating his cock until my nose pressed against his bare thigh. “Mmmm, Y/n.” Chris breathed, removing his mouth from my clit. I stopped my movements as well, waiting on shaky legs for him to continue.

“If you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum.” He began, gently running his knuckles against my ass cheek. “And I don’t want to do that yet.” He slipped two fingers into my core effortlessly, causing me to immediately begin rocking against them. “Mmm. Thatta girl.” He breathed, presumably watching for a moment as I rode his fingers just inches above his face. “What I want you to do is focus on making a mess all over my face, then after that I want to cum with these tight walls wrapped around me.” His words caused my eyes to roll to the back of my head, and a sharp moan fell from my lips. “Sound good?” He asked, his voice muffled as he reattached his mouth to my throbbing clit. I nodded my head maniacally as he resumed his impressive movements against my nerves. He kept his fingers inside of me, and as I slid my soaked cunt against his face, I cried out at the added sensation of his fingers filling me.

“Fuck C-Chris.” I moaned, my words nearly incomprehensible as I grew closer and closer to my climax. He could tell that I was quickly approaching, and tightened his grip on my ass cheek with his free hand; pressing my cunt so hard against his face I was afraid that he would suffocate. “G-gonna cum!” I warned him just before the tumultuous waves of my orgasm took over. My body began shaking as I came hard against his face. I had never before felt so out of control of my own body, and relished in the feeling as my back arched and a plethora of moans fell from my mouth. I felt a gush as I squirted against Chris’s mouth, and trembled at the guttural moan he released as he began lapping me up.

Once my mind reattached to my body and my orgasm had finishing ripping through me, I rested my head against his stomach as he ran his hands along my tense back and dropped gentle kisses against my sensitive core. He let me lie there on top of him for a few moments, catching my breath and slowing my heart rate, before gently lifting my limp body off of him and sliding off of the massage table. I sat up on the edge of the table, facing his standing figure before me, and my gaze landed on his excruciatingly hard cock. He grabbed my chin and lifted my head up before pressing his wet lips harshly against mine. He tasted like me, and immediately a new wave of arousal filled my core.

As his tongue flicked into my mouth, I reached between our bodies and began stroking his cock. He thrusted into my hand instinctively, and a moan fell from his lips as his hand shot to my core where he drew torturously slow circles against my over-stimulated clit. Caught up in how good we were making the other feel, our kissing slowed and our mouths eventually turned into matching O’s; eyes shut in pure bliss. I dropped my forehead against his bare chest, and watched as our hands worked on the other’s body, slowly working up the nerve to do the one thing we hadn’t yet done with each other.

“You still want to do this?” Chris asked, his voice strained. I jolted slightly at his words, shocked at the fact that he seemed to be reading my mind. A sharp wave of pleasure hit me from his fingers and I moaned softly before looking back up at him. “Mhmm.” I breathed, meaning it. “Do you?” I asked in return as I felt his cock jump in my hand. “So much.” He replied before lowering his head and planting another deep, wet kiss against my mouth. After a moment, he grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and pulled it over my head. He took a moment to admire my bare chest before kissing each of my painfully pebbled nipples. “God, you’re unreal Y/n.” He moaned, running firm hands against my completely naked frame. I arched my back against his touch and shut my eyes blissfully.

He leaned forward and ran his tongue along my collar bone. “You ready?” He asked. I felt his hand replace mine on his shaft, and bit my lip as I felt him line the head up with my soaked core. He used his free hand to hold firmly onto my lower back, and I wrapped my legs around his waist; using the grip to press him against me. “I’m ready.” I replied breathlessly, looking up at him through my eyelashes. Without wasting a second, Chris kept his glazed eyes on mine as he slowly pressed his hips into me. My jaw dropped as his girth stretched my walls out further than I thought possible, and the intoxicating mix of pleasure and pain that can not truly be described with words turned my brain into mush.

Chris hissed as he bottomed out in me, his cock taking up every inch of my cunt. He remained still as he rested his forehead against mine, his breath erratic and hitched. “Fuck.” He finally groaned out, his body more tense than I’d ever seen it. “You okay?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his neck. He nodded. “I’m gonna cum in, like, record speed here Y/n.” He replied, taking deep breaths and keeping his forehead pressed to mine. I couldn’t help but chuckle. “It’s okay Chris,” I replied, running my hands through his hair. “Just give me what you’ve got.”

My last seductive whisper seemed to give him the motivation to power through, because immediately he snapped his hips into me. I released a sharp moan from the depth of his movements, and that was enough to bring him fully back into it. Using the grip he had on my lower back, he plowed into me relentlessly. My eyes were rolled into the back of my head as I felt my walls stretch with each thrust; allowing him to hit my g-spot each time. “Jesus!” I cried out, gripping onto his shoulders in a weak attempt at holding onto my sanity.

“You’re so f-fucking tight.” Chris groaned into my shoulder as he continued to drive his ruthless cock into me. The room filled with the sounds of our bodies smacking against each other, adding to the indescribable arousal I was filled with. Chris’s hands began travelling all across my body, taking his time on my tits as his thumbs drew circles around my hardened nipples. He gave my tits a harsh squeeze before travelling down my stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps on my skin as he reached my clit and began rubbing it in rhythm with his thrusts. “God, keep going baby.” I moaned, wrapping my legs even tighter around Chris’s waist, “F-feels s-so good!” I cried just as Chris lifted me up off the table and slammed me into the wall. I released a sharp gasp from the shock, but as he continued pounding into me, my pleasure was intensified.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Chris growled as he nibbled against the skin on my neck. “You always this fucking wet?” His dirty words make my head spin. “N-no. I’m n-not.” I reply honestly, feeling my juices spread all over his front. A wicked smile covers his face. “Just for me then, huh?” His tone was arrogant, but there was an undertone of overwhelming arousal in it that told me he needed it to be true. I nodded my head rapidly. “Y-yes Chris! O-only this wet f-for y-you.” I managed to reply just before my second orgasm swept in and overtook me.

Just as I began riding my high — my nails digging into his skin and my mouth sputtering out profanities — Chris stilled inside of me and released a ragged “Oh fuck!”. I felt his cock pulse inside of me, painting my walls with his warm seed as my orgasm milked him dry. He released soft grunts against my neck as he rode through his own high, and I relished in the feeling of his cum as it dripped from my cunt.

After a while, both of our bodies relaxed and we rested against one another as we caught our breath. I waited for the overwhelming feeling of regret to wash over me, as one would expect it to after fucking your best friend, but it never came. In fact, I was so relaxed in that post-sex liminal space, pressed against the wall with Chris’s softening cock resting in my core, that I almost couldn’t believe that we had never done that before.

I was pulled from that thought by Chris placing a deeply passionate kiss to my lips. There was no lust, no untethered desire attached to it; it was almost as though this kiss was the end of one chapter of our lives and the beginning of a new, more exciting one. Our lips moved in slow motion, as if we had kissed like this a thousand times. With his lips still on mine, Chris slowly helped me down so my feet were on the ground. After another moment of our mouths merged as one, I pulled away and was immediately wrapped in a hug. Chris’s warm body felt so familiar, even more familiar than before, and I closed my eyes and took in the moment, as I knew it was the start of something new.

“Well, I think we have some things we should figure out,” Chris said, and I felt a soft chuckle against my head tucked into his chest. “Because I don’t know about you, but there is no way I can go the rest of my life without doing that again.” It was my turn to laugh, and I pulled myself out of his arms and looked up at his face. “I think I am officially under your spell.” I replied, feigning a smile. “Let’s go sit down and figure this all out.” I grabbed my discarded shirt and threw it over my head before walking towards my living room. “Oh by the way Y/n,” Chris grabbed me by my waist from behind as we walked through the door, “My back feels great now, in case you were curious.” I rolled my eyes with a smile and continued walking. “You have magical hands.” He whispered, and all I could do was laugh and give him a half-hearted shove.

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[no-144444]

total wipe out- l.norris

summary: lando has a chance encounter that changes his life

pairing: lando norris x fem! single mom! reader

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Lando had a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. This time, his skiing holiday had turned into a disaster when he fucking ran over a child. Impressive, I know. The second he did it he slowed down and started to book it back to the kid who was probably sobbing crying (he’d hit it at full force). 

“Are you alright?!” he stressed, picking up the kid (who had been stuck in the snow). 

And the fucker was giggling. 

“That was fun!” he cheered, clapping his hands. “Do it again!” 

Did he have brain damage? Did he just give a child fucking brain damage? 

“Alex!” you shouted, stopping beside the two of them. “Are you alright?” you asked, taking him in your arms and checking him over. 

“I’m fine mommy! I had so much fun!”

You stared at your son, unimpressed. The mini heart attack you’d just had was all for nothing. “You’re a weird fucking kid,” you mumbled under your breath, making Lando laugh. You turned to him. “I am so sorry about him, I always tell him to stay by me, but he doesn’t listen-”

Lando chuckled, holding a hand up to stop you. “I am almost sure it was my fault, so I am very sorry. I hope he’s alright and I didn’t give him brain damage or something.”

You laughed. “Let’s hope not,” you smiled. “Sorry again.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry too.”

And with that, you and Alex skated off. 

“What the fuck was that?!” Max shouted, coming up beside him with Pietra hot on his tail. “YOU JUST WIPED OUT A KID!” 

Lando rolled his eyes. Max, ever the pessimist. 

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As he sat in his cabin, just finished winning a game of poker, he sighed, thinking of you and Alex. Obviously, Lando hadn’t seen anything other than your hair (which he thought was gorgeous), and your eyes when you’d lifted your sunglasses to look over Alex. You had hauntingly beautiful eyes, and he was slightly upset with himself that he hadn’t tried to chat with you longer. You were sweet, kind, funny, beautiful (he just knew you were gorgeous). He wanted to know more. 

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Hanging around the same slope as yesterday in hopes of seeing you there was probably not his best idea, but alas, his dumb plan worked. He saw the familiar dinosaur helmet on the 4 year olds head, and he smiled when he noticed Alex whizzing up to him. 

“Alex!” he cheered, watching him come down the mountain, a bright smile on his face. 

Alex walked over and wrapped his arms around Lando’s legs. “Did you see?” he questioned, looking up at him. 

Lando’s heart ached, he adored children. Alex was definitely not helping his raging baby fever. “I did bud! That was awesome.”

“Are you a professional skier?” he asked.

“No,” Lando smiled, kneeling down to meet his eyes. Your eyes, just smaller. “But I am a professional athlete.”

“What sport?!” he asked, his eyes going wide. “My favourite sport is Formula One, but I like all sports anyway.”

“Who’s your favourite driver?” Lando asked, suppressing a smirk as he took his balaclava down. 

“Lando Norris!” he cheered, jumping up and down. 

Lando finally took off his goggles and Alex’s jaw dropped. “Holy shit!” he almost shouted, making Lando laugh. 

“Alex!” you scolded, walking over to him. “What did we say about bad words?” 

“Momma look, he’s Lando Norris!” Alex cheered, pulling on your jacket. 

“Holy shit,” you mumbled, looking at him. “Hi, I’m Y/n, and this is Alex,” you introduced. “We meet again.”

He smiled. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“Do you mind if Alex gets a picture with you? You’re his favourite driver,” you asked, trying to sound less awkward than it felt. 

“Of course, I’d love to,” Lando smiled, more than happy to get in a photo with him. Alex stood up beside him, hugging him, as Lando smiled wide and bright. You quickly snapped a picture and thanked him. 

“Momma, can we go again?” Alex asked, pointing at the top of the mountain. 

“We should probably head in for dinner darling,” you said. Alex frowned. “You’re hungry, I know you’re hungry.”

Alex huffed. “I want to go again though.”

“We’ll go again tomorrow,” you smiled, patting his back. 

“Alright,” he smiled. “Bye bye Lando!” 

“Thanks again,” you smiled at him. 

“I’m heading in too now,” he said. “Mind if I join you guys?”

You stared at him for a second. “Um, yeah, sure,” you smiled. “Of course.”

Alex beamed and held Lando’s hand as you all walked back to the resort. 

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Dinner was just listening to Alex ask Lando questions about his life, about the cars, about everything. It was cute, and Lando was so willing to listen to every question, and adequately answer them. As dinner went on, you noticed the way he kept looking over at you, soft, sweet, staring that didn’t make you uncomfortable. And when he was the one carrying Alex back up to your hotel room, and wishing him sweet dreams, he didn’t mind it. 

“Thanks for everything today, you’ve definitely made his year,” you chuckled. 

“It was nice to meet you guys. Alex is a lovely kid,” he nodded, but there was still something unsaid. He wanted to ask for your number, but didn’t want to overstep, and he could feel the tension between you two. “I’m just going to say this, and you can totally say no and I’ll back off but could I get your number?”

You stared at him. “Is that a joke?” you asked, unsure. 

“Oh shit, are you married? Fuck I didn’t know-”

“No, no! I’m not. It’s just… you’re… y’know, and I’m not. I’m a single mom and you’re a racecar driver.”

He shrugged. “And? I really like you, and Alex.”

“Be realistic Lando, what would people say?” 

“That I’ve got a very hot and sweet girlfriend and a cute stepson?” he smirked and you playfully pushed him. 

“You can have my number, but I’m not promising any of that,” you chuckled, grabbing your phone.

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Australian GP. First race of the season. 

And you were sitting in Lando’s hotel room before he had to go to the track. How your life had changed in the past few months. You were officially dating an F1 driver, you’d been to Monaco a lot, Lanod had visited London a lot, and you were happy. Alex adored Lando, they literally went on day trips together without you (Lando says it’s so you can have time with your friends, but you know it’s just because he wants to hang out with him). 

“You ready to go, bud?” Lando knocked on the door of the hotel bathroom, trying to get Alex out of there. 

“Almost, just need to wash my hands!” he answered. 

“You ready?” he asked, turning to you and pressing a kiss to your cheek. He was excited. Extremely so, to have you in his garage and to show you off to the world. 4 months of dating hardly seemed enough, but he had convinced you anyway. 

You nodded and took a deep breath, slightly terrified for this weekend. 

“You’ll do great,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against him. “Everything will be alright.”

You nodded and smiled, taking his hand instead as Alex came out of the bathroom. “All finished mom,” he smiled and took your hand. 

Lando stopped you two and smiled. “Pre-race weekend selfie?” he smiled bashfully. You smiled back at him and lifted up Alex, all three of you posing for the photo. “Perfect,” he smiled, looking at the photo, then kissing your cheek. 

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navigation for my blog :)

mclaren masterlist

[joelslastofus]

[SUMMARY: Joel struggles to fight temptation with Sarah’s bestfriend after he’s forced to share a bed with her.]

Smut dry humping 18+

He knew it was best to sleep in his jeans, at least the heavy material would do better at hiding a boner he knew he would get.

Winter vacation with the Millers was something you had been looking forward to for the past month. Sarah and you were on break from college and had been best friends since high school. The two of you always planned vacations together and this time her dad and uncle were apart of the plans. A road-trip to Colorado to stay at a cabin and go skiing, you were so excited. The ride was about twelve hours long but you loved road-trips so you were perfectly fine with the time it would take to get there.

“Everybody packed?” Joel came out putting the last few bags on the back of his truck as Sarah came out in a panic.

“Shoot! I forgot to leave my work keys at the job”

“Doesn’t someone else have em?” Joel asked confused.

“Sidney is off and I was suppose to leave them for Matt, they’ll kill me. I’m so stupid”

“Alright relax-“ Tommy came in to the recuse as he usually did.

“I gotta drive by your job anyways and pick up a couple things, we’ll stop by your job and then continue heading to Colorado”

Sarah jumped up and down in relief.

“Oh uncle Tommy, you’re a savior”

“So I’ve been told” he shrugged with a chuckle.

“So what are we doin’?” Joel asked as you stood silently waiting for a plan.

“Sarah and I will go do what we gotta do and you and her can get a head start so we don’t miss our check in at the cabin”

“You want me to go with your dad?” You attempted to whisper to Sarah as he looked over at you.

“Yeah cause remember we booked the cabin under our names so me or you need to at least be there for check in” Sarah explained. Joel tried to hide his look of disapproval. Of course it wasn’t that he didn’t want to be around you, it was more so that he knew he shouldn’t be, especially alone.

“Alright well let’s get goin’” Tommy jumped in his truck as Sarah followed while you got in the car with Joel.

The drive was slightly awkward at first, being that Joel wasn’t much of a talker. His body felt tense as he drove, sneaking a glance at you as you looked out the window. You wore a jean skirt with a plain pink top, but all he could focus on was your legs.

“Mind if I put on the radio?”

He quickly looked away the second you spoke.

“Go ahead” he couldn’t help but notice your hand with red nails reach forward. God he hoped Tommy and Sarah wouldn’t take long doing what they had to do because Joel didn’t know long he could handle being alone with you.

“So are you excited?” You asked trying to make conversation.

“Course I am, been a while since I’ve gone skiing but I’m sure I still got it in me”

“Well maybe you can teach me” you spoke innocently, yet your words lingered in the air sending a shock of pleasure down his groin. He shifted in his seat as you sighed and changed the radio station not having any clue just how aroused you were making him simply by being in his presence.

Joel tried anything to get his mind off you, singing a song in his head, thinking about the last movie he saw, hell, anything to distract his mind from wandering off, especially with you right beside him. As the hours went by it helped that you had fallen asleep. Your hands folded on your lap as you leaned toward the door, Joel couldn’t help but take a slow look at you now that he could without being caught. He’d known you for a few years now but he didn’t know what the hell changed on you once you graduated high school. A simple look couldn’t hurt he convinced himself..

Not too long after, you woke up to Joel on the phone, whatever it was, you could tell he wasn’t happy about it.

“You’re kiddin’ me right?” Joel uttered low.

“Why the hell didn’t you say somethin’ earlier?” You crossed your arms sitting up wondering what was going on as he pulled over to the side of the road.

“The hell am I suppose to do now?” He continued, a few more words were said before he slammed his phone shut.

“What happened?” You spoke in a soft voice.

“Tommy’s truck broke down”

“What? We still have hours to go, where are they?”

“They’re three hours away”

“What?” You whispered confused.

It was ten at night and you had no idea where you were or what you were supposed to do.

“So now what?”

“We get a motel for the night, they’ll meet us in the mornin’-“

“A motel?“

Joel cleared his throat looking away, obvious discomfort on his face as he tried to hide how he felt about staying at a motel with you.

“Yeah, Sarah already called the cabin. We’ll make it there tomorrow” he continued to drive as you looked at the road confused.

Luckily Joel had found a motel up the road.

As soon as he entered the lobby he was clear in asking for two separate rooms or at least a room with two beds. Of course with his luck there was only one room available with one bed.

“Jesus christ” he ran his hand through his hair in frustration. With there not being another motel for another ten miles down Joel gave in and took the key.

Unlocking the door you could see how annoyed he felt, you figured it was because of delay in the trip. Pressing his lips together he looked up at you and motioned for you to walk in before him. The first sight of the bed sitting in the middle of the room you sighed as Joel stood behind you and shut the door.

“You can take the bed” he uttered low throwing his bag to the side.

“And where are you going to sleep?”

He pointed at a wooden chair in the corner of the room making you scoff.

“Don’t be ridiculous , Mr.Miller. You need proper rest, you’ve been driving for a few hours and-“

“I’ll do just fine on that chair” he insisted “and how many times do I have to tell you to just call me Joel”.

“Well, Joel, the bed is big enough for both of us, why make things harder for yourself?” you raised a brow as you took your bag and walked to the bathroom. Joel never thought he would ever find himself in a situation like this, his mind racing with things he found harder to ignore.

After changing into your pajamas you walked out of the room yawning making Joel turn to you. Instantly taken back by what you wore, an oversized t shirt that dropped down above your knees.

“The hell are you wearin’?”

“My pajamas?” You looked at him confused, his hands on his hips as he looked flustered.

“Ain’t there somethin’ else you could wear?”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” You tilted your head as he bit down on his bottom lip. There was no way Joel was going to be locked in a room with you just wearing an oversized shirt. You didn’t see anything wrong with it especially with how long it was.

“I’m gonna go get somethin’ from the truck” he uttered under his breath as he turned towards the door. Yeah, that’s what he figured he would do. Sleep in the car.

“Wait-“ you took a step forward.

“What?”

“Where are you going?”

“To my truck, I’ll sleep in the car and-“

“No!” You took another step forward.

“You can’t leave me alone in this motel…I-“

“Why not?” He furrowed his brows.

“It’s creepy and…I don’t know…I’m kinda scared to stay alone up here”

“You’re scared?” You could hear the irritation in his tone, God you were making it harder for the man to keep himself away from you.

“Yes, can you please stay”

Joel sighed looking away knowing he had no choice. He knew he couldn’t just leave you alone like that.

“Thank you” you whispered and headed to the bed.

“So what side do you prefer to sleep on?”

Joel looked up at you, clearly over the whole ordeal.

“I ain’t sleepin’ on the bed”

“You’re still going on with that? Look how big this bed is!” You took it upon yourself to choose a side and lay back.

“You know something Mr.Miller-Joel” you corrected yourself as you sat up.

“Sometimes I think you just don’t like me and I don’t know what I’ve done but whatever it is, I apologize”

Joel stood still, Jesus Christ, now he had you thinking he didn’t like you, which obviously was so very far from the truth. He cleared his throat, not exactly sure how to defend himself without being obvious how badly he actually wanted you.

“That ain’t it, sweetheart” his words were spoken softly, probably the softest he’s ever spoken to you. There was an awkward silence after that before you sighed and got under the covers.

“Well, if that’s not it, then I insist you lay on a bed to sleep. I won’t bother you I promise” he watched as you turned over and proceeded to close your eyes.

Giving in, he walked towards the bed. Still debating in his mind what he should and shouldn’t do. He knew it was best to sleep in his jeans, at least the heavy material would do better at hiding a boner he knew he would get.

“You didn’t pack pajamas?” You suddenly turned catching him off guard.

“Yeah uh-“

“Don’t tell me you’re gonna sleep with jeans on, that’s so uncomfortable” you turned back the way you were as Joel took a deep breath. Without saying a word he proceeded to change his clothes in the bathroom.

Sweats and a navy blue t shirt Joel awkwardly sat on the bed. It seemed as if you had already fallen asleep, if so, it definitely would be better for him. Laying on his back he looked at the ceiling, his knee up as he carefully tried not to move much with you beside him.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad he thought, just a few hours, make it through the night and everything would be fine, right? He couldn’t help but look over, the blanket covering your legs until you moved shifting its place on you. Now a hint of the back of your bear thighs exposed to him, he didn’t even realize he began to breathe hard. His eyes darting back and forth between the ceiling and your legs until he found it in him to reach over and attempt to cover you. Of course, just as he did you unexpectedly turned over toward him, his hand now trapped beneath the side of your thigh as you faced him.

“Shit” he whispered, his breathing becoming harder to control, a feeling of anticipation he couldn’t hide. His hand feeling your bare skin on him, he could feel the pressure in his chest when you abruptly turned away again.

God you were moving a lot, each movement taking him by surprise but now here you were with your ass poked out just inches away from his crotch area. Looking down, his hand ached to grab your waist and press himself against you. The scent of your vanilla spray filling the air, only weakening his fight. A soft sleepy moan escaping your lips making him look up, the sound you made only making his cock begin to the throb as it hardened in his pants when your phone began to buzz.

Joel quickly turned onto his back lifting the covers over him as you responded in a lazy like voice.

“Mhm. Sure…yeah…I’ll tell him” you sighed before clicking the phone off and turning to Joel.

“Sarah said-“ you stopped in your tracks noticing how fast paced his breathing was.

“Are you ok?” His knee blocking his erection as he refused to look at you.

“Joel?” You whispered.

“I’m fine” he responded in a much more aggressive tone than he meant to.

“Are…are you sure?”

He looked to you with a clenched jaw but he didn’t say a word. His mind going hazy the second he laid eyes on you, he knew he was no longer thinking straight. Joel felt like an animal was taking over him when he abruptly turned towards you and kissed you. You squealed in shock as his hand caressed the crook of your neck, he placed himself over you just before he pulled his lips away. You panted looking up at him in disbelief, how he managed to get himself between your legs so quickly you couldn’t say.

“Joel..” you whispered.

“You scared me” your words instantly setting a realization within him, regret was clear in his eyes.

“I’m sorry-“ but just before he attempted to remove himself, you gently placed your hand on his face. He closed his eyes savoring your touch, your legs adjusting around his waist allowing you to feel his fully erect member against you.

“So this is what it’s all been about…” you whispered somewhat amused as he looked away with shame.

“This ain’t right” you felt him about to move away and tightened your legs around him.

“Wait” you whispered.

“We don’t…we don’t have to do anything but you can just…just stay here” you felt yourself become aroused, the head of his cock against your pussy lips. Through his sweats you could feel the shape of him against you, your black lace underwear soaking up from your excitement. As good as it felt between your legs, Joel took a deep breath.

“I can’t” he whispered, his lips against your forehead.

“Please..” you grabbed onto his shirt wanting to feel him even closer and that’s when he slowly thrusted his hips against you. Your lips parted against his and he thrusted again and again. Your moan made him freeze in place, he wanted more. Joel lifted his body up and looked down noticing the wet stop you left him on his grey sweats, only tempting him to continue.

“I’m sorry” you whispered slightly embarrassed.

He didn’t say a word, you could see him losing the fight and angled his face back to you.

“It’s not like we’re having sex..” you whispered.

“We’re not doing anything wrong” you continued, your thumb brushing over his lips.

He needed to feel more.

With one hand leaning beside your head, he pushed himself up and pushed down his sweats along with his underwear, revealing his aching member.

“What are you doing?”

“I won’t put it in, I just-“ he proceeded to take his cock and brush it up and down between your lips, you lay silently feeling aroused like you had never felt before. Your silk underwear slowly moving aside the more he teased you, his eyes on yours as he focused on the hold he had on you.

“Just don’t-“

“I won’t” he whispered hoarsely. The feel of his cock coming into contact with your pussy, you slowly reached between you both and pulled your underwear aside giving him complete access to feel you.

“Oh, baby…I don’t know if I can stop” he panted as your body squirmed beneath him. You both wanted more, the sound of how wet your pussy was only continued to awaken the animal inside him. His eyes focused on yours when he suddenly slipped himself inside you making you gasp. He held himself feeling you throb around him, your nails digging into his shoulders.

“Joel..” you whispered, his eyes dazed.

“I’m sorry..” he whispered.

“Don’t be…. Again…please” Joel did just as you asked, sliding himself nearly all the way out before ramming himself in you once more.

“Is that what you want? Tell me” he demanded, both of his hands grabbing your face. You nodded desperately before he began moving his hips in a rhythm against you, again and again and again. The bed squeaking loudly the faster he moved.

“Fuck” you moaned as he aggressively pulled his shirt over his head with one hand before sliding his other hand under your ass and lifting you up closer against him. Joel didn’t give a shit if what he was doing in that moment wasn’t wrong and neither did you. You felt better than he could imagine, your tight wet cunt wrapped around him, he moaned deeply. You didn’t want him to stop, you didn’t want it to end when someone suddenly knocked on the door. You and Joel froze out of breath as someone knocked again.

“Housekeeping!”

“No!” Joel blurt out roughly.

“No thank you” he breathed in relief that it was no one else before continuing what he was doing. Next thing you knew, Joel flipped you on top of him, his hands pushing up beneath your shirt grabbing your breasts as you bounced him. Joel could feel your cum dripping down his ballsack.

“Just like that, baby” he panted looking down at his cock.

“Fuck, Joel I’m gonna-“

“You’re gonna cum? Look at me, fucking look at me when you cum” he grabbed a handful of your hair and bought your face down close to his as he pushed his pelvis upwards as fast as he could. You couldn’t take the pleasure he was making you feel, your screams echoing around the room as you came repeatedly.

“Atta girl” he slowed down and flipped you back on your back, your body limp from your orgasm he got on his knees and quickly pulled out. Jerking himself off, his cum shot out of him onto your stomach as he leaned over you.

“Oh shit” he spoke breathlessly looking down at when slowly the intense high came crashing down. He had just fucked his daughter’s Bestfriend.

Joel pushed himself off the bed, slowly stumbling towards the bathroom as your body still tried to recover. He didn’t say a word slamming the bathroom door shut as you slowly pushed yourself up.

“Are you okay?” You called out to him cleaning yourself up, your legs slightly trembling. He didn’t respond.

A few minutes later Joel came rushing out fully dressed and began packing his bag.

“What are you doing?” You asked confused.

“Get dressed, we ain’t stayin’ here”

“Joel, where the hell are we gonna go?”

“Get dressed” he narrowed his eyes on you with a tone you didn’t like.

“Where are we going? Sarah is three hours away and the cabin is still hours away-“

“I ain’t stayin’ here” he walked past you picking up his sweats and throwing it in the bag.

“I don’t understand-“ he abruptly stopped before you and grabbed your face making you gasp.

“I just fucked you in a damn motel. If I don’t leave from here, I will fuck you again and again” his eyes drifted to your lips as you looked at him speechless.

“You’re my daughter’s best friend, I can’t do this” he whispered as he got lost in his temptation and kissed you passionately. He carried you up against the wall brushing his hand up your thigh pushing your shirt above your hips before he moved his lips away. Leaning his forehead on yours he slowly put you back on your feet.

“Get dressed” his tone was cold as he turned away from you.

“You know what-“ you walked towards your bag and pulled out your pants.

“As soon as Sarah and Tommy meet us we can switch, I’ll ride the rest of the way with Tommy” Joel instantly looked up from his bag. Clearly what you said didn’t exactly sit right with him. The thought of you traveling alone with Tommy knowing how his brother was something he was not going to allow. Especially after what had just happened with you.

“So you wanna ride with Tommy now?” He made his way around the bed walking towards you as you pulled up your pants without looking at him.

“Mhm” you responded with clear annoyance.

“You gonna wear your little panties for Tommy too?” Your eyes widened.

“Oh screw you, I didn’t make a move on you”

Joel stood silent, he knew you were right yet his jealousy somehow overpowering his emotions. He felt defeated.

“You’re not ridin’ with Tommy and that’s final” he turned away.

“And what makes you think I have to listen to you?” You quickly followed him until he suddenly turned back to you catching you off guard. He was silent, his jaw tense as you looked up at him slightly intimidated. You could’ve sworn he was going to say something….anything until your phone rang.

Sarah and Tommy got a ride and were now much much closer than you both originally expected them to be and that’s when it hit you, that you were now stuck on a four day trip with your Bestfriend and her dad that you had just slept with..

@moonpascal @katmoonz @picketniffler @stcrrjoon @itsamandi @starry-eyes-love @theoraekenslover @psychoenergy @joeldjarin @bambisweethearts @baronessvonglitter @guelyury @mynameistokyo @harriedandharassed @locaparapedrito @untamedheart81 @rosaliedepp @illyanam1011 @hopefulatrocity @tikikiki @thewritermj @l0veang3l @manuymesut @katiemarieeee @unknownomgg @secretcheesecakenacho @missladym1981 @xmaykeca @dendulinka6 @wintersquirrel @malfoycassimalfoy @scorpio-echo @orcasoul @mysteryhexgirl @locaparapedrito @alloftheimagines @mystickittytaco @justajoelsreader @ashleyfilm

[endursent]

My Partner Turned Into A Cat And I Don't Know How To Fix It (4)

【 content; established relationship , fluff , humour , slight shenanigans , gn!reader 】

【 characters; alhaitham , arataki itto , baizhu , cyno , dainsleif , diluc , kaedehara kazuha , kaeya , kamisato ayato , kaveh , neuvillette , tartaglia , thoma , venti , wanderer , wriothesley , xiao , zhongli 】

【 premise; " You have been struck with a curse of some sort which has turned you into a cat, your partner has no idea how to fix it nor how long it might take. Yet he also cannot help but be rather amused by the situation despite the uncertainty…" 】

【 note; im sorry. this is so long... lol. 】

【 word count; 11.150 | read on ao3 | hsr reader ver | gi his ver | hsr his ver 】

Alhaitham;

He usually wouldn’t allow pets in the house… not because he dislikes them—Alhaitham simply wouldn’t want to have to clean up the hairs that fall off you after moving between every spot you lie down in. 

  Nevertheless… here he is, with a brush in hand as he tries to get it out of the sheets. You sit next to him apologetically (getting more hairs into the same sheet where you’re currently sitting, of course) and watch as he scoops it into a small bag. Alhaitham sets the bag aside and picks you up easily with one hand, his large palm lifting under your tummy and plopping you back down on his lap as he turns back to brushing your hairs away. 

  Feeling eyes on himself, Alhaitham looks down to see your large, round cat-eyes looking up at him, tail swaying. 

  He put you in his lap—doesn’t that mean it’s petting time?

 Where’s your damn attention?

  Slightly exasperated, Alhaitham tries to multitask and pet you while he's scooping your hair—but more keeps tossing around with every upstroke of your thick fur… why did you have to turn into a hairball? Couldn’t you have been a hairless cat? He’s almost tempted to just put you in the bag. 

  He’s a respectable “pet owner”, but does lack in one aspect that’s quite important to you, at least… perhaps not all cats

  No kisses?? 

  You’d at least like some on your head—he doesn’t have to kiss your nose or anything. Though you shouldn’t be surprised, Alhaitham isn’t very forthcoming with his affections and most of your casual kisses are by your initiation and his response to it.

  So now you have to effectively smush your furry little head into his face to communicate that you want kisses. 

  It takes him a few tries to understand what you need, but thankfully he got it rather easily, smart lad. 

  Kaveh sometimes catnaps (kidnaps) you for… cat naps. He says it’s nicer than hugging his own pillow—and you don’t particularly mind, but Alhaitham does. Once he can’t find you after a general sweep of the house he figures Kaveh took you again and like a seasoned thief, swaps you out with a pillow while the architect is asleep. 

  “Hmph… he should get his own cat,” Alhaitham says to himself after shutting the door quietly, holding you like a baby in his arms, your paws in the air. He looks down, grey hair tilting over his eyes as he smiles only slightly. “What? You are my cat. Perhaps I should call you kitty from now on, even after you’ve changed back.”

  You tried to climb onto the back of the chain in the study when Alhaitham was doing some studies once, but quicker than you could react—even with these new cat reflexes—he grabs you by the scruff of your neck and hoists you off. “You’re scratching the furniture,” he moves you from the back of the chair and plops you down on his lap. “Do refrain from doing that.”

  Hmph. You wanted to bite his hair a bit… it smells nice. But fine. Lap it is, you can settle for that.

  It takes you about two and a half minutes not to be satisfied with that, and lounge over his book instead, hoping he’ll stop and pay attention to you instead. You have a feeling he would do the same if he were in your position. 

  Alhaitham seems annoyed for a few seconds, but he only needs to stare into your big, cute cat-eyes for a few seconds to fold. What can he do? It doesn’t take much for you already to rope him into whatever shenanigans the day brings, and especially not like this.

Arataki Itto;

You just wanted a nice, cool nap. 

  It’s hot as balls in Inazuma, and you found an excellent spot under a slanted roof. You got comfortable and were half asleep already when you’re suddenly dragged off the crate and raised in the air like a divine heir. 

  Flailing in protest, your screaming of; “PUT ME DOWN YOU OAF” isn’t translated very well into frantic meows and hisses. 

  And of course, Itto has no idea what you’re trying to communicate—in fact, he thinks you’re just a bit surprised yet happy to see him. He sets you on his shoulder and you hold on for dear life. He’s broad, but broad muscles are also rather round and his outfit isn’t easy to grab onto—you just thank feline evolution that you have good balance and can hold yourself somewhat steady. 

  He sometimes just parades you around on his head like a strange hat, he doesn’t even seem to mind the death grip you have on his scalp. 

  Best naps, laying out in the grass on a warm summer’s day as the bright rays of the sun shine down on you. It’s comfortably warm, your fur keeps you cool enough that you don’t get lightheaded—despite popular belief, Itto is not a snorer, but he is a hugger. 

  You’re caged against his broad chest and there’s little escape or ways to wake him without scratching, biting or wailing like you’re trapped under a boulder. 

  Itto is a seasoned pet owner, he has multiple beetles that he takes good care of and thus he’s surprisingly adept at handling you. He doesn’t toss you around (except to put you on his shoulders or head) and doesn’t lock you out of the house or forget to feed you. In fact, you’d say he’s a top-notch owner, though you might be slightly biased. 

  The summer days are warm in Inazuma, and sometimes one just needs to do something to keep their mind off of the heat. Even with your coat protecting you from most of it, even you are starting to get dazed by the sharp, overbearing heat of the sun. And Itto is also very good at filling empty time. 

  He takes you out to the beach, though it wasn’t the best idea—he thought it was genius, the ocean is cool enough, there are not many around on the eastern beaches because of the awkward positioning and further distance from the city… but he didn’t take it into account that you absolutely refuse to get in the water, and there’s no shade. So that idea gets abandoned quickly. 

  For some reason he loves to touch your nose; poke it, kiss it, rub it… anything. And every time he does, you have to wet it again—it almost becomes a funny game to him to touch your nose and watch as your tongue darts out to wet it again. 

  Being unable to communicate with you isn’t a problem, he’s a yapper and can talk enough for the two of you. You try to meow along in response to show that you’re listening, but even if there was no brain behind your eyes, he’d still talk your ears off. 

  He creates a makeshift cat-bed for you out of some blankets and cushions, Itto was rather proud of himself for the craft that went into making it as soft as it is…

  It still always ends up with you on his chest or legs at the end of the night. Without exception.

Baizhu;

He really scratches his head over this situation, how did this happen to you? You had gone out to deliver some medicine to those who aren’t well enough or mobile to come fetch it themselves, and had stayed out far longer than usual—Baizhu had started to worry and nearly had gone to look for you… when a cat with your eyes and mannerisms stumbles into the pharmacy meowing up a storm trying to explain itself. 

  Distressed, confused and much smaller than you’re used to being, Baizhu quickly scoops you up into his arms to calm you down. “Do not worry, I recognise you,” he assures—he feels a little silly saying this to a cat, and has a twinge in the back of his mind that he might be wrong. But the way you’re waving your paw is strangely… human, though muddled by the restrictions of your cat-joints. 

  Changsheng however, finds this HILARIOUS. She unwinds a bit from Baizhu’s shoulders and nearly bumps snouts with you as she wonders whether you were even fully aware of yourself, and after some arguing—in the form of loud yowling and meowing—they concluded that yes, your mind is well. 

  Baizhu tries everything he can think of, but he’s never really encountered a situation like this before and he has to use a lot of his attention to theory-crafting and tests. 

  The only thing that made a difference, was that one concoction he crafted made your ears twice larger… but it didn’t change you back. So now you just have unnaturally large ears for a cat. 

  He smiles sheepishly as he examines you to make sure nothing else is affected. “Ah… apologies, my dear. I don’t mean to laugh… but the ears,” he tries his best not to smile too widely, or give a soft laugh. But it’s difficult, you look so disproportionate it’s just adorable.

  Despite your grievance over your proportions, Baizhu can’t help but rub your ears and scratch behind them. He gives you some good treats as an apology. You reluctantly accept. 

  Unfortunately, Baizhu has a job to do and can’t just close the pharmacy off from his assistance to tend to you. He multitasks as much as he can, but there are scheduled appointments to be present for.

  But he has a good idea of how to utilise you, after all, you’re the usual deliverer—customers likely won’t mind if you’re cat-sized.

  Thus, he gets some help from contacts and a day later you have a fancy harness with a delivery box on your back. Baizhu sets some medicine in it and fastens it properly so it won’t slip off and you don’t feel too constrained… and sets you on your way. 

  You were getting bored lounging around in the pharmacy anyway, so you revel in getting to stretch your legs a bit. You make the deliveries in record time, able to get through tiny crevices you weren’t able to before and hope through shortcuts you didn’t even know about.

  As you return to the pharmacy after the final run, Baizhu smiles and kneels down in front of you, removing the harness and scratching where the lines of it had pressed against your fur. The nice feeling of being pet brings a rumbling purr from your chest and your tail sways happily as he gives you some water to drink and attention. 

  “Good work today,” he strokes between your large ears and rubs his thumb on your cheek. “It’s almost time to close up, let’s go upstairs and continue trying to figure out how to turn you back.”

  The soft ambient light of the room and the sound of Baizhu’s brush stroking against the paper of a scroll makes you much more tired than you expected. You lay curled up on the desk against the wall where he sits and writes formulas and theories, Changsheng slithers up next to you and bundles herself on your back—it’s not particularly comfortable, but you’re too lazy to move, and it’s kind of cute. 

  Baizhu hums to himself and looks at you, his gaze lingers for only a short time before returning to the scroll in front of him.

Cyno;

He stares at the cat in Tighnari’s hands, his eyes look up to the man holding you and then back down. “What.”

  The ranger deadpans and plops you into his arms. “I’ve been scouring the library for days while you were in the desert, I don’t know what happened, but it’s just how they are right now.”

  Cyno lifts you up by holding your torso under your front legs, he peers at your face as you dangle like an idiot but have no way to really wriggle away. “Blink twice if it’s really you.”

  You blink twice.

  “Huh,” he just makes a sound of affirmation, then tucks you under his arm. “Thank you, I’ll take it from here.”

  Tighnari stares at him, unimpressed by his lack of reaction to the fact that his partner is currently a small, furry cat. “You're not going to ask where I found them, how I know it’s them or how my progress is going when it comes to turning them back?”

  Cyno is silent for a beat before he speaks again. “I know it’s them, I know their eyes.”

  Somehow, the duty of getting you back to normal remained on Tighnari’s back, and Cyno sets you down on the dining table in your shared home. He folds his arms over his chest and analyses you, it’s a little awkward—you’re not sure why he’s staring so intensely at you. 

  “This is… quite the cat-astrophe—”

  Oh no. 

  You have no way to stop him, and though you usually let him get it out of his system once he feels the need… you could also stop him once it gets out of hand. In this form, you’re effectively defenceless and unable to protest in any meaningful ways. 

  Thankfully, he does stop after you dive under your bed and hide for ten minutes in hopes he won’t drag you back and perform stand-up for you for the rest of the night. 

  Once Cyno is assured this strange transformation isn’t dangerous nor necessarily permanent, he’s rather laid back about it. He finds it quite funny (evidently) and there’s no way around it, you’re cute like this. Not that he didn’t consider you cute before, but it’s especially unavoidable now. 

  There’s no real way to stop him from making jokes or puns about this situation, it’s in his soul—and though you wouldn’t trade his soul for the world, you get moments of temptation when his brain hyperfocuses on one thing to centre his jokes around. 

  They get a bit tired.

  You follow him around everywhere, it’s not like you’ve got better places to be. He thinks it’s rather adorable to see you trotting around at his heels as he walks through the city, though he tells you to remain home when he has work to do—it can turn dangerous sometimes, depending on the day, and he recognises that your body is smaller and more fragile than it used to be. 

  He does always come back right away, he wraps up any follow-ups and paperwork as quickly as he can—if only for the moments of arrival. Of opening the front door and being greeted by you sitting at the entrance of your home, staring up at him with a swaying tail. Waiting excitedly. 

 Dainsleif;

You’ve never seen this expression on his face, in the moments after you touched a strange-looking artefact, there’s a poof—and your body shifts to that of a small cat. It wasn’t painful, nor do you feel as if you were cursed in any way. 

  “... meow?” 

  Dainsleif stares at you, lips parted slightly, he’s positioned with one foot forward as he had been in the process of rushing towards you to hopefully stop you from touching what you shouldn’t… but he was a tad late. 

  He straightens and takes a breath. Okay… from one mystery to another. 

  He approaches you and picks you up—a bit awkwardly, as if he doesn’t know how to hold a cat—and you’re too confused and disoriented as to what just happened to process you being turned back towards the round artefact. Dainsleif takes your front right paw and makes you touch the artefact again.

  Nothing. No glow, no poofing. 

  There goes his only idea. 

  The following days were confusing and mildly frustrating. It’s been a while since Dainsleif traveled alone, and though he isn’t technically alone—you’re still there, it doesn’t feel the same. He’s quite struck with the confrontation that he’s become very accustomed to your presence and how much he’s come to rely on it. 

  He’s a bit quiet and distant from you for a few days, while it makes you sad—if anything, you should be the one who needs comforting—you do try to slowly approach, you know that he can run the danger of isolation. 

  After starting a flame one evening in the alcove of a cave beneath a bright starry sky, Dainsleif sits down to rest for the night. You walk over with slow steps, careful and quiet, before sitting down next to him. 

  Far enough that you’re not touching, not even your tail… but close enough to be present. 

  His eyes slide towards you, and his head follows. “... what is it?”

  “Meow.”

  His eyelids squint, unsure what to make of your reply. Your answers always make sense to him… but what can he decipher from your feline face? The only familiar part of you is your eyes, shining under the light from the flames. “I see.”

  You doubt he deciphered any meaning from your meows, but he’s engaging with you now. Progress. 

  Trying your luck, you move closer. He stays as he is, watching you closely.

  You move closer yet, your tail touches his coat. 

  Dainsleif sighs. 

  You stop. 

  He can’t particularly feel your presence, not yours—but there is a presence next to him. It is yours, despite the fact he can’t sense it… and perhaps one day, were he to outlive you as if likely, he will have to find your presence in something you’re not. 

  And though you are this weird-looking cat, somewhere between a sentient human being and a feline animal, you’re still you. 

  The same, those same eyes, the very same gaze and mind. 

  He reaches out and sets his palm onto your furry head. Dainsleif pets your head slowly, and you nuzzle into his hand. You sit in silence before the swaying flames.

Diluc;

He can’t help but think that you might’ve done this on purpose. 

  Diluc has been very busy the last weeks he’s been coming back home to the winery late, leaving early—getting up in the middle of the night and waking you up when he goes out for his Darknight hero duties—and though you rescheduled it for next week, missed a dinner in the city that had been booked in advance. 

  He does feel bad, Diluc wants to spend all the time he can with you, all his free time and more—but with the winter months drifting by, business in the winery booms as people stock up on wine for the holidays. Businesses buy in bulk for holiday menu changes, and such. 

  And now, after hurrying back home when he was contacted that “something had happened” to you… he’s standing in front of a cat. 

  He thought you might’ve been hurt, or sick—he had run so fast his hair was loosening from his usual tail. 

  And while you’re not hurt or sick, you are… different. Something definitely happened. 

  He sits down and you climb onto his lap, sitting down and pawing at his chest, small meows leaving your small mouth. Diluc strokes your back and ruffles your fur with both hands. “How did this happen?” he knows you can’t answer him, but he can’t help but ask anyway. 

  You rise up on your hind legs, front paws on his chest as you lick and wet his cheeks. Diluc’s eyes close and his face scrunches up. “H-hey, stop that,” he puts his hands around your torso and holds you away from his face, your little tongue bleping down out of your mouth. 

  A smile tugs on his lips at the cute expression. 

  He still has to attend to his job, but while he usually handles most things himself, Diluc does accept help from his staff now that you’re… like this. So now he has more time for you, which isn’t exactly how he intended to spend that free time—searching for ways to turn you back, and having you loafing on his lap and being unable to stand up and fetch his coffee. 

  He’s not going to move while you’re so comfortable… he wouldn’t do that even if you weren’t a cat. 

  Not the biggest fan of the hair you leave around you, he needs to wipe his clothes thoroughly after you’ve so much as looked in his direction.

  You get so much attention around the winery it’s not even funny, every employee pets you, gives you treats and treat you like you’re more of a royal cat than just a normal person turned into one. 

  Diluc came home one evening to see you loafing on the sofa, a shiny bow tied around your neck and a bowl of treats next to you… in reach for whenever you wanted it. 

  He had a conversation with the staff about making sure you don’t eat so much that your stomach will hurt… and that maybe not make you get too comfortable like this, he wants to turn you back to normal after all. 

Kaedehara Kazhua; 

He thinks it’s adorable, Kazuha is a rather laid-back person overall, and he’s certain you’ll be okay—so why not have fun while you’re like this? 

  It started all fun and games when on land, Inazuma is filled to the brim with foods that cats would love, every shop has some form of fish or vegetables that Kazuha can share with you…

  But as soon as you go out on the open ocean, it’s over. 

  Kazuha has never seen you so violently unhappy on the ship, every rock of it makes you yowl and dig your claws into whatever you’re standing on, be it a crate, table, bed or Kazuha’s clothes (you ruined two pants, but he doesn’t particularly mind). 

  You have an irrational (or very rational) fear that you might be tossed off the ship and into the ocean at the slightest dip of the deck. Kazuha does his best to calm you and comfort you, he even offers to make a harness and leash for you so that he can yoink you back if you happen to fall overboard. 

  You don’t find his idea as funny as Beidou does.

  Thankfully, you don’t get tossed overboard you don’t spontaneously die or have any other terrible event happen to you—and you’re so thankful to touch land that you hop off the side of the ship and to the harbour the ship docked by before it can even properly be tied down by the dockworkers. 

  Kazuha leans over the railing of the ship and calls your name, a bit worried—he hopes you don’t get lost before he can catch up to you. 

  It takes a while for the ship to dock and open up for people to leave, Kazuha convinces another person on the ship to take his duties for a while as he rushes out to find you. He’s not worried you might get yourself in trouble—you’re rather good at keeping out of it, but he doesn’t want you to get lost or have to spend all day looking for you.

  Even though that’s kind of what he’s starting to do right now…

  Kazuha shoulders past the crowd in the busy markets of Port Ormos, it’s early noon and it’s starting to fill up. The Crux has stocked up here often before and thus the both of you are quite familiar with it, but the winding streets and large crowds filling the markets can make it disorienting for even seasoned visitors. 

  After looking around for longer than he cared for, Kazuha finally spots your tail disappearing behind a corner.

  Kazuha picks up his pace and somehow manages to catch up to you, perhaps the soft breeze is on his side, as he swoops up next to you and scoops you up into his arms.

  He smiles, ducking out of the crowds and into a small alley where some crates are stored for the market stalls. “No need to run away, you’re safe on land now,” he holds you like a baby, your paws in the air as his arm holds your back steadily. “Though you are also very safe on the ship, I won’t let you fall overboard.”

  You meow gently, Kazuha isn’t sure if you’re thanking him or expressing concerns… but the way you look up at him in this position is pretty cute. “Let’s find some good food, hm?”

Kaeya;

Funniest shit he’s seen all year. 

  Kaeya tries not to look like he’s very happy this happened—so long as he knows it’s not dangerous or permanent—or that watching you lick yourself to clean your fur isn’t very amusing. 

  He brings you everywhere, lets you follow him around and even holds you and lets passersby pet you…

  Kaeya is just straight-up treating you like a real cat.

  At this realisation, that he was acting like you were a pet, and not his very real (though cat-like for now) partner and previous human… you got angry! you wriggled in his grasp, surprising him and causing Kaeya to almost drop you—he righted his hold and blinked at you with a confused expression. “What is it? Did I hold you wrong?”

  A series of angry meows and swats of your paw later, Kaeya was none the wiser. 

  He tried to bait you to “forgive” him with some nicely cut fish… and it kind of worked, that was some good fish. 

  Kaeya sits by the table you’re on as you gobble down the fish he bought you, he leans on his fist with a smile and watches as you lick your muzzle after getting fishy-oil on it and shake yourself when you accidentally dip your whiskers into the water next to the plate. 

  The sun almost makes it seem like your fur shines and sparkles under it and as you sit down, belly full and satisfied, Kaeya reaches out and scratches behind your ears. “Did you take behavioural classes before this? To behave like a real cat? You’re really nailing it.”

  You make a huffed sound, but reach your head further into his hand. 

  He tries to get you to play with toys, he buys a stick with a bundle of feathers on the end in hopes that you’ll chase it when he dangles it in front of you… but when he sat down with you on the floor of your shared home and dangled it in front of you…

  You stared at him as if he had just grown three additional heads.

  Kaeya pouts, he wriggles it a bit—and though you follow it around with your head, you still sit where you are and don’t move.

  Not until he lowered the toy and the feathered end touched the floor.

  You pounced onto it.

  Kaeya pauses, blinking at you in surprise. You look up like you got caught with your hand in a cookie jar. 

  And then he just laughs, he wriggles the toy again and you swat at it in frustration for making you leap at it like that, you’re not a real cat!!

Kamisato Ayato;

He doesn’t leave you alone. 

  You’re trotting along the engawa of the estate on your way to find a nice spot to nap—and suddenly, you’re swooped up into his arms. Ayato smiles and strokes your head. “There you are, my dear. I was searching for you,” he hums and turns around to walk into the estate. 

  Ayato spends about half the day—and sometimes more—in his study tending to paperwork of many kinds. Unusually, you would lend a hand and help with the neverending piles on his desk, but you’re little help like this… still, he demands that you “lend your paw” and sit on his lap the entire time. 

  It was nice at first, he’s got a nice lap to lay or loaf on, and he would scratch you in spots you couldn’t reach yourself, or just stroke your back… but after five hours, you really want to stretch your legs.      So, you squeeze out from under his arm and stretch next to him, letting out a big yawn—only to find a finger poking your tongue?!

  The bastard actually stuck his finger in your mouth when you yawned. Ayato smiled, all smug and somehow innocent at the same time. You meowed in disapproval, but it went straight over his head, as if he had any idea as to what you had just said to him, insult or not. 

  He also keeps pinching your toe beans, sometimes making your claws stretch out and then back in—even in the middle of the night, he rubbed your paws and stuck his finger between the beans. What is wrong with this guy. 

  Other than messing with you and pulling your leg, he does provide the best food and treats—as usual, you have the privilege of accessing the clan kitchens and being made food by them on a daily basis and it never fails to make you nearly cry with how good it is.       And even now, as you sit next to his desk and his dinner is brought to him (even though you’ve tried to ask the staff to not bring it to him, and that he has to eat outside of his study or else his ass will get stuck to the floor) you are given your own tray of dishes as well. 

  Gobbling down the freshly made meals tailored to you even in this form, Ayato is happy that you seem to have a good appetite. He had been concerned that this… situation might stress you out and you wouldn’t be able to eat or sleep. 

  Despite his endless workload, Ayato somehow finds the time to pamper and take care of you between his busy schedule. He sits down with you in the gardens and brushes your fur, rubs your cheeks and kisses your nose (and you need to wet it again every time). As if you were a little fur baby for him to take care of. 

  He still talks to you as if you were as you always are, though Ayaka uses a baby-voice like one would use with a cat (she tries not to, but fails), Ayato speaks to you normally. He plucks the seeds out of a small cube of watermelon before feeding it to you as he recounts his day, humming in affirmation as you meow back about your own… he doesn’t understand it, but you need to get it out as well. 

  Your snout is practically pink by the end of the watermelon bowl, and Ayato gives you that smile… oh no. 

  “It’s been a few days now, and you ran around the garden yesterday… and now you’re covered in melon juice. Why don’t I ask Thoma to warm a bath to wash your fur?” he asks innocently, and watches in amusement as you shoot out of his lap and flee into the estate. Not a chance. 

Kaveh;

Kaveh gapes at you. You stare up at him. He blinks. You blink.

  “H-hah???!” he scoops you up—accidentally upside down, but you just flop in his arms, still blinking at him from your angle, you know he won’t drop you. Kaveh rights you and brings you nearly nose-to-nose as he stares into your eyes. “How did this happen? You were just—I was… this…”

  He holds you a few centimetres away so neither of you go cross-eyed. “... Do you understand me?”

  You nod and raise your paw, pressing it onto his cheek.

  Kaveh doesn’t move his face away and lets your paw just press against his skin. “Okay, you’re… uh, aware… how do I fix this?”

  “Meow.”

  “...” right. Maybe this was a stupid question. 

  Kaveh goes a bit overboard, he researches the best ways to take care of a cat, the best foods, beds, toys—everything. And suddenly, he comes home after a short day at work (he has more important things to tend to!) with… so much stuff. 

  You stare, dumbfounded, as Kaveh carves out a cat-space in his and Alhaitham’s house… did he get Alhaitham’s permission to do this? You somehow doubt it. 

  After everything is set up, he stands and sets his hands on his hips with a wide smile. “What do you think?” Kaveh asks, looking down at you sitting by his feet with a swaying tail. “I think it fits very well, the colours compliment our living room—and I tried to arrange it in a way that mostly hugs the wall and doesn’t intercept with the flow of the room—”

  He’s rambling again. You don’t mind when he gets going and his interior design skills ARE good, despite it not being his expertise, it goes hand in hand with architecture. 

  But… did he consult the other half of this house before doing this? 

  You found out quickly, you had just settled in the high cat-bed that hung on the wall, giving you a good view over the living room as well as a height advantage to him (now you get why cats enjoy the high ground)... when the front door opens and a very familiar Scribe enters. 

  Alhaitham wasn’t even aware that you had turned into a cat, to him… he just came home to see a random cat in the living room—and that it was arranged completely differently to give you space. 

  Thankfully Alhaitham has a good few brain cells to rub together between his fingers, and isn’t quick to rise, so he looked to Kaveh and tilted his head towards the kitchen… where they had a lengthy discussion, where Kaveh explained everything to him and asked him if it was okay…

  Which is a tad late when he’s already rearranged the entire living room and gotten you comfortable there… but fine. So long as he takes it all down and makes everything as it should be once you’re back to normal. When asked, Alhaitham said he was too busy to help turn you back and told him to consult the library. 

  Kaveh is a hugger in his sleep, and you’re a victim (you love his hugs). He practically wraps himself around you and holds you to himself the entire night—and don’t you dare try to leave, he’ll wake up and whine about it. He does sometimes squeeze a bit too much—you’re not as durable as you usually are, you’re just a little kitty…

  He gets cuteness aggression when you do anything mildly affectionate. Rub against his legs while he’s at his desk, loaf on his lap and slow blink up at him, lick his hand when he strokes your head… Kaveh tries his best not to squeeze you or shake you like a keychain, he bit into his own hand once to refrain from biting your full cheek of food once. 

  He drew a full sketchbook of you over the span of two weeks, he can’t help it—you’re too adorable and he wants to keep the image of you forever. 

Neuvillette;

Not chill about this, Neuvillette was immediately concerned with how to turn you back and if this curse-spell could have any permanent effects on you. He doesn’t really have many tomes to consult, nor are there many people he could ask for advice as to… how to fix this. 

  After some time, and you rubbing your furry cheek on his arm and leg to try and calm down his nerves, Neuvillette does slow down. He’s usually very calm in the face of the unknown or danger—but he’s never had to deal with direct danger (or not, he hasn’t figured out if it’s dangerous or not yet) when it comes to you. 

  Thankfully, you’re still there with him, just… a bit smaller, and furrier… and you smell a bit weird—still like you, but also with a tinge of something else. Perhaps that part of your scent has always been your humanity. 

  And now you’re a cat. 

  He’s never owned a pet before—and you’re hardly a typical pet, and thus consults the only person he can think of. Furina (though he’s unsure she’s ever owned a pet either?).

  And she loves you, she already likes you well enough—but like this? You’re getting picked up, petted, smooched, pampered and loved. Neuvillette just stands a bit awkwardly as Furina gets it out of her system and you get dangerously close to being fed up with her hugging and smooching… you’re not an actual cat! You just look like one!!

  After being freed from her clutches, Neuvillette holds you with more dignity for a while until you feel safe enough to walk around the ex-Archon’s home (and won’t get swooped up again). When the initial chaos is over, he sits down with Furina and they put their heads together to try and find a solution to this. They write down how it happened, what exactly changed—your mind is the same, your scent as well as your eyes. Though your fur has turned a shimmering white regardless of your head and body hair colour before. 

  You look like a big snowball. 

  There’s no real conclusion to the first session of brainstorming, but they manage to narrow down that though neither was there to see what exactly happened, it was likely a spell, or perhaps an artefact you touched (where would that even happen inside Fontaine?) or something along those lines. 

  Thus, Neuvillette takes you back home for the night. He’s a bit stiff around you, he doesn’t interact much with animals and though he won’t avoid them if a cat approaches him on the street (he’d mostly greet and nod at them) he hasn’t exactly had to care for one before. 

  He has to rely on asking you yes or no questions that you can nod or shake your head to, and makes it through the first few days like that. And while you’re… cute? (He’s not entirely sure how to describe you) Nauvillette does much more prefer you in your normal state, where he can communicate with you, hold your hand and touch your cheek without getting sniffed at by a wet nose.

  Not that Neuvillette doesn’t enjoy petting your fur and scratching under your chin, it’s just not the same. 

  It is very amusing to watch your head move left and right as you sit on the kitchen counter and watch Neuvillette prepare dinner—mostly for himself as you don’t eat typical foods now. He offers a small piece of a carrot and watches as you crunch on it for a good thirty seconds until it’s mushed enough to swallow. 

Tartaglia;

Another situation of; the funniest shit he’s ever seen. 

  He brings you everywhere—Childe has no concept of ‘pet-free zone’ because you’re not his pet? You’re his partner? His beloved? Why is he being shooed out, you’re on a leash and everything (half chewed apart because you refuse to wear it with dignity and do all in your power to get free, how dare he put you on a LEASH).

 Of course, initially, he was confused and rather concerned. He thought you might have been attacked, or targeted and thus had been made into this… cat, maliciously. 

  But you honestly seem pretty undisturbed, so he is as well. Calm cat, calm Childe. 

  He dresses you up before taking you outside—not necessarily for fun, but rather because it’s insanely cold in Snezhnaya in these months, and he doesn’t want you to be a block of ice after a few minutes. So he goes and buys some puffy coats, socks and a warm blanket for your return. You feel like you look like an idiot (you already look like a cat…) in all these clothes, but his cooing and smooching make it less annoying—mostly because now your annoyances are focused on him. 

  His siblings don’t really understand that it’s you, not at the younger range—and Childe just tells them that you’re a cat he and you decided to take care of for a while and that you’re busy elsewhere. Tonia doesn’t seem as convinced when Childe keeps smooching your nose and rubbing his cheek against yours. 

  Embarrassing enough as it is, Childe starts to call you nicknames now—it isn’t entirely unusual, but they’ve always been normal… now he’s calling you “Combat kitten” and “Fuzzy comrade”... worst of all was “General toebeans”

  You wish you could tell him to stop, but all you have are meows and hisses. 

  Snezhnayan homes are made to withstand cold and harsh winds, and thus have excellent central heating systems… also known as a fireplace—and a furnace elsewhere. And curling up on some soft blankets or a plush chair by the furnace as snow gathers on the windowsill and winds brush against the exterior of the house… there are few places more comfortable to take a nap.

  Unfortunately, Childe’s humming and singing from the kitchen disturbs your perfect peace, but you’re just glad he’s having fun. You’ll live. 

  And he brings you some treats, places a small kiss on top of your furry head and sits down in the other chair, dragging the one you’re on to be next to his so that he can stroke your back and belly when you eventually flop on your back for more attention. 

  He’s pulled every string and contact in the Fatui to try and figure how to turn you back (except a select few who will either be last measures or just straight avoidances despite advice they might give) but hasn’t had much luck so far. Thankfully you've only been stuck like this for a week or so, and thus it hasn’t been so long to be concerning. 

  Perhaps it’s just a matter of waiting it out, and Childe is surprisingly patient. 

Thoma;

The Housekeeper stands in surprise as a cat is suddenly plopped into his arms. “Ah… is this… a new house pet…?” the Kamisato estate doesn’t exactly have pets, there are some cats that come around and nap in the gardens every now and then and leave after a while, but this cat is staring at him as if they’ve known him their entire life.

  Ayato only hums as he’s already turned to another task, rushing from one thing to another as the busy days of summer come along. He doesn’t have much time to explain—nor is there much to explain. He had borrowed you for a few minutes to help him with something, he turns around for a moment, and the next you’re a cat.

  Thoma stares at him, silent for a time. He’s not entirely sure if Ayato is messing with him or not—it’s entirely possible, and par for the course for his lord—but as Ayato shakes his head and waves his hand in dismissal, he speaks again. “I already have someone looking into it, take care of them in the meantime. I’ll have someone fetch you if there is news.”

  You’re actually a cat. 

  After leaving Ayato’s study and sitting down outside where the afternoon sun has begun sinking towards the oceans beyond the cliff the estate sits on, Thoma stares at you as if he’s not entirely sure what to do with you. 

  Despite the initial confusion (and the followed concern, but it’s quickly dampened somewhat, Ayato has someone on the case and he trusts him to find a solution) Thoma is a very responsible person. He makes sure you’re not uncomfortable at all despite some estate staff vehemently refusing to let you in specific places… such as the kitchen. Fair enough. But there are also certain rooms and areas that have to be kept very clean and they don’t want cat hairs to get all over the place. 

  Thoma brings you around, he’s got many places to be, and he’s sure you’d like to stretch your legs anyway—it’s always nice to leave the estate for a few hours and run some errands. He had to head down to a nearby village and see whether trade agreements were coming along smoothly, they produce a lot of high quality rice and are often stuck in trade deals with large towns and clans for their rice—and for a well enough reason. Recently, Ayato had struck a deal with them and everything was signed and well along its way, Thoma just had to go and make sure they had everything they needed for transport. 

  It was a good walk, but you kept up easily… somehow having four legs rather than two makes you less tired after walking for some hours…? Or perhaps it’s because your body is so light now, you don’t know much about cat anatomy. 

  The meeting went well and you didn’t linger for long.

  Unfortunately, a heavy downpour began to fall on the two of you as you headed back. Thoma quickly scooped you up and tucked you into his jacket—it’s not much of a jacket, it barely reaches below his ribs, but it was just big enough for him to cover you (and lean a bit to cover you better) and pick up his pace to run back to the Kamisato estate. 

  After making it back inside, the rain was as if a waterfall had opened in the heavens to drop down on the roof. Thoma’s hair is wet and sticks to his cheeks as he sets you down. “Ah, that was close,” he laughs softly. “Are you dry?”

  You shake yourself after being pressed against his chest for so long and sniff around your fur, then give him a nod. 

  “Hah, that’s good, I’ve heard cats don’t like water much,” he smiles. “I need a change of clothes, come with me?”

  You let out a happy meow and follow him along further inside. 

Venti;

Cooes at you and talks to you with a baby-voice, he puts both thumbs on either side of your cheeks and rubs your face like it’s dough… even though it makes his nose red and his eyes puffy—despite the cursed allergy that torments his everyday life (there’s so many cats in Mondstadt) he doesn’t let it stop him from being around you. Pestering some healers for a medicine that could help, he feels… less bad, but it doesn’t really dampen the itch in his eyes and throat well enough.

  He doesn’t take this situation seriously at all, at least not nearly as much as you do—you should probably trust his reactions and instincts, as he’s far more knowledgeable than you (even though he doesn’t act like it at all) and if you were in any danger, he wouldn’t be smooching your cheeks and nuzzling you like HE’S the cat. 

  Thus, you try to calm down, to focus on just getting through the days and not feel embarrassed when you have to clean yourself or relieve yourself as a cat. 

  But Venti also doesn’t make it easy for you, he builds a “throne” for you out of books and pillows for you to have the high ground (he doesn’t want to put holes in the wall for a hanging bed) and gives you “Mondstadt’s finest tuna” that tasted very much like a normal piece of tuna, but you appreciated the gesture nonetheless.

  Sometimes you really wonder if he was the one who cursed you just so he could mess with you and cuddle you without you being able to fend him off. Not that you would be particularly opposed to cuddles in the first place? He could just ask?? Besides, why would he choose the form of a cat out of every other pet considering his consistent sneezing up a storm around them.

It doesn’t add up, you discard your theory.

  You can’t sleep in the same bed anymore, both because Venti moves a lot in his sleep and being a cat does not make it safe, he could crush you! (as if he’s heavy enough to do that) and because he might well and truly pass away if he had to be so close to your furry-ass for such a pronged amount of time… and thus, Venti makes a nice bed for you out of blankets and pillows next to your usual one where you can rest.

  There was a time where these new cat instincts took a bit too much over, and when you were chasing a crystalfly on a walk along the roads outside the city, you had hopped onto a big rock—and after missing your chance to catch the crystalfly, you hopped onto Venti and tried to eat his braids. 

  He yelped in surprise, but laughed once he realised what you were doing. “My hair isn’t for eating, it’s no good for your digestion either!”

  You felt embarrassed about this little incident, and he kept making fun of you for it—though not necessarily maliciously, Venti just thought it was funny that you didn’t go for his hat, but his hair instead.

  Climbing to the top of the Mondstadt cathedral or the statue of himself isn’t your favourite pastime, but it’s surprisingly much easier in this form—and thus when Venti suggests you go to the top to play some songs, you had been hesitant at first.

  Making it to the top, Venti sits down comfortably as if he’s done it a thousand times (you sometimes suspect he climbs it to make you feel better, because you know he can just float up with a gust of wind) and pats his lap for you to sit down. 

  You plop yourself onto his thighs and settle comfortably as the sun sinks below the horizon, Venti takes out his usual lyre and tests a few tunes to ensure it’s properly set. “Let me play you something nice, it’ll help you sleep.”

  And it is nice, your ears flick as his fingers dance along the harp’s strings, he hums along with it but doesn’t sing full words—the vibration of the song calms you and you rest your head on your paws. 

Wanderer;

“You are the ugliest cat I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  He’s being dramatic, you’re not that ugly… but…

  Why did you have to turn into a hairless cat? 

  You feel strange, and perhaps you would also feel the same way if you had a lot of hair, but every single breeze makes you feel you are especially naked—because you are!

  Wanderer isn’t exactly happy to have to take care of you—he will do it, of course, but he will also complain about it. You were perfectly independent and functional as a person before you just had to go and sniff some plant in the wild that poofed you into a cat before his very eyes. 

  He refuses to seek help to find out how to turn you back, not because he doesn’t want anyone to know that you’re a cat, but rather because he’s certain he can handle it himself. 

  You whack at his arm with your paw, meowing up a storm after a few hours of not being fed the day after—he had completely forgotten that he needs to prepare something digestible for you… he’s never had to take care of a creature like you before—what can you even eat?? He clicks his tongue. “Don’t swat at me like that. You’re human, act like it…”

  You’re not human right now!! Give me food!!

  Eventually, he does begin to take proper care of you, even though he keeps telling you that you look like a peeled potato… you don’t have many ways of retaliation except whacking him with your paw or hissing when he lightly pinches a big patch of your skin. 

  Surprisingly, during one strangely cold night when you were curled on the bed and trying to stay warm—even the slightest drop in temperature was very cold to your hairless body… you feel something soft drape over you.     Half-asleep and cold, you squint up and scrunch your nose as your whiskers squish against the blanket, you see Wanderer turn back around after setting it over you. Hah… he’s soft under that hard shell as always, even if he tries to act aloof. 

  After several days of no luck in trying to turn you back, Wanderer does begin to cave to asking for some… advice. Not help. Advice.

  With you in his arms, head reaching towards the market stalls of Sumeru city (literally everything smells good and extremely edible) as he passes by, Wanderer takes you to meet with Nahida who is rather enthusiastic about this mystery. She pets you and smiles, humming as he recounts what happened and describes the particular flower you smelled. 

  “Hm, I have an idea, but it’ll take a while to execute… do you think it’ll be okay for them to remain like this for a few more days?” the archon taps her chin in thought, mind swirling with ideas and possible solutions. 

  Wanderer huffs, not exactly a scoff, and clapped his hand onto your head. “It’s fine.”

  But as soon as you returned back home and he set you down on the living room table, Wanderer points at you. “You better turn back to normal soon…” he folds his arms over his chest, his expression isn’t as tight as it was before. “I don’t want to deal with this forever. Just get back soon.”

  You inch closer to him on the table, reaching your paw out to tug his sleeve closer—only to rub your head into his palm. He clicks his tongue. “Whatever… don’t think this counts as an apology. You’ll have to make up for it properly when you’re you again.”

Wriothesley;

You are, quite possibly, the smallest cat he has ever seen. 

  He holds you in the palm of his hand, it’s adorable. Wriothesley cracks a grin and lifts you to eye-level. “Hm, you’re not nearly as scary like this, no one in this prison will listen to you like this.”

  You want to whack him on his nose, but politely refrain—if only because you don’t want to get dropped. You meow at him, ferocious and upset at this situation, you have a job to tend to! Things to do!

  But Wriothesley has other ideas, he sets you down on his desk and sits down. “Now, how did this happen? I assume this wasn’t intentional?” is he teasing you? Most likely. He knows you can’t just answer his questions, and you assumed he would be slightly more concerned when a guard brought you to his office…

  But no, he instantly recognised you and dismissed the guard. Had it been the eyes? The fur? Is he somehow responsible for this??

  All unanswered questions, and though he sends out word to some people he thinks might be able to help decipher this mystery, he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get you back to normal. He sets you in the pocket of his vest (it’s embarrassing that you actually fit) and goes on with his days as normal. 

  Siegwinne was initially very concerned, she seemed much more sensible in her worries that leaving you in this form for too long might be dangerous and that the Fortress isn’t exactly a good place for pets. There are a lot of crevices to get stuck in and things to get hurt on.

  Though you still retain your mind, so you should be alright in that sense… so long as you don’t get overly curious. 

  He is undeniably very warm, and cuddling up to him at night is very comfortable—especially now that you can just lay on his chest and snooze there and not worry about being dragged back into his embrace if you move too much in your sleep. You barely move at all in this form.

  Come morning, Wriothesley was already awake by the time you open your eyes, he strokes your fur and scratches behind your ears. Having a day pass by does make the initially amusing situation a bit more… real. He doesn’t want you to be struck with a permanent curse, or some kind of spell that might harm you in the long run. 

  “Don’t you worry,” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep. “I’ll make sure you’re back to normal soon, just stick close by.”

  And you do, mostly because you couldn’t have been blessed (cursed?) with a normal-sized cat body, but possibly the smallest there could be. You can’t even jump up onto his desk by yourself and have to yowl at him to let you up. 

  He does so happily, surprisingly eager to carry you around and help you with the smallest things. 

  Wriothesley doesn’t even change in mood from amusement when you chase the pen in his hands as it glides across paperwork he signs, you leap onto his arm and try to whack at the pet in either some strange instinctual haze, or an attempt to play—and though you whacking the pen makes it seem like he has the handwriting of a toddler, it’s just rather funny.

  The Fortress doesn’t exactly have a large variety of foods, not in the sense that it can be adjusted for the diet of a cat that isn’t accounted for during inventory fills, and thus Wriothesley sends for specific ingredients that won’t be heavy on your tiny little stomach. 

  And he also… got some cat-related things delivered, like a bed, some string toys and treats. You never used the bed, either preferring his lap to nap on, or just slept in the strangest places he never even imagined you could reach with those stubby legs. 

  But he’s a very responsible caretaker, at least, that’s what he claims as he holds you down to brush your teeth and you wriggle and flail like an eel. 

Xiao; 

Very worried, he didn’t even realise the cat sitting in the clearing of the forest was you at first and searched for you for several minutes before seeming to realise that you had just… shrunk. Into a cat. 

  He stares at you for a good minute, lips parted and eyes large… before your name tentatively leaves his mouth.

  You meow in affirmation, standing and shaking yourself as you try to understand the situation yourself—still a bit disoriented. 

  Xiao approaches you quickly and kneels down in front of you, he lifts you up to your hind legs, puts you down and inspects your ears, your tail and under your paws. You meow in curiosity as to what he is doing, and surprisingly he seems to understand your question. 

  “There might be traces of whatever did this on your body, it will make it easier to track or reverse,” he says and even checks inside your mouth, which you weren’t really happy with. 

  Unfortunately, he doesn’t find any answers, and kneels there rather awkwardly with you in front of him… what now? This situation has stumped him a bit—he’s supposed to be able to keep you safe from all manners of danger and curses like this (perhaps not exactly like this, he never prepared for this exact scenario) and now that he’s not got many leads to fix it, his mind is a bit aimless in where to search for information. 

  He has no idea how to care for you, and while he has vague ideas of the behaviours of animals…they mostly stem from wild animals and their reactions to foreign presences in their territories, or similar scenarios. 

  What does a meow mean? Is there something wrong? What does it mean when you paw at the door? Do you want to go outside? But it’s two in the morning?

  He severely overestimates the portions of food you eat, giving you a full plate of something the Wangshu Inn kitchens prepared on his request (they figured out what happened and have been trying to help him, but Xiao is still trying to be subtle and secretive about the situation) and being confused when you only ate a fourth of it. 

  Are you sick? Was it the wrong kind of food?

  He brings you along with him on his hunts, while he could leave you at the inn… how can he be sure that you won’t get into trouble? The window is high above the ground, what if you tumble out of it? What if you try to climb up on the dresser in the room and get stuck? Or fall down and hurt yourself?

  No, you’re safest with him, even if he has to wield his spear with one hand and hold you with the other. 

  He’s surprisingly good at it too. 

  Desperate after a week of unsuccessful herbs and potions he tried to make, Xiao caves and contacts Liyue Harbour and the adepti that reside there for help.

  It seems his message had gotten into Cloud Retainer’s hands, and instead of any actually helpful advice on how to turn you back… she had sent an entire booklet of cat behaviours, diets and how to take care of them.

  Helpful, sure… but not exactly what he was asking for. 

  One evening as he was out on the usual hunts, he noticed that you were walking slowly by his side, yawning and rather cold so high in the mountains. He didn’t even have to think about what might be wrong or what to do, as he had already scooped you up into his arms and teleported back to the inn, where he sat down with you on the bed. 

  “You should tell me when you’re tired…” he grumbles and tugs one of the covers on the bed to his lap where he wraps it around you as if bundling a baby up. Xiao reaches up and scratches behind your ears as your eyes blink closed in the comfort of being back in the warm room.

  He had only been petting you for s few seconds when he felt you… tremble? There was a strange rumbling sound coming from you, are you uncomfortable? He doesn’t quite understand it… but you continue to rumble as he scratches your head and ears. 

  Ah, was this the ‘purring’ he read about in one of the booklets Ganyu sent him? How… cute.

Zhongli;

“Ah…” Zhongli stares at you, this isn’t quite what he had imagined would happen… he had been crafting a potion in hopes it would help Ganyu sleep better, she had been overworking herself (again) more than usual and was so tired that she couldn’t sleep. It can happen. 

  The combination of herbs and materials required for the potion he had put together wasn’t very suitable for humans, and of course he made sure to let you know so that you wouldn’t drink it… but he hadn’t expected that only being touched by a single drop onto the back of your hand would lead to a poof, and your size being reduced and body turned to that of a cat. 

  You had only wanted to help by handing him ingredients so that he didn’t have to turn around so often… you didn’t anticipate this either!

  He makes sure the potion won’t burn and sets a lid on the pot before turning towards you. “I… had not foreseen that this could have been a danger to you, my apologies,” he kneels down on one knee and holds his hand out for you to sniff. You do so, snout twitching towards his finger before you bump your head into his palm. 

  “Have you retained some sense of consciousness?” he wonders, gloved hand moving to stroke over your small head, your ears flattening under his palm. “I’m sure I can find a way to reverse this.”

  He was sure, at least. But after some research and testing… he wasn’t making any progress—at least, he wasn’t making progress in finding ways to turn you to your normal self without some potential risks or aftereffects. 

  What he did find, was that the herb that you had been touching, and the potion he had halfway crafted was similar to another concoction that he had made before—and the effects of that had only been temporary. 

  It seems you will simply have to wait until the effect wears off. 

  Zhongli had instinctively prepared a delightful meal in the way he knows you would enjoy while you sit in the kitchen counter and watch with interest, your tail swaying happily as you watch him chop some vegetables and set them into the pot… but halfway through the process as he’s setting spices and herbs into the pot, Zhongli realises that more than half of the ingredients in the pot are unsuitable for cats to eat. 

  He finishes the meal and sets it aside, before fetching some fish you had purchased just yesterday that he was going to use for lunch tomorrow and cut it into nicely bite-sized pieces. You tilt your head slightly as you watch—the meal he had just been putting together doesn’t have any fish in it?? What’s it for?

  And honestly, when he plated your food (in a very professional and presentable way) and set it down on the dining table, then set his own on the other side for himself… you felt a bit offended. Raw fish, some rice and a hard boiled egg… next to his delicious smelling beef stew… 

  If you could’ve cried, you would have. And Zhongli felt pretty bad for the rest of the day, he tried to offer you some “safe” treats or make it up to you with some pets and scritches, but you still sulked.

  You had looked forward to this dinner all day…

  Thankfully you got over it rather quickly and Zhongli is glad that he didn’t offend you too badly… it seems having been turned into a cat had made you quite dramatic as well, he doesn’t recall you ever having sulked like this over a meal before.

  Knowing that it was simply a waiting game, Zhongli isn’t very concerned about your state, but he does ensure that you’re comfortable and not afraid—he understands that perceiving the world differently like this can be strange and even scary, but he’s glad when it seems that you’re relatively calm. 

  Your nightly routines are slightly out of whack now—something that Zhongli isn’t very fond of, he quite likes it that after cleaning up after dinner, the two of you settle in the living room for a while. He tends to read and it varies what you get up to, but it’s always a shared time where you sit in silence or chat about your days.

  He does talk about his day to you, sitting on the comfortable seat in the living room with you on his lap, Zhongli recounts his day to you and expresses that he hopes you weren’t too bored alone in the home today, and that perhaps he can convince the director to allow him to bring you for a day. He strokes your back and smiles as a rumbling purr leaves you, he scratches under your chin and touches his forehead to yours as you seem to have fallen asleep on his lap. He reaches for his book and decides to read for a while before taking you to bed. 

  Despite the mishap, he’s glad you’re safe—he will endeavour to be more careful in the future and ensure you won’t be hurt or disturbed by his work.